Where is Jean Luc when I need him?
“What happened to Die Glocke?” I ask.
Watson shakes his head. “Disappeared at the end of the war. Could have been hidden, destroyed or lost in the shuffle. For all we know, it could be collecting dust in a warehouse.”
I grasp Watson’s arm, smiling. “Are you saying...”
It takes him a moment, but he sees where I’m going and says, “Yes. We have top men working on it right now.”
“Who?” I ask.
“Top...men.”
“Ugh,” Collins grunts and then says, “We’re going to need a bigger boat.” Followed by a thick Aussie accented, “That’s not a knife, this is a knife.” And she finishes with, “Get to the choppah!” She looks back and forth between us. “Will that hold you over for a little while?”
I raise an index finger and say, “They mostly come out at night—” but she slugs my shoulder before I can finish. “Yow!”
“Jon,” she says. “Seriously, a lot of people are dead. There are at least three Kaiju on the loose, and no one knows where they’re going to show up next. We—”
“Portland,” I say.
“Maine?” Watson asks.
“Oregon.”
“What makes you think that?” Maigo asks, adding her skeptical eyebrows to the others already conspiring against me.
The long answer is that I’ve had a team of trusted and well paid Zoomb techs—my very own ‘top men’—going through the GOD files, searching for patterns, clues and details. They’re looking for anything actionable or pertinent to our safety, with a focus on Aeros and Ferox activity. Up until now, aside from the events ten years ago in the Arctic, it’s been clear that the Aeros haven’t been hanging around. But in those same ten years there has been an influx of new residents in Portland. People who have suddenly changed career paths and moved. People who have left families and friends to start new lives. It’s the kind of thing normal people sometimes do, but the sheer amount of these people moving to Portland has been vastly disproportionate. “If you were a shape-shifting savage alien and wanted to hide in plain sight, there’s nowhere better to go then the land of happy-tappy hipster-lovin’ Portland.” When all I get are looks of doubt, I add, “Seriously, who would suspect a lumbersexual riding a banana seat bike?”
Watson is the first to admit defeat. “No one.”
Maigo raises her hand. “I would.”
Collins raises her hand. “I have a standing policy to coldcock the first lumbersexual I come across.”
“Well,” I say, looking out over Hyperion’s massive body. “If I’m right, you might get a chance sooner than later. Just try not to get your hand bitten off in the process.”
30
Lilly felt like she had dodged a bullet. So far, the ramifications of stealing the X-35 had been fairly tame. Hardly a stern talking to. She knew that taking the craft had been reckless and impulsive. But she was a teenager, right? That’s what real teens did. Stole the car. Got drunk. Stupid stuff that wasn’t nearly as forgivable once you were an adult—a line she and Maigo were going to cross in record time, thanks to their unique physiologies.
In fact, she could probably argue that stealing the X-35 had saved Boston. Sure, the futuristic aircraft would have helped keep the team safe, but Hudson’s best shot—some kind of aerial swarm—had failed. Thanks to Lilly and Maigo, Hyperion had arrived in Boston just in time to turn the tide and save the others. And they’d managed to keep the robot out of the reach of the Russians and GOD. Granted, neither of them had known there was a giant, Kaiju-fighting, alien mech hidden beneath Big Diomede, but results were results. They couldn’t be argued against.
She glanced at her father, seated beside her in the cockpit. He had interrogated Brice, but he hadn’t even needed to resort to a raised voice. The man was a free-flowing fountain of information that lent credit to his claim of wanting to defect from GOD. But they still didn’t trust him. There was a chance that every truth he told was laced with lies and misinformation.
“We’ll believe it when we see it,” Hawkins had said at the end of the conversation that had set them on their current course over the Pacific Ocean.
The Genetic Offense Directive had redefined its core values and operational parameters in recent years. Though they had been created, in secret, as a black operation with DARPA, they now claimed no allegiance with any single nation, and were willing to work with any country that didn’t require oversight—meaning they could continue their inhuman brand of experimentation, unhindered by laws or morality. Brice had defended the move to a point, noting that the enemy GOD was preparing for didn’t see humanity in terms of nations, but he had backed down on the experimentation, which continued at locations around the world, including aboard a Russian aircraft carrier.
The Kuznetsov class aircraft carrier, named the Sidorenko after Ivan Mihailovich Sidorenko, the deadliest World War II sniper in the Red Army with 500 confirmed kills, wasn’t as large as its American rivals. But what it lacked in size, it made up for in speed—despite being propelled by oil-fired boilers, rather than a nuclear reactor. And they had overcome the size issue for the more modern aircraft it held: Mig-29s, Russian Mikoyan LMFS and MI-24 Hind attack helicopters. But the ship was equal parts war machine and advanced genetics laboratory, operating in international waters, where laws did not apply.
It was also, Brice claimed, a prison for monsters, created...and captured. As a younger variant of Alicio Brice, he hadn’t been privy to exactly what was there, but there was one prized possession that had been recovered from the ruins of GOD’s destroyed West Coast facility: some of Nemesis Prime’s remains, including its massive head and neck, which were the most pristinely preserved parts of the monster’s ancient body.
“Target in sight,” Lilly said, looking toward the horizon, where a large vessel steamed due east.
“They’re really moving,” Hawkins said.
“Twenty-nine knots,” Lilly said, looking at the advanced targeting screen, which displayed the ship’s name, speed, size and known armaments. There were also several buttons that would lead to more detailed information about the crew and schematics, but in the case of GOD’s aircraft carrier, Lilly doubted the information would be accurate.
“Top speed,” Brice said.
Hawkins placed his hands on the windshield and spread them apart, zooming in on the large ship. “The question is, are they charging toward a fight, or running away from one?”
“Running,” Brice says.
Lilly and Hawkins both turned around to see Brice looking at the floor, which still projected a view of the ocean, four miles below. A long, thin shadow moved beneath the waves, sliding through the ocean and slowly gaining on the Sidorenko. A massive shape dragged through the water behind the first. Giger was still hauling Karkinos’s body along for the ride, and was probably the only reason the Kaiju hadn’t overcome the vessel already.
“Well,” Lilly said, “they’re screwed.”
Brice didn’t argue with her assessment, but surprised them both when he said, “You have to help them.”
Lilly laughed. GOD was responsible for creating her, and in that weird sort of way, she owed them her very existence, but they also wanted her back. In their eyes, she was a success story among years and years of monstrous failures. She was fast, strong and deadly with the mind of a human—a soldier for the coming cosmic war, who they’d like to study and duplicate, like feline Brices. “Are you serious? I’m going to cheer when that thing sinks.”
Hawkins frowned at her, no doubt thinking about the humanitarian side of things. The soldiers and scientists on that ship were human beings, some of whom might not be aware of what was happening on board. That was the way his well-rounded mind worked. But then he said, “There isn’t much we can do. You saw what Giger did to Typhon and Scylla.”
Brice looked torn. He held out his hands, preemptively beseeching mercy for what he was about to say. “Zachary Cole is on board the Sidorenko.
”
Lilly snarled at the name. “Even better.”
“You need to save him,” Brice said.
Lilly and Hawkins stared at him for a moment, looked at each other and then turned back to Brice. Even the noble Hawkins looked dubious.
“Why...would we do that...exactly?” Lilly asked.
“He’s a monster,” Brice said. “I agree with that. He wasn’t born with a moral compass. A true sociopath. But he is loyal to the human race as a whole. He might have no regard for the rights or sanctity of individual people, but when it comes to defending the human race, no one is better equipped or knowledgeable. I don’t want to see him again, anymore than you do, but if Giger and Lovecraft really are just the beginning of something larger, we’re all going to need what’s in his head.
“Try to think of him as just another monster, like Nemesis. She has killed thousands upon thousands—far more than Cole. She has consumed people and destroyed cities, but some would argue that in doing so, she has also saved us from worse fates. I believe that is Jon Hudson’s stance. He might not have publicly declared such a thing; it would be career suicide. But his actions—and yours—speak loud enough.”
“Monsters with monsters,” Hawkins said.
“Human and otherwise,” Brice said. “As repulsive as Cole and Nemesis are, they aren’t that different in the end, and we need them both.”
Lilly growled, but she was distracted by the suddenly chaotic view of the Sidorenko. “They’re launching aircraft.”
Three Hind attack helicopters peeled away from the deck, heading south, as MiG-29s took off and tore into the sky. The deck cleared in what must have been record time as three Mikoyan LMFS fighters took off and followed the MiGs up and away towards the east.
“What the hell are they doing?” Hawkins said.
Lilly watched the planes fade into the distance. “Looks like they’re abandoning ship.”
“How far is Giger from the Sidorenko?” Brice asked.
“Fifteen miles,” Hawkins said. “Closing at about a mile a minute.”
“They’re taking precautions,” Brice said, “getting as many assets away from the ship before...”
“Before what?” Hawkins asked.
“GOD might be in charge of the research done on that ship, but it’s still a Russian vessel, making this the first time the Russian military has had a direct conflict with a Kaiju.” Brice looked Hawkins in the eyes. “Ask yourself, if you were Russian, and had already seen the ineffectiveness of America’s military response, how would you react, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.”
Hawkins’s eyes widened. “Lilly, get us out of here.”
“What? Why would—”
“There,” Brice said, pointing at the windshield. “One of them has turned back.”
Hawkins centered their view on the single aircraft and zoomed in. It was flying high, too high to see clearly, but its distinct shape made it easy to identify.
“It’s a Mikoyan,” Hawkins said. “They’re multirole combat aircraft.”
“And?” Lilly asked.
“They have nuclear capabilities,” Brice said.
Lilly believed in the official FC-P and U.S. government’s position that nuclear weapons wouldn’t work against Nemesis. The creature shirked off MOABs and was capable of unleashing the force of a nuclear blast on her own. But this wasn’t Nemesis, or the U.S. military. This was the Russian military under the influence of GOD, in the middle of the Pacific, with no civilians to worry about.
“Buckle up,” she said.
Brice held up his bound hands. “I can’t!”
“Too bad for you,” Lilly said with a grin, and then sent the X-35 into a steep climb that took them above the Sidorenko, which was still at a safe distance. Not wanting to find out if the EMP generated by a nuclear blast was strong enough to knock Future Betty out of the sky, she took them far beyond the ship, and climbed to forty thousand feet. The maneuver took less than a minute and left Brice sprawled against the rear hatch, bleeding from a head wound, but still conscious.
The lone Mikoyan shot past beneath them and quickly covered the now thirteen miles between the aircraft carrier and its target. Something small fell from the plane’s bottom, and then the plane continued forward while climbing higher.
“Will the cameras filter out the light?” Brice asked, rubbing his head and climbing back onto the cargo bench.
Lilly and Hawkins looked at each other. Neither of them knew. Lilly quickly turned off the X-35’s displays, and the entire interior of the craft became a series of flat gray surfaces.
After ten seconds, an already impatient Lilly asked, “How will we know when—”
A wave of pressure slapped into the X-35, shaking it for just a moment before passing.
After a few more seconds, Hawkins gave a nod. “Should be okay now.”
Lilly activated the view screens again, and the outside world was projected around them. A brilliant, orange mushroom cloud rose up before them. Within seconds it matched their height and continued to rise into the stratosphere, while a massive ring spread out toward them, raging with the might of mankind’s most powerful weapon.
31
“Take us down,” Hawkins said, as the nuclear ring widened toward them. His stomach lurched as the X-35 dropped straight down. He heard Brice thump against something in the back and was positive the girl was trying her hardest to make the man’s flight as uncomfortable as possible. He didn’t blame her. Alicio Brice was connected to her tortured past. But this wasn’t the same man, and Hawkins suspected that the man’s defection from GOD might be genuine. If it was, keeping him alive was important. With his knowledge of GOD and genetics, he could be useful.
The Sidorenko came into view below them, cruising away from the nuclear blast at its back, still functioning, still in one piece.
Still shit out of luck.
The massive ruddy-black shape of Giger, hauling the still body of Karkinos, had not only survived the nuclear blast, it had closed the distance. If anything, all the Russians had managed to do was make it angry and turn a cautious approach into a mad rush.
“It’s getting smaller,” Brice observed, as the looming shadow surging up behind the Sidorenko shrank.
“It’s diving,” Hawkins said, his muscles tensing. He’d dealt with enough predators to know when one was about to strike. “Keep us at a safe distance.”
They hovered at five thousand feet, which still felt close, because of the carrier’s thousand foot length. A dark shape rose up below the port side, growing suddenly larger, and just before breaking the water, it resolved as the hideous, snarling face of Giger. With a burst of white water, the Kaiju lunged from the water and grasped onto the broad, flat deck with its four arms. The massive ship tilted from the sudden weight, but didn’t flip. Then the emaciated looking tail rose up from the ocean behind Giger and speared the control tower, before thrashing back and forth, removing the flight control, bridge and flag bridge, along with everyone in it. Some of the debris fell into the ocean, the rest scattered across the deck.
The spines along the creature’s bony exoskeletal back sprang up, like a wolf’s hackles. It scoured the deck, looking back and forth with its six red eyes. With a snarl, it climbed a little higher and plunged its tail into the deck. But it didn’t punch all the way through the ship. It’s controlling the power of its strike, Hawkins thought, as the creature lifted its tail free and stabbed it back into the deck again, sending debris flying and opening a second hole.
“What’s beneath there?” Hawkins asked.
Brice studied the scene for a moment. “Main hanger deck. It’s normally where they’d keep aircraft but—”
“It’s big enough to house Prime’s remains,” Lilly said. Hawkins didn’t need Brice to confirm it to know she was right.
“What use would it have for a petrified Gestorumque?” Brice asked.
“They’ve found soft tissue in the fossil remains of a T-Rex, right?” Lilly asked. “Prime is
what, a few thousand years old? Five thousand? Maybe it’s not quite beef jerky all the way through?”
“The Aeros have access to Gestorumque DNA.” Brice shook his head. “There’s no reason... It doesn’t matter. You still need to get Cole off of that ship.”
“There’re a few thousand men on board,” Hawkins said, watching as sailors started climbing out of various staircases, and leaping into the sea. Something about their urgency didn’t seem quite right. The ship was under attack by something horrifying, but the ship wasn’t about to go down, and Giger was showing no interest in anything beyond carving open the flight deck. The way the men were running over each other and flinging themselves into the ocean...
Something got loose, he thought.
GOD was once again reaping what they had sown. And there was nothing he could do to save the men below. Not from Giger, and not from whatever monsters they’d created.
But could he save Zachary Cole?
Should he?
The man would be a treasure trove of information, if they could capture him and make him talk. The files stolen from GOD had given them a lot of information, but much of it was still encrypted. If there really was a war coming, Cole might be their only chance to fully understand the enemy before they arrived.
Giger punched another hole in the deck and reached two of its four hands inside, tearing the deck back. The tail punched more holes, growing more twitchy and frantic with each movement, but it was still solely focused on the middle of the main deck, and what was hidden beneath it. If Cole was on the bridge, he was already a lost cause. But if he was still alive...
“Put us down on the aft deck,” Hawkins said. “Keep us hidden.”
“What?” Lilly said. “Are you nuts?”
“Cole could—”
“He deserves whatever he gets.”
Hawkins put his hand on her arm, “No one knows that better than me. But we’ve been running and hiding from that man for too long. Better to have the Devil in the cage than on the loose. It’s not impossible that he might survive and get away. I’d rather know exactly where he is, wouldn’t you?”
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