Authors: Marc Cerasini
Unfortunately for Kip Daniels, his situation fell in the first category. If he took the job, it would be to escape his disturbing and chaotic life.
Kip was what social workers called a "troubled" teenager who came from a "stressed environment." A child of a broken home, Kip never knew his father, who was doing fifteen years in a Michigan correctional facility for forgery and grand larceny.
His mother was no better: A drug addict who dragged her son from the Midwest and then summarily dumped him into a rough city school system with the worst sort of punks and malcontents - despite the boy's phenomenal IQ and his amazing hand-to-eye coordination.
"If we draft this kid, we'd be doing him a favor," the general muttered aloud.
But the kid froze,
Taggart reminded himself.
And, anyway, the decision is Kip Daniels's to make, not mine.
The officer glanced at the BATTLEGROUND 2000 readout again.
Nearly a million and a half points in a single game.
The general whistled in amazement.
The kid's performance was phenomenal. The best so far.
Taggart knew that time was running out. If the scientists were right, Godzilla was still alive, and the monster could rise out of the sea and return at any moment.
Time was running out.
Monday, May 3, 1999, 1:15 P.M.
In the cockpit of Raptor-One
"Okay, you're clear to move in a little closer, Raptor-One," Air Combat Controller Lori Angelo radioed from the cockpit of Raptor-One's sister ship, Raptor-Two.
Kip Daniels monitored the air combat controller's - or "Air Cap's" - commands through the headphones in his flight helmet. His gloved hands gripped the stick of the weapons control system. His eyes were fixed on the view outside the cockpit windows, searching for the elusive target still ahead of them.
"Moving in," Pierce Dillard, the pilot of Raptor-One, announced. As he spoke, Pierce's eyes squinted with determination and he struggled with the joystick. The Raptor's controls seemed stiff, and he fought to maintain aircraft stability. The erratic and unpredictable updrafts from the huge buildings below were causing the problem.
No matter what he did, Pierce could not seem to tame the Raptor's violent shaking.
"The controls are sluggish," Pierce announced.
At the co-pilot's station, to the left and slightly below the pilot seat, Martin Wong scanned his HUD - head's-up display. The huge color monitor offered countless readouts, informing the copilot/flight engineer of the Raptors condition, inside and out.
"We have primary computer failure on the starboard tilt-engine motor," Martin announced calmly. Then he quickly punched up a program from the computer files.
"Backups coming on-line... now," he said.
The vibrations slowed, then all but ceased. The Raptor was moving smoothly once again.
"Raptor-One, watch out for those towers at your three o'clock," Tobias Nelson, the pilot of Raptor-Two, warned Pierce. Toby's deep, booming voice surprised Kip. Lori should have been the one to warn us, he thought. She's the combat controller.
Pierce eased back on his stick, and Raptor-One's advance through the steel, glass, and concrete canyons of downtown Chicago slowed. As the Raptor hovered at a virtual standstill over the city, gusts of wind continuously buffeted the aircraft.
Well
, Kip reasoned,
that is why they call it the Windy City.
The Raptor began to drift toward a round glass tower, and Pierce had to move the control stick to compensate.
* * *
Tobias Nelson, at the controls of Raptor-Two, also hovered in a stationary position, but he was far, far above the city, and Raptor-One. Raptor-Two's job was air combat control, and for that they needed a bird's-eye view of the battlefield.
"Raptor-One, move into attack position," Lori Angelo commanded from her combat control station in Two. "I want you to circle the Sears Tower..." Lori paused for effect. "That's the tall building on your left,
Dillard
."
Pierce's face remained stony as he listened to Lori's instructions. But the crews of both ships could hear Toby chuckling.
"After you pass the building, make a sharp right," Lori concluded. Pierce nodded, then clicked his mike to acknowledge her command. Cautiously, he moved the joystick forward, and to the left. The panoramic vista outside the cockpit Windshields tilted and changed as Raptor-One gracefully swept around the towering, glass-walled skyscraper. Chicago sprawled below them.
"Your target
should
be in sight," Lori cautioned.
"Roger, Air Cap, got it on screen," replied Tia Shimura from her station behind Martin. Tia was Raptor-One's navigation and communications officer, and the youngest member of the team.
Raising her eyes from the monitors, Tia gazed through the huge, cathedral-like windows of the cockpit. Like the rest of the Raptor-One crew, she wanted to be the first to lay eyes on the enemy.
As One sped past the Sears Tower, the aircraft dipped and then leveled off. Suddenly, their target appeared ahead of them - a black silhouette that stood out starkly against the cluttered, smog-bound city.
"I see him!" Pierce cried. He pushed the stick, and the Raptor surged ahead. The monster loomed larger in the windshield. So far, Godzilla seemed oblivious to their approach.
Even over the drone of the Raptor's engine, the crew could hear the echoing roar as Godzilla bellowed his rage at humanity. Kip watched in fascination as the creature moved slowly, ponderously through the city. As he walked, Godzilla waded through the structures at his feet, callously cutting a swath of destruction through the heart of Chicago's business district.
Thick clouds of black smoke and red fire billowed into the afternoon sky in the creature's wake. As they watched, an immense skyscraper tumbled to earth in a cloud of dust and smoke.
Despite himself, Kip gasped. He immediately regretted the outburst, and hoped that none of the others heard him.
"Quiet, Wizzo," Pierce rebuked him, using Air Force shorthand for "weapon systems officer." Kip's mouth snapped shut and his face burned with embarrassment. He was glad his station was far ahead of the others, at the very front of the Raptor's huge cockpit.
And
that his back was turned to his teammates.
"Prepare for final approach." The radio didn't mask the tension in Lori's voice.
"Moving in," Pierce replied coolly. The Raptor moved closer to the rampaging monster. Then Lori, from Two, cleared them for action.
"You may attack Godzilla at will, Raptor-One," she declared.
Kip's sweaty hands gripped the weapon's control stick. At his station in the very front of the cockpit, he felt totally alone and far removed from the rest of Raptor's crew.
But their lives depended on him, nonetheless. He looked up from his heads-up display, and through the windshield. Almost simultaneously, Godzilla's neck twisted, his feral head turned toward the aircraft.
The creature seemed to stare right at Kip, who immediately felt a surge of panic. Sweat trickled down his back under the olive-drab flight suit. "Prepare to relinquish control," Kip finally said, with much more confidence than he felt. His heart raced and he prepared to take over control of Raptor-One.
As the weapon systems officer, it was Kip's job to take complete command of the aircraft while they were in attack mode. He not only selected and fired a multitude of exotic weapons at Godzilla, but he also piloted the aircraft.
Being the "wizzo" was the hardest job in the cockpit... and a job everybody had fought for. Kip still didn't understand why he had been chosen. He was probably the only team member who didn't want the task.
Kip swallowed hard and focused on the mission.
"Weapons officer to take command of the aircraft at the count of three," he announced, his voice tight.
"Three. Two. One... mark!"
Pierce felt his control stick go slack. He loosened his grip and sat back in the pilot's chair. His job was done. He was just a passenger now. Dead weight.
I hate this part
, he thought. Pierce felt frustrated and helpless as the rookie moved the Raptor into attack position.
"Watch out for the buildings at three o'clock," Lori warned from Two. Kip slowed his lateral movement and moved forward again - still dangerously close to the skyscrapers on their right.
Martin and Pierce exchanged worried glances.
"You're too close to the buildings, Kip," Tia warned him. "And you're too low. Watch out for Godzilla's tail."
Kip eased the stick back, concentrating on his targeting computer, which was in the process of locking on to the monster.
Kip chose to lead the attack with cadmium missiles. He touched the appropriate keys on his pad. They opened the shielded missile bays on the Raptor's wings.
But Godzilla wasn't waiting for the Raptor to make the first move. The creature's eyes never left the oncoming aircraft. As the Raptor neared Godzilla, he became more agitated. The creature's lips curled and a low rumble erupted from his throat. Instinctively, the
kaiju
recognized One as a threat.
Suddenly, Godzilla's head reared back and his eyes narrowed. Blue electricity danced along his three rows of dorsal spines.
"He's going to fire his radioactive rays!" Lori cried from Raptor-Two. Godzilla was about to utilize his most terrible weapon - the powerful radioactive fire that originated in pockets of radioactivity in his chest and burst from his mouth.
Kip heard the warning, but he reacted a split second too late. Godzilla's maw yawned, and superheated blue rays spewed forth. The radioactive fire enveloped the Raptor's cockpit windshields, fuselage, and wing surfaces.
"Wing damage!" Martin announced, scanning the readouts. As he watched, two sets of warning lights flashed. Then the alarm klaxon announced that there was a fire on board the Raptor.
"The cadmium missiles are exploding in the missile bays!" Martin cried, his fingers flying across his keypad.
Damn!
Kip thought, instantly closing the missile bay blast shields, though he knew full well it was too late for that. Kip cursed himself.
I opened the missile bays too early
, he realized.
While Martin activated the emergency fire system, Tia handled damage control. Pierce reached out and gripped his control stick again, ready to wrest control of the aircraft away from Kip as soon as he could.
Meanwhile, Kip tried to move out of Godzilla's line of fire. But the torrent of radioactive breath kept on coming at them. Not even the Raptor, which was coated with the same material that protected the space shuttle from the heat of re-entry, could withstand this kind of punishment for long.
Kip quickly shifted to hover mode, then moved the Raptor backward and to the left.
Pierce tore his eyes away from Martin's damage assessment display and sneered openly when he realized what Kip was doing.
This had better work
, he thought bitterly.
Fortunately for Kip, it did.
The wizzo managed to slide the Raptor backward, then deftly moved the aircraft to the side, ducking behind the Sears Tower.
All the while, Godzilla focused his radioactive fire on the retreating aircraft. As the Raptor slipped behind the huge skyscraper and out of Godzilla's line of sight, the building took the full brunt of the monster's fiery fury.
As the crews of Raptor-One and Raptor-Two watched in amazement, the middle of the Sears Tower exploded outward, raining shattered steel beams and deadly glass shards down on the city below. Then one of the tallest buildings in the world lurched precariously and split in two. While fire and smoke engulfed the lower portion of the building, the upper half tilted to the right and plunged onto the smaller structures below.
"So much for keeping casualties down to a minimum," Martin muttered.
"Pull back, Daniels!" Pierce commanded, staring through the windshield. At the same time, both Toby's and Lori's voices cried out over the radio.
"Your aircraft is taking hits from ground fire!" Lori cried. But Kip couldn't make out Lori's frantic warnings among the other confused voices that screamed in his ears.
"Pilot taking over control of the aircraft," Pierce announced.
Immediately, Kip released control of the Raptor, and the aircraft began to ascend rapidly. Pierce, in a vain attempt to avoid the debris that was flying up from the destruction below, was taking Raptor-One higher.
But Kip had initiated the attack at a low altitude - too low, in fact. He'd exposed Raptor-One to Godzilla's chief weapon - his fiery breath - as well as residual damage from the fire and explosions rising up from the ground. The two mistakes combined, finally, to bring the mighty Raptor down.
More klaxons began to sound throughout the cockpit, spurring the crew on to more frantic action. Martin and Tia began reciting a litany of system failures - any one of which had the potential to shut down the Raptor for good.
Kip stared helplessly ahead, his eyes still locked on the rampaging creature called Godzilla.
I caused this
, he realized, a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.
I made mistakes, and I killed my friends!
Suddenly, the whole cockpit shook violently. Kip's teeth rattled as the Raptor seemed to shake itself apart around them. He expected to see fire sweep through the cockpit at any moment, even though he knew that was impossible.
"The starboard engine has exploded!" Martin cried. Kip didn't think he'd ever heard so much emotion in the young Asian-Americans voice before. Then Tia's frightened screams echoed throughout the cockpit.
With an abrupt lurch that made them all queasy, the cockpit tilted precariously to the left. The cityscape outside the windows tilted, too.
The buildings below seemed to reach up for them. Gravity pulled Kip to one side, wrenching him against his seat belts. He yanked his helmet off so he wouldn't have to listen to Tia's cries.
"Eject! Eject! Eject!" Pierce shouted so loud that Kip could hear him even without the radio.
Kip's hands reached behind his head and grasped the yellow-and-black-striped handles that activated his McDonnell-Douglas ACES II ejection seat.