Authors: Marc Cerasini
Lieutenant Takado jumped to attention.
Admiral Willis waved her back to her chair. "We'll have no more of
that
, Lieutenant," he said with a drawl. "For the duration of this crisis, I'm your commanding officer, but all this salutin's gotta go."
There was an obvious twinkle in Uncle Maxwell's eyes, but only Brian could see it.
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Takado said, still standing at attention. Brian smiled. Obviously, she wasn't accustomed to the laid-back style of the Texas military man.
"I guess you've been watching television," the admiral said with a sigh. "The United Nations seems to be paralyzed - as usual. But the political aspect of the current crisis no longer concerns us. We've run out of time."
He scanned their faces. "Godzilla is changing direction and beginning to head for land. If he continues on his present course, he will come ashore on the main island of Honshu - perhaps near the city of Hamada..."
Yoshi gasped. Lieutenant Takado's face remained rigid, but her jaws tensed.
"The Russians, the Chinese, the British, and even the French are with us," the admiral continued. "At dawn, United States Air Force F-15 Strike Eagles from Osan Air Force Base in Korea will attack Godzilla from the air. This attack will be followed with an assault by warships of the Japanese Maritime Self-Defense Force. In short, tomorrow we hit Godzilla with everything we've got. And may God help us all."
Nick whistled. Yoshi smiled triumphantly. Brian felt a little sick.
Maybe I just don't have my sea legs yet
, he told himself.
The admiral scanned the faces in the room.
"Get your sleep," he ordered them sternly. "Tomorrow is your baptism by fire..."
May 31, 1998, 4:05 A.M.
Osan Air Force Base, South Korea
Captain Paul "the Gipper" Reagan - no relation to the former president of the United States - eased back on the throttle of his F-15E Strike Eagle. The twin-engine fighter/bomber was fast and sleek in the air, but down on the tarmac it almost seemed to waddle. The smart bombs that hung from both wings, and the huge fuel tanks, which were filled to capacity, weighted the aircraft down.
It was a bumpy ride as Captain Reagan slid in behind the next aircraft on the flight line. Easing the throttle back even farther, he "parked" his aircraft behind the two in front of him.
"How does everything check?" he asked his weapons systems officer, who sat in the cockpit behind him.
"Just fine, captain," Captain Jennifer "Doris" Day said into the microphone. "The link to the global positioning system is up and running, so I know where we're going. Weapons systems are a go."
Just then a familiar voice crackled into his earphones.
"Nice rudder, Doris!" Captain Jackson "T-Bone" Boudreau said from Stalker Four, the aircraft that eased into position behind them. Captain Reagan couldn't help but snicker.
"Yeah, Stalker Three," Boudreau's backseater, Juan "Tony" Orlando, chimed in. "That's a
real
nice rudder."
Captain Reagan heard his backseater sigh. "Adolescents!" she said. "Stop looking up my after-burners!"
Captain Day was one the first female weapons systems officers - or wizzos - in the squadron. As with any "new guy," she took a lot of ribbing - especially from Captain Boudreau, a Cajun from the bayou country of Louisiana. There were women at Osan, but most of them were pilots or technicians.
Captain Day was different. She liked to shoot - guns, bows and arrows, pool, you name it. She was particularly good at shooting smart bombs and missiles. That was why Captain Reagan's aircraft had been chosen to fly Stalker Three, and lead the second wave of the attack on Godzilla - right after Stalkers One and Two "softened up" the target.
A voice from the tower broke into their banter. The flight controller ordered them to "cut the chatter."
Captain Reagan began his third pre-flight check, just to be on the safe side.
While he worked, Reagan thought about the upcoming mission.
Fighting monsters is a lot different from fighting Iraqis
, the captain mused.
It's nothing like the Gulf War. No anti-aircraft, no fighter threat, no radar to tip the enemy off. This ought to be a milk run - but you never know.
He recalled how he felt that night, hack in 1990, when he was a rookie waiting to take off for his first combat mission over Baghdad.
"How do you feel, Doris?" he asked his backseater.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous," she confessed. "But I know I can do the job."
I know you can, too
, Reagan thought.
Or I wouldn't go up with you.
"Speaking of which," Captain Day continued, "I'll make you a wager!"
"Oh," he replied. "And what would
that
be?"
"I'll bet you that I can hit Godzilla right in the heart - with both smart bombs!" she stated with confidence.
"Just what'll you bet?" he asked.
She thought about it for a second. "If I miss the big lizard's heart, I'll do maintenance paperwork for a month."
"Whooo!" Captain Reagan whistled. "And what if you
don't
miss?"
"If I don't miss, you let me land this plane when we get back!"
Captain Reagan sighed.
Why do all backseaters want to be pilots?
he asked himself. "All right," he agreed finally. "But it's against regulations."
"Hey," she replied confidentially. "If I take down Godzilla, they'll wave medals in our faces when we land, not regulations."
Just then the tower came on-line again. "Stalker Flight, prepare for takeoff," the voice on the radio commanded.
* * *
Brian Shimura sweated in his tiny bunk aboard the
Kongo-Maru
. He turned over with a moan and threw the sheets off his body.
It's hot in here, he thought.
Then he thought about it again.
No, it isn't... I'm scared.
The revelation depressed him. Rationally, he knew he had a right to be scared.
After all, I'm nineteen years old, I'm only a student intern, and I'm going into a sea battle with a monster. Who wouldn't be scared?
he argued with himself.
But neither Yoshi nor Nick seemed afraid, he noticed. Nick was snoring away on the top bunk, and Yoshi seemed exhilarated by the whole thing.
But Yoshi's the kind of guy who wants to go to Bosnia and shoot combat footage
, Brian thought bitterly.
Why am I so afraid?
he asked himself for the hundredth time.
I'm not a coward - I've surfed, skied, bungee-jumped, and even went skydiving once. It was fun. Why is this so different?
Maybe became the whole thing is so... primal. Hunting for some freak of nature, a giant beast that could kill us all.
The thought made Brian feel like some caveman, on the hunt for a dinosaur, like in that movie where Raquel Welch wore a fur loincloth.
Maybe that's it!
he reasoned.
Maybe it's such a primitive, basic fear, a fear of natural terrors that still lives at the core of all of our beings.
It's man against nature, that's what it is.
But suddenly, Brian felt a chill wash over him. He shivered and pulled the sheets back over himself.
Nature almost always wins
, he thought glumly.
Nature - in the guise of a bad heart - even beat my mother.
And, at that moment, he realized that there was another reason why he was so afraid. Brian had watched his mother die, and he'd learned what death really was.
* * *
When Nick, Yoshi, and Brian came on deck that morning, they were surprised by the vision that awaited them. Somehow, overnight, the
Kongo-Maru
had become surrounded by warships. Two destroyers, four frigates, and an array of support vessels steamed through the waves on either side of them. It was an impressive armada.
The day was clear and cloudless, the weather cool, and the Sea of Japan was mostly calm. with only a light chop.
When they reached the ship's bridge, Admiral Willis greeted them. Lieutenant Takado was there, wearing a combat uniform this time. Dr. Nobeyama was present, too. It was the first time any of them had seen the older man aboard the
Kongo-Maru
.
The bridge was impressive. Windows lined the front, but on either side were huge television screens feeding live pictures of the action from a dozen remote cameras. Other instruments lined the walls. Many men in white lab coats manned these monitors.
"Good morning," Admiral Willis greeted them. "Did you all have breakfast?"
They nodded their heads politely, but in truth, they had all been too nervous to eat. Nick claimed he felt seasick. Yoshi said he wanted an empty stomach to "keep the fear up." But Brian knew it was just nervousness on all of their parts.
The admiral turned and faced the monitors again. "The F-15s are about ten minutes from the target," he said. The admiral pointed out the window.
Far ahead of them, visible in the clear atmosphere, Godzilla waded across the Sea of Japan. Even at this distance, more than three miles, he was majestic. The waves lapped at his belly and upper thighs, but the rest of him was fully exposed. The monster seemed oblivious to the ships that stalked him and the helicopters that buzzed around him.
"We'll never get a better shot at Godzilla than this," the admiral said. "Unless he comes onto land, of course."
Brian, Nick, and Yoshi heard the blast of a ships horn from the largest of the warships. The Japanese fleet sped up. Soon the ships were pulling ahead of the
Kongo-Maru
. The navy was preparing to out-flank Godzilla.
"We'll hang back here," the admiral told them. "But when the fighting starts, we'll switch to hydrofoil and circle around the battle." He pointed to the television monitors on both sides of the bridge. They showed images of Godzilla from various angles.
"There are dozens of remote cameras," he said. "The cameras are mounted on helicopters, ships, small patrol craft - even high above in AWACs aircraft. Everything is being fed to us and recorded." The admiral couldn't hide the excitement in his voice.
Dr. Nobeyama, too, looked eager for the action to begin. "We'll learn more about Godzilla today than we have in the last forty years," the Japanese scientist remarked with enthusiasm.
Yoshi tapped Brian on the shoulder. "I'm going topside," he said, "to set up my camera on the superstructure." He turned swiftly and left the bridge.
As Yoshi departed, he passed a tall Japanese man with a shaven head and tattoos running up both muscular arms. This man stepped onto the bridge. Brian noticed that the stranger had cold eyes, and his mouth was stretched into a grim frown. Admiral Willis turned and spoke to the tattooed man in fluent Japanese.
Brian touched Lieutenant Takado's arm. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing to the man.
"That's Buntaro," she answered. "He's a harpooner from the Japanese whaling fleet. If the aircraft and ships fail to destroy Godzilla, then we will have to get close enough to fire the trident harpoon into the creature's body.
"Buntaro is an expert marksman," she continued. "He will fire that harpoon from the gun on the bow."
"I want to go on deck with him," Brian said, suddenly making up his mind. "I mean, if it comes to that..."
"I do not think that Admiral Willis would approve. It will be very dangerous," Lieutenant Takado objected. "We will be very close to Godzilla."
"If the monster decides to destroy this vessel, it won't matter if I'm on deck or hiding in my bunk. We'll all die just the same. And anyway, my uncle dragged me out here - he can't object if I actually
do
something!"
"
Hai
," she answered, admiring his bravery. "That is quite true. But I'm still not sure -"
"I'm going," Brian repeated. Lieutenant Takado heard the determination in his voice loud and clear.
"Admiral!" one of the crewmen shouted from the radar station. "The helicopters are clearing out to give the fighters room.... Yes! We have F-15s incoming."
* * *
"Stalker One to Stalker Three, come in."
Captain Reagan heard the call over his earphones. It was from one of the two aircraft that would lead the attack. He keyed his mike and responded. "This is Stalker Three, over."
"We see the target ahead. Stalker Three," the voice replied. "We're going in with machine guns... just to test the water."
"Be careful, Stalker One and Two," Captain Reagan said. "Come out of the sun if at all possible. Hopefully the creature will be blinded by the glare."
"Roger, Stalker Three," the voice acknowledged. And then Captain Reagan heard the pilot cry, "Here we go!" over the radio. The first two F-15s broke formation and dived toward the monster far below.
* * *
Two F-15s streaked out of the sky and flashed over the
Kongo-Maru
. The sound of their twin Jet engines was deafening. From his vantage point on top of the bridge, Yoshi covered his ears. On the bridge, Nick whooped. "Go get 'em, boys!"
* * *
As Stalkers One and Two neared Godzilla, the monster's head filled their sights. "Fire!" the pilot of Stalker One commanded. Both aircraft opened up with their M61A1 Vulcan 20mm minicannons, mounted on the right side of the fuselage. The guns rained hot lead onto the target.
Bright yellow explosions erupted all over Godzilla's face, chest, and neck. They looked tiny against the creature's vast bulk. For almost five seconds, the F-15s poured bullets into Godzilla, until their shells were depleted.
"Break off!" the lead pilot cried into his mike. In a graceful maneuver, the aircraft separated. They both flew past Godzilla at eye level, on either side of the creature's massive head.
Godzilla howled in rage and confusion. With a speed that belied his size, Godzilla's head turned. He followed one of the F-15s - Stalker Two - with his cold, reptilian gaze.
Blue lightning danced up and down Godzilla's dorsal spikes. The monster opened his mouth, revealing twin rows of sharp, ragged teeth. A blast of blue-white fire shot out of Godzilla's mouth. The beam readied out toward Stalker Two and just brushed its wing.
The whole airplane shuddered. The pilot jinked the aircraft to one side, pulling it away from the monster's blast. When his fighter was out of harm's way, the pilot examined the wing. Paint was burned away, and some of the metal was scorched and even melted in spots.