The sudden loss of the signal from Venezuela sent a shock through Titanosaurus' system. He froze, unsure of what to do.
Godzilla took advantage. He rushed forward and grabbed Titanosaurus' tail. The monster roared and twisted from side-to-side, trying to break free.
Godzilla maintained his grip. With a roar, he bent the tail. Bone and cartilage shattered in an explosive crack! Titanosaurus wailed. Godzilla reared back and flung Titanosaurus across downtown. He smashed through buildings and slammed into the ground, rolling across five city blocks.
Roaring, Godzilla rushed after the fallen monster. Titanosaurus thrashed on the ground, pounding rubble in a maddened fit of pain. Godzilla stood over him and rained down one clubbing blow after another. Titanosaurus rolled on his back and flailed, trying to knock aside his foe's arms. Godzilla continued to pound him.
Titanosaurus rolled on his side and lashed out with his one good hand. Claws sank into Godzilla's right leg. He roared and jumped back. Titanosaurus pushed himself to his feet, roared and charged. He tackled Godzilla. Both monsters crashed into a block of high rise apartments, pulverizing them.
XXXXX
The rumble of jet engines grew louder. Lieutenant McGlothen turned on his back and stared up at the night sky. An icy wave of fear rushed over his body as he saw four orange glows race across the sky from the west. It didn't take him long to make out their silhouettes. Skinny body, pointy nose, stubby wings. They were F-5s, better suited for ground attack than the SU-30 that unsuccessfully strafed them.
Tracers flew up from the ground as the paratroopers and Trinidadians turned their rifles and machine guns on the approaching jets. Even McGlothen joined in the barrage, though in the back of his mind he knew it was futile. Still, if he was going to be blown to bits by rockets and bombs, he'd rather go down with guns blazing than curled up in this damn shell crater.
Fear gave way to anger, anger that he had failed in his mission. Once the F-5s finished with them, the Venezuelans would overrun any survivors with ease. They'd enter the underground base, and Major Ruffin and his commandoes would be killed.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
The roar of jet engines tore through the air around him. McGlothen held his breath. This was it.
Something orange streaked across the sky and struck one of the F-5s. It turned into a fireball. Another F-5 banked to the left and spat out flares. Seconds later it exploded.
Joy burst through McGlothen as he watched a Shield International F-8 Crusader blast through the darkened sky. Four flickers of orange lit up its nose. Flame and smoke trailed a third F-5 as it tumbled toward the ground.
The fourth F-5 pulled a hard right, lit its afterburners and headed deeper into the Venezuelan interior.
Cheers went up all around McGlothen.
"To hell with cheering!" he shouted. "Keep shooting!"
He turned around and propped his M4 on the lip of the crater. Several marines advanced toward their lines.
McGlothen pulled the trigger.
XXXXX
"Splash one!" Marko Eder blurted from the backseat of the F-4 Phantom. "Splash one!"
"Yee-haw!" Tombstone pumped his fist as he barreled through the darkness. In the distance he watched the flaming wreckage of the Venezuelan F-16 tumble out of the sky. Seconds later the remaining F-16 exploded, courtesy of a pair of Sparrow missiles from his wingman, Ross Farmer.
"And there go all of our medium-range missiles," Eder lamented. "All we have left are Sidewinders and guns. Now we must have a knife fight with those SU-30s."
Tombstone grimaced. There was no way his old Phantom could win a head-to-head engagement with an advanced fighter like the SU-30.
Not that he was worried.
"We do not 'knife fight' them, my friend. We fight them sneaky." Tombstone grinned and got on the radio. "Bronco Flight. Form up on me and climb."
He pulled back on the stick. The massive, invisible hand created by the g-forces threatened to push him through his ejection seat. He grunted and clenched his stomach, trying to keep the blood flowing through his head. If he couldn't do that, the Gs would condense his vision into an ever shrinking circle until he blacked out.
That would not be good in combat.
At 15,000 feet, the two Phantoms and one Crusader nosed over and dove for the deck, the same tactic the Americans used early in World War II to attack Japanese Zeros, which had been far superior to their Warhawks and Wildcats.
Tombstone spotted one of the SU-30s strafing the rear of the van Speijk.
"Tally on one bandit. It's attacking the frigate from the rear."
"Tally on second bandit," reported Patrice Cabaye, an ex-French Navy pilot flying the F-8 Crusader. "It is wheeling around, preparing to attack the frigate's starboard side."
"Let's bushwhack them!"
Tombstone watched the SU-30 flash over the frigate. He brought the nose up little by little, the gunsight in his Phantom's Heads-Up Display leading the Russian-built fighter. It continued straight over the sea, then swung left, probably lining up for another strafing run.
Wait . . . wait . . . His finger hovered over the trigger. The sea grew closer and closer.
Now!
Tombstone crushed the trigger. The Phantom rattled as its 20mm gatling gun fired. Tracers cut through the night and intersected with the SU-30. Sparks jumped off the jet fighter. A ball of orange flashed over its rear. Smoke gushed from one of the engines. Seconds later a huge fountain of water exploded from the sea.
"Splash one," Tombstone announced. "Splash one."
"Splash two," radioed Cabaye.
Tombstone nodded in satisfaction, then changed frequencies. "Bronco One to Eclipse."
"Eclipse. Go."
"Good news to report. The sky around our shindig is clear of black hats."
XXXXX
The debris cloud blinded both monsters. Godzilla roared and blinked as dust pelted his eyes. He got to his feet, swinging his massive body from left to right, desperately searching for his foe.
A huge figure materialized before him. Godzilla opened his maw and breathed radioactive flame. A fireball exploded on Titanosaurus' chest, knocking him backwards.
Godzilla charged out of the dust cloud and saw Titanosaurus pushing himself to his feet. The scorched flesh on his chest had already started to heal. Even the left arm that had been reduced to a blackened stump had almost completely regenerated.
Godzilla whipped around his tail and struck Titanosaurus in the side. The monster stumbled backward, crushing more buildings. Godzilla rammed a shoulder into Titanosaurus and clubbed him with his right hand.
Titanosaurus knocked away Godzilla's fist and bit into his shoulder. Godzilla bellowed and slashed at his opponent's neck, digging out massive, bloody gashes. Titanosaurus' jaws remained clamped on Godzilla's shoulder. A wet, ripping sound filled the air. Titanosaurus lifted his head, with part of Godzilla's flesh in his mouth.
Pain drilled through his body. Godzilla cried out and pressed a hand on his torn shoulder. Blood poured down his torso.
Titanosaurus roared and hit Godzilla twice in the neck. He brought up his right hand and aimed all four kinetic-energy claws point blank at his foe's head.
Godzilla snapped his head down. His jaws clamped down on Titanosaurus' arm just as he fired. The claws streaked over Houston for miles and miles.
Godzilla bit down harder. Titanosaurus wailed and swatted him on the side of the head. Godzilla didn't let go. His teeth dug deeper into Titanosaurus' flesh. Then he pulled . . . pulled . . .
He ripped off Titanosaurus' arm.
XXXXX
Stop. Fire. Stop. Fire. McGlothen and the others continued to do that as they dashed through the jungle and toward the beach. The Venezuelans pursued them. There had to be hundreds of them. The strafing runs by the Shield International jets didn't seem to diminish their numbers much.
McGlothen ducked behind a tree. Dozens of strobes lit up the forest sixty yards away. He fired his M4 until his magazine ran dry and slapped in another one. His last.
He took off running, ducking under branches. Bullets cracked around him or smacked against trees. A figure nearby yelped and fell. It looked like one of the Trinidadians.
He did not get up.
Get to the beach. Gotta get to the beach.
Then what? Nelson, the Trinidadian ship that was supposed to evacuate the ground forces, had been sunk by a submarine. Eclipse had also informed them van Speijk's 76mm gun had been destroyed by Venezuelan jets. So much for their fire support.
The Americans and Trinidadians broke through the jungle and hurried onto the beach. A few miles offshore he saw the van Speijk, flames glowing near its bow. Just beyond the surf sat the RHIBs used by the Trinidadian to come ashore.
They were almost there.
Gunfire erupted from the jungle. Four men twisted and fell.
"Down! Everyone down!"
McGlothen and the other soldiers dropped to their stomachs and returned fire. Nearby, the Shield International sniper Jaelin Hughes fired off one deliberate round after another, using a captured AK-103 since his Remington had run out of bullets.
"Spillman!" McGlothen hollered.
The radioman crawled over to him and gave him the handset.
"Alpha Six to Eclipse."
"Eclipse. Go."
"We've arrived at exfil point, taking heavy fire. Hostiles minimum seventy yards from our position. We need fire support, and we need it right the hell now!"
"Roger, Alpha Six. Hold your position. We'll arrange for fire support. Out."
McGlothen glared at the handset as gunfire erupted all around him. Two grenades went off near their lines. The treeline turned into a never-ending string of deadly orange flashes.
Hold our position. Like it's going to be that easy.
"Sir!" Spillman patted McGlothen's back. "Look!"
He looked over his shoulder as best he could. Five contrails rose from van Speijk and rocketed toward land.
No way. Those had to be Harpoons. The Dutch were using their anti-ship missiles against the marines.
"Heads down!" he hollered. "Missiles inbound! Keep your heads down!"
American and Trinidadian troops repeated the order. McGlothen tensed as the missiles roared overhead. Seconds later the ground shook with hammer blows. He dared to lift his head out of the sand. Five huge fireballs rose above the trees. The enemy fire ceased.
"Go! Go! Go!" McGlothen sprang to his feet. "Get to the boats! Get to the boats!"
The soldiers pounded across the sand. They made it to the RHIBs without taking any fire. Given their greatly reduced numbers, they didn't have to worry about making multiple trips to evacuate everyone off the beach. Of the original 80-plus man force, less than 30 remained.
They piled in the RHIBs and headed out to sea. They'd gone about three miles when two patrol boats approached them. Austal-class. Trinidad and Tobago Coast Guard. Friendlies.
McGlothen's RHIB pulled up alongside one of the boats. The name on the side read Scarlet Ibis.
"Glad to see you're in one piece, Lieutenant."
He looked up and saw a familiar face.
"I'm glad you blew up that control room, Sir" he said to Major Ruffin as the former US Marine helped him aboard. "So I guess Titanosaurus is finished."
"Not quite. That thing's still alive and kicking and wrecking the hell out of Houston. We just gotta hope Godzilla can put him down permanently."
McGlothen nodded. Even without being under alien control, Titanosaurus was still a threat to the world. Godzilla didn't fare so well in their last fight. Maybe this time –
"Missiles!" shouted the British guy, Sergeant Major Best.
McGlothen looked in the direction where Best pointed. Three glowing orange balls streaked over the water. The breath caught in his throat when he watched van Speijk slowly turn into the missiles.
What the hell's wrong with them? Did the Dutch have a death wish or something?
A low growling sound rippled through the air. A stream of tracers flew from van Speijk's Goalkeeper point defense gun. One by one the missiles exploded.
All the tension drained from his body. "Thank God," he muttered.
"Looks like we've got an enemy ship somewhere out there," said Best.
"Then why don't the Dutch launch some of their missiles and sink it?"
"They don't have any left," Ruffin told him. "They fired off the rest of their Harpoons covering your evac."
McGlothen suppressed a shiver. Without van Speijk's deck gun and anti-ship missiles, their little flotilla had nothing that could knock out one of Venezuela's Lupo-class frigates
Again, anger took the place of fear. They couldn't destroy the Titanosaurus control and make it off the beach only to die on their way home. They just couldn't.
He prayed, harder than at any other time in his life, that someone came up with a plan to destroy the enemy ship.
XXXXX
"I must tell you, this is the craziest plan you have ever had."
Tombstone grinned at Eder's comment. "Sometimes the craziest plans are the best ones." So long as you're alive to brag about it afterward.
But they really didn't have much choice. All of van Speijk's anti-ship assets were used up or destroyed. The Trinidadians' Austal-class patrol boats only had light cannons and machine guns, and the Venezuelan frigate could sink them long before they got within range to use those weapons.
Then again, all he and Cabaye had were Sidewinder missiles and what few rounds remained in their guns after all the strafing runs. Not the best weapons for taking out a ship, but as Chief Briggs had said back on Trinidad, they had to use whatever they had on hand.
"Begin attack run," Tombstone ordered.
"Beginning attack run," Cabaye replied.
Tombstone put his Phantom into a dive, with Cabaye's Crusader off his right wing. Farmer's Phantom flew a couple miles behind them, jamming the Venezuelan frigate.
Three knife-shaped ships plowed through the waves below them, two small ones flanking a larger vessel. Two POVZEE-class patrol boats and the frigate, identified as Almirante Brion. Those ships had fallen for the diversionary raid on Caracas. That is, until someone apparently got wise to it and ordered them back here.
Tombstone pointed the Phantom's nose at the bigger of the ships. Against the backdrop of the ocean, the residual heat of the launchers that fired the anti-ship missiles stood out like a spotlight. He hoped the Venezuelans hadn't burned through the jamming yet. He could do without SAMs.
A flurry of tracers rose from all three ships.
Damn. I forgot about their Triple A.
The anti-aircraft fire zipped around them. The Phantom bucked a couple of times. Sweat suddenly drenched Tombstone. Still he maintained his dive.
A bright flash went off to his left. Chills went through him as Cabaye's Crusader spun through the air in flames. He saw no parachute.
Tombstone clenched his teeth. He couldn't deal with the French pilot's death now. All his focus had to be on the Brion.
Another shudder went through the Phantom.
Closer . . . Closer . . . Now!
He ripple-fired three Sidewinders and banked away. The anti-aircraft fire followed him. A couple of rounds punched through the jet's rear, but he kept flying, and kept looking back.
A small fireball rose from Brion. Seconds later more fire and sparks erupted, like a lethal fireworks show.
"YEEEEEE-HAW!" Tombstone twisted his Phantom in a victory roll and continued north as Almirante Brion's anti-ship missiles cooked off.
"Bronco One to Eclipse."
"Eclipse. Go."
"Enemy frigate neutralized. I believe it is time to head back to the ranch."
XXXXX
Titanosaurus screeched and stomped around the remains of downtown. Godzilla loosened his jaws and let the arm fall from his mouth.
Titanosaurus continued to jump and stomp and wail. A full minute passed before he started to settle down as the nanobots worked to regrow the missing arm.
Godzilla reached out, grabbed Titanosaurus' head, and twisted it toward him. He then took hold of his foe's jaws and pulled them wide open. Titanosaurus struggled to break Godzilla's grasp. It proved futile.
The spines on Godzilla's back glowed blue. He opened his mouth. A stream of blue flame shot out. It went down Titanosaurus' throat, incinerating muscle tissue, organs and nanobots. The monster trembled as the atomic fire in him built up and built up until . . .
The explosion leveled everything within a half-mile radius. The blast flung Godzilla a mile through the air before he crashed onto a residential neighborhood.
It took a couple of minutes for him to recover. He got to his feet, shook his head and looked around.
Patches of blood and charred pieces of flesh were all that remained of Titanosaurus. As for the nanobots, without electrical impulses from the monster's brain to use as their power source, they soon ceased to function.
Godzilla straightened, sensing the special vibrations in the Earth, the ones that alerted him to grave threats and unimaginable evil.
They had calmed now. Earth was safe.
Godzilla let out a long, triumphant roar. He turned and lumbered east, to Galveston Bay, then to the Gulf of Mexico. His task was done. It was time to rest.
Until the next threat surfaced.
XXXXX
"You're sure about that?" Ruffin said into the satellite phone from the crowded deck of Scarlet Ibis.
"The Texas National Guard sent one of their WMD units into downtown Houston. All they could find were some burnt chunks of meat. Godzilla blew the hell out of Titanosaurus. It's dead, all the Simbaaku are dead. It's over, John. We did it."
"Yeah. We did it, Chief."
He lowered the phone and looked around at the mix of US paratroopers, Trinidadian soldiers and sailors and Shield International personnel.
"We did it!" Ruffin raised his arms over his head.
Everyone turned to him.
"That was Chief Briggs. Godzilla killed Titanosaurus. Blew his ass to pieces. We won!"
Cheers and applause broke out. The men high-fived and embraced one another. Just a few days ago, Ruffin had been standing in the ruins of Port of Spain, hearing how the President of the United States had surrendered to the Simbaaku.
But their desperate, near-suicidal plan had worked. It had been costly. My God, it had been costly. But because of the sacrifice of well over a hundred men, all of humanity had been saved from extinction.
John Ruffin didn't even try to stop the tears that poured from his eyes.
NEXT: THE CONCLUSION