Authors: Marc Cerasini
"I was down by the flight line when I heard the beeper go off," Kip whispered to Tia when he stepped up beside her. "I ran the whole way back, so this had better be
good!
"
The team members reached the command center together and took their assigned seats.
Standing in the front of the room and behind the raised podium was General Taggart. On his right, Colonel Krupp gazed at his watch, timing the team's response to the red alert.
On the opposite side of the general, Dr. Max Birchwood, Valkyrie's resident kaijuologist, paced back and forth, muttering through his ragged beard.
Everyone could see that the scientist was agitated, even though he usually acted pretty eccentric, anyway.
kaijuology was the youngest of the sciences, established with the return of Godzilla. Biology, biochemistry, microbiology, astrobiology, and a host of other scientific disciplines went into making one an expert in the field of kaijuology.
The few men and women who had trained in that area of expertise were highly imaginative, brilliant, and innovative.
They were pretty weird, too. And Dr. Birchwood was no exception. Kip wondered why the professor was present. He usually skipped test alerts and visits from prominent politicians.
His presence here today was a bad omen.
When the team members were all in their seats, the alarms died as suddenly as they began. Colonel Krupp looked up from his wristwatch and faced the recruits.
General Taggart scanned the assembled team with cold eyes.
"This is
not
a drill," he announced. "We've got a
kaiju
!"
Kip felt his heart skip a beat. Tia looked excited and worried at the same time. Lori looked stunned. Pierce's and Toby's frozen features never cracked, but excitement was evident behind their calm demeanor.
"Is it - is it Godzilla, sir?" Lori stammered.
The general shook his head. "Before you start asking a bunch of questions, here's Dr. Birchwood to brief you. Doctor..."
The scientist shook his head, as if to snap himself out of a trance. Then he stepped up to the podium.
"Could we have the pictures, please?" Dr. Birchwood said to a technician in the control booth. The lights dimmed and two large panels at the front of the room slid aside, to reveal a large-screen television monitor. The monitor came to life.
Pictures of the monster in the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico filled the screen. "This creature appeared less than two hours ago," Dr. Birchwood declared in a quiet, almost distracted voice. "An INN news team first captured footage of the
kaiju
during a routine satellite feed for a live broadcast."
The kaijuologist paused, checking his notes. "It was INN
Science Sunday
," he announced.
"Wow," Lori whispered with carefully measured sarcasm. "That's my favorite show!"
"Keep it down, Angelo!" Colonel Krupp barked.
Dr. Birchwood continued.
"The creature is amphibious, and appeared near the city of Merida on the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico... less than seven hundred nautical miles from the Florida coast."
Tia gasped. Toby looked suddenly grim. Even Lori became serious.
"While reports are still coming in, the Associated Press wire service has issued a story that claims that this creature can
fly
as well as swim."
Kip stared at the image of the rampaging monster on the television screen. Try as he might, he couldn't find any wings.
"Our initial estimations as to the size, shape, and nature of the creature are as follows..." The scientist looked down at scribbled notes he held in his hand.
"The creature is reptilian. There seems to be no radioactivity in the immediate vicinity of this beast, so it may not be a mutation. It measures approximately eighty to ninety meters in length - or 275 to 300 feet long. It stands about fifty meters high, and walks on all four legs, though it can rear up on its bind legs..."
He looked up from his notes once again. "We have not confirmed that the creature can fly - that sounds like mass hysteria to me - but, in any case, we are still processing information, and further reports should be forthcoming.
"I have contacted Dr. Kajiro Tanaka, the chief archivist of G-Force Japan," Birchwood informed them. "Dr. Tanaka is running a description of the monster and its behavior through his database right now. We may have an answer shortly."
The kaijuologist shuffled his feet, then turned around and looked up at the screen. "I guess that is all for now," he said, then left the podium.
General Taggart replaced Dr. Birchwood in front of the microphone. All eyes followed the scientist out the door as he hurried to his laboratory.
When the doctor was gone, General Taggart cleared his throat.
"I have spoken with the president," he announced. "The chief executive has mobilized this unit, and we are now on full alert."
Kip felt as if he was going to faint.
We're not ready!
he wanted to scream, but he bit his lip instead.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Taggart continued. "Project Valkyrie is over. G-Force USA is now
officially
a reality, by order of the president."
A stunned hush fell over the room. Suddenly, everything that G-Force had been working for had become a
reality
.
"I know you are not ready yet," Taggart added. "God knows I told the president as much. But he has every confidence in you, and so do I."
Pierce raised his hand. "Are we going to Mexico, sir?" he asked.
General Taggart hesitated before answering. "The president and the State Department are speaking with representatives of the Mexican government right now. Something should be worked out in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours."
"What about Raptor-One?" Toby asked.
"The president has spoken with the head of the defense company responsible for the outfitting of the aircraft," Taggart said with frustration in his voice. "Raptor-One is almost finished. We are promised delivery before the end of the month."
"So how are we going to Mexico?" Lori demanded. "By train?"
"Raptor-Two is ready to make the trip," Taggart announced, "if the Mexican government permits it. The Air Force has agreed to make a second CV-22 with some special modifications available to us, if we need it."
"We can't fight a monster with observation planes," Pierce blurted.
"No, we can't, Mr. Dillard," Taggart replied. "Our mission in Mexico,
should
we be permitted to go, will be as
observers
."
Pierce's mouth dropped open. At his side, Toby muttered. "What are we training for, then?"
"I know you are disappointed," General Taggart said to the two pilots. "But as I said, this team is not yet ready, and its primary weapon, Raptor-One, is not yet completed. Until I am confident that we have the proper training and the right equipment, this unit will remain on standby alert."
The general scanned the room again. "That is all," he barked. Then he strode out of the briefing room with Colonel Krupp in tow.
The G-Force team members filed out of the briefing room, each one lost in his or her own thoughts. As they headed back down the long corridor toward their quarters, Tia slid alongside Lori, who was rubbing her eyes and yawning.
"Are you all right?" Tia asked.
Lori nodded. "I'm just tired. I haven't been sleeping too good lately. All this excitement."
"Well, ladies," Colonel Krupp barked, "I guess we'll just have to wake you up!"
Nobody had heard the Air Force officer approach. It was as if Krupp came out of nowhere.
"Starting tomorrow morning at 0600, we begin advanced simulator training," the colonel announced with an evil little smile. There were moans and groans from the G-Force team.
Kip, who was even more disturbed than the rest, said nothing. Anxiety welled up inside him, and he groaned inwardly.
Not the simulators again...
Tuesday, May 25, 1999, 5:21 A.M.
Peaster's Farm
Osborne County, Kansas
Oswald Peaster sat up in his bed and threw off the blanket. He turned and checked on his wife, but she was still sound asleep and snoring gently. He remembered that she'd stayed up late the night before, making cakes for the church bake sale.
I'd better let her sleep
, he decided as he gently eased himself out of bed.
After pulling on his overalls in the dark bedroom, Oswald stumbled into the hallway and limped down the steps. As he walked to the kitchen, he rubbed his aching shoulder and knees the whole time. The arthritis in his joints was persistent now, and getting worse. It was especially bad in the mornings.
Oswald could never admit to his wife that he was suffering, however. As it was, Millie was making noises again about selling the farm.
"After all, you're not getting any younger," his wife had argued on Sunday afternoon while they drove home from church. It was not the first time she'd brought up the subject. Oswald shook his head as he fetched the coffee pot and filled it with water.
Millie just doesn't understand,
he thought sadly.
This land has been in my family for generations. This part of Kansas has always been known as Peaster's Farm... and it will stay Peaster's Farm for as long as I live and breathe.
Once again, Oswald Peaster regretted his eldest son's patriotic decision to join the Army. Instead of taking over the farm and carrying on the family tradition, First Lieutenant Michael Oswald Peaster had died on some forgotten, bloodstained jungle trail in Vietnam twenty-seven years before.
What a waste
, Oswald thought as he set up the coffee to brew.
Nearly thirty years and I'm still mourning him. It's a bad thing when a father outlives his son.
Oswald sighed and rubbed his shoulder again.
Neither of the Peaster girls wanted a life on the farm
, he thought.
Not that I blame them. Farm life is harder on women than it is on men.
Oswald thought about his two daughters. He realized he hadn't seen either of them in at least three months. He knew that Millie missed them both terribly.
Anna had married a grain dealer and lived in far-away Wichita. No children yet, but Millie was hopeful. Eleanor, still single, lived closer - she was a beautician in Russell.
Maybe we'll drive down and visit Ellie this Sunday
, Oswald thought with a smile.
Millie would sure like that.
Absentmindedly, he switched on the radio. Instead of the farm report, he found he was listening to the network news feed out of Alton. The news anchor was droning on in a flat voice.
"The creature that emerged from the Gulf of Mexico is still ravaging coastal cities on the Yucatan Peninsula. Yesterday, the monster destroyed the airport in the city of Merida. Elements of the Mexican Army and Air Force are converging on the area for a possible confrontation..."
Oswald noticed seven cakes lined up on the kitchen table. Five of them had chocolate icing. The other two were topped with vanilla.
A piece of cake would sure go good with my coffee
, he mused.
Oswald's mouth Watered, but he resisted the temptation. The cakes were for the bake sale. And anyway, his doctor had warned him off fatty food because his cholesterol level was too high.
What do they expect from an old man?
he wondered.
I'm seventy-two now - how much longer do they want me alive and paying taxes, anyway?
Finally, the coffee was done, and Oswald Peaster poured himself a steaming mugful. Then he sat down at the table and listened as the announcer droned on.
What time does Paul Harvey come on?
he wondered.
"In other news, it's just sixty-six days until doomsday, and according to a NASA spokesman, Operation EarthFirst is ahead of schedule. In just ten more days, the space shuttle
Discovery
will launch from Cape Canaveral, carrying a payload of nuclear weapons into Earth's orbit. These weapons will be fired at the approaching asteroids in the hope of destroying them. In a statement issued by -"
Oswald snorted and switched over to the farm report.
The end of the world
, he scoffed.
Pastor Bob has been predicting the end of time since Millie and I started going to his church.
It ain't happened yet, and I don't reckon it will happen this time, either...
Oswald took another sip of his coffee, still eyeing the freshly baked cakes spread out in front of him. But as he reached over to scoop up a fingerful of vanilla icing, the electricity suddenly went off.
"Damn," Oswald muttered.
Setting down his cup, Oswald heard his two hunting dogs barking. They sounded loud and frantic, even this far away from their kennel behind the barn.
Then the six cows in the barn joined the chorus. They began to moo in fear and panic. Even the passel of chickens Millie kept in the yard began to squawk. Then Oswald heard another sound, a faraway rumbling, like distant thunder.
"What the hell?" Oswald muttered cantankerously.
With a grunt, the old man rose and rushed to the back door. As a precaution, he pulled down his double-barreled shotgun from the rack on the wall. He cracked the shotgun open and loaded both barrels with buckshot.
"Ozzie... Ozzie... what's all the noise about?"
Oswald heard his wife call to him from the bedroom. Her voice was still thick with sleep. The old farmer ignored her call. He hefted his weapon and stepped out onto the back porch.
The morning sun had just risen, and dew still covered the flowers and grass. Everything appeared normal, but almost as soon as he stepped outside, Oswald heard the rumbling again.
No sign of a storm
, he thought, looking at the morning sky.
He stepped to the edge of the porch and stared off into the distance, where a copse of century-old oak trees stood. As Oswald watched, the branches on the trees began to sway and shake, though there was no wind.
Then he felt a stirring under his work boots. He took two steps backward as the ground under the old house began to quake like jelly.
In the barn, the cows grew even more fearful, and the dogs redoubled their frantic barking, which became shrill with fear.