Ruffin watched Titanosaurus stomp through Tokyo. Skyscrapers shattered, debris tumbled to the streets. Smaller buildings were smashed beneath the monster's huge feet.
Why Tokyo? Ruffin thought, feeling detached as he observed the rampage. Tokyo was on the other side of the world. Shouldn't Titanosaurus be attacking someplace closer?
Silver, manta-shaped spaceships filled the sky. They spat out blue laser beams. Buildings burst into flames. Ruffin wanted to do something, wanted to fight back. Instead he stood frozen.
"John?"
He turned around. Miranda stood nearby, a concerned look on her face. He tried to go to her. Again, he was frozen.
A fireball burst in front of him. Miranda vanished.
Ruffin opened his mouth, wanting to scream out her name. Silence.
"Ruff. Hey, Ruff."
His eyes snapped open. The carnage around him disappeared, replaced by the darkened interior of Duck Soup. Skrag's bearded face hovered above him.
Damn nightmare. He groaned and rubbed his face, wondering if that nightmare would soon become a reality.
"What is it?" he asked Skrag.
"The Chief's on the horn. He wants to talk to you. We got some super serious mega-shit goin' down."
Tension coiled around Ruffin's insides. He didn't bother to ask who, or what, was responsible for the "super serious mega-shit."
He followed Skrag to the cockpit, where the co-pilot, Dave Underwood, flew the sea plane. Ruffin picked up a headset and put it on.
"Ruffin here, Chief."
"Major, I'm afraid I've got some bad news."
Ruffin held his breath as the CEO of Shield International continued. "We lost the Eisenhower and Truman carrier battle groups."
His eyes widened. "Lost them? They were destroyed?"
"Affirmative. Titanosaurus took them out. SAR units are just arriving on the scene, but it looks like the death toll is going to exceed ten thousand."
A chill went up and down his body. Ten thousand sailors and brother Marines. Dead. Just like that. All of them part of the most powerful naval force in history.
A force that could do nothing to stop Titanosaurus.
Ruffin closed his eyes, shunting the numbing fear from his mind. His brain started working again. "The cruise ship. Titanosaurus must have destroyed that, too. Chief, you think the Simbaaku and the Venezuelans did that to lure our battle groups here to wipe them out?"
"That's exactly what I think."
"Were they able to hurt Titanosaurus?"
"Not that I'm aware of. From what I can determine, it took them completely by surprise?"
Ruffin's brow furrowed. "But you warned the Pentagon. You showed them the footage we sent you from Puerto Caballo." He had uploaded it to Shield International's operations center at Camp Ogden just minutes after he and his team returned to Duck Soup.
"I tried. The furthest I got was some dipshit aide to the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He accused us of using CGI effects and cut me off."
"Friggin' wonderful."
"Remember, we aren't very popular in Washington."
That made Ruffin steam. Thanks to the Pentagon's damn prejudice against Shield International, two carrier battle groups and ten thousand US servicemen and women were at the bottom of the Caribbean Sea.
"Any idea where Titanosaurus is now?"
Briggs paused, a pause that made worry bubble inside Ruffin. "One of the submarines attached to the battle groups tracked it heading toward Trinidad, before Titanosaurus took it out."
Ruffin fought to keep fear from overwhelming him. "What are we doing to get ready for it?"
"The Eighty-Second Airborne is setting up a perimeter to the east of Port of Spain. But it's an infantry battalion. The heaviest weapons they have are anti-tank missiles and mortars."
"Yeah. Like those are gonna do anything to Titanosaurus."
"I know," Briggs said. "I've got our air wing armed and ready to go when Titanosaurus makes landfall."
"I hate to say this, Chief, but if our carrier battle groups couldn't knock out Titanosaurus, I doubt a bunch of old fighter jets and bombers are gonna do any better."
"I agree. The best we can hope for is that we buy time for the Trinidad and Tobago Regiment and police to evacuate as many people from Port of Spain as possible."
Ruffin clenched his jaw. Fifty-seven thousand people lived in the capital, with just as many commuters and tourists. They'd be lucky to get a couple thousand out of the city before that damn monster showed up.
"What do you want us to do?" Ruffin asked.
"Sergeant Jellicoe will be waiting for you at the port when you land. Help him and the Regiment with evacuation efforts."
"Yes, Sir." He frowned for a moment. Much as he'd rather be in the middle of the fight, he knew the weapons he and his team had wouldn't even annoy Titanosaurus. Right now the only useful thing they could do was help people get the hell out of Port of Spain.
When Briggs signed off, Ruffin remained in the cockpit, his hands gripping the backs of pilot's and co-pilot's seats. He held his breath, his thoughts turning to one person in particular in Port of Spain.
Reaching into his combat vest, he pulled out the satellite phone. Ruffin knew a personal call on a secure SATPHONE was a violation of Shield International protocol.
Screw it. He dialed the number he knew by heart.
"Miranda Quintero."
"Miranda, it's John."
"John? Where are you?"
"Better you not know. I take it you heard about Titanosaurus."
"Yes. Our latest estimates have him coming ashore in less than two hours."
"Are you still in Port of Spain?" Ruffin asked.
"Yes."
"Then get the hell out of there. Now."
"I can't. Orders from Langley. They want us to remain here and observe Titanosaurus' attack."
"What the hell for?"
"To analyze its behavior, maybe find any weaknesses."
"For God's sake, Miranda. The analysts back at Langley can do that by looking at the footage from the Japan attack thirty years ago. Titanosaurus took out two of our carrier battle groups like that. That thing is gonna level Port of Spain. You and the rest of your people need to get out now."
"Even if we wanted to, we couldn't. The streets are jammed with people trying to leave the city."
Ruffin felt his stomach plunge into a black hole of dread. "Then promise me if that thing gets too close, you'll find someplace to hole up. A basement, a bomb shelter. Someplace."
"I will. What about you?"
"The Chief wants me and my team to help the Defense Force with evacuations."
A pause. "Be careful, John. I . . . just be careful."
He swallowed, wanting to say something, the words frozen on his tongue. All he could get out was, "You, too."
XXXXX
"Damn, would you look at that," Skrag said an hour later as Duck Soup approached the capital's port.
Underwood leaned forward in the co-pilot's seat. "Jeez, it looks like a zoo down there."
Skrag glanced at the port as Duck Soup descended. Thousands of people crowded the waterfront. A line of figures in green and brown fatigues stood between them and the docks. Members of the Trinidad and Tobago Regiment, he assumed. A fleet of boats large and small either sailed into the Caribbean Sea or sat near the docks as people scrambled on them. Fishing boats, yachts, cargo ships, speedboats. Anything that could float, the Trinidadians used to get people the Hell out of Dodge.
He frowned, wondering how many would still be stuck here when Titanosaurus showed up.
Skrag set Duck Soup down in the water and guided her to an open dock. He kept the engines idling, since he had to fly to the airport where Sky Bitch was as soon as he offloaded Ruff and his boys. He twisted around in his seat and saw the crew chief open the side door.
"You guys be safe out there."
Ruff turned to him. "Us? You're the one painting a target on your ass for Titanosaurus. You be safe."
Skrag opened his mouth, ready for one of his usual wisecracks. None came to mind.
What the hell's wrong with me?
Again, he tried to think of some cool retort. He found it hard to do so when he saw so many scared and desperate people out the cockpit windows.
"We'll do what we can to keep that big dumb lizard busy. You just get as many people out of here as you can."
"You got it." Ruffin gave him a thumbs-up and exited the plane. Fetisov, Gomez and Akua followed, each one wishing him good luck.
The crew chief was about to close the door when a soldier boarded the plane, one Skrag recognized. It was Sergeant Jellicoe, the Regiment's liaison with Shield International.
"Mister Skrag. I was told you are headed to the airport."
"That's right, Sarge. Gotta get Sky Bitch in the air and barbecue some big-ass iguana."
"Then I must ask that you take some civilians with you. There are still some evacuation flights that have not yet left Piarco."
Skrag agreed. Jellicoe left, then came back with twenty children ranging in age from six to thirteen. All of them looked terrified or confused, or both. A pang of sympathy went through Skrag. His thoughts turned to his four children. Sure they were all grown now, but he still remembered back to when they were younger and completely dependent on their parents. Well, mainly on whichever woman they called mom. There were three of them, after all.
True, he'd never win a Father of the Year Award, but that didn't mean he didn't care about children.
Once they got Duck Soup in the air, he turned the plane over to Underwood and went back in the cabin with the kids. He tried to get them to sing along to Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird." The kids had a very hard time doing it, but so what? It helped get their minds off the current situation.
When they landed at Piarco International Airport, Skrag handed off the kids to an attendant from Caribbean Airlines. He, Underwood and the crew chief then hurried to the area of the airport where Shield International kept its aircraft. His brow furrowed when he saw his fellow pilots bunched together in a group. A line of soldiers stood between them and their aircraft. Not Trinidadian soldiers. US soldiers. 82nd Airborne.
"What the crap?" Skrag muttered as he spotted Zelaya near the rear of the group. "Yo, Z-Man! Da'hell's goin' on here?"
The Honduran pilot turned to him. "The Americans. They won't let us get to our planes."
"What?" Skrag made his way to the front of the group. A few feet away stood half-a-dozen paratroopers clutching M-4 carbines. At the head of the squad was a short, fit-looking kid with pale skin who couldn't have been more than 23. The nametag read MCGLOTHEN. Skrag spotted the gold bars on his collar. A second lieutenant, the bottom rung on the officer's ladder.
"There a problem here, Lieutenant McGlothen?"
"Orders, Sir. My platoon is to prevent you from boarding your aircraft."
Skrag folded his arms. "I don't think you have the authority for that, son. We're working for the government of Trinidad and Tobago, not Uncle Sam."
"According to US Southern Command, you're still an American-based company, therefore subject to American laws. As such, we can't allow you to interfere with a US military operation."
"Screw orders! There's a big freakin' killer dinosaur controlled by aliens on its way here. You need every damn thing that goes boom you can muster."
"Sorry, Sir. I have my orders." McGlothen clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze to the ground, as though uncomfortable explaining his orders.
Skrag opened his mouth to say something else when Zelaya put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry. Tombstone left here a little while ago. He said he'll fix this."
"How?"
"I think we're about to find out," said Marko Eder, Tombstone's backseater, as he pointed to the sky.
Skrag saw a Trinidad and Tobago Defense Forces Eurocopter AS355 descending. The chopper with the bulbous fuselage landed nearby, and out stepped Tombstone, clad in his flightsuit, cowboy hat, boots and hip holster with a replica Peacemaker revolver. The German wore a huge shit-eating grin as he strode up to them.
"What are you smilin' about?" Skrag asked.
Tombstone didn't answer. He just marched up to McGlothen, tipped his hat and handed him a piece of paper. "Guten tag, Lieutenant. This is for you, courtesy of President Wheeler."
Skrag's eyes widened. President Wheeler? As in the President of Trinidad and Tobago?
McGlothen held the paper in both hands and read it. Skrag sidled up next to him and scanned it. The more he read, the more his smile widened.
The letter had three paragraphs. The first granted immediate Trinidadian citizenship to all members of the Shield International air wing. The second pressed them, their aircraft and all associated equipment into service with the Trinidad and Tobago Air Guard. The final paragraph authorized them to use "all means at their disposal to defend the nation against any hostile actions by the Venezuelans and their allies."
The bottom of the letter bore the signature of President Wheeler.
Skrag patted McGlothen on the shoulder. "Looks pretty official to me, son, huh?"
McGlothen turned to him. Skrag expected the kid throw a fit and stomp off to contact his superiors, since Second Lueys couldn't wipe their asses without orders from higher up.
Instead, McGlothen turned to his men and showed them the letter. "This is an official letter from President Wheeler of Trinidad. These men are now members of this nation's Defense Forces. We have no authority over them. Stand down."
The paratroopers obeyed.
"Good luck, Sirs." McGlothen nodded and walked away with his men, looking relieved, even a bit glad. Skrag wondered if the kid thought his orders - which he had no doubt came from Asshole Atherton in the White House – were bullshit.
Tombstone turned to the pilots. "All right, pardners. Let's saddle up and hit the sky."
Ten minutes later, two of Shield International's F-4 Phantoms rocketed into the air. Skrag had taxied his B-25, Sky Bitch, onto the runway when he received word from their command and control plane, Eclipse.
Titanosaurus had come ashore near Sangre Grande, just 25 miles east of the airport.
Skrag drew a deep breath. Tension crept up his back. This was gettin' really real.
Minutes later Sky Bitch was airborne. He'd barely been in the wild blue for two minutes when he saw Titanosaurus beyond the forests and fields and villages stretching toward the horizon. The monster grew larger by the second. Underwood made the sign of the cross and muttered a prayer.
Skrag felt fear rise in him. His arms shook for a few moments until he got them under control. This wasn't the first time he'd been in a hairy situation.
Of course, none of those other hairy situations involved a giant monster.
"All AGM capable aircraft," Tombstone radioed, using the acronym for air-to-ground missile. "Establish lock on target."
"Let's try to hit it in its ugly face," Skrag suggested. "Maybe we can blind the son-of-a-bitch."
Tombstone paused a few moments before responding. "Do it."
Skrag activated two of the RBS-15 anti-ship missiles in the bomb bay.
"Good tone," he radioed.
More voices repeated the words in his headphones.
"Fire!" Tombstone hollered.
Skrag hit the fire button. The B-25 rose slightly as the two 1,763-pound Swedish-made missiles fell away from the bomb bay. Moments later over a dozen contrails streaked toward Titanosaurus. Skrag tensed and watched the missiles quickly eat up the distance.
Fireballs burst across the monster's face and neck. It stumbled back, flailing its arms.
"Yeah! Take that, you ugly bastard!"
Titanosaurus turned away, smoke rising from its face. The monster didn't go down, but it was stunned. It'd probably need a couple of minutes to recover. Every minute they could slow it down meant more people Ruffin and the others could evacuate from Port of Spain.
"Come around for second attack," ordered Tombstone.
Skrag twisted the wheel around as Underwood prepped two more RBS-15s. Titanosaurus rocked its head back and forth, as though shaking out the cobwebs.
He straightened out Sky Bitch, waiting for Underwood to report a good lock.
Titanosaurus turned its back to the approaching aircraft. For a fleeting moment, Skrag wondered, even hoped, that the monster would jump back into the sea and swim away.
Instead, it swung its body back and forth.
"What the hell is it doing?" asked Underwood.
"No idea."
Something struck Sky Bitch. Tremors rocked theold twin-engine bomber.
"Shit!" Skrag clenched his teeth and gripped the wheel. Vibrations raced up his arms. The plane rocked left and right. He felt like he was trapped inside a giant baby rattle.
Titanosaurus continued to swing back and forth, its tail high in the air. That's when Skrag noticed the large fin on the tip of the monster's tail. His throat tightened, remembering the images from thirty years ago of that tailfin generating hurricane-force winds that ripped apart whole sections of Tokyo.
He pushed the throttle to full military power, trying to plow through the windstorm. The never-ending quake threw the B-25 in all directions. Skrag glanced Zelaya's stubby A-37 attack jet tumbling end over end. One of the F4U Corsairs flipped over on its back and plowed into the ground, sending up a fireball.
Skrag couldn't think about that. All his focus was on trying to control Sky Bitch so –
A horrific, metallic tearing sound filled the plane. An invisible force yanked it hard to the right. Skrag bellowed as he fought to straighten out the bomber.
Something flashed by the windscreen. He suddenly fell silent as he watched most of the left wing spiral out of sight.
Skrag's body immediately went cold. His grip on the wheel slackened as Sky Bitch heaved further to the right. What was the point? No plane could fly on one wing.
He shivered uncontrollably. I still have too much living to do.
Skrag glanced down at the handle for his ejection seat. He was about to grab it, then stopped. Any parachute would get mangled by those winds.
Sky Bitch flipped over. Underwood screamed. Skrag closed his eyes. Tears trickled down his cheeks when he felt one final thump.
XXXXX
"Please, I'm begging you. Let me leave."
"I'm only twenty-one! I can't die!"
"Look. Look. This is a Rolex. Worth ten thousand dollars. It's yours if you get me on that ship."
"Women and children first!" Ruffin stated for what he felt had to be the ten thousandth time to the pleading men in the crowd. He gripped his G36 rifle tighter as he, his team and the Trinidad and Tobago Regiment maintained their human barrier. Behind him, evacuees streamed up the gangplank to the Van Speijk, a Karel Doorman-class frigate of the Dutch navy that had been en route to the Netherlands Antilles when it was re-tasked to assist with the evacuation.
Ten minutes later, the Van Speijk's crew raised the gangplank. Angry and panicked shouts erupted from the mass of people crowding the Port of Spain's port. He feared they might try to storm the frigate. Then what? How could they hope to hold back this many people? What was to stop them from becoming violent when the mob mentality took over? Would he be forced to shoot them? The thought sickened him. He was a Marine. He'd been trained to shoot enemy soldiers and terrorists and pirates, not unarmed civilians. But would he have a choice if they all wanted to rip him apart with their bare hands?
Van Speijk pulled away from the dock a few minutes later. The shouts from the crowd grew louder and more demanding. Luckily, no one got violent.
Yet.
Ruffin glanced over his shoulder. Van Speijk began to swing around and head for open sea. Three more ships were due to arrive in the port in the next half-hour to evacuate more civilians. He wondered if they'd get here before Titanosaurus.
"Major Ruffin."
He turned to find Sergeant Jellicoe walking up behind him. The Trinidadian leaned close to him and whispered, "I just heard from headquarters. Titanosaurus is only a couple of kilometers away from the city."
Ruffin just stared silently at Jellicoe. He then looked back at the crowd. He doubted they would stay so orderly when they caught sight of the monster.
"We're starting to take people to some of the basements and underground storage facilities around the port," Jellicoe told him. "But I doubt there is enough room for everyone here."
"We'll have to find some places in the city itself, and hope they hold up when Titanosaurus attacks."
Jellicoe nodded, though doubt showed in his eyes. Hell, Ruffin even doubted his suggestion. But right now, they didn't have much choice.
Jellicoe took a few steps away from him when a trumpeting sound carried over the crowd. The noise from the thousands of Trinidadians dropped off. Many turned and looked to the east. Another trumpeting sound rippled through the air.
All of Ruffin's muscles tightened. His eyes flickered from the distant hills to the crowd.
Things were about to get really bad.
No, things were about to get way past really bad.
A reptilian head poked over the hills, followed by a long neck, then a scaly body.
Titanosaurus let loose another roar and stomped toward Port of Spain.
As one, the crowd screamed in terror. People pushed one another, trying to run in all directions.
Part of the crowd surged forward. Ruffin and the others in the human barrier tried to push back. They had no chance against hundreds of bodies fueled by fear.
Ruffin tumbled backwards off the dock. His rifle flew from his hands as he hit the water. More people splashed around him. He kicked, propelling himself toward the surface. Just as he broke through the water, a chubby man splashed next to him, clipping his shoulder. He growled in pain, then pushed it aside and looked in all directions. Over a hundred Trinidadians swam for all they were worth, maybe out to sea, maybe for the frigate. Maybe they had no destination in mind, fear overwhelming any sort of rational thinking.
Within the mass of panicked people he found Sergeant Major Best, then Fetisov, then Jaelin Hughes.
"Stay together!" he shouted. "All my guys! Stay together!"
He swung his head back and forth, trying to find the rest of his team. Titanosaurus roared again. The monster swatted a high-rise a few miles away. The top half shattered and tumbled toward the street. It then raised its hands and fired its claw missiles. More tall buildings exploded as though they'd been made of toothpicks.
Miranda. Fear welled up inside him. Was she all right? Did she find shelter somewhere? If anything happened to her . . .
Screams went up around Ruffin. He looked around. Many of the Trinidadians stopped swimming. A number of them pointed and shouted. He turned in the water.
Oh my God.
A cold knife of fear tore through his gut as he watched the huge white wake barreling toward the port. Did the Venezuelans and Simbaaku have another monster? His gaze shifted to the Van Speijk. Any second he expected the wake to collide with the Dutch frigate. His fear turned to the hundreds of sailors and civilians on board the vessel, people he had no chance of saving.
The wake gave Van Speijk a wide berth. Suddenly a geyser of water exploded. He could make out an enormous dark silhouette through the sheets of water. It didn't take long for the form to become more distinct. The green scales, the large jagged, kite-shaped plates running down the back, the stubby snout.
Ruffin craned his neck and gaped, watching as Godzilla reared back and unleashed a prolonged, ear-splitting roar.
NEXT: GODZILLA VS. TITANOSAURUS!