we have un-known contact! Deck Seven! In pursuit!” I shouted as I ran.
“Negative! Rabbit Hold position. Repeat- Hold your position. We’re coming to you!”
“Sir they’re right there!” I protested to my superior.
“Hold your position, Rabbit! That’s an order, soldier!”
I stopped reluctantly at the doorway and swore under my breath. All I could do was watch as the two Chinese commandos disappeared down the darkened hallway. I un-safed my weapon. A minute later Portly jogged up beside me out of breath,
“What the hell was that?!”
“Unknown, Portly.” I answered clinically still covering the hall-way with my OICWv.2. “It was probably one of the terrorists.”
“What do we do now?”
“We hold our position.” I growled in disappointment.
Chapter 5
April 20th 2021
0645 hours
Gossamer Muse Super Cruise-liner
Deck Seven, Casino
“Did you know that the Marianas trench lies beneath the Dragon’s Triangle? And below us right now are mountain ranges taller than Mount Everest?
“What?”
“I said- “did you know that the Marianas trench lies beneath the Dragon’s Triangle? And below us right now there are mountain ranges taller than Mount Everest?”
“Uh… yeah. Thanks for tip.” I replied trying to ignore him and maintain my focus down the un-lit hallway.
Like that bit of info will come handy right now.
“The name’s Portland, by the way,” he said softly peeping sheepishly around the door-way down the hall.
“Yeah. Sure.”
Two tense minutes, later the sound of several bursts mini-gun fire erupted from the dark hallway ahead of us.
“Colonel, I have gunfire. The commandos are engaging the terrorists. Request permission to engage.”
Static. I tapped at my ear-piece in vain.
“If any unit is receiving this transmission please respond.”
The COM was down.
“Concentrated atmospheric saturation,” Portly offered almost excitedly as he waved his Multi-spectrum scanner before him like a divining rod.
“Fascinating,” I groaned, “Now try saying that in English, Portly.”
“You’re…we’re being jammed but not in the conventional sense, you see. Think more like a fog or invisible mist and it’s spreading randomly in patches about the vessel. I’ve started to loose contact with the sensors we’ve been placing throughout the ship. You see, under controlled conditions to create a concen…”
“Save the science lesson, Portly,” I snapped.
Another tense minute of silence went by until the annoying technician worked up the nerve to speak again.
“Terrorists?”
“What are you on about now?”
“You said terrorists,” he babbled on.
“No offense, friend. But I really don’t see the sense of having you techs in the field. You guys just get in the way in situations like this.”
“This from the guy who thinks we were sent here after terrorists,” he chuckled cynically. “You obviously didn’t read the fine-print when you signed up for this out-fit did you? Hello? Project Blue Book mean anything to you?”
Great, I thought to myself. I get stuck here with the crazy.
The tecnician continued to babble.
“Our units’ insignia is a dragon locked in internal combat with a tiger with the motto “Hic sunt monstra.” Do you even know what that means? Google it sometime, jar-hea-”
With a wave of my hand I cut him off.
“Shut up, Portly,” I growled shouldering my rifle, “I think I hear someone coming.”
Sure enough the faint staggered foot-falls become louder. So did Portly’s nervously chattering teeth. I took a breath, held it, and prepared to fire into the darkness.
Suddenly Jin-Lao stepped into the beam of my flash-light. He looked as if he was on the verge of collapse. His M4AI assault rifle hung limply from the sling draped across his chest. He leaned against the bulk-head as he dragged himself towards us with great effort.
I went to him. He collapsed into my arms as I neared him. With Portly’s help I dragged the wounded commando back to the doorway.
Jin-Lao’s face had become drawn and ashen-white and his lips were a blue-black color. The blood vessels around his eyes, nostrils and mouth showed clearly- like thin blue threads. His skin was cold. suddenly he began to convulse un-controllably. We laid him face down on the floor. A large blade- like shard protruded from his back. It was a foot long if it was an inch.
I grabbed hold of it and yanked it loose and Jin-Lao exploded in agony. The thick, viscous liquid that oozed from the knife-like ‘spike’ burned at my hand through my glove. What kind of weapon shoots this; I thought as I briefly examined the spike then tossed it away quickly.
Portly passed his scanner over the gaping wound.
“His vitals are dropping fast and I’m reading lethal levels toxins in his blood stream data.” Portly announced alarmed, “help me turn him over.”
As I did so Jin-Lao pulled me closer.
“Kaiju,” he cried his voice barely a whisper. “Help Tan,” he pleaded gasping for breath. Then with one sudden violent convulsion he was dead.
Kaiju? I thought. Monster?
Portly tried in vain to resuscitate him with C.P.R. then turned to me,
“What do we do now?”
For a brief moment all I couldn’t help but stare into Jin-Lao’s pitch-black irises as the light faded from them. Without a word I un-slung Jin-Lao’s M4A1 assault rifle from his corpse, checked it for ammo and passed it to Portly.
“Anything comes back down this hallway that isn’t me..,” I said trying not to seem rattled, “…you pull that trigger. And when that gun stops firing…run.”
I could tell from
