Chapter 7: The Zao-Ming Conference.
And so, I found myself flying to China among Admiral Nimitz's entourage on a diplomatic mission I wasn't entirely certain I should be part of. As I sat, feeling the plane bob up and down in the air, I wondered what I was doing there. I would have been at more ease at my gun battery in the heat of battle than on that plane. I was completely out of my element. For starters, I had never flown before and it was a challenge for me to get used to. That might not have been so bad if I had someone to talk to as a distraction, but I was completely isolated. None of my friends were there. Joe and the rest were all still in the infirmary when we departed. I was worried about them, which only added to my anxiety.
I did have company on the plane, not that it was much of a relief. A squad of marines came with us as security escorts. They were a rough looking bunch, and it was clear that they had seen a lot of action before. They were not like the fresh recruits I had met on board the Enterprise. Despite not knowing many of the details of their present assignment, the marines were calm and collected. Each of them was a couple years older than me and carried themselves as though they were prepared for just about anything. I imagined they had some stories to tell.
The only problem was they didn't seem too interested in talking to me. That boiled down to the simple fact that I was a naval officer. The rivalry between the Navy and the Marines was still alive and well, and that alone was enough to brand me as a figure of contempt for them. There was a general air of tension on the plane, which made the long flight seem even longer than it was. The only real interaction I had with the marines the entire time was with their commander. His uniform read Sgt. Brock. I caught him looking at me once, seeming to study me, otherwise I was mostly ignored.
They weren't the only ones doing their best to make me feel unwelcome. Admiral Nimitz's aide, Lieutenant-Commander Williams, also didn't like the fact that a low-ranking officer like me was tagging along on the mission. Perhaps he saw me as some type of threat, but whatever the reason, he was very standoffish towards me and also ignored my existence for the most part.
Just as well. Even if Williams hadn't decided to hate my guts, he was still a ripe old prick anyway. In my short time in his company on the plane, he managed to give off an extreme air of arrogance. This was in part due to his higher rank, but also largely due to what I assumed was just his own natural personality and upbringing.
Williams struck me as a person from a snooty old East Coast family with a permanent stick up his ass. His accent gave the East Coast part away anyway. He was prim and proper with his nose up in the air. It's a wonder that the marines didn't roast and eat him the way he carried on. He outranked everyone, save the Admiral, who was too busy looking over his notes to care about the trivial matters unfolding around him. My only respite was the marines hated Lieutenant-Commander Williams to the core, which made me blend into the background. As the flight went on, I faded more and more off everyone's radar.
After what felt like an eternity on the plane, we finally arrived at the airfield of Zao-Ming, China. The landing was a little rough, but I didn't care, I just wanted out. I was the first to grab my gear and make for the exit. As the door opened, I felt the breeze hit my face like a cool kiss. I stepped out, and let the sunlight warm my skin. For the first time in many hours, I started to feel alive again. The plane had been like a tin can being slowly boiled over a stove. I was glad to have escaped it before it had finally popped from the pressure.
The rest of the guys followed me out and we looked around. The airfield was located just north of the town of Zao-Ming where the conference was to take place. I could see that there were already numerous planes parked around the airfield and decided that we were one of the last parties to arrive. Given the distance we had to fly, it was hardly surprising that we were last. Most everyone else had a head start on us. It was the Chinese's home turf and the Japanese had been occupying northern Chinese territories for years. Even the U.S. Army and Airforce had established a covert presence in China long ago. We had secretly been doing more than just supplying the Chinese in their war against the Japanese.
Not long after our arrival, a Chinese military truck pulled up. They greeted us and offered to take us to the village. We loaded up our baggage and climbed in. I ended up sitting next to a Chinese officer. He was one of the translators who was to help us overcome the language barrier during the conference. His name was Ling Yu. I came to find out he was quite a linguist. As he was the first person willing to engage me in conversation in about ten hours, I latched on to him like a drowning man to a life preserver during the drive. He didn't seem to mind much. In fact, if anything, he seemed to relish the chance to show off a bit, putting his English into practice.
Though he was only nineteen, Ling already spoke seven languages including English, French, German, Japanese, Russian, Dutch, and of course Chinese. Being that I only spoke one language myself, I was both embarrassed and awestruck by his talent. Ling's family were wealthy aristocrats, and they had the resources to nurture his natural talent. He was learning even more languages, currently duel-studying Spanish and Italian. Since joining the military, Ling had spent most of his career abroad trying to garner foreign support against the Japanese invasion of his homeland. I could feel his resentment towards the Japanese almost immediately, not that I blamed him. If they had invaded the States and done to us what they had done to the Chinese people, I undoubtably would have developed a strong hate for them myself.
We crossed a bridge that took us over a small river that separated the airstrip and the village. The bridge was built to be practical of course, but it was also assembled as a beautiful piece of architecture. I thought it looked at least a hundred-years-old at the time, though in retrospect, I very much doubt that it was. We soon entered the village itself and the buildings there were equally beautiful.
Having never left the States prior, I'd never seen the likes before. My narrow view of the world grew wider that day, and I was better for it. However, there was something troubling me, and it quickly became apparent what it was. As we saw more and more of the village, I realized it was semi-deserted. Only a handful of Chinese locals were present to be seen. It felt as though half the population was missing, and I was curious why such a large town was so quiet.
The truck brought us to the front of one of the nicer buildings near the center of town. I could see other delegations from the United States representing the Army and Airforce situated next to us. They were in equally impressive lodgings, along with some civilian representatives from the government. I was not much into politics at the time, so I didn't recognize anyone in particular, but there was a man with a nice suit who I assumed must have been a senator.
I had a passing thought about meeting the President of the United States himself at the conference, but then it occurred to me just how silly that was. They wouldn't expose a man of such high stature for this. No, everyone at the conference was someone who was expendable. The Admiral was probably the biggest VIP representing the States, but he was just one of many in the navy. If the man I saw was a senator, he probably wasn't a high ranking one. There was a golden rule in the military: Important people did not do field work. So, he must be like the rest of us, someone who could be easily replaced if it came down to it.
Pushing that thought aside, I could see the Japanese delegation was being put-up in their assigned housing across the street from us. It was far less impressive than ours. I asked Ling about it, and he told me that there was still a lot of anger towards the Japanese. Their invasion and occupation of China had been particularly brutal, and the Chinese people would not forget about it anytime soon. Though they were at peace now, their minuscule lodgings were just a passive-aggressive jab at the Japanese delegation to remind them of it.
Ling pointed out that the very reason so many of the houses were left unoccupied for us to use was the fact that many of the former residents were killed or displaced by the Japanese Army during the war. The Japanese had a well-earned reputation for being ruthless and merciless to captured combatants and civilians. It made me wonder what happened to the former owners of the house we were staying in. I tried not to linger on the thought too long though.
After helping us unpack and settle in, Ling had to report back to his superiors to let them know we had arrived. Alone again, I relaxed and tried to get comfortable. I lay in my new bed, just waiting. I didn't have anything to do until it was time for us to report in for the conference the next morning. I stared up at the ceiling and let my mind wander. I was just starting to feel a little drowsy, then suddenly, I became aware of a rumbling sound. It was growing louder and louder. Soon, it made the whole bed vibrate and I was alarmed. I rolled off the bed and sprang to my feet. I ran out my door and towards the entrance. Upon arriving, I looked out to see what was happening. The marines guarding the entrance were also alarmed and were no longer standing at attention.
Across the road, the Japanese were having a similar reaction. Their soldiers looked agitated. I could see them pointing down the street to the source of the disturbance. I peeked around the doorframe and saw a line of American-made Stuart tanks with Chinese markings on them rolling down the street towards us. There were about fifteen in-all. The whole column was quickly bearing down on us, and I wasn't sure what to think of that.
"Don't worry, they are only here for security." Ling said, walking up to us from the side. "There is no reason for your soldiers to get nervous." The marines stood at ease, but still looked upon the tanks with suspicion as they continued down the street. Meanwhile, the Japanese had retreated inside their lodging, eyeing the tanks wearily from the windows as they passed.
I looked over to Ling, who seemed to be enjoying the show. It was then I understood the true purpose of the tanks, or at least the intent of rolling them down the main street rather than along the outskirts. The Chinese had certainly brought them in for security, as they said, but the tanks were also meant to deliberately make the Japanese delegation anxious. Given that we had just signed an agreement not to sell the Chinese any more armor, this show of force was meant to make the Japanese question if we were honoring the deal.
However, if the Japanese were observant, they would see that the tanks were not the top-of-the-line units we were producing at the time. Stuarts were light tanks that were quickly being replaced by better models like the Sherman medium tank. It was clear to me that the Chinese were brandishing armor that had been sold to them prior to the arms agreement being signed. Even so, the spectacle had to be prodding at the Japanese delegation's patience.
"Do you think it's wise to provoke them?" I asked Ling, letting him know I understood the situation. "You just got peace with them after all."
"A fancy piece of paper won't make us forget what they did to us anytime soon, and it won't stop the Japanese should they decide to turn a lustful eye back to our lands." Ling noted plainly. "But no, I don't agree with the decision to pull this stunt. It is unwise to imagine a hungry tiger as your friend, but it is equally unwise to prod it with a stick."
The tanks continued past the Japanese-occupied buildings without incident and made their way to the perimeter of Zao-Ming, taking up defensive positions on the outskirts. Once they came to a rest, the village became calm again.
Given that I was already outside now, I decided to walk the streets and enjoy the Chinese architecture up close. Ling came along with me as a sort of guide. He told me more about the town as we went. We went past the Buddhist Temple and a towering Pagoda, both were impressive, resonating with Eastern culture. The southern part of town was speckled with small farms growing wheat.
Much of the village's remaining population was found there in the fields tending to the growing crops. There was a vibrant formation of rocks on a hill to the east of the village with swirls of natural color. With such an exquisite landscape, I cursed myself for not being an artist. It felt like God himself had a hand in such a perfect design. It was breathtaking. Hard to believe that there had been so much strife in the area so recently.
As we continued to walk, I saw a Chinese woman and her young son on the other side of the road. She was very attractive and wearing a majestic white cheongsam dress. Seeing her reminded me of how much I was missing Shauna. I had been writing her letters consistently, but it didn't compare to actually having her by my side. I must have stared at the Chinese woman for a bit too long because Ling started to talk to me about her.
"I can translate for you if you'd like to talk to her." He offered with a smile.
"Oh, gosh no." I said a little embarrassed. "It's just that, she's making me miss home. That's all."
"Ah... I see. You have a..." Ling paused as he looked for the right word. "...sweetheart waiting for you in your country. It's tough being apart, isn't it?"
"Very." I agreed with him. The young lady and her son passed by us.
Later that evening, Ling brought me to the bridge we had crossed earlier in the truck. The Chinese townsfolk had prepared some entertainment for the conference. On the airfield, they were putting on a fireworks show. In truth, the fireworks were originally meant to celebrate the end of the Sino-Japanese war, but it was lost on most of the guests. That fact might have been lost on me too if I had not met Ling. But the display could be two things at once without diminishing the effect of either. They were not mutually exclusive.
From our position on the bridge, the bright colors from the fireworks reflected off the water, enhancing their effect. The old bridge had built-in lamps that made the frame of it glow softly in the dark. Again, I found myself thinking about Shauna and wished she could be there to see it. The romance of the scene was wasted without her being there to enjoy it with me. I promised myself I'd write to her about it later. I tried to memorize every detail around me, hoping I could do it justice with just words.
When the show was over, Ling and I went our separate ways. I had learned enough exploring with him, to find my own way around the village, even in the dark. I came back to our temporary housing to find Sgt. Brock waiting for me, and he didn't look happy. It was to be the first time he'd ever spoken to me, and I guess he wanted to mark the occasion by making sure I'd never forget about it. Sadly, it had not occurred to me that I should have checked with him before exploring the town, and he meant to ensure I realized the error of my way. Brock marched up to me the moment he caught sight of me and let me have it.
"Well… well… our prodigal son has returned!" He barked at me sternly. "Next time you decide to go sightseeing son, you'd damned-well better run it past me first so I can send an escort with you. In case it wasn't abundantly clear, my job here is to make sure your little butt stays safe and secure on this trip, and you are fucking it up! I see you running around with your new slanty friend! If you want to go run around and play grab-ass sailor, I'm fine with it, but don't let the fact that he's being nice to you distract you from the fact that he's an agent from a foreign power, and don't take for granted that their interests line up with ours!" I could feel Brock's spit hit my face as he got right up next to me. "If it served them well to slit your throat, then you wouldn't be standing here right now!"
I tried to say something in my defense, but Brock was not having any of it. He continued to light me up.
"Hang tight navy boy, I'm only getting warmed up!" He warned me, continuing building up steam and turning red. "I'm about to give you an education on the world at large! Political alignments change quicker than the weather in the Midwest back home. It wasn't more than forty years ago that my grand pappy was fighting these little yellow bastards in the Boxer Rebellion. They would have happily cut you in half just for being an American on their soil back then. And that went for the Japs as well. They were on our side at the time, fighting side by side with us. So, if you are thinking we can just hold hands with the Chinese and be buddy-buddy, I got news for you: Wait long enough, and the tables will turn again. The only ones you can trust are our own."
Brock paused to take a big gulp of air, which I realized meant I was still in for even more of a verbal thrashing.
"In the meantime, don't turn your back on any of them, particularly the Japs!" He went on. "The fact that we are here, sitting around the campfire singing Kum-ba-ya with them, will end the second giant monsters stop stomping around this part of the world. None of these recent events change the fact that their government is being run by dangerously ambitious men. There's one thing your yellow friend got right, his stories about their casual brutality are all true. I've seen it firsthand. The Japanese wouldn't think twice about abducting your dumb ass if they thought you had information that would benefit them. They've got psychopathic fanatics in their employ who get hard just thinking of new ways of extracting information from prisoners. So, if you are going to insist on sightseeing around here, I'd strongly urge you to stay in public areas with lots of witnesses from all sides around." The vein on the side of Brock's neck looked like it was getting dangerously close to rupturing.
He was finally finished and walked away fuming. I stood there feeling like I had been ripped a new one by my father. I felt flushed and foolish. Though Sgt. Brock came off as a racist and an asshole, I knew what he said wasn't completely wrong. I had been very naive in my view of things. I had taken for granted that I was safe in Zao-Ming. There were still a lot of things I didn't understand about the world. I had been so taken in by the beauty around me, that I had forgotten there were also dangers. I also understood that part of the Sergeants anger was coming from his desire to protect our country, and me personally.
Such as it was, I had a hard time being angry with him about it. I retired to my room for the evening, not daring to show my face around the marines. The guard at the front door was already snickering at me as I came through the entrance. He had been well-within earshot of Sgt. Brock's rant, and by evening's end, I imagined the rest of them would be well versed in it too.
When I reached my room, I found that the Admiral had left a stack of papers on my bed to review. They were copies of the various reports on Baragon and Rodan. We were meant to talk about Baragon on the first day, so I dug into those first. I spend a couple hours carefully reading through them. The details of the reports read like excerpts from a horror novel. As brutal as it was, I thought it was important to understand exactly what we were dealing with, so I read everything. I might have missed something important if I skipped the unsavory portions of the transcripts.
By the time I got through the reports on Baragon, I didn't have enough time to get into the ones on Rodan. It didn't matter though. I'd have all of the next day to catch up on those. I turned in for the night.
The next day, the conference began at 0800 hours. It was held in a Chinese theater that was meant for stage plays, but it was the only building in town that could hope to accommodate all the people for the event. The conference was being run by a Chinese man who acted as the chairman for the committee. He stood at a podium set up center stage. On either side of him, were tables with the committee members representing the governments of the three primary delegations.
A film projector had been set up in the back of the room and a large white canvas was set up behind the curtains on stage to review footage when the time came. There were translators at the meeting for all sides. The seats in the theater were split into three sections: the Japanese on the right, the Chinese on the left, and us in the middle. Each section had one translator in their area to keep up with the speakers.
As I sat down, I saw that Ling was up on stage, off to the side of the committee members. He was being trusted to translate for the delegates on stage, a fact that spoke well for his skills. The other delegations filed in and took their seats. It didn't take long for everyone to settle down.
It soon became clear that the meeting was to be run in a fashion similar to parliamentary procedure. One person would have the floor and be allowed to talk at a time. That would make it easier for the translators to keep up and avoid confusion in general.
The meeting began with the chairman banging a gavel and calling for everyone's attention. He began to speak, welcoming everyone, and thanking us for coming. Next, he gave a speech which outlined what had brought us there. Promoting a sense of unity and common cause between the groups. He paused after every sentence, allowing Ling enough time to echo what he said in English for the US delegates and another translator to speak Japanese for the delegates on stage. Meanwhile, the fellow in our section did his best for us. Maybe it was just the timing, or something lost in translation, but the Chairman's speech came off a little stiff and dry. Still, he managed to get his points across, and that's what counted.
After his speech, the Chairman turned over the floor to a Japanese scientist, Professor Kyouichiro Kashiwagi. The professor began to outline his theory on why Anguirus, Baragon, and Rodan had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He had brought some colorful graphics to help illustrate his points. In the instances of Baragon and Rodan, he presented evidence that directly tied their appearances to the earthquake that had taken place in the mountains of Northern China some weeks back. His assistant put up a map, and he pointed out the epicenter and the sightings that came thereafter for each monster. It was not difficult to see a pattern emerge.
Professor Kashiwagi had gone as far as to investigate the area of the epicenter, and his team were able to locate what appeared to be a nest with a broken eggshell inside. Though a rockslide prevented them from fully combing the area, they were able to bring back samples to examine. They also had found the remains of what looked like giant insect husks. It was not clear at the time how they were connected, but it was a discovery that couldn't be ignored.
Professor Kashiwagi's theory centered on the thought that all these creatures had been either living, or hibernating, within the Earth's crust for millions of years. He put fourth that they'd been dormant since the age of the dinosaurs. The fact that each of the monsters were obviously reptilian in nature, did lend weight to his argument. There was no denying they looked like some sort of lost species of dinosaur. Professor Kashiwagi felt that the recent mass shifts in tectonic plates had allowed them to finally come to the surface. It seemed like a sound argument, but there were still dissenters who argued that there was no evidence in the fossil record to indicate any of these creatures had ever existed.
Dr. Kashiwagi's counterarguments were three-fold: One, it was possible we had not been looking in the right places. Second, given the overwhelming size of the creatures, anyone running across the remains might not recognize what they were seeing as fossils. Third, these creatures might not decay the same way normal animals do. Without having remains to examine, it would be impossible to determine for certain, but Kashiwagi felt as though there had to be something about their makeup that was radically different from most forms of life on Earth. Their sheer size was enough to set them apart from anything else on the planet, so who was to say.
By the time he was done speaking, Professor Kashiwagi raised about as many new questions as he had answered, but it was still interesting listening to him. No one else was able to present a more sound theory at the time. Where the monsters had come from was ultimately not the most pressing issue anyway. The committee was more interested in finding ways to deal with them.
The next portion of the conference consisted of a brief overview of all the attacks. The first speaker was an American naval officer from the battleship USS Arizona. He had been present for all the battles with Anguirus. He had some interesting insights. As he spoke, I had to relive some uncomfortable moments that we both seemed to share in common, but he didn't linger too long on Anguirus since the monster was no longer considered an active menace. At that point, Anguirus had been absent for months, so they moved on to a more pressing threat.
Baragon was next, and that's where things started to get interesting. I had noticed a pattern to his attacks in my notes from the night before. A Japanese Army officer presented on Baragon, and I was eagerly waiting to see if he was going to address what I had noticed.
The army officer brought out several witnesses who spoke about what they saw in the early attacks. While their experiences were certainly interesting to listen to, none of them brought any pertinent facts to the table that were helpful. When they were done, the Chairman announced that we were going to watch a film that had been recorded during the failed Japanese assault on Baragon. As they loaded up the film and prepared the stage, I was anxiously shifting around in my chair. Several speakers had come and gone, but none of them touched on what I discovered. Had no one else seen the pattern to Baragon's attacks?
I set my thoughts aside for the moment. The projector was ready, and they had turned the lights off to view the film. The movie had been shot from a hill overlooking a valley below. It started with Japanese tanks getting into formation and advancing into the valley. It was too misty to get a good look, which was disappointing. This was going to be the first time I had seen Baragon for myself and I hated waiting a second longer for it. The film went on in a somewhat dull fashion for a while. The camera just panned around in the mist aimlessly after the tanks had disappeared into it. Then a dim light appeared in the fog bank.
Before long, Japanese tanks came back into view, retreating headlong into their lines. Finally, Baragon appeared on screen pursuing them. The cameraman faltered, obviously frightened by what he saw. Reading reports was one thing, but seeing Baragon in action was quite another. I had seen Anguirus and Rodan up close and personal, but right from the start, I could see that Baragon was a different kind of beast altogether.
For starters, unlike Anguirus, he clearly did not like being shot at. He actively avoided taking hits. The speakers had mentioned they thought Baragon would be more vulnerable to conventional firepower, and I could see that they were right. The moment in the film when the artillery hit Baragon on the side, it was clear as day that the monster felt it and didn't care for it one bit.
The film's footage cut away about the time Baragon started to eat fallen soldiers, which reinforced the theory that most of his attacks were motivated by hunger. The Japanese army felt as though they might be able to lure Baragon into a trap using food as bait. I sat their stewing in my seat. Still, no one had touched on the other interesting thing I had noticed about Baragon.
I shifted in my chair and tried to get Admiral Nimitz's attention. I wanted to talk to him so he could bring my information to the committee. However, the Admiral was on the far side of my row. He was distracted, talking to an army officer on the other side of him. In my attempts to signal him, I instead drew the attention of the Chairman on stage as I flailed around.
"Young sailor, do you have something you wish to share?" I heard Ling call down to me on behalf of the Chairman. I froze like a teacher had called me out for trying to pass a note in class. Admiral Nimitz finally turned back and noticed me. I just looked at him in terror. He tilted his head towards the stage and urged me to speak for myself.
"I do." I stood up and felt every eye in the room narrow on me. "My name is Marcus Ryan. I'm a sailor on the USS Enterprise. I've been present during a number of these monster's rampages, and well, in reviewing the notes about Baragon's attacks, I noticed something curious."
"Have you now?" Ling translated for the chairman. He smiled down at me from the stage, seeming to enjoy watching me sweat.
"Yes." I answered. "Has anyone else noticed that Baragon hasn't ever attacked during the light of day?" I asked, posing the question broadly to the entire room.
"What are you talking about?" The Japanese officer who had presented on Baragon answered. "The battle we just watched in the film took place during the day and Baragon had been sitting in the open for days prior to the battle."
"That is true." I conceded. "But that's not what I mean. The reports I read indicate that on the day of the battle, and during the days preceding it, the weather was overcast. The sun had not actually been out at all over the course of those seventy-two hours. If you go back through the reports, and read the time of each incident, you will see the same pattern I have. Every instance of Baragon appearing occurred when the sun was absent. His attack on Beizhen was at night. The monster's following attacks on the surrounding villages all took place at night. When he hit the trainyard, it was just after sunset."
I suddenly realized I wasn't giving the translators enough time to keep up with me. I paused, hoping they'd be able to get across what I was saying and catch up.
"Baragon has always attacked in the dead of night, the early hours of the morning, dusk, or on overcast days. There's not a single instance recorded of him attacking during broad daylight." I tried to press the point home in case I had not been clear. I sat and waited for the translators to do their job.
When Ling had finished, the Chairman looked down and thumbed through his reports, closely examining the times. Other members of the committee and general audience members also started to ruffle through their paperwork to see for themselves.
"This could point to an aversion to sunlight, perhaps even a broad sensitivity to light in general." I proposed. "We've established that Baragon is subterranean, I wouldn't say it's a stretch to assume he's unaccustomed to dealing with light. We might just be able to exploit that as a vulnerability." I pointed out, feeling like I was being taken seriously by the room.
"He is right." The Chairman spoke for himself in English. One by one, everyone recognized what I said was true. "This young sailor might just have discovered something useful." The Chairman followed up in Chinese, being translated by Ling. "Do you have any other insights you wish to share with us?" He invited.
"I had one other thought sir." I answered. "If the plan is to lure Baragon into a trap with food, which I agree would work given his behavior, I would suggest doing so in an area with the rockiest soil possible so he cannot escape underground easily. He is very adept at digging through regular dirt, but if you could get him in a place where the terrain is rough enough, you might be able to pin him down for an airstrike to finally catch him."
"I was thinking the same thing." A Chinese General spoke up. I have already begun to scout potential sites for just such an operation if Baragon were to reappear within our borders. However, we would need some material support. We have the manpower, but not the armaments to ensure victory."
"The United States Army would be more than up to the task, and willing to support such an operation once certain arrangements are made." An American General in the middle section of the committee noted. "We'd have to secure the consent of our government first. But once that's done, men and materials could be placed in a week or so, depending on what location is selected."
"Alright gentlemen, I think that is good enough for today." The Chairman noted, pleased. "It sounds like we all have some phone calls and arrangements to see to." I move that we adjourn for the day and reconvene tomorrow to discuss what progress we have made towards this plan, and to address the other threat."
After the meeting adjourned, I left the hall and ran into Sgt. Brock guarding the door.
"Well, maybe you are worth babysitting after all." He noted. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, so I nodded to him and just kept walking.
After a quick meal, I returned to my room and started to review the material on Rodan. Sadly, it was not very enlightening. I hadn't learned anything new. The first report covered his attack on our own fleet, and given that I was present for that, I already knew more than enough about it.
The trouble was, Rodan's appearance was still so recent that there just was not a lot of data collected about him yet. The only other tactical report on Rodan was from the Japanese, and it was incomplete. Either they were holding something back or were still trying to organize their data. I reviewed the material I had, over and over again, but nothing strange was jumping out at me. Not like it had with Baragon's notes. I sat it aside and gave up for the evening.
The second day of the conference started much the same as the first. The committee read the minutes of the last meeting to ensure everyone remembered what had been discussed. The American general reported back to them that the government would indeed support the Chinese plan to ambush Baragon once they had determined a location. The Chinese general reported that his scouts were still investigating a suitable location. That was not surprising though.
In reality, the Chinese would not be able to pick a location in advance. They were going to have to wait until Baragon reappeared before narrowing down their choices. There wouldn't be any sense in choosing a site, taking the time and energy to build a trap, only for them monster to show up hundreds of miles away. No, they would have to be reactionary in this case.
Given that we were at a dead end until Baragon re-emerged, the Chairman moved on to the new business of the day. He began to read out the information on Rodan that was already in the reports, but given how short they were, it didn't take long.
The Chairman called for a Japanese pilot by the name of Akira Saegusa to join him on stage. I looked over and could see a young Japanese man rise from the ranks of their section of the theater. I had not seen his name mentioned in any of the notes, so it seemed to me that perhaps the gaps in the reports were about to get filled in.
Akira got to the podium and began to recount his story. He explained how his men came under attack after losing contact with their base. How they were picked off, one by one, by Rodan. And how, by the end of their encounter, they had lost eight aircraft, including his own plane. He explained that all of this had taken place in just the space of two minutes. Akira was trying hard to impress upon everyone just how outclassed they were, and how dangerous Rodan was in the sky. It seemed as though he knew something the committee at large did not. I got the feeling that he was trying to continue an argument the majority of us were unaware of.
As the meeting pressed on, I finally understood what Akira was getting at. The Japanese military was preparing to confront Rodan in an all-out air battle. Their intent was to form a major naval strike group with their aircraft carriers and fight Rodan on his own terms in the sky. Akira was trying to make them see how foolish that would be. He wanted them to realize that attacking Rodan with planes simply would not work. It was starting to make sense why the Japanese officers had omitted large sections of their report on the airfield attack.
It almost felt like it was a matter of national pride to the Japanese military higher-ups. They had absolute faith in their air force. And on some levels, that made sense. At the time, the Japanese arguably had the best air force in the world in terms of pilot skills and experience. They also arguably had the world's best fighter in the Zero. They felt as though Akira's group had only done so poorly due to the inexperience of Akira's trainees and the fact that Rodan had caught them by surprise.
Akira was trying to respectfully disagree with them, but the argument was quickly getting personal. One of Akira's superiors implied that he was a defeatist, and that it was due to his cowardice and lack of leadership that had led to their defeat. This triggered an uproar amongst the Japanese section of the room. Many of them came to the defense of Akira, who respected his opinion, while others agreed with his detractor.
Before long, the translators couldn't keep up with the argument between the two groups, but it was clearly getting nasty. I looked up to Ling, who just shrugged at me from the stage. Raised voices gave way to shouts, and the non-Japanese speaking sections just sat there in shock at the escalating ferocity of the argument. Officers on both sides clearly felt strongly about their opinion. Akira stood at the podium silently in shame.
I felt sympathy for Akira. He had been put in an impossible situation. Being forced to watch his comrades die one by one, while he could do little about it. If I had been in his position, I doubt I would have fared any better. All he wanted to do now is prevent other pilots from facing the same fate, and he was being berated and insulted for his trouble. Having seen Rodan in action myself, I felt Akira was probably right. No matter how many fighters you could throw at him, they could never hope to keep up with Rodan in the sky.
Finally, the Chairman pushed Akira aside and banged his gavel angrily, calling for order. When the Japanese section finally settled down, the Chairman moved that we take a break to let tempers cool.
We came back together a few hours later, and a Japanese Admiral took the floor in place of Akira. He outlined a plan for Japan to build a network of radar stations all across the home islands to track Rodan. They were also going to begin installing naval radar on board their capital ships. That way, they couldn't be caught completely off guard again.
They were planning to track Rodan to his nest. Once they were able to pinpoint his exact location, they would send in the majority of their carrier forces to attack him. That was exactly what Akira had been hoping to prevent. I looked over to him. He looked like a beaten dog, just sitting there in his chair looking grim. It seemed like this was going to be the plan, and there was to be no more discussion about it. The meeting dragged on for some time after that, but nothing much else of consequence was said.
…
The sun was setting, and I sat in my bed staring up at the ceiling, thinking. I was hoping that I would be hit by an epiphany about combating Rodan. The Japanese plan to throw raw force at him, seemed like it was doomed to fail. I sympathized with Akira. Having seen the monster up close from a cockpit, he probably knew what he was talking about. My own encounter with Rodan gave me some intuition about the various challenges the Japanese would be forced to overcome to prevail in a fight with him.
Rodan was just too fast to catch. The Japanese would only be able to engage him if the monster chose to fight. If he ran away, there was little they could do about it. If Rodan did choose to fight, it would be on his terms. He would be able to stay several steps ahead of his attackers. The only real hope the Japanese had, was if they were able to keep up constant pressure. If they could do that, then they might be able to tire Rodan out. But there was no way to know how long that would take. Even if they were able to pull that off, they were likely to lose dozens, if not hundreds, of aircraft in the process. As I lay there racking my brain over it, I began to become aware of a subtle rumble in the bedframe.
'Are the Chinese driving their damned tanks through the streets again?' I thought to myself annoyed. 'Isn't it getting a little late to be hassling the Japanese?' I rose from the bed, slipped on my shoes, and started walking towards the door. 'Don't they know everybody is already pretty agitated anyway?' The soft rumbling continued as I went down the hallway and to the front entrance. The marine guards were at their station, standing at attention. I looked around outside and saw no signs of the Chinese tanks. The rumbling continued just the same though.
"Where's that coming from?" I asked one of the marines. He didn't seem to know. The rumbling grew louder as we stood there. "I don't see anything..." I suddenly got a bad feeling in my gut and felt a cold sweat forming around my neck. "That is the Chinese tanks, right?" The marine only looked at me puzzled. The rumbling continued to get stronger.
'That can't be what I think it is...' I thought to myself, growing less confident second by second. Time felt like it was getting slower with each passing moment. Anxiety was building inside of my chest, and it was getting harder to breathe from the tightness. The rumbling grew into a tremor. The marine guard took hold of the doorframe to steady himself. I felt off-balance myself as the tremor grew even more intense.
The air raid siren from the airfield started going off, and I knew then that we were in serious trouble. The tremor finally grew strong enough to knock everyone off their feet. The words from my reports were coming to life. Men from buildings all around began pouring out to see what was going on. It was in this chaos of noise and scrambling shadows, that I heard the sound of the rockface on the nearby hill cracking in half. It was unnerving and unnatural. Everyone stopped in their tracks to look at it.
"Is it an earthquake?!" I heard someone shout.
What followed next was far worse than an earthquake. Soil and rock began to push up through the crack in the rockface from below. More and more displaced rocks and dirt rolled down the hill as something big was forcing its way towards the surface. Fire and embers began pouring out from the opening. It looked like a hellmouth was being torn into existence from the breached earth. A moment later, Baragon burst forth, throwing dust and debris high into the air.
Hunks of rock and silt hailed down into the roofs and streets of the village. Men standing in the road began to get pelted. Many were injured by falling rocks. One of the Japanese men on the other side of the street was struck in the head and fell dead into the dirt. His buddies tried to revive him, but it was far too late. Sgt. Brock and the Admiral came running out of the lodging behind me and we were all showered by smaller particulates.
"We need to evacuate." Admiral Nimitz ordered. "Get everyone to the airfield!"
We looked around and discovered that the Chinese trucks which had brought us there were gone. However, there were two jeeps parked just down the street. They had been used to shuttle VIPs around the village. No one else had claimed them, so we quickly decided to use them for ourselves. Brock rounded up the rest of the marines and we made for the jeeps. The admiral and half of the marines jumped into the first jeep, while Brock and I got into the other one with the remaining marines in the back.
The first jeep immediately sped off and turned around the corner towards the airfield. Our jeep, however, did not start when Brock turned the key. He tried a second time, but again, nothing happened.
"I don't believe this, I don't fucking believe this!" Brock cursed. "Why won't it start?!"
I jumped out and went around the front of the jeep with the intention of opening the hood to investigate. As I came around, I saw a large rock had slammed into the front of the grill of the vehicle and dented it inwardly by nearly a foot. No doubt, it had caused damage to the hardware within.
"Looks like we are hoofing it Sargent!" I shouted to Brock. He came around himself and saw the cause of our trouble. Brock kicked the jeep with his boot out of frustration. He knew what I knew. We had no other choice but to go on foot now. There was no more time to waste on anger. The other three marines piled out of the jeep, and together, we made our way through the streets of Zao-Ming to the airfield.
The monster, meanwhile, had made its way halfway to the village. The Chinese tanks were moving to intercept him, but the one that had been closest to Baragon was already a burning heap, smashed into scrap metal by his front paw.
In our haste to escape, we were not being careful of our surroundings. We were in a dead sprint. The marines were more used to running than I was, and they quickly got out ahead of me. Brock stayed close by my side though. Our group came upon an intersection, and down the boulevard, we could see Baragon beginning to enter the village. The first three marines immediately bolted. I started to follow them, but Brock was more cautious than that. He grabbed me by the collar and pulled me back. It wasn't a moment too soon. Two Chinese tanks happened to be coming up the street from the other side, and they opened fire at Baragon.
The shells from the main cannons went well-over the heads of the three marines in front of us, but the tanks also opened up with their machine guns. The three marines got cut to pieces in the crossfire. I heard a bullet fly by my head, and I felt the blood of the closest soldier hit my face as he got hit. In that moment, I realized I had only been a few steps away from death.
Brock kept a hold of my collar and urged me down the street with him away from Baragon. We went around the tanks to avoid wandering back into their field of fire. The tanks continued to advance towards Baragon, and he continued to close in on the village. Baragon crashed through the first building he came across and continued towards the heart of town.
Brock and I turned a corner around a building, starting our way down a new block of the village. A few seconds later, the night lit up behind us. The sounds of the tanks moving and firing their weapons stopped abruptly. I turned briefly and saw that the whole block behind us had been showered in flames. Brock stopped running too and looked back as if he were thinking. He pulled me towards the closest building and kicked in the door. We quickly rushed inside. It turned out to be a restaurant. Brock turned over one of the tables and we crouched down to hide behind it.
A number of tense moments passed while we waited their silently. The restaurant had large windows in the front. I sat there watching out, trying to catch my breath as quietly as possible. As we sat there, I became aware of other people hiding inside. They were mostly Japanese men. I recognized the pilot Akira from earlier in the day. He was ducked down behind the bar with a dozen other men.
I heard a noise coming from outside and looked back. It wasn't the monster though. It was the sound of a child crying. I crept towards the window to look. Just around the corner, I could see the child. It was the little boy I had seen the day before. He was just sitting in the middle of the street wailing. I had the urge to run out and get him, but I had doubts about moving into the open. I looked back at Brock, and he shook his head, no, to me. He understood exactly what I was thinking. I wanted to act but was afraid.
I was dying on the inside just watching. I knew it would be foolish to rush outside to get the boy, but I wanted to do it anyway. Just when I thought I couldn't stand it anymore, the child's mother arrived and scooped him up. I was relieved, he was going to be okay. Then there was a rumble. The roof above us trembled and dust began to fall from the rafters. I looked back to the street and Baragon had already arrived.
The mother screamed as both her and the child were snatched up mercilessly in the mouth of the monster. I sat there frozen in fear. I saw the whole terrible thing unfold. Tears started to form in the corners of my eyes. Brock kept his head though and pulled me back behind the table while the monster was still finishing with them.
I sat there traumatized by what I had just seen. I could hear Baragon's breathing just outside. His shadow blocked out the moonlight from the window. The building creaked from the monster encroaching on its foundation. Finally, the pressure was too much for some of the Japanese men. Four of them bolted out of the back door and ran for it.
Baragon immediately sensed the movement and went after them. Light began to shine through the window again as he moved around the building. Baragon cut the corner too tightly though, and his foot crashed through the ceiling, crushing a section of the roof and anything below it.
Brock saw an opportunity to run while Baragon was distracted and took full advantage of it. He pulled me to my feet and urged me out of the restaurant. If we were to have any chance of escape, we needed to get to the airfield as soon as possible. I was still in a daze, but I could hear distinctly bad noises coming from behind us as we ran. The four Japanese men who had fled didn't get very far. The rest of the men hiding in the restaurant elected to follow us. Dust a debris were still thick in the air of the village. Brock almost took a wrong turn in the chaos and poor visibility. But having wandered the streets previously, I pointed him back in the right direction after recognizing a landmark.
We ran and ran until we got to the bridge. We were very happy to see that it was still intact. Once we were at the top, we could also see that there were still planes on the airfield, but they were all lining up to take off. It was clear that we didn't have much more time. Luck, however, was not on our side. Baragon had spotted us at the top of the bridge and was already on his way towards us.
Brock and I continued to run towards the airfield, but it was still so far away. My body was aching, and I was nearly out of breath. Still, we couldn't afford to stop, not even for a second. I looked back, and Baragon had gotten closer. He was nearly at the bridge. Baragon was getting so close I could feel his big steps closing in on us. Some of the Japanese men had fallen behind. They were about a hundred yards behind us when I heard their screams. Baragon had caught them. I didn't look back to watch, but I could imagine the horrors happening behind me. As exhausted as I was, the thought of the same thing happening to me kept me motivated enough to press onward. The men dying behind us bought us enough time to reach the airfield.
We were already too late though. They were leaving without us. Only Admiral Nimitz's plane remained, and it was poised to take off on the opposite side of the runway. They must have thought we were dead. I wouldn't have blamed them even if they knew differently. Baragon was pressing in on the airfield behind us. If they didn't leave that very second, nobody was going to get out alive.
Unfortunately, the monster had arrived and was moving right for the aircraft. The Admiral's plane was the biggest and most obvious target around. There was nothing to stop Baragon from pouncing on the aircraft once the plane started down the airstrip. The monster seemed to have lost interest in Brock and me for the time being.
It was in that dire moment that I saw a spotlight nearby and got a bright idea. I grabbed Brock and told him to help me. Baragon was slowly advancing on the plane, seeming to understand that he had it cornered. He was also getting closer and closer to Brock and me in the process. The two of us quickly positioned the spotlight and turned it on. The powerful beam poured onto Baragon's face, directly into his eyes and flooding his vision. He reacted almost instantly. He folded his ears over his eyes and thrashed about blindly. My plan had attained the desired effect.
Baragon stumbled and took a few blind steps forward, wandering off of the airstrip. The pilot inside Admiral Nimitz's plane wasted no time taking advantage of the situation. The plane instantly sprang forward and sped down the runway. I could see the Admiral himself looking out the window at us as they passed by. The aircraft managed to slide by Baragon and get off the ground.
Brock and I kept the spotlight on Baragon, following him wherever he went. The monster had stumbled even closer to us, and though he still couldn't see, his instincts told him where the source of his torment was coming from. Baragon's head began to rear back and every fiber in my body told me to run.
Brock and I dashed away, escaping just in the nick of time. We could both feel the intense heat from Baragon's breath attack. We had managed to escape being engulfed by the flames but could feel the skin on the back of our necks burning from the fireball. We saw some of the Japanese men from earlier taking shelter in the airport terminal across the runway and we decided to follow them there. It seemed like the best place to hide.
It didn't take long for the spotlight to flicker out as Baragon's flames consumed it. With the light finally gone, he opened his eyes again. Baragon was in a stupor, no doubt his vision was still impaired. However, his ears flickered this way and that, searching for sound. He picked up what he was looking for in our direction. We saw him heading our way as we slipped inside the building.
The terminal had glass sections built into the ceiling so people could watch planes take off and land. Through those windows, we could see Baragon bearing down on the building. His sharp ugly eye peered down looking for prey. Though I was hidden under the terminal's check-in counter, I was able to look up and see it from a crack. I thought Baragon's eye was staring right at me, intent on seeking me out in particular for revenge.
I felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest, it was beating so fast. I realized that we were trapped. There was nowhere else to run, nowhere else to hide, and no other way to escape. At any moment, Baragon was going to rip open the roof of the building and devour us. I could hear the monster's breath pressing against the walls of the building as it was trying to sniff us out. I had to make peace with the fact that we were going to die there, even though I desperately wanted to live.
I knew I only had a few precious moments left. My mind was racing on how to best spend them. I felt so much regret. I wanted to tell my mother I was sorry for getting myself into this mess against her wishes. I wanted to tell Shauna how very sorry I was to leave her this way; to tell her about all the things I wanted to do with her, but there was no hope for that. I shed a silent tear and settled on just a prayer, accepting this was the end of my life. I didn't know what would come next, but I accepted that I had no say in the matter anymore.
I didn't know it, but outside, the remaining Chinese tanks had linked up and were charging Baragon. The first couple of shots hit him on the side of his belly and got his attention. As he turned to face the tanks, his tail slammed into the building and collapsed it all around us. I heard the wood structure give way under the stress. There were screams from other men as debris poured down on us. Wood planks fell on top of my hiding place, and I was pinned underneath the wreckage of the building as I blacked out.