Godzilla: Tactical Assault

by Locutus6

This story is a written in the format of a Godzilla TV series. Chapters are basically episodes. It is presently in season 2 and Godzilla's reign of terror has begun. (Latest chapter: Double Dragon).

11. Chapter 11: Treacherous Water

Chapter 11: Treacherous Water

Marcus had begun the second leg of his journey. His plane was halfway to French controlled Tunis in North Africa. Once there, they were to board a US navy destroyer, which would sail them the rest of the way to the research facility where the egg was housed in Southern France . The two long flights had taken their toll on Marcus' group. He, along with the rest of the passengers, were fast asleep.

Marcus was awakened by the sound of the radio crackling in the cockpit. He could not make out what the voice on he other end of the receiver was saying, but he heard the pilot reply back: "Understood." The radio chatter stopped from there and the pilot and co-pilot started talking amongst themselves for a moment. When they were done talking, the co-pilot unbuckled himself from his seat and came out of the cockpit. He quietly came up to Admiral Nimitz and tapped him on the shoulder to rouse him.

"Yes, what is it?" The Admiral asked, wiping crusts from his eyes and re-acclimating himself with the waking world.

"Admiral, we just got word that Varan has reappeared in Germany. Thought you would like to know."

"Have the Germans engaged it?" Nimitz asked.

"Not yet." The co-pilot answered.

"I see, thank you." The admiral dismissed the younger officer. The conversation had stirred Sgt. Brock and Lieutenant-Commander Williams. they had caught just enough of the conversation to know Varan was back on the prowl. Nimitz looked deep in thought, considering the situation.

"So what is Varan exactly? Lieutenant-Commander Williams asked.

"Well, beyond a monster, he's some sort of amphibian." Marcus answered.

"What, like a huge horned toad?" Brock asked.

"More like a horned salamander, because of the tail in all, but yeah." Marcus replied. "Of course, it's a lot more dangerous."

"I'm not sure what the big deal is." Williams said. "How dangerous can it be compared to what we've seen already? It's not heavily armored like Angirus, it can't breathe fire or go underground like Baragon, and it can't fly at the unbelievable speeds like the Rodans. Sure it's big, but that just means it's a big target too. And it can glide, so what? That just means fighters don't have to dive down to attack it. It's not incredibly fast in flight and isn't that maneuverable either. They outta be able to shoot it down easily." The commander said dismissively.

"You might feel differently if you saw one of these things in action." Brock shot back.

"We've been hearing for years now just how tough the German military machine has become, they should be able to handle it." Williams continued to be dismissive.

"I'd remind you that we've yet to kill even one of these things." Brock countered. "The best we've managed to do is deflect an attack or two. Nothing much to hang our hats on if you ask me. Until we find a way to kill these things, we are fighting a losing battle. So far we've just been hanging on by the skin of our teeth. That won't cut it forever."

"We've beaten them twice." Williams argued.

"Yeah, but on those two occasions we've managed to pull off what we generously call victories, they were both on ground that was well prepared ahead of time and of our choosing." Brock counter argued. "We're not going to be able to lure these things forever. What happens when one of them hits us somewhere that is not well prepared and not of our choosing? I think we're in for a nightmare scenario the first time ones of these creatures manages to hit a major city. And believe me, that day is coming."

"Having been on the ground in a small village when Baragon was on the warpath, I can tell you it's not something I'd wish on anyone." Marcus spoke up in support of Brock's argument. "We should do everything within out power to prevent that from happening again. And to Brock's first point, I feel like these creatures are intelligent, I doubt they will fall for the same tricks twice.

In Germany, Reinhart and Fritz were speeding their way towards lake Muritz in an army truck. They had tried to radio the patrol forces stationed there to keep a look out, but so far they had received no word back. Reinhart took it as a bad sign. Either the soldiers were too busy to respond, or unable to respond.

Their truck climbed the hill that overlooked the lake. As it came over the hill they got their first look at the situation unfolding. They could see Varan moving through the wooded landscape, tramping down trees as he went. It had just about reached a ridge on the far side of the valley. Below, the smoldering ruins of the restaurant remained around lake-shore. There was no sign of the guards.

Fritz stopped the truck. His eyes started to dart around the landscape, measuring the situation. As he did, there was a noise that drew both his and the monster's attention. The monster had just reached the zenith of the cliff it was climbing. It looked back and saw a platoon of tanks filing out of the woods on the opposite side of the valley. Fritz had radioed the armored division while in route as a precaution. It was a wise decision as it turned out.

Reinhart was less measured than Fritz, his blood boiled at the first sight of the monster. It was a mixture of hate and terror. His head was filled with hopeless notions of revenge for his family. In the space of a second, he relived every terrifying moment of Varan's attack. His only solace was his hunch was right on the money about the monster using watershed to avoid detection and the tanks closing in might be able to exact some revenge on his behalf.

As it turned out though, the tanks were too late and too far out of range to be a threat to the monster immediately. It simply ignored them and leap into the air, gliding down the other side of the hill. The monster was able to stay just high enough to skim above the treeline, avoiding rocks that jetted out along its path. It landed safely at the bottom.

From his vantage point, Fritz could see the path the tanks would have to take to catch up with the beast. He radioed the platoon leader of the armored column to rerouted his units in that direction. The tanks quickly started to move to the road that would take them into the next valley. Just like that, the chase was on. The heavy tanks struggled up the hill at 25 miles per hour, while Fritz and Reinhart speed ahead of them to get a better read on the situation just over the next horizon.

As he drove, Fritz radioed in their position and situation to Headquarters so other Wehrmacht forces could be alerted and converge on the area. He hoped they would be able to cut off, or at least slow down, the monster long enough for reinforcements to catch up. He wasn't confident what they had on hand would be enough to get the job done.

As Reinhart and Fritz came over the hill they sighted Varan again. The monster was surprising agile for something its size. It could move fast when it wanted to. Fortunately for them, it had slowed down. The monster must have felt secure that it had left any threats safely behind it.

Reinhart and Fritz were about halfway down the winding roads of the hill when Headquarters radioed back to them. They advised Fritz that a second armored column was close by, just a couple miles ahead of the monster. They were on the way, getting into position to block its path. Fritz spotted another good vantage point and pulled off the road. The spot served his purpose perfectly. Once stopped, he grabbed a par of binoculars from under his seat.

By that time, the panzers that were following started to crest the hill behind them. Varan meanwhile was still in the valley below. It was marching onward care free, seemingly unaware of them. Fritz shifted his sights to the other side of the valley to look for the second tank platoon. They were not there yet, but they would be any minute. Once they arrived, Varan would be surrounded and the assault could begin.

As Varan got halfway through the valley, tanks on the far side ridge began to arrive. The monster spotted them and stopped. It seemed to be considering what it should do next. Varan roared out a warning, not understanding what the tanks were, but recognizing them as a threat by their aggressive advance towards him.

Seeing them as hostile, Varan had to decide if he should fight or flee. His enemies might be small, but they were numerous. About the same time, Varan became aware of the first tank column approaching from behind him. Watching Varan through his binoculars, Fritz thought the monster looked distressed when it realized the tanks had followed him from the other valley too. Only then did it realize that it was being stalked by what it saw as little hostile creatures.

The tanks were still out of range, which bought the monster a little time to think. It looked around, considering its environment. To the left there was a steep hill that would be difficult to climb. It would likely come under attack while trying to escape if it went that way. But to the right there was salvation, a small lake. It didn't take Varan long to decide what he should do next. It bolted for the water as both tanks columns closed in.

Varan rushed forward and splashed into the water, sending giant waves in its wake to both sides of the lake's shore. The waves pushed far beyond the tree lines surrounding the lake before retreating back within their normal boundaries. It took Varan mire moments to swim across the entire lake. As it got to the other side it looked back, as if to see if the tiny hostiles were able to traverse the water as well. It sat and waited.

The panzers caught up and stopped short of the lake, getting into position. Fritz noted Varan almost looked pleased when the tanks pursuing it stopped at the waterline. The tanks however had not given up. They had finally managed to close within firing range with their cannons and opened up.

A cluster of shells arched over the waters of the lake in a near-synchronized attack. They quickly found their target on the other side. Each shell landed on the tough armored carapace over Varan's back. To the shock of Fritz and Reinhart, the monster barely seemed to noticed them. There was no noticeable damage as the ammo popped against the sturdy armor.

The German tankers were equally surprised by the ineffectiveness of their attack. The tank commander however was undeterred and ordered a second volley. He instructed his men to readjust their sights and the panzers thundered off a second time. Some of their shots hit Varan a little lower than the first volley, hammering against its legs and belly and avoiding the more sturdy back armor. This time Varan did take notice. There was still no noticeable damage, but at least it reacted to the explosions.

At this point, the tanks that were not already in ideal firing positions started to make their way around the edges of the lake and Varan took notice. Again, the monster watched and appeared to measure its options. Surprisingly, Varan once again decided to move off, leaving its attackers safely behind it. The tanks were not fast enough to keep pace and it seemed to recognize that.

Fritz and Reinhart put the truck back into drive and took off after it. Meanwhile the monster was putting more and more distance between itself and the tanks with every passing moment. Fritz updated headquarters to the developing situation and in return they notified him that air support was in en route.

The Luftwaffe arrived on the scene just minutes later, or at least a small portion of it had. What they had at their disposal was not not the whole German air force, but rather the a collection of the few assets that happened to be on patrol in the area at the time. They had been patched together to form a makeshift attack force while other planes were being scrambled at that very moment from nearby bases. Trouble was, they wouldn't arrive for at least twenty-five more minutes.

Until then, it was up to the handful of aircraft to slow the monster down. Slowing the monster down was exactly what was needed at that moment. The tank's failed assault had altered Varan's path and it was now on a crash course towards a tiny village.

With everything happening so quickly, there had been no time to alert the villagers to the immediate danger. So many Military aircraft flying over them probably should have been an indication to them that something was wrong, but warplanes had been flying over so frequently in the last couple of days on regular patrols that it didn't alarm them the way it should have.

As it stood, it was squarely on the pilot's shoulders to prevent disaster. The aircraft they had on hand in the motley flight group were a mixture of Messerschmidt 109 fighters, Junkers Ju 87 dive bombers, junkers Ju 88 medium bombers, and Heinkel He 111 medium bombers, nothing super heavy. Still, they were the only hope for the citizens in the village below. They quickly developed a plan, dividing into two attack wings. The fighters would come in low with their machine guns to distract the beast, and hopefully do some damage, while the bombers would hit it from above.

Trouble was, it wasn't clear how tough the beasts armor was. The Germans had obtained information about previous assaults on the other monsters. If Varan's armored plates were anything like Angirus' they would be wasting their time, but if it was more on par with Baragon's then they might stand a fighting chance. The pilots didn't figure they would be able to kill Varan anyway, but they hoped they could at least get it to change course if they harassed it enough.

The first group of planes came in for their attack and Varan spotted them immediately. He stopped in his tracks, and like with the tanks before, he appeared to be trying to figure out what the planes were. When the first 109 pilot opened up on him with its machine guns, Varan knew they were just like the tanks, hostile. Unlike before though, the monster had run out of patience. This time it would not avoid the fight.

A second fighter the swooped down and got a nasty surprise. Varan leap up into the air and caught the plane with its mouth and talons. The aluminum fuselage of the air-frame easily bent under the pressure of Varan's closing jaws, crushing both the aircraft and its trapped pilot. Somewhere along the line, the fuel tank caught fire and the plane exploded in the monster's mouth. The explosion did not injure Varan in the slightest, but he did seem surprised by the pop and sudden taste of fire.

Varan stopped for a brief moment, confused by the taste and texture of metal. Perhaps it had expected the plane to be some type of organic pest it could eat? The machine elements were very alien to the ancient amphibian and he didn't like it. He spit out the flaming wreckage and moved on.

Above him, the first dive bomber had gotten into position and dropped its payload square onto Varan's back. The answer to just how durable the monster's armor was quickly became apparent. The resulting explosion didn't even make him flinch. The rest of the pilots watched in horror as they realized just how outmatched they were. Any thoughts about killing the monster with bombs evaporated.

Unwilling to give up, a medium bomber pilot was the next to attack. It carried several heavier bombs than the dive bomber, but despite this advantage, the attack was even less effective. Dive bombers had the advantage of putting their payload right on target by getting in super close and guiding them in. This was not the case with traditional bombers. Even low flying medium bombers relied on a lot of luck for accuracy. Out of the twelve bombs released by the Heinkel, only one of them was a direct hit and the monster showed no more regard for it than the first hit.

Varan pressed on, unimpressed by the firepower the planes. It managed to snag another aircraft when a Junker bomber tried to press in too low. The pilot tried to pull up when he saw he had caught the monster's attention, but it was already too late. Varan jumped up for it. While the monster failed to catch the plane with its jaws, it did manage to cleave off the wing of the plane with the sharp spines running up its back.

Having lost a wing, the bomber went completely out of control. One crewman somehow made it to the side door with a parachute to escape the doomed aircraft, he even managed to jump out, but the surviving wing of the plane struck him after he jumped out. The man was pulverized by the impact and his chute never opened. He hit the ground along with the aircraft. The bombs still within the bay of the plane exploded the second it hit the ground. The resulting fire narrowed the already slim chance any of the other crew were still alive.

After that, none of the other aircraft dared get in close to Varan again. They instead chose to harassed the monster at a safe distance with their machine guns and inaccurately dropped bombers from high above. The only good that came of it was the villagers were alerted by all the commotion. They sighted the monster and started the slow process of evacuating. The smart ones dropped everything and immediately ran for the hills, having heard in detail what befell to the residents of Essenhiem when the monster had come calling there. The less intelligent townsfolk tried to pack up and bring their belongings with them. It would prove a fatal miscalculation for some.

Despite the best efforts of the Luftwaffe pilots, Varan had not changed direction. It spotted the village and stubbornly held its course as bombs and bullets fell around it. The monster crashed through the first few houses it came across, having learnt that smashing houses sometimes yielded snacks inside. It found a few.

The airmen above watched helplessly as the monster rampaged. Most of the aircraft had already expended their ammunition. There was nothing more they could actively do to help the situation. Their attack had been a wash, but it had brought about one positive thing. Their distraction had bought the ground forces following Varan precious time to catch up with he monster.

Varan was about halfway through the village when the tanks arrived on the scene in mass. They thundered down the main road and started to spread out along the treeline. Moments later they poured out of the forest. This attack was slightly better coordinated and effective than the first.

Fritz and Reinhart were again nearby helping to spot for the gunners. Anything hitting Varan above his armor belt might as well have missed, so accuracy was important. Unfortunately, anything hitting Varan below the armor belt only seemed to annoy him, akin to getting a slight pinch. The tanks just didn't have the firepower to do any meaningful damage.

After several more volleys, Varan did something strange. It came to a stop and remained still, making itself a perfect target for the tanks. The attacks paused for a moment. The gunners had been moving the turrets of their panzers to keep up with the monster's progress and they had to suddenly stop and wheel back to where they had been before.

When the first shell in the renewed attack hit Varan, it sent out a gush of fluid as it exploded against the monster's side. At first, the crews inside tanks thought they had finally done some substantial damage, but what had squished out of Varan was not blood. It was instead some type of frothy white substance.

Several more tanks fired, yielding similar results. The white fluid splashed all over the houses in close proximity to the monster. One of the panzers that had ventured in closer than the rest also got doused by a large quantity of the substance.

Fritz and Reinhart curiously watched the tank as the liquid started to sink into the crevasses of the machine, finding its way to the inner workings where the crew was located. Moments later, the men inside the panzer came boiling out of their machine. The only other time Reinhart has seen men move like that was when some of his friends had knocked down a hornets nest.

Whatever the substance was, it must have been extremely toxic. The men running from the tank appeared to be badly burnt from where the fluid had touched them. One of the men, the one with the most burn marks, dropped over in the street. Then another man fell. One after another, they collapsed until the entire crew was down.

The men had been moving like they were on fire only a moment before and now lay motionless. Reinhart could only assume they were dead. The display had an effect on the rest of the tank crews. None of them dared fire another shot for fear of spreading more of the toxic brew and sharing the same fate of their comrades.

Reinhart looked back at Varan, who was now dripping with the slimy substance. It seemed to be leaking out of every one of its pours. In fact, there was so much of the fluid that it was beginning to run up and down the cobblestone streets of the town. People who had still be hiding in their homes where forced to run out, wanting nothing to do with what was coming at them.

Though most of the tank crews had already figured out continuing the attack was ill advised on their own, Reinhart still heard the tank commander crackle over the radio ordering all units to hold fire, otherwise they'd risk spreading the unknown substance all over the area and exposing the retreating civilians. Clearly, attacking the monster would do more harm than good at that point.

Seeing that the attack had ceased, Varan began to move again. It left a trail of the secretion behind like a snail as he left, covering his retreat. The tank commander's first urge was to follow it through town, but doing so would to mean having to drive directly through the slimy substance and he didn't like that idea one bit.

Varan's new course was taking him along the only road going towards a mountain path, meaning there was no chance the panzers could directly pursue him without coming into contact with the slime-trail. Seeing little other choice, the tank commander was forced to order the armored column to go the long way around, avoiding the town and road all together.

Two hours later, after a very long detour, the column of panzers had just about caught up with Varan again nearby the Elbe River. They had been chasing the monster over rough terrain for the better part of three hours already and were down to less than half of their fuel tanks. If the chase persisted for much longer they would be in danger of running out of gas.

However, some good news had developed in the meantime. While the monster had been retreating northward, an artillery unit had arrived and they just might just have the firepower needed to finally tip the battle in the German's favor.

Varan had stopped moving, apparently resting. The use of its slime defense might have taken some of the fight out of it. Reinhart theorized that it could be slightly dehydrated given that it was an amphibian and had been away from a source of water for such a long time. The use of its odd ability probably compounded that issue. Fritz and Reinhart agreed on that much.

The break in action meant that the pair had time to examine the bodies of the men who had been exposed to Varan's secretions. It was clear that the men had not died from their burns alone. In fact, one of the men had barely been burnt at all. There was only a slight touch of it on his wrist. Still, the substance had killed him just the same as the others, it had simply taken longer. He was the last one to die.

Samples of the muck were very carefully collected from the streets and sent back and to the lab to be studied. Reinhart already had a working theory though. He felt that the substance was some type of poison. The burns were on the men were just incidental, a product of the extremely corrosive nature of the substance. However, that part was just meant to be a vehicle for the poison to enter the bloodstream of the victim.

If the the wounds were compared to other corrosive chemical burns, most of the exposed men would not have died, at least not as quickly. No, there was clearly something more at work. The deaths were in order of most exposed to least, which was not a coincidence. Higher exposure rates correlated directly with quicker deaths. None the less, any level of exposure still meant death within a matter of seconds. Clearly, whatever Varan was using as a poison defense was extremely potent.

However, what wasn't clear, was if there was a minimal level of contact a person could survive. Would a mere drop be lethal? Even less that that? Reinhart was aware of some frog species producing neurotoxins that were so powerful they could stop the heart of a grown man even with the slightest amount of exposure. This did not bode well and presented a big problem when attacking the monster.

Fritz walked up and pulled Reinhart away from his thoughts. They needed to get moving if they were to catch up with the tanks.

The Luftwaffe had arrived in force and had been keeping tabs on Varan in the meantime. They were keeping their distance. It had been decided that the tanks and aircraft would be held back while the artillery was set up in the hills above the monster. Planes and tanks made too much noise and would betray their approach. Both would simply stay on standby until the big guns opened up.

The Germans were quickly learning what was not working. They hoped that their artillery would have the right balance of firepower and accuracy the aircraft and tanks lacked individually in their previous attacks. If they could just get the right amount of firepower focused into the right area they might finally start having some effect.

Trucks quietly started bringing in the artillery into the hills above Varan and crews quickly put them together as discreetly as possible. All was going well. The cannons were all just about set up when a truck driver revved his engine a little too much fighting to get up a hill. The noise alerted Varan to the growing danger around it.

The artillery was still well hidden in the foliage and Varan was not able to pinpoint them. Still, he felt threat around him and his instinct was to retreat. The monster almost seemed annoyed that it was still being pursued. It had barely had a moments peace all morning.

With the sudden movement of the monster, the artillery crews were left scrambling to make final preparations for the assault. They quickly loaded three and a half inch shells into their weapons. The monster was moving away, but still well within range of their guns. The cannons began to roar and salvos began to shower down around Varan.

Unfortunately, the monster had moved far enough away by this point that the cannons had to be raised up and their volleys were firing in an arch, plummeting downward. The difference being the the artillery shells were landing on the armored back of Varan and not hitting him on the sides as planned.

Once it was clear that they had lost the element of surprise, the tanks were sent back in to pursue the monster once again. They followed the road on a cliff-side overlooking the monster at it retreated. This firing position was no good. It guaranteed all their shots would land above the armor belt like the artillery was. All they could do for the time being was continue to pursue it.

The artillery fire began to die down as the monster continued forward, slowly getting out of their range. The cannons could be packed up to follow, but it would be a a while before they could catch up. The monster had outmaneuvered the Germans again. The panzers were already starting to loose ground and it wouldn't be very long before their fuel reserves would run dry.

The decisive moment came when Varan found a bridge crossing along the Elbe river. Remembering from earlier that the tanks couldn't swim, the monster appeared to have gotten itself an idea. It changed course and climbed onto the superstructure of the bridge. The support beams gave way almost instantly under the creature's weight. Within seconds, the entire structure gave way and the bridge collapsed into the river below with Varan on top of it.

The river was swollen high with all the recent rainfall, but Varan was far too big to disappear into it. The water only came up to the very bottom portions of its chest. With the bridge destroyed, Varan crossed to the other side and looked back to see what became of its pursuers.

Reinhart and Fritz arrived about this time to witness the final moments of the battle. The tanks had come to a halt, still on the road overlooking the river. It was clear to the commander that they had lost the day. They certainly would not be able to cross the corpse of a bridge the monster left sticking out of the river.

Nearly out of fuel and out of options the Wehrmacht would have to concede victory to the monster. It could do whatever it wanted now and there was little they could do to stop it. They would have to regroup, refuel, and find another crossing to begin again tomorrow.

Marcus' plane finally arrived at the airfield in Tunis and a car was waiting to take them directly to the USS Reeves, a Mahan class destroyer, which was waiting for them in the harbor.

The Reeves was an aged destroyer that appeared to have seen its share of wear and tear over the years. Being used to the grandeur of the Enterprise, the Reeves inspired a great deal less aw. Marcus realized that he had taken for granted the majestic flagship while he was walking up the ramp of old beat up old destroyer.

He had a foreboding feeling climbing up the rails with his bag. A certain unspoken something was gnawing in the back of his mind, telling him the next leg of the journey would be no pleasure cruise. Marcus tried to push it out of his mind. The sun was high in the sky, there was a gentile breeze in the air, and they had places to be. His feeling of uneasy would have to take a back seat.

The Reeves was underway in less than a half-hour and Marcus was starting to settle down. Admiral Nimitz spent most his time on the bridge talking with the captain of the ship, the recently promoted Captain Shack. He was a man eager to make a good impression on the admiral.

Marcus only met Captain Shack briefly when he had come to welcome the admiral aboard, but he immediately got the impression that Shack might have been promoted a little too early. He had a nervous energy about him. When they left port he got distracted and forgot to order the anchor be fully raised. The Reeves damaged the vessel moored next to them with the chain attached to the anchor scraping their hull. Fortunately the damage was only minor, but still, a bad start to their journey.

If that wasn't bad enough, Captain Shack had also overlooked another important detail when they left. He had sent several members of his galley crew to get some supplies while in port so that he could make special dinner for the Admiral during the journey to France. Trouble was, he was in such a hurry to get moving, he had failed to realize they had not yet returned to the ship. He had sailed without them. A half hour out of port he realized his mistake and was forced to turn around and go back for them.

Once the crewmen were back aboard they once again got underway. Captain Shack then decided that they should test fire their torpedoes to demonstrate to the admiral they would be able to defend themselves if the need should arise.

Unfortunately during the test fighting a live torpedo was accidentally launched in place of one of the dummy torpedoes. A local fishing ship was in the area and had to be alerted to make evasive maneuvers to avoid the danger. The fishing ship was easily able to avoid the torpedo, its draft was too shallow for it to be hit anyway, but suffice to say, Captain Shack's attempt to impress the Admiral had fallen short.

From there, Captain Shack's only aim was to try to keep the Reeves afloat long enough to get his VIP passengers to their destination in one piece. The admiral understandable stayed on the bridge to ensure no more shenanigans would take place.

Meanwhile Marcus and Brock were sitting in one of the anti-aircraft stations near the stern of the ship talking to one of the crew members of the Reeves, a man going only by the name Smitty. He was a salty old sailor and seemed to reflect the spirit of his ship, rough around the edges, but experienced. He had been in the navy for a long time and seemed in tune with the ocean.

Smitty had a very low opinion of the captain and obviously didn't like being under his command. He sighted several incidents where he had made the wrong call while on the open water. There had been several times the ship may have met disaster if not for the insights of his executive officer. This made Marcus feel even more uneasy about the issues they'd had earlier in the day. He had hoped it was just having the admiral around causing the Captain to made so many mistakes.

Marcus took a long drink the Coke he had been given from the galley and put it back down. It was good, it made him feel a little better. The wind changed direction unexpectedly and the half full coke bottle was blown over. The bottle rolled down the deck and over the side of the ship.

"Shit." Marcus leaned over the side and watched as the bottle slowly sank below the waves. He notched the water had grown noticeable more choppy. Mere moments ago the waters had been relatively calm with the usual levels of bobbing up an down that he had grown accustomed to while at sea.

"Aw, well that's too bad." Smitty seemed somewhat amused by Marcus' bad luck with his soda. "But that's the sea for ya. She is a treacherous mistress. She'll encourage you one minute, then knock you on yer butt the next. Wise men respect her. I've been a sailor my whole life, seen many rare sights. Some good, some bad."

"What kind of things have you seen?" Marcus asked, accepting the loss of his coke.

"Oh plenty. Lets me see now." Smitty began. "I've seen seventy foot rouge waves come out of nowhere and capsize ships. Witnessed swimmers pulled away by a merciless riptide. I've seen the maelstroms of Norway suck down unsuspecting fishermen who go too close. Square cross-waves off the coast of California. The tides Monte St. Michel, which turn the fortress into a solitary island in a matter of minutes. Waterspouts in Florida come out of the water and rip up houses from their foundations. Red tides in India. Had a buddy disappear in the Bermuda triangle never to be heard of again. I've seen sharks twenty feet long burst out of the water to catch seals, but one of the worst things I ever saw was a Tsunami. Imagine if you will a wave ninety feet high hitting a beach at a hundred and fifty miles per hour, pulverizing everything in its path. It took hundreds of people with it. I was lucky enough to be perched on the rocks of a cliff overlooking the beach at the time with my sweetheart, otherwise I wouldn't have lived to tell the tail. It killed the mood."

"A thing like that would stay with you I'd imagine." Marcus noted. "But that's not the worst thing you've ever seen?" You said that was one of the worst things you've seen, what tops that?" Smitty looked at Marcus like he had asked something very taboo. He was quite for a second then looked around to see if any of the other crew were within earshot. When he saw no one was he went on.

"Those are just the normal things I've seen." Smitty began. "I've seen things that no one can explain. Might sound a little crooked if you catch my meaning. When I was young, I remember the old timers telling stories about mermaids, krakens, and the like and thought they were just the products of moonshine, boredom, and overactive imaginations. But I'll tell you truly, I've seem strange things with sober eyes."

"What kind of things?" Marcus was intrigued.

"Alright, I'll tell you the story." Smitty relented. "About fifteen years ago I was on watch duty on the USS Smith, a destroyer not unlike this one. This was after the Great War and tensions had long since died down. We were on our way Liverpool, England. Nothing important, just running some supplies. I think it was about half past midnight and I was alone in the crow's nest trying to fight off sleep. I had been out there for hours alone and most of the rest of the crew had long been asleep already. Well, it started out as a noise. Something I had never heard before. I've heard whale sing before, but this was nothing like that at all. It was a noise that no man or sea creature could produce. It was unearthly and it was getting louder. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up."

"Before I knew what was what, I saw a light moving under the water nearby the ship. And before you ask, it weren't no reflection from above, it was a moonless night. The landscape was pitch black aside from the visitor under the waves. Whatever it was, it passed right beneath the boat. The ship bobbed up from the wake of its passing. After passing us by it sank into the depths until the light vanished. Many are the nights where I sit by myself with a bottle of brandy and think about what it might have been. Nothing I've ever seen has made me loose more sleep than thinking about the noise it made.

"Could it have been a submarine?" Brock asked.

"It weren't no submarine, I can tell you that" Smitty replied. "I've been around them darn things since they were invented. There was something else in the water with us that night."

The Reeves pitched up with a high wave about that time, breaking up the tension. Marcus shook himself back into reality, caught up with Smitty's story. He hadn't noticed that the seas around them had grown even more unruly.

"Is the Mediterranean always this rough?" Marcus asked.

"No, Waves don't ordinarily get this big in the Mediterranean." Smitty answered before getting up to walk away. "I'd say something very nasty is brewing."

"Wait, what?" Marcus said worried. After all he'd just heard, he didn't want to know what fit into Smitty's definition of nasty. Smitty continued to walk away ignoring him.

"So... he's colorful." Brock said as Smitty retreated out of earshot. "You think he's the Mayor of crazy town or just the secretary?"

"You don't think we should take him serious?" Marcus asked.

"Don't worry about it kid, I think the old man was just trying to scare you." Brock assured him. "Grizzled old veterans like him get their kicks terrifying young squids like you. I wouldn't pay him any mind."

"I don't know." Marcus frowned. " If it was just a story, it was a damned convincing one."

Just then, there was a thunderclap above them and it instantly began pouring down rain. Marcus and Brock were forced to retreat inside the ship. They had to proceed carefully though, holding on to the rails, waves were bouncing the ship up and down higher than before.

"How'd it get so bad so fast?" Brock cursed. He slipped had Marcus grabbed him just to be safe.

If either of them were to fall overboard it wouldn't be likely that either of them could be recovered in the quickly deteriorating weather. A wave came over the side of the ship and hit the pair. While neither of them had been dry to begin with, the water soaked through Marcus' uniform instantly and was horrifically cold. It stopped both of them in their tracks for a second before they could recover and continue towards the hatch that would bring them inside. Brock laughed behind Marcus. While he had gotten soaked too, he was having more fun with the situation.

If it wasn't for the threat of drowning, Marcus too could have found some fun hanging onto the rail while the ship was pitching up and down in the water. However, he was not as fond of danger as Brock was and motioned for them to continue forward before something really bad happened. Finally, they made it to the hatch opened it. Upon stepping inside the Reeves, they found Smitty there waiting for them with a pair of towels. He was smiling a shit eating grin at them.

'Wait a minute, how'd he get those so fast?' Marcus grimaced with suspicion. 'Did he know we were about to get drenched the whole time?'

Less than hour later, the USS Reeves was caught up in a powerful storm. The thunder, lightening, and rain were beyond anything Marcus had experienced before. The ship felt like a tin can being tossed around on the waves. Marcus had been through storms before on the Enterprise, but on a big capitol ship, one hardly seems to notice waves. On a destroyer, on the other hand, every second is like the thrill ride, not knowing which direction you might get thrown next.

The initial feeling of excitement and fun Marcus had at the beginning of the storm had long since faded, washed away with the continuous crashing of waves against the hull. He realized both the ship and his life were at risk to the hunger of the angry sea.

Marcus did his beast to keep a cool head, but he was certain his fear and concern was painted all over his face. He looked over to Brock who had also lost all his bravado from earlier. It only reinforced to Marcus how serious and precarious the situation was. Even Smitty, who was keeping tabs on the pair, had a grim look on his face.

The ship jerked back and forth violently and every man aboard had to hang on to something to keep their feet under them. Marcus imagined what it would be like if the ship went down and they were actually forced to abandon ship. His mind shifted around to all the nasty things Smitty had told them about the sea. What if they couldn't get to the life boats and were left floating on the surface in shark infested waters? It occurred to Marcus that the sharks probably wouldn't even have chance to find them before the raging storm drowned them.

Just as Marcus was pondering that question, another wave thundered against the hull of the ship and some water found its way into their compartment. That was enough for him and he decided that he didn't want to be sitting in the bowels of the ship if it started to go down. He got up and began making his way to the bridge to see how bad their situation really was for himself. Neither Brock nor Smitty tried to stop him.

It was a slow going trying to keep his balance along was way as the ship shifted in the water continuously. Marcus was bracing himself with his arms outstretched against the walls of the corridor as he went. It was tiresome and his muscles ached from the effort.

Marcus arrived on the bridge just in time to see the greatest threat to the Reeves beginning to unfold. The helmsman was reporting to Captain Shack that a huge tidal wave was approaching the ship from the starboard side. There was only a few seconds to decide what do to. If the ship stayed where it was the wave would roll over their side and capsize them. If that were to happen, the odds of any of the crew surviving would drop dramatically.

Captain Shack did the worst thing possible in that situation, nothing. He frozen up and left his subordinates standing there waiting on him to act. they were losing precious time they did not have. Fortunately for them all, Admiral Nimitz was there and was not about to let anyone to die standing on formalities. He quickly took command and issued out the orders required to get the Reeves positioned so that the ship would turn with the oncoming wave.

The Reeves made the turn just in time as it got caught up in the wave. For a few seconds the destroyer was nearly at a sixty degree angle as the stern was pulled up in the wall of water. Marcus was terrified as he tried to hang on. His heart was in his throat. Gravity was trying to pull him forward as he braced himself. Through the glass of the bridge he could see the water below them. The ship was never meant to see the ocean from this angle. As the wave rolled up under the ship they started to level out again. From there, the Reeves rode along the crest of the wave for a few more tense seconds. Time slowed down as the ship rushed forward with the force of the raging ocean. Another wave poured over the stern of the ship but then rolled back overboard again.

Though Marcus didn't realize it at the time, the ship was clear of the immediate danger. It rolled forward, still being pulled along by the wake of tidal wave that was rolling on in front of them. An addition hour of being tossed around saw the Reeves through the storm and back into calmer waters and safety.

The trip from Tunis to France had been meant to take only around twelve hours, but between Captain Shack's antics and the storm, they rolled into the port in Southern France about nine hours late. The French officials sent to met them were concerned when they failed to arrived on time. They had made efforts to contact them, but the antenna on the Reeves had been knocked out in the storm, making radio communication impossible.

Upon arrival, Marcus discovered the tidal wave they had encountered in the storm was in fact caused by an unrelated phenomena. There had been an earthquake in Libya that caused the giant wave to form. It was just a crazy coincidence it happened to hit the Reeves while in the thralls of the storm.

'Just one more strange story for Smitty to tell.' Marcus thought sarcastically.

The tidal wave had continued on northward after their encounter with it and had hit parts of Southern Europe. Italy was the hardest hit, being located directly across from the point of origin in Africa. In particular, the coastal areas of Sicily were devastated. France was relatively unaffected by the wave, as it had been broken up by other land masses between them.

With their safe arrival, Marcus, Nimitz, Brock, and Williams could continue on as planned. They left the Reeves behind to begin the long process of repairs in the harbor. Meanwhile, the French officials had a bus waiting to transport them to the research facility. Marcus was more than happy to be off the Reeves and on board something a little more stable. The sea voyage had tested his metal almost as much as his encounter with Baragon.

The trip through the French countryside to the facility was blessedly more quiet and uneventful. Marcus' shattered nerves needed some time to recover. In fact, he fell asleep for an hour or so before Brock poked him in the shoulder to let them know they were drawing near to their final destination. They were still driving nearby the coast, but had gone a considerable number of miles west. They made a turn off the main road and onto a private one that would take them the small remainder of the way. The road was a little windy, rising in elevation with each twist back and forth.

The grounds the research facility was built on were nestled amongst the hills overlooking the sea, but the lovely scenery didn't stop Marcus from being nervous. This would mark the fourth occasion he'd come into close contact with a Kaiju and he would not have recommended his first three encounters to anyone. There was no reason to think this would be any different.

The first thing Marcus spotted as they drove up on the facility was the impressive structure that encased the egg. He could only see the very top of it over the treeline at first, but as they got closer, he could see more and more. As it got bigger, he could feel anxiety building up in his chest. He knew he was already past the point of no return though. It wasn't like he could jump out of the bus and hitch hike back to the States. No, he was committed to whatever would come now. He'd have to see it through to the end.

Finally the bus brought them around the final corner, which allowed them to get their first good look at the entire facility. The structure housing the egg was the first thing everyone's eyes were drawn to. It dwarfed the buildings around it. The framework was steel, surrounded by what appeared to be glass. The building looked like something that should be found at the center of a World's Fair Exposition. It looked other-earthly, like an overgrown greenhouse or conservatory, but it housed something far rarer than anything that could be found in either.

The whole group was even more impressed by the gargantuan egg, which was plain as day to see through the clear walls. It was even bigger than they had imagined. It resembled a robin's egg with its light blue base color, but was highlighted by soft yellow stripes and dotted with speckles of white throughout. It was an equal balance of unusual and magnificent and an aw-inspiring sight for certain.

As Marcus starred at it, something strange happened. All of his fear and anxiety about the mission started to melt away. There was something about the egg gave him a inexplicable feeling of being safe, but there was more to it than that. He felt good, real good. Marcus had not felt so good since before his encounter with Baragon, before he even knew that Kaiju existed. It was hard to Marcus to pinpoint exactly what the feeling was. The only thing that came close was how he felt the last time he was with Shauna, simply warm on the inside.

The bus came to a stop and a delegation of French scientists came from the facility to meet them. Admiral Nimitz shook hands with the lead scientist by the name of Dr. Jacquier and introduced everyone else. Routine pleasantries were exchanged, most of which Marcus was ignoring. His gaze drifting back to the egg. He couldn't keep his eyes off of it. There was a great deal of conversation his missed before his attention came back to it.

"How did you manage to make something this big out of glass so quickly?" He caught Williams ask the doctor, referring to the atrium housing the egg.

"Geez Williams, that's what you are finding impressive?" Brock rolled his eyes. "We have a true wonder in front of us and that's where your mind goes?"

"Well, it is impressive." Williams floundered to find a better response, obviously a little embarrassed.

"First, I think both are impressive." Dr. Jacquier laughed. "Second, it's not glass. It's a new material called plastic."

"Plastic? What the heck is that?" Brock asked.

"I'm glad you asked." Dr. Jacquier replied. "Plastic is a recently developed semi-synthetic organic polymer discovered by James clerk Maxwell that is malleable. And because of that, it can be molded into solid objects derived from petrochemicals. It has great versatility and is imperiousness to water. It is light, cheap, and easy to produce. It has limitless applications."

"Oh." Brock replied. It was clear that half of what the doctor had said had went over his head. Marcus too was a little lost, but less so that Brock. He at least got the gist.

"I'll explain it to you more as we go." Dr. Jacquier smiled, realizing he was perhaps throwing a new concept a little too quickly at a simple soldier. "But suffice to say it is a discovery that will change the world as we know it in the years to come. Necessity is the mother of invention and it was necessary to protect our guest here from the elements as quickly as possible. My feeling is The Thing is happy in its new home."

"The Thing?" Marcus asked confused. "What do you mean?

"Oh, the egg, we don't really know what is in there yet, so we have just been saying that." Dr. Jacquier explained. "Somehow feels right to me. Once we rightly figure out what is in there we can give it a more proper name. Would you gentlemen like a closer look? You've come all this way, might as well get cracking... so to speak."

A short while later, the group was climbing the stairs just outside of the atrium, which housed the egg. They had to pass through a security checkpoint to get there, but the armed guards were pretty relaxed waving the whole group through without issue.

Dr. Jacquier was talking more about the building and how it had been constructed so quickly, perhaps patting his engineers on the back a little along the way. He also explained the security measures that had been put into place. The atrium had a fail safe built in should the egg start to exhibit behavior seen as dangerous. The French government had only agreed to permit study of the egg within their territory so long as there was a way to destroy it quickly should the need arise.

The scientists had come up with a radical way to satisfy the security requirement. A relatively new technology was implemented into the very walls surrounding the egg. Dr. Jacquier described the technology as microwaves. He explained that microwaves were a form of electromagnetic radiation that caused dielectric heating primarily by absorption of the energy in water and thereby heating polarized molecules within a given object. In this case, the egg, should they turn on the surrounding emitter emplacements.

He went on to explain that molecules have a partial positive charge at one end and a partial negative charge at the other, and therefore they rotate as they would try to align themselves with the alternating electric field of the microwaves. This molecular movement would cause heat to disperse as the rotating molecules hit other molecules and put them into motion.

He summarized by saying that with the flip of just a single switch, the housing around the egg could be turned into a electromagnetic oven that would cook the egg and whatever was inside it in mere minutes. He joked that he could make enough scrambled eggs for the entire country if he wanted. Something about that statement made Marcus feel angry, but he didn't know why. He should have felt more secure knowing that they had such a well thought out defense.

"Where is this security switch?" Admiral Nimitz asked.

"It's in the observation deck." Dr. Jacquier answered. "Right next to the main control board. That way it's right at our finger tips should it become necessary."

"Are you concerned that someone might hit the switch by mistake?" Williams asked. "It could get awful dicey if someone where to trip it while we are up there."

"I wouldn't worry about any accidents like that." Dr. Jacquier assured him. "The switch is located inside a security box. It has to be unlocked with a key to be accessed. So it can't be tripped by mistake. There are only two keys. I always hold on to one of them and the security chief is in charge of the other one. Typically whichever guards are on duty below are entrusted with his key so they can quickly react in an emergency if I'm not around."

Satisfied with Dr. Jacquier's explanation, the group proceeded up the remaining steps that lead to the to observation deck. Upon entering the atrium and they got their best view of the egg yet. The only thing separating the group from the egg was a narrow panel of glass, the only glass to be found in the facility, the rest was plastic. Marcus pressed himself right up next to it, trying to get the best view possible. The egg was even more beautiful through the clear glass. The plastic exterior, which the doctor had been talking up so much was still inferior in some ways. The true colors of the egg were dulled from the outside view, but on the inside it was even more breathtaking. The feeling Marcus had felt earlier was even stronger now that he was so close to the egg, seeing its true details. He put his hand against the glass.

"Phew, it is cooking in here already doc, you're saying it would get hotter if the security system was turned on?" Brock asked.

"Considerably." Dr. Jacquier noted.

"I wouldn't want to be in here if that happened." Brock shrugged. He noted a thermometer on the wall. "Geez, it's a hundred degrees in here."

"Is it really?" Marcus asked surprised. He had not even noticed. He came over and examined the thermometer for himself. Sure enough, that's what it read. "To me it feels more like seventy-two." Just then he noticed that Brock was beginning to sweat and he was not. Marcus looked around and saw that almost everyone in the room was sweating. He still didn't even think it felt warm and got a little weirded out. He also noticed Dr. Jacquier staring at him strangely.

"Perhaps it's time to head back outside." Dr. Jacquier announced to the group. "It's pretty hot in here after all."

As the group made their way back down the stairs, Marcus noted an entrance to actual egg chamber. He saw one of the French scientists go through. It appeared to be restricted access though. There was a warning sign hanging outside the door. He couldn't read it, but the intent was still pretty clear for non-French speakers by the picture on it.

Dr. Jacquier talked for just another minute before wrapping up his welcome tour. The last thing he did was point out the housing unit were the new American arrivals were to stay for the duration of their stay. As they has arrived late in the day, there was not enough time to do much else before dark. There was just enough time have dinner and then settle in for the evening. Their work would have to begin tomorrow.

As the groups broke up Marcus again caught Dr. Jacquier watching him. Marcus mostly had a good first impression of the Doctor, but his staring was starting to make him uneasy.

After dinner, Marcus and Brock headed to their bunk for the night. Almost everyone else was well ready for a good night's sleep. Marcus aside, the rest of his group were still worn out by their misadventure at sea. He had been the only one to have slept on the drive over to the facility.

While everyone else slumbered, Marcus starred up at the ceiling thinking. His mind was racing and kept coming back to the same thought: he needed to get an even closer look at the egg. He tried to push the thought out of his mind, but as the night pressed on, he became more and more fixated on it. He tossed and turned and wasn't able to rest.

At about eleven-thirty Marcus finally couldn't stand it anymore. He grabbed his shoes and crept out of the room. Brock was out like a light, so that much was easy. Once outside of his room, Marcus slipped his shoes on and continued onward carefully. The rest of the building was just as dead to the world. Sneaking out of the bunk house unnoticed was even easier than getting out of his room. The hallways were deserted.

Marcus slipped out the door and into the cool night air. He looked around and found the facility grounds dark, quite, empty. Sneaking around proved to be stupidly simple. The only trouble Marcus came across was the guards at the entrance to the egg facility, but even there, he was in luck. One of the guards was just getting up from his station to walk the perimeter of the atrium and the other one had fallen asleep at his post.

Marcus waited patiently, knowing exactly what he needed to do. Once the first guard had circled around the corner of the atrium he would make a break for it. He waited just a few seconds longer and then sprinted across the grass until he got close to the entrance. He slowed once he came upon the other guard sleeping. Marcus tiptoed around him, as not to alert him. He crept past without difficulty and finally entered the door to the egg chamber.

Once inside, Marcus found the lights were on. The room was empty as best as he could tell. It was difficult to be sure. It was possible that someone was on the other side of the atrium being blocked by the egg. Kind of the same way the egg was blocking him so the guard on the outside couldn't see him. It didn't bother Marcus much, he doubted anyone would be in there that time of night. As he looked around, he noticed something odd. There were air raid sirens posted in three corners of the atrium and he assumed there must have been an additional one located in the corner he could not see.

'What the heck are they planning to do with these?' Marcus thought to himself.

There was no time to dwell on it though. His time was very limited. The atrium might be huge, but at best, he only had a minute or two before the other guard would circle back around. He'd be able to see Marcus through the clear plastic once he got close enough. Marcus could circle around the egg himself to avoid detection, but if the guard remained at his post for the rest of the night, Marcus would be trapped and eventually discovered. There was only one way in or out. Best to avoid that scenario.

Marcus wasted no more time, he briskly walked forward until he was right next to the egg. He should have been thinking the egg could crush him if it were to be disturbed, but that was far from his mind. He only had one thought at that point: He had to touch it with his bare hand to see how it felt. It was an impulse he simply couldn't ignore. An irresistible urge was driving him on.

Marcus' hand inched closer and closer until finally there was direct contact. The eggshell was warm, exceptionally warm, against his skin. He somehow had not expected that. As he stood there just soaking it in, he started to feel something. There was a flash in his mind and he felt the warmth against his hand begin to flow into the rest of his body. He stood there for what felt like ages while it filled him up. He stopped seeing the egg in front of him and started seeing other things, so many things, things he didn't understand. Time felt like it stopped and he could hear music, unlike anything he had heard before.

Marcus eventually came back to his senses and had spots of light in his vision once again. They were brighter than the last time he had saw them. He was suddenly very worried, it had been awhile since his last episode and he had hoped that they were permanently gone. Clearly they were not. As he stood there, he realized he had no idea how long he had been there. He might be in danger of being caught.

Marcus realized that it was time to go. He looked out through the side of the atrium and could see that the other guard had not returned yet. He couldn't risk staying inside any longer. He darted to the exit, opening the door carefully. He peaked around the corner to see if the patrolling guard was coming. There was no sign of him and and the other guard was still fast asleep.

It was now or never, Marcus carefully exited he atrium and walked quietly away until he was a good twenty yards away from the sleeping guard. Once he felt a safe distance away, he broke into a full on sprint until he was back into the safety of the shadows, far away from the atrium. Marcus looked back and saw the other guard just coming around the corner. If he had waited just a few more seconds he would have been spotted.

Amongst the shadows, Marcus quietly caught his breath and steadied his nerves. He quickly thought to himself what he would say if anyone back at the bunkhouse happened to be awake when her arrived and pressed him about where he had been. Marcus found it strange that it was only now that he was considering this. Why hadn't he thought about this before? He could find no reasonable answer to that question.

He was far more successful with coming up with an excuse for being outside though. It just so happened that the bunkhouse lacked indoor plumbing, as it had been erected somewhat recently and in a hurry. For that reason, an outhouse had been placed nearby. Marcus could simple say he had the urge to go during the night. Not so far from the truth, he'd barely be lying if he said that.

Feeling confident with an excuse in mind, Marcus began to walk back in the dark. He pasted a couple buildings and then came around a corner, which would lead him back to the bunkhouse. As he did, someone struck a match. Marcus stopped in his tracks, taken by surprise. The unknown figure brought the match up to their face and revealed themselves to be none other than Dr. Jacquier. He was carefully lighting a cigarette.

"Nice night for a walk, Marcus... is it?" He asked. Marcus felt like a child who had been caught sneaking down to the kitchen in the middle of the night to steal a cookie from the cookie jar. By Jacquier's demeanor, it was unclear if he had witnessed Marcus go into the facility or not. He seemed relaxed and aloof.

"It sure is." Marcus replied, not knowing what else to say. He felt cold sweat forming on the back of his neck.

"A little fresh air does the body and spirit good." Dr. Jacquier went on, though the statement was a little ironic considering he took in a long drag from his cigarette right after. "Well, you should rest up, we'll be starting bright and early tomorrow."

"Yeah, sure thing doctor." Marcus agreed.

With that, Dr. Jacquier simply walked away and Marcus could hardly believe it. Had he really not seen what he had just done? He was certain he was about to be busted. Could the doctor really have been out there just for a midnight smoke? Something told Marcus that was not the case, but despite that, he somehow felt ok about it.

The next morning, Marcus told Brock what he had done while sitting down to breakfast. All things considered Brock took it pretty well.

"Are you mad?" Brock choked on his wheat bran. "Do you know what they would have done to you if to had been caught? At the very least you'd be in the brig, probably awaiting a court martial, and the rest of us would be be at the heart of an embarrassing international incident. What were you thinking?"

"It's hard to explain, but I felt compelled to do it." Marcus began.

"You felt compelled to do it?" Brock grumbled, clearly not impressed with Marcus' explanation. "What the hell kind of answer is that? Where's your self control? I'll tell you what, I feel compelled to put my boot in your ass. Do you think it would be wise for me to act on that urge?" The vein in Brock's neck was starting to pop out.

"I know it sounds crazy and you're getting agitated Brock, but hear me out for a second." Marcus tried to calm him down. "Between the storm and our encounter with Baragon I've been a nervous wreck lately. You know that I've had issues dealing with it. But here's the crazy thing: From the moment we arrived here I have started felt different, somehow better and when I touched the egg I got a jolt of something. I don't understand it yet, but I'm starting to feel like me again for the first time in a long time. I know it's selfish, but for me it was worth the risk of being caught." Brock just stared at Marcus curiously, not sure what to say. He looked like he was thinking something over himself.

"I've felt a little different since we got here too." Brock admitted. "I'm not sure I like it though."

"Gentlemen, better finish up quickly." Dr. Jacquier came up surprising them. "It's nearly time to get the experiment underway! I wouldn't want you to miss it."

Ten minutes later, everyone was gathered on the stairs on the way to the observation deck. They had elected to start earlier in the morning so the atrium was as cool as possible. As the day pressed on, it would only get hotter and hotter inside as it soaked up more of the sun's rays. Dr. Jacquier was already chatting everyone up.

"It's funny, we've only begun to study the egg, and by its mere presence here, we've been forced to jump into two new areas of technological advances." Dr. Jacquier noted. "Who knows what will happen once we start to understand its secrets." He lead the group back into the observation deck within the atrium and began to bring them up with speed about the experiments that had already been preformed and what they had learned from them. The short answer could be summarized as very little, save for one important discovery.

The French scientists had conducted countless tests on the shell, taking very small scrapings in an effort to determine what was inside. The results were inconclusive. They compared the samples under a microscope to various types of bird, reptile, amphibian, insect, and fish eggs. They came up empty. Nothing was a match or even a close match. They even tried to screen it against the few types of mammals that lay eggs. nothing came of it.

The egg was wholly unique. One of the things that really set it apart was a new mineral found within it. The scientists concluded it was something that couldn't be found on the periodic table of the time. Whatever it was, it was strong. In fact, if the whole eggshell had been made up of the element, they never would have been able to scrape off a sample. This, as much as anything, stirred the French government's interest in continuing their research. The mineral could prove invaluable once they discovered an application for it. That alone could justify their decision to study the egg rather than destroy it.

After their first exciting discovery, the scientists tested the egg in a series of other experiments. The first was to see if it was giving off any radiation, magnetic fields, or conductivity. Each test failed to yield any noteworthy information. A litany of other experiments followed, each failing to produce anything of value.

Dr. Jacquier went into detail of each test extensively, but Marcus stopped paying attention when it became clear that he wasn't going to say anything else useful or interesting. Marcus' eyes and attention shifted to the egg instead. It was just sitting in the atrium waiting for him. He starred at it for a long time before he drifted back towards the conversation going on around him.

"What we are going to do today is a sound test." Dr. Jacquier announced as Marcus' attention shifted back to him. "You will observe the air raid sirens recently installed inside the atrium." He pointed them out. "We have converted them to act as speakers to amplify a selection of music that has been prepared in advance."

"What is the point of this test?" Admiral Nimitz asked.

"I'm glad you asked." Dr. Jacquier replied. "All of this probably seems strange right? Why would we men of science, being sound of mind, go as far as to hold a private opera for an overgrown chicken egg you might be asking yourself? Well, the answer is slightly more complex than my love for classical music." He jested, getting a mixed response from the crowd.

"Anyhow." The he went on. "The fact of the matter is there are factions within my government that feel that we should not be expending any more of our country's resources on this project until we can at the very least confirm that their is life dwelling within the egg." Dr. Jacquier explained "So far, our guest has been quite bashful about making its presence know. There have been precious few clues about what lurks inside, if anything at all. It could be a dud, but we certainly can't do the old farmer's trick of putting the egg in a glass of water to see if it will float. So, we must find another way to confirm we are dealing with a living organism or not."

"As luck would have it, a potential solution to our problem may have landed in our laps." Dr. Jacquier continued. "A few days ago Dr. Dellacqua was in the atrium compiling his experimental notes and happened to be listening to his new record player to help pass the time. As he was writing, something remarkable happened. He thought he noted movement within the egg. Unfortunately no one else was around to see or hear it and there was no recording equipment on hand at the time to catch it either. While Dr. Dellacqua's word is enough for me, it's sadly not good enough for those dissenters in the government who would like to see this project shut down. They demand something a little more concrete."

"Thus, our goal today is to correct that oversight and provide them with some hard evidence. To accomplish that goal we plan to provoke a response and reproduce the movement, but this time with recording equipment in place to prove our claim. To that end, we have placed sensitive seismic equipment near the base of the egg. It will detect the slightest vibrations, thus, if there is any reaction today we will be able to record it." Some of the members of the team looked impressed, while other like Brock thought the doctor had drank too much wine.

"Why would it respond to music?" Someone near the front asked.

"Maybe it just doesn't like French music and it was the only way it could protest." Brock mused. Marcus snickered. The pair were far enough away from the rest of the group didn't hear them. Neither of them heard the doctor's actual answer to the question.

The group settled down and Dr. Jacquier turned to a control panel on a table overlooking the atrium to begin the experiment. He flipped a switch and music became to softly creep out of the speakers. There was a small speaker in the observation deck so they could all hear it too. Marcus noted that the music wasn't anything special. It was simple, light, and easy on the ears. It was just the sort of thing a rich snob would play in the background of stuffy high class party. It was boring and bland, but not offensive.

The music went on at some length, the sound filling up the atrium while the observers above watched the egg, waiting to see if their was any response. The flat lined readout on the seismograph indicated that there was none. It would only occasionally bob with the more bombastic parts of the music, but nothing beyond that. If nothing else, it at least showed how sensitive the seismograph was. If it could detected the music, it could certainly detect any moment from the egg.

The first song on the record came and went uneventfully, then the second song began. From the moment it started, Marcus noticed several odd things about it. For starters, the second piece of music was not by the same composer as the first. The second piece was from a well known composer while the first piece was not. That meant that the record they were listening to had been spliced together and not just a record they had pulled from one of the scientist's personal collections. Something about that made Marcus feel uneasy. If their goal was to produce similar results as before, wouldn't it stand to reason to use the same music Dr. Dellacqua has been listening to?

Marcus looked over to Dr. Jacquier to see how he was reacting to the musical selection. He too looked a little troubled at that point, or at least a little distracted. It was hard to tell which. Could it be that this was not the record he had chosen? If it wasn't, it didn't stop him from proceeding forward with the test. Dr. Jacquier allowed the music to continue to play unabated.

It was at that point Marcus noticed the second thing that bothered him. The main melody of the song had started out exactly as Marcus remembered it, but before long, some rogue notes crept into it that didn't belong. As he listened more, he realized they were not just random notes thrown in, but instead belonged to a second song that was beginning to play subtlety under the main score. It was very strange.

Marcus again looked around to read the room. This time, he seemed to be the only person reacting to it. If anyone else was hearing the underscore, there were no signs of it on any of their faces. Everyone appeared to be completely oblivious to it. Even Dr. Jacquier no longer looked concerned like he had before. As Marcus stood there befuddled, he realized he recognized the song. He remembered hearing it while he was touching the egg the night before. He might have even been hearing it on a subconscious level even before that. What was it and why was he hearing it? Did anyone else notice it?

"Do you hear that?" He asked Brock.

"Hear what, the music?" Brock asked back. "Of course I hear it, I'm not deaf."

"No, I mean the underscore." Marcus clarified. Brock only looked at him confused.

"Don't know what you are talking about." Brock shook his head. "All I hear is some dusty old classic."

Williams had overheard the conversation and shook his head no as well when Marcus looked to him. Marcus started to wonder if he was the only one hearing it. Could it all just be in his head? He was starting to feel anxious. Almost on cue, the bright spots that had been plaguing Marcus since hitting his head, began to creep back into his vision. It made him feel even less confident about what he was hearing and was afraid to say anything else, so he kept quiet.

"Movement!" One of the scientists monitoring the seismograph announced to the group, pulling Marcus away from his inner thoughts. Everyone in the observation deck crowded around the paper readout. There were clear pulses of movement scratched into the paper. As they watched, it became obvious that the pulses were not just artifact caused by the music playing.

There was a sense of joy amongst the French scientists. While they had only accomplished a modest goal, it was one of the first clear successes the had managed to achieve. They had proven that there was indeed life residing within the egg. Any funding problem they might have had going forward could be put to rest.

Marcus could see the pulses were regular and in unison with the melody of the underlying song no one else was hearing. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He got the sense that something was about to happen. The other men around him were carrying on, unaware of whatever subtle warning Marcus was picking up on. The readings on the seismograph were steadily getting stronger, but so very gradually at first that no one noticed them.

It went on like that for a few moments, very slowly building, until there was a sudden shutter strong enough that all the men in the observation deck stopped and took notice. The seismograph spiked with the tremor and then steadied again.

"Maybe you should shut the music off now doctor." Admiral Nimitz suggested. The enthusiasm in the room had quickly died down.

"Yes, I think we have what we need already." Dr. Jacquier agreed and flipped the switch off. The music died away, but the pulses of movement from he egg did not. If anything, they only grew stronger. The scientists looked worried, starting to feel the physical movement of the regular pulses. Marcus noted one of them starting to sweat, even though the temperature in the room was still only in the seventies.

A second intense tremor shook the observation room and at that point everyone inside recognized they were in trouble. Several of the scientists bolted for the door to the stairwell. Dr. Jacquier, Admiral Nimitz, Williams, Brock, Marcus and a few of the other braver scientists remained. At about that time, they actually witnessed the egg physically move within the atrium. That was the moment Admiral Nimitz realized they had gone beyond the point of no return.

"Dr. Jacquier, you need to activate the fail safe." The Admiral recommend.

Dr. Jacquier nodded in agreement and fumbled around in his pocket for the key to the security box housing the microwave switch. After several tense seconds, he finally was able to locate the key and used it to unlock the box.

"The rest of you need to get out of here, once I pull the switch the system will begin to activate." Dr. Jacquier warned. "There is only a slight delay built into the generators before they start running. The generators give the person starting the system twenty seconds to get clear of the atrium before they start cooking everything inside along with he egg."

With that, the doctor finished opening the box and discovered that the wires connecting the switch to the rest of the system had been cut. It was no accident. Someone had intentionally sabotaged the security system. The egg shifted off of its axis and rolled into the side of the atrium, knocking everyone still in the observation deck off their feet and destabilizing the structure. Everyone looked up to see that the eggshell had cracked and whatever was inside was starting to push its way out.

"Shit here we go again." Brock cursed, recognizing they needed to move quickly. "Come on everyone, we have to get out of here now! He prioritized helping Admiral Nimitz to his feet and ushering him towards the stairs to escape. Dr. Jacquier was right behind them, abandoning the security system.

Marcus meanwhile had not moved a muscle to escape. He had become fixated on the egg, watching it as it hatched. The creature was still struggling, trying to burst forth from its shell. Its body collided with the ceiling and the already damaged atrium became even more unstable.

"Marcus, what are you doing?" Brock shouted at him "You need to get out of there!" Marcus wasn't hearing him though. His back was to Brock, so he didn't see him either. One of the support beams above gave way and came crashing down just feet away from where Marcus stood. He wasn't even aware of it.

Begrudgingly, Brock knew he had to leave Marcus behind. There was too much debris falling between them and his first duty was to ensure that the Admiral made it out alive. He couldn't afford to wait any longer to do it. The creature was quickly collapsing the atrium as it hatched. Brock escaped down the stairwell with the VIPs in toe.

The fresh hatchling was still trying to free itself from the confines of its shell while was Marcus standing like a statue watching it. Little by little, what was left of the atrium was smashed and fell apart as the creature bumped into it. There simply wasn't enough space for it to move around without tearing the facility apart.

After most of the atrium was already demolished, the creature had successful freed itself and looked around to explore its new surroundings. It vaguely resembled a brown caterpillar with small blue eyes. It had a pair of small antenna on both sides of its mandibles, which twitched as it moved its bulbous head around. Its round body was segmented into seventeen individual sections.

It spotted Marcus standing on the platform, one of the few places where the original structure had remained intact. In a curious sort of way, its head drew in close to Marcus. The monster came within just yards of the glass that separated them. It looked at Marcus for a moment with its small blue eyes before its mouth opened and squeaking at him. Luckily for Marcus the glass was thick and still intact, otherwise the decibel level would have deafened him at that range. Even so, he still was forced to cover his ears from the enormous level of sound bleeding through the glass. The monster's call was extremely high pitched and shrill.

The sound died down and the monster just sat there looking at him. Marcus was not a highly religious man, but in the presence of this creature, he felt an overwhelming sensation running through his body, a power akin to that of a God. A tear ran down his face. It was the closest thing he had ever had to a religious experience.

Marcus knew this being was immensely powerful, but he also knew he not in danger. There was no notion of it harming him. The creature drew back slowly, and carefully turning its segmented body to move out of the wrecked atrium. As it crawled through the rest of the facility, it left all the remaining buildings untouched. In fact, through the whole incident, not a single person had been killed or injured. Remarkable considering the track record for every other encounter with a Kaiju thus far.

Marcus only watched as the creature gradually disappeared into the French countryside. As he stood there fixated, a hatch opened up behind him in the wall and Dr. Jacquier crawled out of it. Marcus turned to face him and saw a metal latter inside the crawl space.

"Well I'll be, you are still alive." Dr. Jacquier smiled. "That is certainly curious. I don't think its luck either. I have a hunch about it."

"Oh?" And what is that?" Marcus asked.

"I know you know someone sabotaged the fail safe. Any ideas who might have done that?" Dr. Jacquier inquired. Marcus figured he knew where the doctor was going with his question and prepared himself for what he knew would come next.

"Why don't you tell me what your theory is doctor." Marcus invited.

"Oh, it's quite simple really." Dr. Jacquier began. He reached deep into the pocket of his lab coat and began to pull something out. Marcus was expecting it to be a weapon, but was shocked when he realized what it actually was. The doctor had instead pulled out a pair of wire cutters. "I did it." He smiled at Marcus, who could only stare back at him confused.

"You did it...?" Marcus finally asked.

"You must be wondering why I did it." Dr. Jacquier put the clippers safely back in his pocket. "And also, why I would I tell you about it? I mean, after all, you could turn me in, right?" He mused. "Well I know for a fact that you won't." He said confidently. "How could I know that?" He posed the question. "Well it's actually really simple, I know you hear the music too." His eyes narrowed more seriously on Marcus. "It called to you like it called to me." The statement hit Marcus like a ton of bricks. At once, he realized that maybe he wasn't crazy after all, though maybe the doctor still was. "We both know destroying the egg would have been a mistake. The world is a far better place with the creature in it."

"Mothra." Marcus corrected him, speaking almost out of instinct.

"What?" Dr. Jacquier asked, caught slightly off guard.

"Her name is Mothra." Marcus answered. "Somehow I know that."

"Ah, I see I was right about you." Dr. Jacquier smiled even bigger. "She doesn't speak to everyone for some reason, but she can whisper to us when she wants to. That's how I knew the music would work. I could hear it in my head. I knew if I could just get it recorded and then play it she would hatch. The others couldn't know about it, they would have tired to stop me. But it's too late for that now. She's awake."

Marcus sat there processing the situation, trying to decide if he was in good company or not. A lot of the things the doctor was saying made sense to him, but he was still a little unease about him. The doctor seemed a little unhinged. Marcus wondered if working in such close proximity to the egg for so long had an adverse effect on him. And if that proved to be the case, would it start effect him in a similar way over time?"

"What happens now?" Marcus asked, trying to push those thoughts from his mind.

"Well, first and foremost, we have to get down from here, I just wanted to talk to you alone first. Make sure you were right in the head." Dr. Jacquier laughed. "Lets rejoin the others now, shall we?"

Not having much other choice, Marcus agreed. He let the doctor go down the latter first and followed behind him. He did not want the doctor above him while they were making their decent. Upon emerging from the secret entrance the doctor had used to reach him, they found the rest of their party was waiting for them. Brock was the first to spot them and made a B-line towards Marcus.

"What were you doing up there?" Brock began. "You can't afford to freeze up like that."

"I didn't" Marcus replied, confused. Brock had mistaken Marcus' fixation for fear and still didn't recognize it for what it was. He thought Marcus was still in shock.

"If you loose it like that out a battlefield you will die, your buddy next to you will die. Your whole unit will die." Brock pressed his point home. "Do you understand?"

"Brock, I'm telling you I was in total control the whole time up there." Marcus assured him. Brock looked into Marcus' eyes and suddenly wasn't sure of himself anymore.

"Maybe it would be best if we sent sent you back to the ship for the time being." Brock grunted.

"Actually I would very much like it if Marcus remained amongst us." Dr. Jacquier cut in. "I feel like he could be very useful indeed."

"How?" Brock asked.

"Well for starters, he has come up with a very fitting name for our little beastie." Dr. Jacquier answered. Brock waited for Dr. Jacquier to say he was joking, but he never did.

"I think you are both cracked." Brock surrendered.

In the Northern Pacific, the situation was tenuous. Japanese and Russian ships were still being hit regularly by the Rodans and the two governments still harbored a lot of enmity between them, so they refused to coordinate their efforts. The Japanese government thought if they just routed their merchant ships into the outer shipping lanes they might be ok, they were wrong. Five had been hit in the space of a week.

After that happened, the American government finally chose to share with the Japanese Marcus' theory about the Rodans finding at least some of their targets by following radio signals. Japanese shipping in the area was suspended entirely by that time, so they needed another way of knowing if that was the case. The theory had to be tested.

Wheels started turning in the Japanese government and a special mission was set in motion. Given the state of moral in the Imperial Navy following their devastating defeat, they decided it would be wiser to ask for volunteers for the potentially dangerous mission rather than just assigning someone to it.

They sent out a call for pilots and Akira was the first to put forth his name. Given his prior experience with the Rodans, he was an obvious choice and was readily accepted to lead the mission. Despite the issues with moral, other brave airmen quickly followed Akira's example and a crew was quickly coming together.

The mission was pretty straight forward. It was easy enough for Japanese engineers to put together a device that would transmit a strong radio signal to act as a lure. The device would be placed inside the durable casing of a water proof buoy and loaded into a long range bomber. The bomber would fly the buoy out to a Japanese outpost located on an island in the Northern Pacific and drop the device into the nearby ocean.

The outpost had an observation bunker and an airstrip. The long range bomber would easily be able to make it to the base, drop the device within visual range, land to refuel, and then return home. While they were returning, the radio buoy could be activated from remote and the men on the island could observe to see if the Rodans came to investigate it. The island was far enough away from the Rodan's new home that the Japanese could be reasonably certain that if they did appear on location it would be due to the presence of the device and not because of some other coincidence.

After having flown for hours, Akira and his crew had nearly arrived at the island. It had taken Akira a while to get used to the controls of a bomber, the aircraft was incredible sluggish and slow compared the fighters he was used to flying. For obvious reasons, radio silence was being strictly enforced during the mission.

As they approached the island, they could see a marker left in the water by the island's garrison. That was their beacon, where the radio buoy was to be dropped. Akira gave the necessary orders to his men and the bomb bay doors opened. Meanwhile, he corrected course to line the plane up with the target area. He slowed the aircraft to a crawl as they got over the marker. A lever was pulled and the buoy was away, falling towards the water. It splashed down and Akira only hoped it would stay afloat. It would be a long trip to make a second time if something were to go wrong. Thankfully the buoy bobbed right back up to the surface.

Satisfied with that, Akira turned the plane and made a pass over the island. The island was a tiny spec of land and he could see why its only strategic value was as an observation post. Prior to the Rodans making their existence known, the base was being used to keep an eye out for the Russian's Pacific Fleet.

Akira spotted the makeshift airstrip that had been cut out of the jungle and came in for a landing. Once the plane came to a stop, ground crews came running out to begin the refueling process. Akira assured them their was no reason to rush. Akira was quickly growing into a cautious man and had decided he did not want his plane in the air anywhere near the island while the buoy was transmitting.

Instead, he asked the ground crews hide the bomber under the canopy of trees. Meanwhile, his crew would enter the bunker and observe the buoy from there while the test was being conducted. The garrison commander gave Akira a funny look when he realized he was deviating from their orders, however, he didn't argue. They might be in different branches of service, but the garrison commander was still clearly outranked by Akira and it would not be his career that suffered if the higher ups took offense to Akira altering their plans.

With everything in place, they activated the radio buoy and hunkered down to wait. Hours passed with nothing to do but play cards and talk. Akira quickly learned the men of the garrison weren't very excited about their assignment. It was boring enough on the island to begin with, but the Russian fleet they were meant to be monitoring had pulled out when the Rodans moved in. So there wasn't much of a reason for them to be there anymore.

The soldiers on the island would much rather have been with the main army during the invasion of China. Having known soldiers who were part of the fighting on the mainland, Akira was certain they would feel differently after witnessing a month of the carnage that was the Sino-Japanese War. It was brutal affair, not glorious or honorable as the propaganda films would have them believe. Akira was glad he only ever saw that war from the sky.

The day dragged on without any activity, but just when everyone was about ready to call the mission a wash a noise became audible within the bunker. Akira sprang up, instantly recognizing it as the whistle the Rodans made when they were fast in flight. Everyone within the bunker ran to the small opening to see out, and sure enough, one of the Rodans was splashing down into the shallow waters near the buoy. The monster seemed confused, having found no target to attack. The buoy at its feet was so small that it escaped its notice. Watching the monster look around confused was all the convincing Akira needed. The test had been a success. He deactivated the radio buoy assuming the monster would leave, having no signal to keep its attention anymore. Except it didn't leave.

The Rodan remained in the water idle for a moment. Then the monster looked at the island and decided to investigate it. It only took the Rodan a few flaps of its wings to bring it to the island. The inexperienced soldiers in the bunker just about shit themselves as it passed over them. They lost track of Rodan as it flew over the bunker, but it must have landed somewhere nearby. The interior of their hiding place seemed to bend under the pressure. Bits of dirt and sand fell from the ceiling. Luckily for them, Rodan missed landing directly on them, but they could hear the monster moving around. Each of its steps brought more dirt down on them and they listened and waited.

Finally, they heard Rodan let out an enormous cackling roar and it took flight. It had lost interest in the seemingly empty island. Just to be safe Akira insisted that they wait a few minutes down in the bunker before venturing out. When he was satisfied it was clear, they crept out of their hiding place. Some of the palm trees in the area had been knocked down, but otherwise there was no serious damage to the base itself. The bomber had also not been discovered. They would be able to return home with a small victory.

In a vineyard in Southern France, a day's work was just coming to an end.

The vineyard was being overseen by Andre, the oldest son in a long line of viticulturists. His parents were away for the day and he was left in charge. There wasn't much to it really, he just had to keep an eye on the workers to ensure the didn't drive away with a truckload of grapes. Given the good working relationship between his parents and their farm hands, it was not likely to be an issue.

Andre was perhaps a little too pampered by his parents due to their recent success. He didn't like to get his own hands dirty and preferred to supervise the labor. His mother had a bad habit of overindulging his whims. As a result, he spent less and less time in the fields as he got older. He had come to see performing manual labor below his station in life. The work was going well despite this.

The grapes had just become ripe and it had been a perfect morning. They had gotten a lot of work done, the field in the first section had nearly been picked clean and the resulting spoils were being loaded into the storehouse for safe keeping. The rest of the harvest could wait until tomorrow. Andre hoped his parents would be pleased that he had managed to wrap up the whole first section of job in their absence.

Once his father was back they could begin to process the grapes while the field workers continued to gather the rest of the crop. Andre was looking forward to taking the first steps towards turning the grapes into fine wine. He was still young, but had already developed a distinguished palate for wines. His family produced one of the best.

Andre stood on the porch of the manor house and looked out over the green fields. Someday it would all be his. His family had grown rich over the years. Wineries were a very lucrative business and he was eager to get his own taste of fortune.

As Andre continued to marvel at his family's legacy, he became aware of a noise. It was so faint that he wasn't even certain he was really hearing it. He dismissed it as his imagination until he heard it a second time. Nearby he saw one of the field hands just starting to unload the first few barrels of grapes from the work truck.

"Michael, come over here." He called to the worker.

"Yeah, what can I do for you boss?" Michael asked as he got close.

"Shhh... did you hear that just now?" Andre tried to quiet him down, waving his had. The noise come back at the exact moment Michael had started to speak and it was gone again just as fast.

"Uh... no." Michael replied. "Hear what?"

"Well it's gone now, but wait here a minute and listen with me." Andre said frustrated. The two men just sat there second by second waiting. Finally Andre hear it again.

"There, do you hear that?" Andre asked. "It was louder this time."

"No boss." Michael replied. Andre frowned at him. Michael was a man in his late fifties and his hearing was starting to fade. It probably didn't help that the noise was of a higher tone. Higher frequencies typically are the first ones that go with age. Andre on the other hand was only nineteen, so his hearing was still perfect. The noise came again. This time it was loud enough for even Michael to notice it.

"I think I heard it that time boss, what is it?" He asked.

"I haven't got the slightly idea." Andre admitted. "I've never heard anything like that before, but it's getting louder. We aren't having any trouble with the processing machines again are we?"

"Not that I'm aware of." Michael answered. "They were checked yesterday and where running right then."

"It's so odd, where is it coming from?" Andre grimaced. "It's like a squeaking sound right?"

"Yeah, that's about right." Michael agreed. "Don't sound like machinery though." They stood there listening until they heard it again, this time it sounded significantly louder than before.

"What the hell is that?" Andre asked, starting to get a little worried. It was about that time he realized something was very wrong. He also started to feel a vibration under his feet.

"Is it an earthquake?" Michael asked.

"I don't know, but just to be on the safe side I think you'd better tell the rest of the workers to get out of the storehouse." Andre warned. "That building is old and I doubt it will hold up well under strain."

With that, Michael ran down as quickly as he could. The other field workers were already starting to come out of the storehouse to investigate the noise and rumbling. Andre could hear Michael shouting to them and the group of workers rapidly poured out of the building. Panic was starting to spread as the squeaking noise had grown into a roar that was echoing throughout the valley of the vineyard.

Andre saw some of the workers pointing to the hill the overlooked the valley. He turned to have a look for himself and saw a dark mass cresting the hill. It just looked like a lump moving behind the hill at first. Then it started to grow as more of it became visible moving over the hill.

Andre was at a loss for words. It appear to be some type of gigantic brown worm. It was knocking over trees as it made its way down the hill and into the valley. It crawled along remarkably quick for a worm and soon found its way to the edge of the vineyard.

Once there, it began to devour the field one line at a time. Andre watched as vines were ravaged. The creature was meticulously picking the rows apart. Its voracious appetite seemed boundless. Vines were disappearing at an alarming rate, the grapes, leaves, and even the stems. Nothing was left after it was done. Section by section the fields were growing bare.

Andre just stood in utter shock as his family's livelihood was vanishing before his very eyes. Finally, Michael came up and shook his shoulder, bringing him back to conscious thought. Andre spared Michael a glance before running into the house and grabbing a rifle.

Andre came back out and began firing at the monstrous worm. He fired and fired and fired with no effect. He reloaded his weapon for a second time and began again. Still, the creature continued on unconcerned. Andre began to despair, coming to realize his efforts were in vain. His family's business, that had survived for generations through droughts and wars, was going to die on his watch and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

He reloaded his rifle for a third time and began firing once again. Tears were running down his face. He already knew it was a pointless effort, but continued to fire despite this until his gun was out of ammo. He did it for no other reason than to avoid having to just stand there and watch it happen.

In Germany, the Wehrmacht was once again closing in on Varan. The Luftwaffe had been keeping tabs on him, but keeping their distance. In the immediate aftermath of the bridge's destruction, they had launched a second air assault that didn't do any better than the first despite a much greater amount of aircraft being at their disposal. Planes were deemed ineffective and relegated reconnaissance instead.

It had taken twenty-four hours for the ground forces to catch up with the monster, but they had been reinforced in the meantime. They felt confident they would be able to inflict damage with heavier artillery they were bringing in. The Germans had chased Varan to the foot of a mountain range, where it had stopped to sleep. They felt as though they finally had the monster cornered. The guns had been put into place and the tanks were moving into ready positions. All the pieces were in place, a major attack was imminent.

Reinhart and Fritz had stayed with the tanks the whole time, having to regroup, refuel, and find another bridge to cross the river. They pair had taken turns driving, allowing the other to get some sleep along the way. They would take no part in he battle, but had taken position on a mountain road near the Haltrechtshier dam. It gave them a perfect view of the battle that would take place below. They didn't have to wait very long.

The artillery opened up and tore up the ground around Varan, rousing it from its slumber. With the attack underway the tanks charged in and added in their fire power. The artillery was doing well. They were able to hit Varan frequently and accurately. For the first time, Varan was showing signs of pain when a shell would hit him in the lightly armored areas of his body. It roared angry and didn't try to run this time. Enraged, it actually charged the German lines. This took them by surprise. The monster had chosen to retreat in every instance it was attacked up until that moment.

The charging tanks suddenly found themselves at the monster's feet and several of them were crushed in rapid secession by its claws. The surviving ones backpedaled as quick as they could. They aimed their guns at the monster's face, trying to obscure its vision to buy themselves time to escape. They were partially successful.

Some of the shells were on target, forcing Varan to protect his eyes by blinking his transparent lids down over them. The smoke resulting from the explosions did make it hard for him to locate any targets for a few seconds. It also gave artillery just enough time to retrain their cannons and resuming their bombardment. At close range, they caused more than just a little discomfort for Varan and the monster was forced to back off.

The intensity of the barrage was increasing in frequency and accuracy as the artillery crews were starting to get into a rhythm and the gunners were learning to make minor adjustments to their aim through repetition. Varan seemed to understand the momentum of the fight was swinging against him. If he didn't do something dramatic soon, he was going to be in trouble.

Varan crouched down and launched himself in the air, aiming for a nearby cliff. The monster misjudged the distance though and it fell a little short. The sudden jolt of speed did give it a short reprieve from the cannon fire though and it began to climb the steep hill. Tanks below rushed forward again to keep the pressure up while the cannon crews were forced to reposition their guns.

From his vantage point, Reinhart could see what Varan was up to. The monster was climbing the cliff to make it into the relative safely of the water beyond the dam. Rains had been particularly heavy that month and the water beyond the dam was deep. If Varan was able to get into the water the artillery would be useless. The monster would be able to wait until dark and try to slip away in the night. After all the chasing they'd done already they would once again being trying to play catch up with the monster.

Suddenly, it looked as though the battle might turn once again. The artillery was again bringing fire down on the monster. Ironically, the shells that were on target were landing on Varan's back armor as it climbed and bouncing off harmlessly, while the missing shells were exploding against the rock face, which was destabilizing the soil the monster was clinging on to.

Reinhart could see that Varan was starting to loose its footing. It was struggling to find a place above it that was solid enough to hold its weight. The monster was a sitting duck, not able to progress any further up the steep ridge. It was just a matter of time before the artillery would be able to blow him off his perch. It looked like Varan was just moments from rolling down the jagged rock face. This was not not to be though.

Again, in desperation, Varan used his powerful hind legs to launch himself upwards. He managed to get just enough distance to find a more reliable perch to continue climbing. This time he was only a few dozen yards away from the top, which was little trouble for him to traverse before the artillery had a chance to reacquire him.

Varan made it to the top. It looked as though he was about to pull off another miraculous escape. But it didn't move. Instead, it just sat up there looking down at the men of the Wehrmacht, who would once again not able to immediately peruse it without a significant detour prior. Finally, the monster began to turn, but not to leave. Instead, it marched forward towards Fritz and Reinhart's truck on the opposite side of the Dam.

Upon reaching the dam, the monster dived into the water on the far side and disappeared below. Seconds later, the dam cracked from the monster ramming it's spiked head into it. Reinhart could tell because one of the monster's horns managed to puncture all the way though the thick cement wall. The horn retracted, allowing a spout of water to begin flowing through. The monster repeated the attack on a different section of the wall with similar results. Then a third time. It quickly became clear to the forces below what was about to happen. Reinhart and Fritz could only watch helplessly.

The fourth attack was finally more than the dam could take. It was already in shambles from the previous impacts. When Varan slammed into the dam for the fourth and final time, the whole structure gave way under the pressure. Varan, huge chucks of cement that had been part of the dam, and millions upon millions of gallons of water poured down on the tanks below.

Reinhart saw the whole thing from his perch. One by one, the men and machines below were swallowed by the flood. Tankers were engulfed and drowned under twenty feet of water, unable to escape their panzers. Trucks filled with troops trying to escape were swept clean off the road by the crushing waves. All of ground forces in the valley were wiped out in seconds, an entire German army obliterated.

That was bad, but what came next was worse. The flood waters didn't stop in the valley. Without the dam to hold back the the record amount of rainfall they had that year, it continued down stream northward and proceeded to wash out every bridge and flood every town it encountered along the way. Dykes and smalls dams were overwhelmed by the massive amount of water and also gave way, spreading the destruction even further. Magdenburg, Wittenburg, Luneburg, and finally Hamburg were overwhelmed by the flooding, causing immense damage to the cities and killing thousands of German civilians in the process. Bodies of the victims floated in the flooded streets to haunt the survivors.

The damage was not just limited to urban areas either. In the German countryside, crops were washed away and countless acres of rich farmland were ruined by the salt and sand that were spread in the wake of the water. The sediment would render those lands unusable for years to follow. Livestock was drowned in their pens unable to escape. Roads were washed out, which made getting aid to people in need even harder.

The mass of destruction was the worst natural and military disaster in German history. It was a knockout punch for Varan. Any immediate threat the Wehrmacht had posed to it was gone. The German army still had other military units all over the country, but nothing else nearby. The forces that were near would be caught up in disaster relief operations. From that point forward their first concern would be to help and protect their people from the ecological fallout the monster had created. Varan was mostly free to roam as it pleased. The Luftwaffe could still harass it, but that's about all they could do.

Having won the day, Varan waded it way through the water and began to move west unopposed.