Chapter 49: The Mole Rat.
Brock found himself cautiously leading a platoon of men through the abyss that was the tunnels of the hive. Only small flashlights on the tip of their weapons provided them with a source of light. But even with a full squad of men, they could only ever illuminate half of the tunnel at a time, leaving many dark patches for enemies to hide within. To compensate, the soldiers constantly panned the streams to plug the gaps.
To Brock's chagrin, Marcus was among the squad. He couldn't understand why Malik would ever allow him to act as a front-line soldier when he was clearly a pilot, but the Admiral just shrugged and said it would be good for members of G-Force to be cross-trained for those times of dire straits. In his opinion, agents with wider skillsets were more valuable. Brock had his own suspicions about Malek's motives, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. He had to accept that Marcus was among them and try to keep him from being a hinderance to the mission.
Surprisingly, Marcus had not gotten out of line yet. In fact, up to that point, he'd been quite useful in combat. Where some of the rawer recruits had faltered, Marcus stood his ground and set an example to the rest. He'd gotten dangerously close to their inhuman enemy a couple of times but fought with enough guts for the whole squad. Since the initial engagement, the rest of the boys were now fighting harder to try to match his prowess and courage.
Brock and his men were on a cleanup mission. The giant ants of Alamogordo had spread to several other locations in the United States. Since the new colonies were established in areas where there were no sources of radiation, the second wave of ants were smaller, but also much more aggressive towards people. They needed an ample amount of protein to feed their colonies, and human beings just so happened to be the most abundant natural resource available to them.
The newer colonies did not contain nearly as many ants as the original, but they were still dangerous. Well over two hundred people had already perished, and the military was called in to stamp them out. G-Force had grown considerably in strength since their last battle with the bugs. New Masers had been completed and put at their disposal along with a variety of other more conventional ground forces. They were now at a brigade's strength. A battle had taken place above the hive were the ants tried to put up resistance. But it was a big operation that had been launched to exterminate them. Along with Masers, tanks, and ground troops, fighters, bombers, and attack helicopters had been dispatched to soften the ants up ahead of the ground assault. What remained of the ants didn't stand a chance. A single shot from a Maser was enough to make the giant ants explode on contact.
After the firefight, what remained of the ant swarm retreated into their tunnels and were being hunted down one at a time by Brock and his men, along with a dozen other G-Force platoons which were clearing out different sections of the hive. The 'Big Bug Hunt' was nearly over. Brock's squad were approaching the lowest bowels of the nest.
"I think this is the last chamber we need to clear." Brock announced to his men.
"Are you positive?" One of the skittish privates asked.
"No, but I'm pretty damn sure." Brock replied tersely. "This smells a lot like the last egg chamber I was in. Hope it's the last one too. These damned bright lights in these dark tunnels are starting to get hard on my old eyes. Get the heavy artillery ready boys. I think we're about to meet the Queen-Mother herself."
"Sounds like a great party Sarge." One of the other privates chimed in sarcastically.
"Just be glad she won't be as big as the original." Brock eyeballed the belly aching Marine. "Sucking up all that radiation in the desert for as long as she did, she got to be ninety meters long by the time Godzilla killed her. We wouldn't even be able to scratch that bitch with the stuff we got here. Get ready with frag grenades. I want to put whatever is in there on the back foot before we step inside."
"Uuuuoootttt…" One of the soldiers in the back of the squad grunted. Everyone turned to see blood running down his mouth. An ant had crept up on them in the dark and stabbed its stinger into the man's back. Its poison was sinking in, but the puncture wound by itself was already enough to assure the soldier's demise.
"Sons of bitches!" Brock roared as he saw more ants emerging around them. They'd been drawn into an ambush. Giant ants were descending upon them from all sides. "Kill'em all!" Brock barked as he opened fire. The tunnel lit up with the chattering of his M-16 assault rifle which was set to full-auto. The weapon rattled in his hand and the stock pushed against his shoulder with each round he fired.
With targets now lit up for everyone to see, the whole squad went to work hammering out rounds as fast and furiously as they could. Suddenly, there was a whoosh of fire as Marcus unleashed his flamethrower. All of the attacking ants stopped to take notice. They had a universal fear of fire, and one of their brethren suddenly found itself entirely doused in flames and screaming in pain. It gave the rest pause. The brief respite gave the squad the opportunity they needed to get into ranks. They formed a circle to guard each other's backs.
Marcus, however, was still out on his own, holding three ants at bay all by himself. He was isolated and vulnerable. Brock could see an ant drop down from the ceiling and get in behind Marcus. He tried to shout to warn him, but Marcus couldn't hear Brock over the sounds of machine gun rounds echoing throughout the tunnel. Brock carefully aimed for the creature that was sneaking up on Marcus, but his gun suddenly jammed.
Marcus had sprayed down the three ants in front of him and was watching them burn when he was knocked down from behind. He suddenly felt a liquid running down his back. It smelled like gas. An ant was crunching its way through his pack. If he had not been wearing the heavy metal cylinder containing the napalm for his flamethrower, he'd already be crushed in the jaws of his attacker, but he was still in trouble, nevertheless. Marcus was sitting in a pool of gasoline and holding an open flame in his hands. If he tried to use his weapon at that point, he'd burn up right along with his attacker.
Suddenly, Brock came flying in with his thirteen-inch combat knife and plunged it into the head of the attacking ant. Brock hit the bug with all of the force he could muster and buried the knife all the way to the hilt. It entered the ant's brain and dropped the giant bug where it stood. Marcus was careful to slip out of the straps of his pack and left the weapon behind before it all went up.
Marcus took up the machine gun of their fallen comrade and rejoined the fight. He covered Brock as he retreated back into the platoon's ranks. Soon enough, it was all over. The ants were slain. The attack had been their last gamble by the Queen's royal guard to repel the intruders. With a number of grenades and a few bazooka rounds, the queen ant herself was killed, and her last surviving eggs were destroyed. The mission was over.
Afterwards, the platoon had to make the tedious ascent back to the surface. After such a hard fight, it wasn't something any of them were looking forward to doing. Brock started a conversation to pass the time.
"You were pretty well behaved today." He remarked to Marcus. "What gives?"
"I might not care much about what happens to myself, but I'm not willing to endanger my comrades." He replied. "If I go, I won't be taking anyone else with me. Especially not my friends. I've been a pretty lousy friend lately Brock. You're still important to me. I'm sorry."
"Oh…" Brock had not been expecting that response. He had no idea what to say at that point. Even if they weren't surrounded by other soldiers, Brock would have struggled to find a sensitive way to respond. He just left it as it was, silently walking the rest of the way to the surface.
With this most recent G-Force victory, two new ant nests had been wiped out in total. They should have felt good about it. But none of the men could escape the anxiety of thinking there could still be more out there waiting for them. Had they truly gotten them all this time?
…
In the underwater city of Mu, Samara was waiting with her mentor Esmer for word about the attack on Godzilla. The whole city was waiting with bated breath. The last contact Mu Central Command had with their attack fleet read: "We have engaged Godzilla..." Then nothing else followed. It had been over a day now and still no word.
Samara was waiting in one of the high towers near the edge of the city which had a great view of the Aulius transport ring. The circular structure was cold, lifeless, and idle. Too long had she been watching it do nothing. Samara looked over to the city itself, admiring its beauty. There was an elaborate tube system which connected the various buildings. At the center of everything was the Royal Palace. It housed not only the Empress, but also much of the nobility. The palace was covered in ornate statues which included golden lions, vestiges of old Mu heroes, and most prominently, statues of the city's guardian, Manda.
All around the palace were other large towers, smooth cylindrical monoliths rising out above the city. Most of the middle-class citizens lived in such places which dotted the metropolis. One particular building that really stood out in the city was the Temple of Reconciliation. It had a huge metallic hand which grasped straight up towards the surface. It symbolized the desire of every Mu citizen to one day return to the surface world. It personified hope for a better future. Perhaps one day they would be forgiven for the sins of their ancestors.
Other notable structures in the city were the expanded agricultural domes. As the capital grew, so did the need for more crops. Thus, more were constructed to mirror the original colony's bio-dome. There was also the Great Games Center, a place where the citizens of Mu could partake in the various state sports, which sometimes included bloodsports.
The most humble buildings in the city were the living quarters for the poor. They were easy to distinguish from the rest as they had the lowest stature out of everything. Generally in Mu society, the higher your station in life, the closer you lived to the surface. Thus, the poor lived right at the bottom of the sea.
Suddenly, the Aulius Ring came to life, catching Samara's attention. The ring wheeled around, rotating in place. A light formed in the center of the circle and spread out until the entire gateway was filled. A form materialized in the middle of the aperture. On one side of the ring there was nothing but sea water, but on the other, half of a ship had already slipped through the portal.
Samara sprang to her feet, putting her face right up next to the window to get the best view. Behind her, Esmer's response was much more measured. He quietly got to his feet and joined Samara. He could see one of the Angelfish destroyers limping away from the structure. It seemed to be on its own and damaged. Samara waited, hoping to see more ships emerge from the portal, but there were none. There was no captured Godzilla either.
It was at that point both of them knew something was amiss. Though in truth, it only confirmed Esmer's suspicions. Manda came to investigate the craft, but it was too badly damaged to transmit its friendly signal. To Manda, this ship was now an intruder, and he acted accordingly. It was crushed in his jaws before the crew could even alter course. A single life pod shot away from the craft before it imploded under the pressure of the depths. A lone survivor aboard the pod made it back to the city to tell the bloody tale of the doomed expedition. Godzilla had entirely wiped out their forces.
Word spread quickly, and it wasn't long before everybody in the military knew about the failed mission. Now there were two wounded guardian monsters, and an additional fleet lost. Empress Nimaria was furious. Mu could not replace those losses easily. A Black Shark Class Battleship took a full year to build. In the last six months, they had lost seven of them and double the number of escorts. There had been so many losses that their naval superiority was now at risk. If the other undersea Kingdoms became aware of their weakness, banded together, and rose up in rebellion, they could likely contest Mu's mastery of the seven seas.
The first thing the Empress needed to do was ensure that no one outside of the military or Central Command became aware of the most recent loss. The truth had to be suppressed to ensure their security. Information had to be treated as airtight as the city's own oxygen supply. Communications in and out of the capitol were severely limited and closely monitored. Travel permits to other cities were cancelled. Nobody was allowed to leave Mu's capitol. The Empress stopped just short of declaring martial law to avoid a panic.
Bostar wanted to be punished for his failure. It had been his idea to try to capture Godzilla. He would have been a hero if it succeeded, but unfortunately, it had failed magnificently. The dishonor was too much for him. He wished to perform a ritual suicide in public with a blade, but Empress Nimaria forbid it. She didn't want to draw any more attention to the disaster, and in her heart of hearts, she did not wish to see her treasured advisor come to such a terrible end. To satisfy his honor, Bostar was demoted from his position as Chief Advisor. He would retain his station in the council at the Empress's request though.
Bostar wasn't the only one touched by the failure. Malchius also came out looking bad. It was his forces which failed, though they had at least died honorably in the attempt. Malchius maintained his position in the military, but he did take a hit to his prestige and pride. Until the assault on Battra and Godzilla, his forces had not suffered any significant losses since he took command. Now they were seeing nothing but failure and defeat. His position was at risk, but that just made him more dangerous.
Phameas joined Samara and Esmer in their tower. The look on his face revealed that he had just gotten out of a long session with the council. As the head of Mu's Intelligence Branch, much of the responsibility for keeping the dire situation under wraps was going to fall on him, and it wasn't going to be an easy job. His department was going to be busy, but that wasn't what brought him to visit Esmer and Samara. He had another task that was just as important.
"As bad as the circumstances are here, I need the two of you elsewhere." Phameas informed them. "There is a situation developing that is just as important that I need trusted eyes on. I've gotten worrisome reports coming out of South America. I think the enemy is on the move there. There's no time to waste explaining it now. These data pads outline each of your mission's specifics. You can read them enroute to your destination. You two are my best agents. I know you will not let me down. Go now."
"Long live the Empire." Esmer saluted in the proper Mu fashion. Samara was quick to follow suit.
"Long live the Empire..." Phameas echoed Esmer, then watched as the two of them left.
…
Marcus and Brock arrived back at G-Force Headquarters in Nevada. They needed a bit of a rest after two days of intense combat. Brock was moping about, visibly a little sad that Mia was gone. He could only hope that she was safe in China and that her espionage mission was going well. Perhaps sensing that both Marcus and Brock could use a distraction, Reinhart approached them about going to a section of the base that neither of them had been to before. Both Reinhart and the engineer who'd been rescued from Dr. Who's artic base were at G-Force Headquarters to present Admiral Malek with a progress report on Mechani-Kong's repairs.
Reinhart brought Marcus and Brock to the manufacturing wing of the base where some new parts for the robot were being fabricated that had to be custom made. He showed them the plans. Reinhart was really excited. After a couple of weeks of working on the project, he was learning all sorts of new engineering tricks. Things that were beyond his base-level of experience. While he had been skeptical about the captured engineer at first, he turned out to be the genuine article. He knew everything about the Mechani-Kong robot, and they were making rapid progress with repairs. The Engineer's name was Wolfgang Klaus, and he was very excentric, but none the less, also quite brilliant.
"It's already that far along?!" Brock asked perplexed.
"Like our former organization's namesake, we improvise, innovate, and cultivate new technology. We strive to advance forward." Reinhart said proudly. "All we really had to do was reattach the head and then install a cockpit for a pilot. Not so difficult given a couple weeks to hammer it out. Most of our time has been dedicated to rerouting and adapting the control system. It's not so easy to convert a machine that is supposed to be radio controlled to a direct interface. The original apparatus carried an advanced artificial intelligence program which carried out verbal instructions. We did keep some of those systems in place to help with the fine motor controls, but overall, when this is all said and done, the pilot himself will have overall command and control of the mech. So long as we don't run into any hiccups, we could be operational within mere weeks. We're here to discuss how soon we'll be ready for an actual test-run demonstration."
Before Reinhart could go on or introduce Wolfgang to the others, Brock and Marcus were called for over the PA system. Admiral Malek wanted to see them. After they arrived at his office, it didn't take Admiral Malek long to get right to his point. He wanted Brock and Marcus to go on another mission south.
"I thought our policy going forward was to let Latin America deal with Godzilla on their own." Brock remarked impatiently.
"It's not Godzilla this time." Admiral Malik answered. "The problems are happening in Costa Rica. The President is concerned about this because of its proximity to the Panama Canal. I don't need to tell two ex-Navy boys just how important that traffic hub is to international trade, not to mention the impact it would have on transferring our own warships from the Pacific to the Atlantic should something happen to that key waterway. Shipping would have to divert all the way around the bottom of South America. The economic ramifications alone would be disastrous. We simply can't afford to take the risk."
"Swell." Brock noted aloofly. Marcus just sat and listened.
"I don't expect you to do any fighting." Admiral Malek assured them. "You're mostly just going to be down there to observe. Evaluate the threat for me. We're not sure what we are dealing with yet. You boys have got the most experience with monsters. This new organization is filled to the brim with rookies. I need someone who knows what they are doing out there. It'll probably be dangerous, but I'm sure you won't mind that much." He glanced over to Marcus. "We need to keep an eye on what's going on in our own backyard. You guys look like you could use a little sun anyways. So how about a vacation south of the border?"
"So, just the two of us against an unknown threat?" Brock grumbled.
"Not at all." Admiral Malik smirked. "Even now, we're moving assets of our own into the area, but in the meantime, the Government of Panama is offering their full cooperation. It's in their own best interest to do so, after all. I'll be flying you two out ahead of the fleet to get a sense of what is happening down there. For obvious reasons, Dr. Orsini and Ling will be joining you too."
…
Admiral Malek ended up sending Brock, Ling, Dr. Orsini, and Marcus to Costa Rica via a civilian commercial flight. It proved to be the most efficient method. During the trip, there was an in-flight movie which included a propaganda film about kaiju. It was a thinly veiled recruitment film to drive enlistment into G-Force. Marcus watched as the feature showed men in rubber suits smashing through miniature model cities. Aircraft on strings, remoted control tanks, and wooden warships all were there to oppose them. They were using fireworks to simulate artillery.
It looked a bit cheap, and yet, it was still somehow entertaining. Marcus could see the other passengers were enjoying it. This was as close as any of them had been to a real monster. Thus, they found it thrilling. If he hadn't seen the real thing up close himself, then Marcus too might have found some enjoyment in it. But even with the crude effects, it reminded him too much of the things he'd seen with his own eyes. Countless traumas. He found the whole thing distasteful and tried to block it out.
The film, however, was effective on the young men aboard the flight. It captured their imagination and made the prospect of fighting Kaiju seem romantic in a way. Something along the lines of an old timey knight facing down a dragon and rescuing a princess. Marcus assumed recruitment wouldn't prove difficult. The film made fighting monsters look so appealing. Every man in it was a hero with a perfect jaw line. Nobody got hurt or died. If those boys only knew how it really was though, they wouldn't be so eager to rush in. The film didn't show the price you pay. The friends and family lost, and the parts of yourself that quietly died away.
…
The group arrived in Costa Rica and were met by local officials. They were taken to the devastated rural area were the reports had come from. They saw the destruction firsthand. It reminded Marcus of the sort of trails Baragon would leave in his wake, but Baragon was last seen thousands of miles away in Central Asia, and according to the locals, human casualties were relatively light. It was their crops that had taken the brunt of the damage, and that simply wouldn't fit Baragon's pattern.
A Mothra larva might cause such extensive losses to crop yields, but not only were both of the known Mothra in their adult form, but their larvae were never known to travel underground. A Battra larva might, but he was also currently in his adult form, and he never showed much interest in vegetation either. No, they must be dealing with something new. Something that was fairly shy for a Kaiju. Nobody who had seen it was still alive to tell anybody about it.
"Baragon?" Brock asked Marcus. He was following Marcus' own thought process, only a few steps behind.
"Nope." Marcus answered bluntly. "I don't think so."
"What do you want to do?" Brock asked. "At the very least, Admiral Malek expects us to I.D. the threat. How do we go about doing that when it won't show itself?"
"Our target seems to have a sweet tooth." Marcus eyed a fallen sugarcane stock. "What is it they always say… You catch more flies with honey?"
…
Twenty-four hours later, with the cooperation of the Costa Rican Government, Marcus had constructed a crude lure. They chose a flat plain to the south nearby the coast which appeared to be in the path of the unknown entity. There, they erected four tall metal poles fifty meters apart from each other in a square pattern. Between them, a patchwork of linen sheets was hoisted up, spanning the distance. Finally, transport helicopters loaded up with pure granulated sugar dropped bundles into the makeshift net. Some of the sugar was blown over the confines of the sheets, but that was part of the plan. Marcus wanted a portion of it in the air and on the ground to draw their target.
After several loads were delivered, the sheets began to sag down towards the ground. That was the moment Marcus knew it was time to halt the operation. There was no sense in overloading the bait. It the poles or fabric gave out, it would ruin the plan. If the creature wanted to taste the sugar, it would have to come above ground and reveal itself to do so.
From the shadows of the jungle, a hooded figure watched the operation taking shape. It was Esmer. He was impressed by the ingenuity and simplicity of the trap. For the simple cost of a pile of sugar, the surface dwellers would be able to identify the danger that faced them. Whoever had thought it up was going to save Esmer the trouble of luring out the culprit himself. His mission was also to evaluate the nature of the threat. He just hoped it wasn't what Phameas thought it was. Otherwise, everyone in the valley, himself included, was in for a very nasty surprise.
…
After three hours of waiting, the unknown entity finally arrived. From there hiding spot amongst a rocky ridge, Marcus and the rest of the party watched as the events below played out. The metal poles shook, which resulted in some sugar spilling over the sides of the sheet, but they managed to stay upright despite what felt like an earthquake rumbling all around them. Costa Rican military officers got on their radios to report the events to their superiors.
After a minute, a sinkhole opened up about a hundred meters away from the trap, and a gargantuan worm emerged from the earth. It was indeed a new monster. Its body was long and segmented. The top half was blue, and the underside was tan. It had bristly armored spines protruding from its back which ran down the length of its body. The creature had ten tiny, hooked legs. It had five small yellow and orange eyes all lined up in a row on its brow, but its most prominent feature was its enormous mouth which was nearly as wide as its entire body when open, and it was filled with sharp teeth.
"El Gusano Gigante!" One of the Costa Rican officers exclaimed in horror.
Without wasting much time, the newly emerged creature made its way over to the sugar pile and slammed its head directly into it. The poles snapped and the giant sheet spilled to the ground. That was when the Costa Rican military sprang into action. Hidden units emerged from the jungle and fired on the giant worm.
American made jeeps with mounted fifty caliber machine guns charged in bravely to point blank range and unloaded on the monster. Tanks fired from further afar. It was difficult to say whether or not they were having much effect, but what was certain is how the monster replied. From his mouth, a noxious toxin emerged. The men in the jeeps dropped from their posts as the deadly cloud engulfed them.
From further away, the tanks continued their assault and were joined by jets which had been scrambled from nearby bases. The worm didn't have much of a defense against them, but their rockets also didn't seem to have much of an impact on the creature either. It seemed as though they were at a stalemate.
Before anyone could do much of anything else, the skirmish was interrupted by the arrival of one of the Mothras. She instantly dove down and scooped up El Gusano Gigante and began to carry him away from the battleground. The giant worm squirmed and attempted to use his toxic breath on Mothra, but between the beating of her wings and the constant strong air flow from their flight, the gas wasn't effective at all.
Mothra was much larger and stronger than El Gusano Gigante, and he didn't have the slightest chance of overpowering her. And even if he did, he had nowhere to go but down into the ocean. He gave up just as they were beginning to disappear out of sight. They were headed west into the Pacific.
"Looks like another future inmate for The Monster Islands." Brock noted with a smirk. "I guess we're done here then, eh?"
"Yeah, looks like it." Marcus shrugged.
…
As it turned out though, they were not done in Central America yet. Before Marcus, Brock, Dr. Orsini, and Ling could return to Nevada, there were more reports of unusual tremors coming from an island off the coast of Central America. The Island in question was further north by about four hundred miles. The closest mainland to it was Honduras. Admiral Malek wired orders for them to investigate there as well.
Nobody was happy about it. Brock in particular was fairly pissed off, but there was no choice. They had to go. If the second mission proved as easy as the first, then it wouldn't matter much. Ling and Dr. Orsini made the best of it, enjoying the tropical climate and seeing the trek through the jungles as an adventure, so long as they could return to the comforts of a relatively nice hotel at the end of the day.
After a flight to the coast of Honduras, the group rendezvoused with a small passenger ship which would take them out to the Island of Resortes de Plata. Isla Resortes de Plata was isolated and underpopulated. The topography there didn't make it a very desirable place to settle. At one point, the island had a thriving silver mining industry, but the natural resources there had given out decades earlier which led to an exodus of businesses and the people supporting them. Those who remained were the descendants of those who were either too poor to leave, or those who simply liked the quiet island life.
There was only one primary settlement on Isla Resortes de Plata. It hugged the old docking area where silver ore was shipped out for processing. Now it was just a hub for local fishing boats. Sometimes tourists would come out to the island to enjoy one of the last things that made the island truly special, the dormant volcano and the resulting hot springs from underground pockets of magma.
Pedro was a local fishman who was trying to improve his standing in the world. When fishing was bad, he would use his boat to ferry tourists to and from the island. One of the hot springs was located just adjacent to his property and he had built a rudimentary hut for tourists to rent. It wasn't the Ritz, but for the island, it was one of the nicest places you could stay. It was within walking distance of the beach and had a great view of the volcano too. Slowly, Pedro was making a tidy profit for himself.
One evening, Pedro went out to check on a couple from the mainland who were spending their honeymoon on the island. They were paying him extra to pamper them by bringing them food and drinks. Pedro didn't so much mind acting like a waiter. They were paying him particularly well and the wife was exceptionally attractive. That made waiting on her hand and foot pretty easy for Pedro.
To his pleasant surprise, the couple were at the hot spring and the wife was wearing a skimpy bikini. Pedro tried his best not to stare, but she didn't seem very modest, and her husband simply did not see Pedro as a threat. They were both pretty tipsy in any case, too drunk to much care who was looking at them.
"Buenos tardes!" Pedro greeted them, announcing his presence.
"Oh, hello Pedro!" The woman greeted him warmly.
"How are were doing out here?" Pedro asked politely. "Is there anything I can get you?"
"You know, I think we are doing just fine on our own." She replied with a devilish smirk, putting her arm around her husband. There was a subtle hint that Pedro might get a show if he stuck around for too much longer.
"Okay, you two have a nice evening then." Pedro excused himself.
"Oh!" Pedro heard the wife take a sharp breath in. He was half-tempted to look back around. Then she shrieked. Pedro stopped in his tracks and turned around to see both the husband and wife dashing out of the water. The lower half of their bodies were mildly burnt. Their skin was noticeably reddened.
"What the hell…?!" Pedro murmured as he stepped up to the edge of the pool. The water had grown so hot by that point that it was boiling. Pedro looked around confused, peering up at the volcano. It seemed quite inactive still. The husband and wife had joined him watching the water curiously.
By that time, the water was boiling so furiously that steam was rising up from it and scalding droplets were hitting their skin. They all retreated away from it for safety. There was a rumbling coming from the ground, and again, Pedro looked up to the volcano, worried about an eruption that wasn't happening. There had been tremors on and off again on the island for days, but nothing that was this intense.
Suddenly, a tree at the edge of Pedro's property caught fire spontaneously. It was very strange. Not least of all because the fire seemed to burst forth from the base of the tree, burning its way upwards. Then another tree caught fire, and then another. Within moments, a whole patch of tropical forest was burning, threatening to consume Pedro's entire property.
Pedro and the tourists retreated into town and yelled out warnings for anyone who would listen. Before long, everyone was aroused by the commotion. There was an even stronger rumble, followed by a crash, and Pedro looked back just in time to see a huge hunk of mountain disappear in a massive landslide. His property was engulfed in flames by then.
In the village, there was confusion, fear, and chaos. The fire was moving in their direction. It had become massive by that point and spread much quicker than should have been possible. The outer buildings of the village were aflame now. Pedro rallied his people and led them to the only safety he could think of. The docks. They needed to get as many people as possible onto boats. Anyone who couldn't fit could hopefully ride out the disaster in the surf.
As people boarded his boat, Pedro looked back to see the settlement awash in flames. No one who stayed behind could be alive. There was a vast wall of smoke rising up over the inferno. Pedro thought he could see something moving in the shadows behind the smoke, though it could have just been his eyes playing tricks on him. It was almost formless, like a dark phantom, though there was one notable feature he could make out. It had a sharp beak-like nose. Almost like a bird's.
…
By morning, there wasn't much of a town left to go back to. The people of Resortes de Plata had lost everything. The fires had scarred a large section of the island to the point where it was unrecognizable. Pedro started to ferry anyone with family on the mainland across the sea one boatload at a time. The fires had subsided, but the earthquakes and landslides had not. It was not safe for anyone to return to the settlement and try to pick up the pieces.
On his third trip of the day, another ship unexpectedly came to the island carrying curious visitors. They appeared to be military men from the United States, though their uniforms were a little strange. They wanted to talk to anyone who knew anything about what happened the night before. And they wanted to go onto the island itself to investigate. Pedro agreed to talk to them, so long as the large ship that brought them carried the last remnants of the other islanders back with them. As best as Pedro could tell, he was the person who'd seen the most during the incident. The husband-and-wife vacationers had left on the very first trip back to the mainland, so they wouldn't be of any help.
The strangers agreed to Pedro's terms, and he took them back onto the island to recount his story. There were four of them. Some type of naval officer, a big burly marine, a scientist, and an interpreter that they really didn't need because Pedro already spoke fairly good English.
The Americans were under the false impression from islanders who'd made it back to the mainland that the fire had been triggered by an earthquake which had caused flammable material to ignite, but Pedro was able to refute that claim as he had first-hand knowledge of what happened. Pedro told them what he saw, and the leader of the expedition went over to one of the trees to check it. He knelt down and dug under the soil line to confirm that the roots of the tree had indeed been burnt. It was a clever way to verify Pedro's claim. A normal fire certainly wouldn't do that. The scientist amongst them took a photo of the roots as evidence. The marine looked surprised that Pedro story was true.
The naval officer asked Pedro if fires were common on the island. When Pedro informed him that they were not, he didn't seem very surprised. Indeed, given the tropical environment and the plentiful rain, Pedro couldn't recall a single forest fire occurring on the island in his entire lifetime. The leader of the group just nodded and moved on to the next point of interest, the hot spring.
When they got there, the water was not boiling over like it had the night before. The naval officer was bold enough to put his hand into the water to test it out. He found it warm, but not hot enough to scold anybody. If it was volcanic activity which had super-heated the water, it wouldn't likely have subsided in just a few hours. The naval officer also peered up to the volcano to see that it wasn't even smoking. The scientist took photos of both for further documentation.
Finally, the group came to the site of the landslide. The displaced soil almost covered up the fact that the topography of the area was far different than it had been the night before. Pedro recognized it immediately. And oddly, the naval officer seemed to recognize it too. Something had burrowed underground, and it left a visible trail where the soil was now sunken in.
"It appears to be an oh so familiar story." The marine noted ominously to the rest of the group.
"Yep, this has to be the work of a Kaiju." The naval officer agreed.
"But I thought El Gusano Gigante was captured and relocated." The interpreter noted. "Is there possibly more than one?"
"It's possible, but this feels a whole lot different." The naval officer said. "I think something else is at work here."
"Marcus, I'm detecting something here that I shouldn't be." The scientist spoke up warily. He was using the wand of a Geiger counter to examine the edge of the trail. "There's radioactivity."
"Enough to be dangerous?" The naval officer asked concerned.
"No, it's just residual." The scientist replied. "But definitely more than there should be."
The group followed the trail which led them to a creek where some dead fish were floating on the surface. It was unclear if the radioactivity had killed them, or if the water there had also boiled over the night before. Across the creek, there was a gigantic hole where something appeared to have emerged from the ground. Whatever had passed through the area left a trail of destruction in its wake.
Nearby, the whole conversation was being recorded by a cloaked figure. It was Samara. The surface dwellers seemed to be on the same mission she was, and they were doing a great job of collecting intelligence for her.
'I've encountered this warrior before, but he has changed.' Samara thought, looking at the naval officer. 'He has such sad eyes now.'
Unfortunately for Samara, everything the surface dwellers had uncovered pointed to the worst-case scenario. What happened on the island was no accident or coincidence. The villagers had been intentionally driven out of their homes. Someone did not want them on the island. It had to be the Invaders. They were no doubt planning to use the island as a secret base and staging ground. No doubt, they were at that very moment underneath their feet, digging out tunnels below the surface to utilize for their dark purpose. They couldn't very well have any witnesses around while they were getting their base established. So they engineered a natural disaster to drive out the residents. The landslides had been sloppy. They couldn't have planned that. It was already drawing unwanted attention to them.
This was terrible news for Samara. It meant that Phameas was correct, and war was already at their doorstep. The only question was, which faction was behind this? Who was so bold as to make the first move? Whoever it was, hostilities would ensue between her people and them as soon as they were exposed. Their uninvited presence was a violation that could not be tolerated. The good news was that the Mu Empire wouldn't have to be concerned with internal politics anymore. This incident would ensure that all of their vassals and own internal factions would unite against a common foe.
Samara wanted to leave with the information she'd already acquired, but it wasn't enough. She knew that she had to confirm who the interlopers were before she could withdraw from the field. But how could she draw them out? She looked to the still investigating surface dwellers. If they stuck around long enough, poking their noses where it didn't belong, they'd likely provoke a response, and she could wait and watch safely from the shadows.
As it turned out, something far more provocative was already developing nearby. The trail of radioactivity had attracted something that demanded an immediate response. Godzilla had just risen from the ocean on the North side of the Island and was preparing to come ashore. Everyone on the island could hear an echo of his roar and instantly knew what it meant. They all stood there looking at each other, everyone more than a little frightened.
Before anyone could react, the earth shook, and the scientist's Giger counter response spiked. Then suddenly, the side of the nearby volcano crumbled to pieces as a giant monster crashed through it. But this was no ordinary monster. To the shock of everyone standing there, it was another robotic kaiju. Only it was bigger than Mechani-Kong. Whatever this machine was, it stood just as tall as Godzilla, making it around one hundred meters in height.
"What the hell is that thing?!" Brock broke the silence.
"I don't know… but run!" Marcus ordered. Ling, Dr. Orsini, and Brock immediately took off while Marcus took an extra moment to get a picture of the robot with Dr. Orsini's camera.
The machine was beginning to walk towards the beach where Godzilla had just landed. It was stiff and slow in its movements and there were odd mechanical noises with each step it took. The robot had a golden head with two peculiar silver antennae poking out the top. It had a prominent nose, or rather, an extended protruding drill that formed its nose. The feature gave the robot's face a very beak-like appearance. Almost as if it were trying to mimic a bird. The next most noticeable feature was an enormous silver buzzsaw sticking out of the machine's back. Between the nose drill and the buzzsaw, it was small wonder this machine was able to burrow so easily.
The body of the robot was very boxy and bulky in its proportions. It had overlapping layers of armored plating on its chest, abdomen, and thighs. The machine had stubby legs, which visibly limited its movements and speed. The lower legs and upper arms were painted in a soft metallic blue-green color. The feet and lower portion of the arms were both gold like the head. The robot had a pipe-like tail which didn't seem to serve much of a purpose other than to perhaps help balance out its weight. It had yellow circular eyes which suddenly flashed, catching Marcus off guard, reminding him that he needed to get a move on. The machine let out a roar, which drew Marcus' attention to a small transparent mouth flap that he might have otherwise overlooked in the design.
The robot didn't have arms in a traditional sense. Where it should have had hands, it instead had cone-shaped appendages with odd gaps in the center which gave the vague impression of fingers. Again, what purpose they served was unclear. The entire design was rather odd and alien.
Nearby, Samara was getting images of the robot herself using a pictograph recorder. She could capture every detail of what came next with it. Her superiors would no doubt want as much information about the enemy as possible. The fact that this machine was going to engage with one of the most powerful Kaiju on the planet would give Mu a very good sense of the enemy's capabilities. While it would undoubtedly be dangerous to document this encounter, it was also vital.
A sudden cascade of wind blew past Samara. She turned to see four men running by her on the trail. They had nearly crashed into her, but they had not seen Samara due to her chameleon cloak, which proved to be a near-perfect camouflage. Only in certain light would it give off a shimmer, betraying its user's position. Samara's face was showing through, but she had been turned away from the men when they went by, so they couldn't have seen her face. She was disappointed with herself for letting them get that close to her. She had been so distracted with the mechanical monster that she never even heard them coming.
Unfortunately, Samara had also forgotten that there was a fifth member of their party, and he was lagging behind the rest. Now that she was turned, her face was visible to him as he came thundering down the trail. He didn't notice Samara until he was nearly on top of her, and when he did, his eyes widened as he tried to stop. He looked terrified, as though he had seen a ghost. Before he could fully stop himself, the soldier collided with Samara and knocked her to the ground. The two of them went down in a heap together.
Samara instinctively used their momentum to throw the man up and over her as they tumbled backwards. She still hit the ground hard though. Samara was ticked off. She sprang to her feet and leveled a kick at the naval officer just as he stood up. Surprisingly, the man managed to block the blow which made Samara even more angry. She took great pride in her prowess in hand-to-hand combat, and this simple soldier was able to counter her.
Samara thought about running at that point, disappearing into the jungle and resuming her documentation of the impending fight, but her warrior vanity would not allow an opponent to claim the field of battle, even under these circumstances. She had to humble this man first. She threw a punch which connected, but the soldier took the hit well and stayed on his feet. Samara tried to sweep his leg, but he jumped back and out of the way. The soldier did not try to fight back, which also hurt her pride. She threw another kick, which the soldier caught. Though once he did, he had no idea what to do next. He couldn't bring himself to strike her.
Samara left her feet, using her free leg to kick at her opponent's head. The man let go of her other leg to dodge. Samara's foot came within inches of his chin, which would have likely knocked him out if it had connected. Samara couldn't tell if this soldier was extremely lucky or good. The last time she had fought him, he didn't seem to have a whole lot of self-defense skills. Either way, she was starting to get frustrated. Her dissatisfaction wasn't to last though. As a result of the battle taking place in the background, a coconut had been dislodged from a tree and hit Samara in the head. It struck her temple with just enough force to knock her unconscious.
Meanwhile, Godzilla and the giant robot were coming to grips. The bird-like machine used one of its most potent weapons. Blue bolts of energy emitted from its eyes in rapid pulses. They struck Godzilla's chest and neck with explosive results. Godzilla shrugged off the attack and responded in kind with his radioactive breath. His attack hit the robot in the shoulder. The metal frame of the machine was quite sturdy and held up to the punishment. The alloy glowed where the fire was concentrated, but did not melt or warp.
Unsatisfied with that outcome, Godzilla closed the distance to get into melee. The robot had one obvious design flaw: It was very top heavy. Much of its weight was carried above its center of gravity. Godzilla slammed into the robot's chassis, attempting to push it over, but the machine was surprisingly heavy and absorbed much of the blow. Godzilla didn't give up and pushed even harder until the robot finally started to tip, but then a rocket booster in its tail fired and kept it from teetering over at the last second.
Angered, Godzilla tried to bite into the robot's shoulder, but his teeth simply could not penetrate the metal armor. The machine countered Godzilla by lifting its right arm and then hammering down onto his left shoulder. The chop hit harder than Godzilla was expecting. It staggered him. The machine then used its left arm to stab into Godzilla's chest. Between the gap of the robot's rudimentary fingers, a band of electricity sparked to life. The gap in the limbs widened and allowed the naked current to make contact with Godzilla's skin, giving him a powerful jolt.
Godzilla was forced backwards, and the robot used the blue energy bolts from its eyes to attack once more. Coming forward again, the machine reached out with its right hand to try to zap Godzilla a second time. Godzilla, however, had no intention of letting that happen again. He ducked under the robot's arm and punched it in the mid-section. The robot stumbled backwards, but the metal frame wasn't even bent. The metal was proving very resilient to damage. The robot used its eye beams again, but Godzilla ducked and dodged out of the way. Godzilla countered with his own beam, which washed over the body of the robot. The machine gave off a cloud of steam, and the metal armor sizzled.
The robot advanced once more and the drill in its nose sprang to life with an unnerving sound. This caught Godzilla off guard and the machine plunged its nose into his neck, penetrating down into the muscle tissue. Godzilla punched with his left arm, knocking the robot away from him before it could do any more damage. Blood was already beginning to stream down onto his shoulder though.
Angered, Godzilla moved forward, using his tail to sweep around and behind the robot. This time, when Godzilla slammed into the machine, even the thruster in its tail could not keep it from crashing down to the ground. It collapsed and impacted onto the earth with a thunderous boom. Once on the ground, the machine had a very difficult time getting back up. Even without Godzilla there pummeling it, its clunky design would prevent it from getting upright again from a laying position. The robot had no hands to support it, and its stumpy legs didn't have enough leverage on their own to get the heavy metal frame upright again. Godzilla took advantage of the situation by stomping on the machine with his feet.
To ward off Godzilla's beatdown, the buzzsaw on the robot's back came to life. While still on its belly, the robot began to dig down into the dirt. Its drill beak began to spin again in unison with the buzzsaw, and the forked arms began to quickly displace soil. Within moments, the machine had disappeared underground. The earth shook as it moved through the terrain unseen.
The robot's thin buzzsaw breached to the surface like the fin of a shark and put itself on a collision course with Godzilla. The King of the Monsters moved to get out of the way, but the sawblade caught the edge of his shin, drawing more blood. The buzzsaw wheeled around and came at Godzilla a second time. Godzilla's back spines ignited as he built up a powerful attack. He used his beam to cut a gap in the soil ahead of his attacker. He made a gap big enough for the attacking robot to fall into, halting its momentum.
Godzilla unleashed a second volley of atomic breath as his opponent struggled to right itself. The machine gave off a huge cloud of steam as it got to its feet, and it was still glowing where Godzilla's ray hit it. The battle was testing the limits of its internal cooling systems. The robot always ran hot to begin with, but the extended use of its weapons and Godzilla's heat ray were exacerbating this issue. Godzilla's back plates glimmered as they started to absorb radiation the robot was giving off from being overtaxed.
Godzilla's neck wound began to visibly heal, as did his leg. His opponent's very own energy discharge was feeding him. Reenergized, Godzilla went on the attack again. He grabbed the robot's antenna and punched it in the eye. The antenna bent under the strain, and one of the internal energy-focusing mechanisms within the robot's eyes shattered from the blow.
The robot fell backwards out of control. The antenna was not just a decorative feature. The machine was remote controlled, and the receiver was directly connected to the antenna. Without it, the transmitter sending it orders couldn't properly direct the machine. A recall order was sent out and the robot once again disappeared underground. Only this time, it didn't come back. Godzilla had won.
In the nearby jungle, Marcus was carrying his unconscious attacker away from the fray. Now that the battle was over, he finally stopped to rest, exhausted. He put her down and tried to catch his breath. His face hurt from where she had punched him. For just a girl, she hit particularly hard.
Now that Marcus had saved her, the question was what to do with her next. He knew she was an agent of one of the underwater peoples. They weren't exactly friendly, and she was definitely dangerous, but if he took her back with him, he didn't want to even think about what Admiral Malek might do to get information out of her. Marcus simply couldn't stomach the thought. He wouldn't allow a woman to be tortured, even if they were an enemy.
'She's so young.' He thought sympathetically. 'Just a girl really.'
"Marcus!" A voice rang out. It was Brock. He was nearby and getting closer. Under pressure, Marcus made an impulsive decision. He found a nearby rockface which had a large inward groove. He took the girl and dragged her over to it to conceal her. She was still too exposed though. He needed to do more to cover her up to ensure she wasn't found. He frantically cut away from the jungle brush with his knife and methodically started to cover the opening of the rockface with leaves.
At that point, Samara started to come back around. She was a little out of it, but she could see the soldier working hard to conceal her. She didn't understand why he was doing it though. It made no sense to her. Marcus was too focused on what he was doing and didn't notice that she was awake and watching him. He got the last few branches in place just in time. Brock arrived on the scene looking for him.
"What are you doing?" Brock asked confused. All he could see was Marcus knelt over a rock and some brush. "Didn't you hear me calling you? What did you do to your face?" Brock saw that Marcus' eye was starting to swell up.
"I just fell trying to get away." Marcus said getting to his feet. "Sorry Brock, I must have hit my head, but I'm okay now." It was the only excuse he could come up with on short notice.
"Alright, fine." Brock answered, not fully believing him, but not having much other recourse but to go along with it. As long as Marcus wasn't trying to get himself killed again, whatever he was doing didn't really matter.
"Come on, the ship is waiting, let's get the hell out of here." Brock said with a sigh.
...
Thanks for the Reviews: TREBOR.E, Crabman, godzillafan1, and A Fellow Homie