Godzilla Lives!
A Godzilla fanfiction by Travis J. DeSantis
Chapter Twenty-Four
Private First Class Watanabe swallowed hard. He had never been this nervous in his life. He felt both hot and cold at the same time. Sweat poured off his face, stinging his eyes and soaking into his collar. A chill ran down his spine and spread to his limbs. His clammy hands wouldn't stop shaking.
For the better part of an hour, Watanabe's sole responsibility was to keep his weapon aimed at the enemy target. He manned a 120mm cannon, the main weapon of the Japanese Ground Self-Defense Force's Type 90 Tank. Watanabe was a natural at wielding the autoloading cannon and quickly proved himself a master marksman in training. However, this was no training mission. The Type 90 was a formidable weapon alone, but Private Watanabe's tank crew was only one in a hundred. The streets of the Tokyo Waterfront Subcenter were bristling with the barrels of tanks, howitzers, and rocket launchers like some kind of explosive hedgehog. Today's threat could not be underestimated and all available weapons were trained on the target, ready to be fired at a moment's notice.
Godzilla had returned to Tokyo. It seemed the atomic monstrosity was going to continue the rampage he started on the island nation's capital years ago. But to the surprise and relief of the city's inhabitants, the black giant appeared to have other plans today. After the initial terror of his coming ashore, Godzilla made no move to attack the metropolis. Instead, he stood a silent vigil at the edge of the Subcenter. For fifty minutes, the monster watched calmly as Tokyo Bay was emptied of every ship and boat able to set sail. Not a sigh or growl escaped the beast's lips as he remained at his post, as if waiting patiently. Godzilla made no attempts to attack the city and even the methodical undulations of his tail--as long as the giant was tall--caused little more than minor property damage.
Watanabe squirmed in his seat, his uniform starting to chafe as it soaked up his sweat. His fingers hovered anxiously over the 120mm cannon's firing trigger. This was a waiting game the soldier wasn't sure he could win.
~~~~~
"He's been here for an hour!?" Sgt. Higa choked, suddenly feeling very hoarse. Now that the various scientists, soldiers, and diplomats at the UNGCC meeting had gone back to their respective duties, the conference room was empty and Amane had opted to steal a nap. Needless to say, he was rudely awakened. "Why wasn't I notified sooner!?"
Yashiro Honda shrugged. As they half-jogged through the halls of G-Force HQ, it was apparent that the former video game programmer was the only one present that was taking this tense situation in stride. "Sho thought you deserved a little break. Besides, Big G hasn't so much as swished his tail at us."
"That's not the point!" the redheaded pilot argued. "My job is to fight Godzilla. I can't do that if no one tells me he's here!"
Yashiro favored him with a shit-eating grin. "Then maybe you should have been awake."
"That's not the point either..." Higa repeated impotently.
Finally, they arrived at Tactical Operations. TO is the nerve center of G-Force, filled with technicians constantly pouring over the flow of tactical information, hence the name. A semi-circular room with computer consoles reaching out from the walls, TO resembled a giant robot's ribcage. About the same size as Godzilla's chest, Amane had once mused. The commander's chair was positioned in the sternum of the room, where Aso himself was sitting in quiet contemplation. Major Kuroki was by his side and both men were watching the large view monitor; they wore grave expressions.
"Sorry I'm late, sir," Higa apologized, almost forgetting to salute. "What's the situation?"
Sho gestured at the monitor. "As you can see, Godzilla is currently inactive. In the time he's so graciously given us, the Waterfront Subcenter has been evacuated and the JSDF has gathered all the land-based defenses they could. The 7th Air Wing Base in Hyakuri is equipping a squadron of F-15 Eagles with cadmium Sidewinders. If we call in for a strike, they can be here in ten minutes."
Amane nodded, not quite absorbing the information. It was an eerie scene. Amidst the constant flow of orders and reports exchanged by the TO's staff, those assembled around the commander were an island of grave solemnity. They all stared at the image of Godzilla on the giant monitor, a live feed from an AH-1S Helicopter hovering over the Subcenter. He was almost too big to fit in the picture.
Kuroki leaned towards the elder soldier. "You're orders, sir?" he asked, breaking the revere.
"Has the Fire Mirror been repaired yet?" queried Aso.
Yashiro shook his head and his shoulders sagged. "The damn power converter is totally fried. Even if they built a new one from scratch, it couldn't be done sooner than tomorrow. And that's not counting installation time. Without it, the Fire Mirror is just a big piece of ugly modern art."
"Very well," the plump commander replied. "Prep the Super-X2 as is and take off. We'll go with the original plan and use the sonic transmitter to draw Godzilla away from the city. There's no sense in provoking him unnecessarily."
*BA-DOOM!*
Right before their eyes, a lone tank shell exploded against Godzilla's shoulder. A stricken silence fell over the room. The smoke cleared; a bit of fire still clung to the beast's scales. The saurian's thick, meaty neck twisted around farther than it looked capable of and a single red-rimmed eye focused on the JSDF, scanning the streets as if noticing them for the first time. Godzilla's tail slowly arched up, then came crashing down, driving the offending Type 90 into the ground like an exposed nail.
The tension broken and some field officer foolishly gave the order to open fire. The initial salvo sounded like a crash of thunder and Godzilla was driven back a step, pavement fracturing under his enormous clawed foot. A blue aura of energy surrounded his maple leaf-shaped spines and with an angry roar, Godzilla vomited nuclear death upon the JSDF.
