Kylie McLeod, a former Maritime Aviation Warfare Officer, had been working for the Royal Australian Airforce as Air Battle Manager for over 6 years now, controlling the tactical battle space and coordinating and integrating an array of ADF and Coalition aircraft and forces in combat operations. Today however, she was commissioned to supervise and work with the analytical engineering detail stationed at Towra Point in charge of computer simulations to figure out the best way of ending the creature and relaying all Intel to the fighter pilots.
They were using the old base at Towra Point because it held several vantage points. It was situated on higher ground on the shore line, and there were a couple of large hangars surrounding two full-range radar towers – to share the outrageous amount of influx of information.
Army, Airforce and Navy were doing their part but in the end, the only thing that at least got the Kaiju's attention was airborne attacks. The funny thing was that since the military was seemingly holding the creature at bay, people in the city did not get overly worried. They went about their daily routines, placing full trust in the RAAF to take the Kaiju down before it reached Sydney. The military, however, was not able to fend off the creature, not even with a nuclear missile attack some 200 km off North Head in the open sea. It merely delayed the creature before it finally tore into Downtown Sidney where it caused mayhem for three days.
One of her co-workers had the unfortunate job to compile and analyze the incoming data of destruction and make them visible on the big screen, which made the disastrous devastation a little too obvious, a little too real. Every time the lights designated to a specific area lit up, indicating the passing of the Kaiju, and ultimately, that area's obliteration, everybody around would fall silent. Some had tears in their eyes, men and women alike.
Three days!
It took the military three days to lure the monster to a more or less isolated location around the area of Garigal National Park.
For Kylie, it was three days packed with panic and worry. Three days of not being able to return to her family, not even being able to reach them for the past couple of hours – three days of 15 minute naps every now and then and no sleep during the night, which was the time the monster was most destructive and vicious – three days of not being able to provide solutions for the fighter pilots.
Lindfield, a small area with mostly gated communities was where her parents lived and it bordered Garigal National Park where the Kaiju was now bringing about pandemonium levels of devastation.
She had left for work in a hurry three days ago when the call to duty for all active military personnel had come in, had left her toddler in her parents' care as usual, and now was not able to get a hold of them.
Being in on the radio loop between the fighter pilot commanders and the coordinators at the base, she received the millions of voice exchanges over the comms, most of them as desperate as every other conversation she was hearing from the people around her.
One pilot stood out though, a Fast Jet Pilot on board of a F-35 Joint Strike Fighter aircraft named Hansen, designation 149. He was constantly asking – sometimes outright demanding – new Intel, new perspectives, new ways of attack, but unfortunately, most of the time, Kylie could not deliver. And more than once, she would bury her head in her hands.
There had never been a time when she hated her job more than today. Things were not looking good, it all seemed hopeless. Hansen was nagging her over the comm, trying to tell her how to do her job.
"Towra Base, listen! You should be conducting surveillance operations to inform the pilots and shape the mission using whatever long-range sensors and satellite technology you have available!" came his rugged voice over the comm.
"And what in the world do you think I am doing here, 149?" she hollered back into the microphone. "I have been analyzing that data since I got here. And I am giving you every piece of Intel I have. I don't know if you are aware of the fact that we are fighting an alien!" Her voice turned shrill. "AN ALIEN! I am not a fucking magician, I simply cannot give you what you want even if I wanted to!" She fell back into the chair, eyes brimming with tears, hands shaking – that was how desperate she felt.
"Oh, so this is how we're going to play this game?" He growled into the comm.
"I don't know about you, but I'm not in the mood for playing any games!" She spat back. "I've got enough on my plate and I honestly don't need another pain in the ass like you! I'll give you whatever information I have when I have it. If that doesn't work for you, then I'm done with you!"
She could understand where Hansen was coming from but she was just not able to deliver. He was unusually quiet for the next few minutes until he blurted out an "I am sorry" and took up talking to air command and two other pilots.
Everybody was at their wits' end. All simulations had rendered inconclusive, there were too many variables, too little knowledge, too little time. People were dying and the Kaiju seemed to be getting more and more daring and aggressive. However, even though it was huge in height and mass, Scissure was not clumsy and even exhibited behavior that suggested that it possessed at least limited intelligence. And it simply was too strong.
What was left of her unit was in frantic multitasking mode. People were running around like busy bees, scared busy bees, compiling information, reviewing and relaying it, but in the end it became evident that there was no point to all the effort.
Little by little, the large hangar emptied out, as people simply deserted their posts over time. Most of them had families and friends somewhere in the zone and since it was getting clear that there was nothing more that could be done, they simply gave up.
Kylie didn't notice much of it. She was busy trying to get a grip on things – which were obviously slipping out of everybody's hands – and trying to reach her parents. Regular phone communication was close to inexistent because of the massive destruction and also because of the military having taken over most of the channels. The satellite phone and the comm link were the only ways of getting in touch with the outside world, but even there she could tell that gradually less and less pilots send any messages. Only Hansen's impertinent comments reminded her that there was still a battle being fought.