Monster Island News
| Welcome to M o n s t e r l a n d F o r u m s! We are a growing, casual and friendly online community of movie fans who like to talk about giant monsters, horror and sci-fi in cinema, on television and on DVD. There are forums for sports, casual chat and video games as well. For those of you who like making art, writing stories and creating videos, our community includes a forum for these submissions as well. Check out our main index page and other board forums! Anyone is welcome to join our community! M o n s t e r l a n d F o r u m s was created on January 29, 2006 for the purpose of giving fans of giant monster films and other sci-fi/horror movies a friendly online meeting place to discuss all of their favorite films and other things of interest. -Lee "Packmule" Merritt Site founder |
| The War Monsters-Part Five; "Defense Of The Mainland" | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Apr 16 2007, 07:14 AM (322 Views) | |
| packmule | Apr 16 2007, 07:14 AM Post #1 |
Site founder
  ![]](http://209.85.117.197/static/1/pip_r.png)
|
U.S. Navy destroyer Cassidy The two five inch guns, fore and aft, of the U.S. Navy destroyer Cassidy, blasted round after round at the two enormous monsters that churned through the water towards the ship, both beasts moving at over thirty five knots, and quickly closing on the port beam of the U.S. Navy warship. The Commanding Officer of the Cassidy had his ship execute evasive maneuvers. The problem was these maneuvers were designed to avoid enemy torpedoes, which followed a predicated, straight line course. The pair of monsters plowing through the waters of the Gulf Of Alaska, and bearing down on the Cassidy, were adjusting their own movements to that of the U.S. Navy destroyer. Geysers of water exploded upwards as the five inch shells from the destroyer's guns repeatedly missed each monster. The leviathans, sensing that the ship was a threat, acted instinctively. Approximately thirteen minutes after the creatures had first spotted the warship, both monsters made contact with the Navy destroyer. The blue skinned, long necked creature slammed into the Cassidy's port quarter, while the alligator-like red/brown skinned monster rammed into the warship's bow on the portside. The ship lurched to the right at a thirty degree angle, the initial impact of the monsters sending over seventy sailors plunging over the ship's starboard lifelines, bodies being flung, like rag dolls, into the water. The red-skinned monster clamped it's jaws on the destroyer's radar mast and ripped it off. The mast crashed into the water. The blue-skinned monster managed to rip the aft five inch turret off it's hub, the turret crashing into the water beside the ship. Those inside the pilothouse were crushed to death when the red-colored reptilian monster slammed it's foot downward across the overhead bridge bulkhead. Screams rang out as water began to flood into the superstructure of the warship. Both monsters snapped at each other briefly, before returning to the task of ripping the U.S. warship apart. The waters around the destroyer turned red with blood, dozens of bodies of sailors floating in the choppy waters. The red-skinned beast managed to move forward and partially onto the main superstructure of the damaged ship. Under it's weight the destroyer began to sink even more quickly. One minute later the U.S.S. Cassidy was gone, submerged under the bodies of the two monsters, who swam around over it, the mangled destroyer's hull slowly sinking in a churning, hissing mass of bubbles, to the sea bottom some 1000 feet below. There were now over two hundred bodies of the sunken destroyer's crew in the water. Along with the ship, gone were over 400 enlisted men and twenty officers, half of them floating face downwards in the waters above, and half trapped inside the destroyer's hull as it sank to the bottom. The pair of enormous monsters slowly turned and began moving through the waters of the Gulf Of Alaska in a southeasterly direction, one that would take them straight to the coastl of Washington state. Naval Air Station-Juneau Commodore William Baskin set the phone down and nearly fell as he collapsed in his chair, the cigar falling out of his mouth. The burly Commodore picked up his phone again, his jaw clenched. The shock, and anguish he had initially felt after learning of the Cassidy's fate was replaced with anger. "This is Commodore Baskin. I need to speak with Admiral Vincent...now," Baskin said clearly into the phone. Baskin ran a hand through his hair. He heard the Admiral's voice. "Bill, what the hell's going on? I just a got a report we've lost a goddamn destroyer to a couple of giant sea monsters!" "It's confirmed Max. It was the salvage op-these goddamn things were inside the objects on the sea floor. They must have been released after the detonations," Baskin said grimly. "Bill, what the hell I'm supposed to tell the Secretary Of Defense? And the goddamn President?" "Tell them the truth, Max. In the meantime, I need more resources than I have at my disposal to stop these things. They're making transit through the southwest grid of the gulf for the coastline of Washington," Baskin said coldly. "What do you need to stop them Bill?" Baskin briefly closed his eyes, in thought. "A squadron of VSTOL. These things are highly maneuverable. Conventional fighter-bombers may not be as effective. I need jump jets," Baskin said hoarsely. Alright. I'm going to brief the Secretary in about ten minutes. What do I tell him Bill?" Admiral Vincent asked urgently. "Tell them I've got two turboprops in the air right now, tracking these creatures. The research ship Aurora is also following these things, from a safe distance. I'm going to call the civil defense people in Washington and Oregon. California, too. Get the coastlines evacuated. We've got a diesel sub taking station just about now off the Washington coast, to try and put some fucking torps in these things. I just got off the phone with Colonel Greevey, the CO of the Washington state Army National Guard. He's putting together an op plan right now to defend Seattle," Baskin said wearily. "What about the Army? Admiral Vincent asked. "Yes sir. they're in the loop." Alright. I'll call you in an hour. Stay in your office Bill, and keep your television turned on," the Admiral stated. "Yes sir," Commodore Baskin said, setting the phone down. Baskin depressed the "call" button" on the Mark-16 analog transmitter that sat beside the phone. Lieutenant Mokes speaking, Admiral." "Get the Aurora on the line, now!" Baskin barked. Yes sir! Standby." Commodore William Baskin rubbed his eyes again, feeling a headache setting in on the right side of his head. He reached for the bottle of aspirin inside his desk. USS Bluefin, SSR-276, on station off the northern coast of Washington Commander Allen Brower, the commanding officer of the U.S. Navy diesel submarine Bluefin, rubbed the back of his neck, cursing under his breath, his clear blue eyes blinking as he lit a cigarette. Brower's executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Griffin Hesstert, handed the CO a cup of coffee. "Thanks Griff. Still nothing on sonar?" The blond-haired Hesstert nodded no. "Skipper, from what you described, I can't think this old boat would stand a chance against..." the LCDR's voice trailed off. Brower stared hard at his exec. "Don't think I know that? And all the enlisted men know it too. It stinks. ComSubPac doesn't want to risk putting a Skipjack up against these things. If one of the reactors on one of them was exposed to the sea-" Hesstert cut off Brower. "Skipper, I undertand. Everyone here understands," the executive officer said solemnly. Commander Brower looked past his XO, at the enlisted men who manned the controls of the 310 foot long, twenty year old, diesel-electric powered submarine. The control room was silent, save for the loud, repetitive thrum of the submarine's diesel engine. All eyes were on the Bluefin's commanding officer. "What's our position Chief?" Brower said clearly. Chief Petty Officer Melvin Weems looked quickly at the gauge to his right. "Eighteen knots skipper. Maintaining station. No sonar contacts, no radar contacts," the CPO barked clearly. "Okay. Weapons status?" Brower queried, stubbing out the cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the edge of the radar console. "All six torpedo tubes manned, all tubes loaded, weapons on safety," Chief Weems snapped crisply, a cigar poking out of a corner of his mouth. "Very well. Griff, can you connect me to a landline at NAS Juneau?" Brower asked. "Will do skipper," Hesstert said, darting into the small radio room. "Chief, pass the word. I'm going to address the crew...in about ten minutes. Keep your eyes glued to that radar console Swenson," Brower said sharply to the third-class petty officer, who was seated near the Chief. "Yes sir," Swenson said, casting a glance up at Chief Petty Officer Weems as the Bluefin's captain stepped into the radio room. The research ship Aurora "How long until they make landfall Cliff?" Commander Jim Powers asked, looking over at LCDR Clifford Mason, who was huddled over the pilothouse plot table with the ship's quartermaster. "They've slowed Jim. They're on the edge of our scope, about forty miles southeast, and about fifty miles from the northwest tip of Washington's coast. They've averaged about twenty-five knots since...the Cassidy was destroyed. My guess is they'll reach the coast in two hours...maybe three," the black Navy officer replied. Jim Powers ran a hand through his short shock of dark brown hair, his dark eyes blinking as he processed the information. "Where are the scientists?" Powers asked hoarsely. "They're under restriction...in their cabins, per your orders," Lieutenant Loren Wescott replied, standing by the portside pilothouse hatch, a pair of binoculars draped around her neck. "How long's it been since you slept?" Powers asked, looking at the brunette Naval Intelligence officer. She managed a weak smile. "A while." "Why don't you knock off for a few hours, get some sleep," Powers said, walking over to her. "I'm alright, really. I'd like to try and hang for a little while longer. If I can't hack it, ...I'll be the first to let you know Jim," the dark-eyed brunette said wanly. "Okay, but I'm holding you to that," Powers cautioned, touching Loren's shoulder. She nodded. the Aurora's civilian CO appeared in the pilothouse. "I'm feeling better Commander Powers. Sorry I...fell apart earlier," Larssen said wistfully. "It was understandable, given the circumstances, Captain," Powers said. "I went to speak to the government official onboard. I cannot find him," Larssen said, blinking. "Cliff, can you get a search detail going" Find Talman Ziker, if he's on this ship, and put him in David Bauer's quarters," Powers said clearly. LCDR Mason nodded, darting down the corridor behind the pilothouse of the research ship. "Do you really think those things...will reach the coastline?" Captain Larssen asked, looking at Jim Powers. "They might. The Navy's dispatched a diesel sub out of the reserve fleet from Tacoma to try and stop them. I got off the horn with Commodore Baskin about fifteen minutes ago," Powers said. Larssen looked down at the radar scope in silence. Larssen squinted. "What's this?" he asked. Powers stepped quickly to the radar console. "U.S. Marine jump jets, out of San Francisco...maybe we won't need the Bluefin," Powers said. Twenty six miles off the northwest coast of Washington state U.S. Marine Captain Aubrey Penholdt looked down through the starboard side cockpit panel of his jet, which hovered some two hundred fifty feet above the Gulf Of Alaska, hardly believing his eyes: the two enormous monsters were thrashing about in the waters below, the remnants of a Russian spy trawler, it's hull halfway submerged, between the pair of creatures. "Echo four this is Jaguar. The targets are below us. I repeat, the targets are below us. They've just sunk a Russian trawler. Be advised, a Russian AGI is down. We are currently twenty six miles off the coast of Washington, in grid niner two, repeat grid niner two. Request weapons free, over", Penholdt said loudly into his helmet microphone. "Permission granted Jaguar, Weapons free. You are ordered to destroy the targets," the male voice crackled into his mike. "Alright guys, form up on me. Let's take these fucking things out," the Marine Corp aviator growled. "Aye cap," three voices crackled over his cockpit mike. Four Navy VSTOL jets shot forward and formed back up a mile down-bound of the monsters. In less than a minute the Navy jets made their first run, dropping 500 lb contact-detonation bombs. All eight bombs missed their targets, the pair of monsters quickly moving away from the sinking wreck of the Russian trawler. The bombs exploded in the water, sending up huge geysers of water. Many of the dead bodies of the trawler's crew were flung high into the air by the detonations, the water around the trawler's mangled hull a dull brown-red. Both monsters disappeared beneath the waves, about two hundred feet away from the sinking trawler. "This is Jaguar. The targets have disappeared below the surface. We cannot make another run. Repeat, we cannot make another run. They're too fast. We are returning to base," Captain Penholdt said angrily into the mike. The four Navy jump jets veered south. U.S.S. Bluefin "Fire all tubes!" Commander Brower shouted amidst the noise of the control room inside the U.S. Navy diesel submarine. "Torps away Captain!" Chief Weems snapped from the control room main weapons console. "Reciprocal bearing XO, now!" Brower snapped to his executive officer. LCDR Griffin Hesstert snapped out the command to the helmsmen, a pair of enlisted men manning the sub's manual controls. "Course 210, now. Flank speed!" Hesstert said in a near shout. The old sub roaned and creaked as it swung around, and began increasing speed to move away from the torpedo detonations. "How close Chief?" Commander Allen Brower snapped. "About a thousand yards skipper. We need to be farther-" Brower cut the Chief Petty Officer in mid-sentence. "Griff, get engineering on the horn. Tell the cheng I want everything he can squeeze out of those diesels!" Hesstert stepped briskly to the engineering comm panel in the rear of the Bluefin's control room. "Sonar?" Brower snapped. A young petty officer manning the sonar station looked up. "The torpedoes are closing in, running straight and true Captain. Thirty seconds to impact," the youthful, blond petty officer said nervously. "Very well," Brower said, grabbing the periscope station mike. "All hands brace for impact. Two of our special torpedoes are going to detonate in approximately twenty seconds!" Commander Brower said clearly into the mike. The monsters, swimming around some fifty feet below the surface of the Gulf Of Alaska, had been skirmishing for nearly ten minutes, snapping and biting at each other. One unfortunate sperm whale, passing too close, had been bitten in half by the red-skinned, alligator-like leviathan, which swallowed one half of the whale quickly, it's jaws opening and closing slowly as the ragged, bloody remnants of the whale disappeared down it's maw. The monster's aggression towards each other was interrupted by the sonar pings of the pair of torpedoes, each containing a tactical nuclear warhead. The torpedoes closed on the monsters, who instinctively descended deeper. Both monsters snaked their huge bulks into huge crevasses some four hundred feet below the surface, and along the face of a rocky abutment near the Cascadia subduction, a large, half mile wide, one hundred foot deep fault along the sea floor. The torpedoes, losing their sonar "lock" on the monsters, detonated after running out of fuel, some four hundred yards from the monsters. Two one kiloton warheads detonated simultaneously, the detonation sending a loud boom through the water, accompanied by the shockwave. Miraculously the Cascadia fault below did not fracture. The monsters themselves, partially shielded by their sanctuary in the crevasses of the deep ridge, were flung backwards by the shockwave, which did manage to blast parts of the ridge into hundreds of pieces. The Bluefin, unfortunately, would be the only real casualty of the detonation. It took ten seconds for the initial shockwave to hit the rear of the diesel submarine, which was about 2/3 of a mile away. The shockwave caused the old sub to rupture amidships, splitting open, millions of churning, hissing bubbles escaping the sub's insides. In five seconds the entire interior of the sub had vented to the sea, and the Bluefin spun slowly around as it descended towards the sea bottom some six hundred feet below. The research ship Aurora "He's not on board Jim," LCDR Clifford Mason declared, appearing in the pilothouse. Jim Powers looked at the black officer in disbelief, saying nothing. "One of the inflatables is missing from the port side equipment locker. My guess is he jumped over the side, and is on it, floating around out there," Mason said. "He's probably already been picked up. He wouldn't have left this ship unless he'd arranged for it," Powers grumbled, tossing a half-smoked, used up cigar over the starboard bridge-wing rail in disgust. "What did the Commodore say?" Mason asked. Powers found a fresh cigar in his shirt pocket and bit off the end. "The shockwave from the Bluefin's special warhead torps sank her. A Skipjack, the Sea Tiger, has found the wreckage. These things took out a Russian trawler. Baskin says we can expect some Russian warships out of the Bering Sea in these waters in less than twenty-four hours. A flotilla of destroyers and subs embarked about thirty minutes ago from San Francisco at top speed. Christ, if dealing with these things wasn't enough...we might have the start of World War Three on our hands, right off the coast of Washington," Powers said angrily, spying David Bauer, who stepped into the pilothouse. "What are you doing up here?" Powers snapped at the blond-haired scientist. "I want to help you kill those things," the scientist replied. "What makes you think we need your help?" Jim Powers said, his dark eyes blinking, his voice full of muted rage. "The creatures are very maneuverable. Bombs dropped from the air missed them. Apparently so did submarine launched torpedoes," LCDR Cliff Mason said to the scientist, who was joined by his sister, Taryn Bauer. "What about the use of chemical weapons?" Taryn Bauer asked. "That's being considered right now," Jim Powers growled, checking his watch. "Let's face it: if these things make landfall you can't use a nuclear weapon, even something of small yield-the fallout-"David Bauer started, cut off by Mason. "We know that already. You mentioned chemical weapons. Like what? A contact burn agent or-". Taryn Bauer waved off the black Navy officer. "It would only enrage these creatures even more. So far we know they can swim, they can somehow breathe underwater, at least longer than our own mammals, and that they have a generally hostile demeanor. So far we haven't been able to corner these things in order to use any weapons," Taryn Bauer said. "So you're saying conventional weapons can kill them?" Powers asked. The two scientists nodded yes in unison. "Their blood was pooled in the water, the night before the detonations that freed them. That was the monster's blood in the water that we found, probably coming from some crack in the encasements they were in. The impacts of these things into the water must have injured them. They can bleed Commander. In my book that makes them animals... from a different planet, but animals nonetheless," Taryn Bauer stated clearly. The pilothouse growler roared to life. Powers lifted it to his ear, listening to a report from the communications shack duty officer, a civilian named R.J. Revis. Powers, after a moment, set the growler back in it's harness. All eyes in the pilothouse were looking at the U.S. Navy Commander. Powers spoke. "That was a civil defense station near Tacoma. The monsters have reached the coast. They're making their way inland, with heavy damage." The northwest coast of Washington state The pair of one hundred ninety foot long, sixty foot tall, five hundred ton monsters slowly made their way inland, a lone U.S. Navy helicopter hovering overhead several hundred feet above the creatures. The blue-skinned behemoth, referred to on it's home planet as a Galadrosaur, was the first to reach the power lines, followed shortly by it's red-skinned counterpart, called, on it's home world, a Deragon. The two giants plowed through the electrical lines, setting off a huge outburst of sparks. The Galadrosaur swung it's tail into the adjacent, two-story power relay utility building, the facility blasted apart, chunks of the roof and walls flying in all directions. The Deragon kicked a utility truck with it's webbed foot, the truck flying end over end into a nearby one story house. Several people, all males, ran out of the house, attempting to reach a station wagon parked in the gravel driveway ten yards away. They didn't make it. The Deragon stepped on the car seconds later, the trio of men in the car crushed to death. The red-skinned monster stepped forward, the flattened Ford Fairlane station wagon hammered ten feet into the Earth by the crushing weight of the monster's clawed foot. A propane tank by the house ignited seconds later, a blast equivalent to that of a half-ton of TNT annihilating the house and a nearby storage shed. The two monsters seemed oblivious to the blaze, even curious of the flames. The Galadrosaur thundered past the charred, burning remains of the house, as did the Deragon. Ahead of the two leviathans lay a two mile stretch of flatlands and a single, two-lane coastal highway. Beyond that the town of Kingsport, population 8567. |
 Packmule's Pen Humongous(1982) Grizzly(1976) | |
 |
|
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Packmule's Pen · Next Topic » |
12:44 PM Nov 8
