Kaiju Apocalypse (3 page)

West was no scientist but he knew enough to understand the Overmind theory.  It assumed that there was something out there that humanity hadn't encountered yet.  Something that telepathically linked all the Kaiju into a sort of unified hive mind.  Doctor Bach and Minister Yeltsin had to be gambling that taking out whatever that controlling force was would at best stop the Kaiju in their tracks or at worst shatter their unity, leaving each Kaiju a mindless drone with no focus, West reasoned.  If they were correct, it would be a decisive victory for mankind.  And if such a thing existed, West didn't want to think about the great lengths the Kaiju would go to in order to guard it and keep it safe. 

“You will not be issued standard Dogkiller armor for this op,” Yeltsin told them.  A huge section of wall slid open behind where the Minister stood.  West's eyes grew wide as he found himself staring at twenty-four suits of armor which were unlike anything he had ever seen. They were obviously Dogkiller suits, but were sleeker and taller than anything West had worn before. They bristled with armament and were painted a matte black, which seemed to absorb the light in the large room. He couldn’t wait to get inside and see what sort of wizardry the computer geeks had come up with to complement the exterior look. “Gentlemen and Ladies,” Yeltsin continued, “allow me to introduce you to the Dogkiller Mark II.  It has a new, faster, more balanced synaptic interface that doubles each suit's reaction time. The armor of the suits themselves is composed of an experimental alloy called Xantranium which offers a far greater protection against the acidic nature of Kaiju blood as well as producing less exterior heat than anything we’ve previously managed.  The old standard issue Mag Cannons for the Mark Ones have been upgraded as well.  The new Mag Cannons, built specifically for the Mark II suits, now contain an internal, revolving 105 caliber chamber.  This chamber allows each cannon to carry an additional five rounds.  The Mark II's superior strength enhancement and balance alignment augmentation more than compensate for the additional weight of the rounds in combat.  The Mark II Dogkiller armor is also the fastest combat suit ever designed.  It can sprint for short periods in excess of sixty miles per hours before needing to give its cooling systems a chance to do their job, and can sustain a constant speed of forty miles per hour for as long as your fuel holds out.”

West stared at the Mark II suits in awe.  They were a grunt's wet dream in terms of firepower and speed, if what Minister Yeltsin said was true. 

“Their overall controls are identical to the Mark I suits so adjusting to their use shouldn't be a problem.  At any rate, there is no time to run sims in them.  It's learn as you go, I'm afraid. I have faith in each of you that you will be able to manage this, or you wouldn't be here.  Your squads are the best Lemura has available.  I expect success, ladies and gentlemen, for if you fail, Lemura will surely fall with you,” Yeltsin finished.  “Godspeed, and may He have mercy upon us all.”

“Atten-
hut!
”

West snapped to attention, excited, determination coursing through his veins. The men and women in the Dogkiller squads had waited for this moment for a long time. This would be their best shot at truly hurting the Kaiju, to avenge every single loved one and comrade they had lost over the years.  It was a defining moment, and West couldn’t wait for his chance to bring the pain.

“Fall out and get fitted into your suits! Squad leaders, get your people to docking bay four by 0800!”

As the squads moved to suit up in their armor, West noticed Cathe Smith amongst the members of the other squads.  He did a double take as he saw the rank bars of a squad leader on the sleeve of her uniform.  It had been some time since the two of them had spoken.  After their break-up, West had given her a wide berth, hoping that eventually she'd cool down and they could be friends again, maybe even more.  It hadn't happened yet, and he was beginning to doubt that it ever would.

Smith belonged to Alpha Squad, so she wouldn't be aboard the Trident that Gamma and Zeta Squads were assigned to.  He supposed that was a good thing.  He knew she was professional enough not to let whatever feelings she continued to harbor towards him interfere with the mission but when the squads linked up again wherever they were all headed to, there would be no escaping her. 

****

Staff Sergeant Smith suited up, testing out the controls of her new Mark II Dogkiller suit.  She clenched and unclenched her left fist as the thick, servo powered armor covering it responded to her neural input.  Smith, like every other man and women selected for the upcoming mission, was a longtime veteran of the war against the Kaiju.  She was young, a mere twenty two, but the last four years of her life had been spent mostly inside armor and on the front against the Kaiju.

Her body count was staggering, a number that was usually associated with tactical nuclear strikes. She was a lethal machine on the field, moving with an ease and grace that had left many in awe of her skills. Behind her back, some whispered that she wasn’t really human, but a last-ditch genetic experiment by the old Federal Republic of Germany to fight against the Kaiju which had risen from the depths of the Baltic Sea before that country, and all others nearby, were systematically wiped from existence. The rumors had also led to her nickname:
Volksrächer
.

West's presence among the twenty-four soldiers deploying had not escaped her notice. Upon seeing Ryan, her guts twisted and went cold.  Their relationship had been the rough and tumble sort that combat soldiers often filled the void between ops with.  Yet, with West, she admitted to herself, she opened up.  The geeky combat tech might be sloppy in the bedroom, but there was something about him, a childlike sense of wonder and a wide-eyed excitement that she had found infectious.  As dark and terrible as the world had become with the Kaiju war, somehow West still found a way to see the beauty around him.  No matter how much he pretended otherwise, the man was a romantic at heart.  She often thought that if she had chased him a bit harder, maybe made a little more effort, their relationship could have grown into something beyond anything she had known before.  However, the war, as it always did, messed everything up.  West was reassigned to Gamma Squad when a Dog Kaiju shredded that squad's tech.  Smith could have requested a transfer and followed him, but she was next in line for command of Alpha Squad. Alpha, being the best of the best, was the squad to be in. Her ego wouldn't let her abandon the need to prove she was the best, too.

Therefore, she had made a choice. Sometimes, though, she found herself wondering if it had been the correct one.

“All right troopers,” she ordered her squad, having adjusted as well as she could to the new Mark II systems, “Haul some tail.”

Alpha Squad, with Beta right behind them stomped up the ramp into the Trident that was waiting for them.  Members of the squads secured themselves in the Trident's bay and got ready for takeoff.  The squad would be making this flight inside their new armor.  It would give them more time to piddle around with the internal controls and systems of the new suits before things dropped in the pot.  If there really were such a thing as an Overmind controlling the Kaiju, it would surely be heavily defended.  There might not be time to suit up once they arrived.

Smith settled in for the flight.  Resting her head against the internal brace of her suit, she closed her eyes.  They would have plenty of time to worry about the Kaiju they would be going up against when they were actually in the field. Right now, though, there was nothing to do but get better acquainted with her Mark II or sleep.  Even through her suit and the Trident's hull, she could hear the ship's massive engines roar to life and the explosive force of its launch as it left Lemura behind.

****

Minister Yeltsin stood on the balcony of command observation tower and watched the two Tridents take flight.  They streaked away from Lemura into the night like blazing rockets targeted at a distant enemy.  When the two ships were over the horizon, he turned, walking back inside the tower.  It was only by the grace of God that Governor Lanstum gave him the green light for the op.  Risking four squad’s worth of troopers, no matter how good they were, was nothing.  It was getting Lanstum to crack open the Mark II Dogkiller project and to allow all twenty-four of the costly prototype suits to leave Lemura that had been the miracle, that and the use of the Tridents. 

As he entered the command center proper, it was a sea of chaos.  Tech and comm personnel hurried about in their preparations for the battle to come.  The long-range oceanic sensor array had picked up movement in the waters to the east.  Not just the normal passing of Kaiju raiding parties, but something much more worrisome.  The Kaiju appeared to be massing several miles off Lemura's coast. No Mother Kaiju had been detected as yet, but the number of lesser ones grew with each passing hour.  His staff's best guess approximated the Dog Kaiju's numbers to be in the thousands already.  Only a fool could look at the data at hand and see anything other than an army amassing for an assault.  It would take far more than a few thousand Kaiju of the smaller variety to threaten Lemura, however. 

Based on the current rate of growth in the Kaiju numbers, it might take several days before they grew to the point of being a true danger.  Yeltsin was tempted to seize the initiative.  A strike against the Kaiju already off the coast
would
reduce the beasts' number, maybe even drive them away... but it could just as easily prematurely force the Kaiju's hand.  If there were Mother Kaiju, dormant or hiding off the coast, such an attack would surely bring them into action.  Lemura had withstood attacks before.  What was happening now wasn't totally out of the ordinary.  With the fall of Pacifica, Yeltsin couldn't afford to take the chances he might have otherwise. He was willing to admit he was on edge.  Making the wrong call could bring Lemura to its knees and end the last stronghold that humanity had.  Yeltsin flagged down an assistant to fetch him a mug of what passed for coffee these days.  Another officer came up to him and handed over a data chip of the standard daily reports on Lemura's overall state of readiness.  As soon as the assistant returned with coffee, Yeltsin retired to his office to look them over.

Taking a seat behind his desk, he shoved the data chip into the reader before him. Holographic images appeared before him, displaying everything from totals of functional Mark I Dogkiller suits to detailed information regarding the status of the base's main cannons, all the way down to the current duty roosters.  With a sigh, he took a sip of the murky, black liquid in his mug and began to wade through the reports, making adjustments as he felt they were needed. 

****

Doctor Bach sat in the pilot's compartment of the lead Trident.  Normally his seat would belong to the ship's comm officer, but she had been unceremoniously booted from the aircraft to make room for Bach and all of his equipment needed to run his device. The Trident's bay was filled with the two armored squads of Dogkillers the ship carried, not including the loader, which meant that if the ship had communication problems, they would be out of luck.  The men and women in the bay were silent, their thoughts solely on the upcoming mission. 

The console in front of Bach looked like someone had gone at it with a sledgehammer and then tried to reassemble while completely intoxicated.  Wires dangled here and there from open panels.  Entire circuit boards were exposed with additional high tech modulating units jerry-rigged onto them.  Despite the mess, Bach felt confident everything was working, as it should.  His modifications had turned the standard communications station into a “Kaiju Tracker.”  Instead of detecting and transmitting radio and laser data, the console now was capable of picking up the subtle, almost surely psychic energy that passed between Kaiju when they communicated with the Overmind controlling and directing them. 

Captain James Thornton and his copilot, Lieutenant Commander Marquis Calloway, shared the cramped space with him.  Neither of them was overly happy with Bach's modifications to their ship, and was less than enthused with the overall plan.

“Lemura Tower, this is Trident One, over,” Calloway said as the lead Trident screamed through the sky.

“Trident One, Lemura Tower has you five by five, over.”

“Roger that, Lemura Tower. Commencing stage one flight in one-five seconds, over.”

“Affirmative, Trident One. Good hunting. Lemura Tower out.”

“Break trans, Trident Two, this is Trident One.

“Go.”

“On my mark, begin stage one ascent.”

“Roger.”

“Five... four... three... two... one... mark!”

“Have you figured out where we're headed yet, Doc?” Thornton asked as he guided the Trident into a steep, rapid climb, with Trident Two mere feet from his wing. The two aircraft flew with a precision that would have been envied by stunt pilots of yesteryear. He added more thrust, as both of the aircraft climbed higher into the atmosphere. Trident Two matched his speed and course, the flight path programmed in before Thornton called off the first mark.  The powerful engines howled in response, the g-forces pressing the trio deeply into their seats.