I guess I go back to yankin' my crank.

Rice walked out of the briefing, the muscles in his face tightening. All that planning to get Gamera and Godzilla to work together against the Gyaos just went down the crapper. He had wanted this mission, needed it. Not only because it was his duty to defend America – Any America, I guess – but he and his SEALs could focus on something productive than constantly worrying about being stuck on this Earth.

So now what do I do about that? He could always put them through PT and drills. The base had to have a firing range. Burning through a few hundred rounds was always a great stress reliever, and a way to stay sharp. But without an actual life or death mission, they could only train for so long before they went back to dwelling on their predicament.

Rice looked over his shoulder, past the squadron leaders to the door of the conference room. Dr. Nagamine stayed behind. General Torrez wanted her to brief the monster – kaiju on this Earth – experts in the various coalition nations on the Gyaos.

At least she's doing something useful.

Major Yamagata emerged from the room. He made eye contact and nodded. Rice waited as the Marine pilot came over.

"Sorry we're not using your turtle for this one."

Rice shrugged and started toward the stairs. "Not the first time I've been cockteased with a big mission."

"Don't count yourself out yet," said Yamagata. "In my experience, kaiju don't go down easy. We still might need Gamera."

"Mm." Rice took the steps, eyes on his feet, thinking. Whether they needed Gamera or not, they'd still have to do a BDA – Bomb Damage Assessment – of Iwo Jima to make sure all the Gyaos were dead. That required more than aerial reconnaissance. They needed boots on the ground.

SEAL boots, specifically. Not only were he and his men capable of that, but searching the island might help them find clues to get back to their Earth. He had no idea what those clues would look like, or if they even existed. He was grasping at straws. Right now, however, those straws were all he had.

"So how did you wind up fighting giant monsters?" Rice turned to Yamagata as they neared the first floor. "Or kaiju, or whatever you call them."

"I happen to be a damn good pilot. That's what the people who put together the First JSCS said. And what the hell, I like a challenge."

"And what about joining Uncle Sam's Misguided Children?"

"I wanted to do something different. My sister's in the Army, my dad was in the Army during Desert Storm, my great-grandfather was also Army, 442nd Regimental Combat Team."

"The 442nd?" Rice pushed open the glass door and stepped outside into a light rain. "The Japanese-American soldiers in World War Two?"

Yamagata grinned. "Nice to see you had them on your Earth, too. Anyway, I figured we contributed enough Yamagatas to the Army, time to spread the wealth to the other services. That and I used to watch Black Sheep Squadron on Nick at Nite and thought Pappy Boyington was the shit."

Rice threw back his head and laughed, catching sight of one of the Filipino MPs trailing them.

"So what made you want to be a SEAL?" asked Yamagata.

"I grew up a news junkie." Rice snorted out a laugh. "I know, weird thing for a kid to be. But I liked knowing what was going on in the world, even thought about becoming a reporter. But the more I saw all the terrorist scumbags in the world brutalizing and slaughtering people, the more I wanted to stop it. Can't do that with a camera and a tape recorder. When I said I wanted to go into the military, my parents and some of my teachers tried to talk me out of it, told me I could go to a good school and make something of myself. So I went to Annapolis and became a SEAL. I actually proved them right . . . not the way they were hoping, however."

Yamagata chuckled.

Talk of his parents formed a dark hole in Rice's chest. He lowered his head. "I wonder what the Navy on my Earth told my folks about what happened to us." He frowned. "And my wife."

"Sorry. I can't imagine how hard this has to be."

"You got that right, especially with Rita pregnant."

Yamagata closed his eyes, sympathy radiating from his face. "I really wish there was something I could do. Hell, I'll be honest. I don't know if there's anyone on this planet that can help."

Rice grunted. "Thanks for that dose of honesty."

"Did you want me to pipe sunshine up your ass?"

"I'll take honesty any day, no matter how unpleasant."

They walked in silence, Rice staring straight ahead, barely taking in the runway and buildings around him. Did he have to accept the fact there was no going home? He didn't want to. That would be quitting, and SEALs never quit.

There's a difference between not quitting and accepting reality. Rice wasn't ready to accept reality, not yet.

Yamagata's cell phone chimed. He checked the screen before putting it to his ear. "Yeah, Nicole . . . What is it . . ." He glanced at Rice. "Yeah, he's right here with me."

The Marine pilot slowed his pace. Rice's brow furrowed, wondering what was going on.

"You sure about that . . . We're on our way back from the admin building . . . Okay, we can meet you there in five."

Yamagata pocketed his phone.

"What is it?" asked Rice.

"Nicole's got some new info on Iwo Jima she wants to show us."

"Who?"

"Sorry. Captain Nicole Fox, my girlfriend. She's the squadron's SIGINT officer. She wants us to meet her at the mess hall."

They picked up their pace, anticipation surging through Rice.

Don't get your hopes up, Jim. He had a hard time following his own advice, imagining this Nicole telling him she'd found some portal or whatnot that could get them home.

They approached the mess hall. Rice spotted a slender, dark-haired woman wearing glasses and an Airman Battle Uniform standing near the entrance. Captain Fox, he presumed. She did a nice job rockin' the hot librarian look, if librarians wore camouflage.

Yamagata introduced them, then said, "So what do you have?"

Fox held up her tablet. "One of our drones picked this up a few minutes ago." She tapped the screen and flipped it around so they could see.

The image showed a beige and green landscape. Iwo Jima. Rice's breathing slowed. He expected to see . . . he didn't know. A blue, swirling portal like in sci-fi movies.

Instead, he watched four people crouch behind a clump of vegetation. Two men, a woman, and a child.

"Survivors?" His head snapped up. "There are survivors on Iwo Jima?"

Fox nodded. "It's the first time we've spotted any. I already let General Torrez know. He said he was going to contact the Pentagon to get a rescue mission authorized before the bombers arrive. But that's not all."

"What else have you got?" asked Yamagata.

Fox's gaze shifted to Rice. "The analysts back at Beale found some more anomalies in the footage. There were three times Iwo Jima winked out for a split second. Plus, there are elevated readings in the local electromagnetic field."

The Air Force captain drew herself to her full height, her face aglow. "This could mean the island is getting ready to phase back to its Earth. Commander, we may have a way to get your and your team home."

TO BE CONTINUED