Lieutenant Steve Pomerantz, US Navy, raced above the waves in his Seahawk helicopter. No dipping sonar this time. Instead, the helicopter carried a full load of Hellfire missiles.
“All secure back there?” Pomerantz called into the intercom. The helicopter bounced lightly in the turbulence.
“We’re good, LT,” Geoffrey Torgersen, the sensor operator, said. “Although the doc’s looking a bit green.” Silence for a moment then. “No. Here.”
Pomerantz winced at a burst of static.
“I’m here,” Dr. Thomas Sanderson said. “Most of me. I think you left my stomach back on the Truman.”
“Good,” Pomerantz said. “Not much use for it out here. You can pick it up again when we get back to the carrier.”
He switched to the radio and glanced down at the commo “cheat sheet” strapped to his left thigh. “Hound Dog Three. This is Gonzo One, over.”
“Gonzo. Hound Dog.” The pilot of the helicopter currently tracking Big Blue responded.
“Hound dog, we’ve got a VIP here wanting another look at Big Blue. A real close look. Status on Big Blue?”
“Gonzo, Hound dog. Big Blue is still deep. Two hours since last breach. Should be coming up soon. Oh, and Gonzo, Truman briefed me on the mission. Better you than me, buddy.”
Pomerantz laughed. “Hound Dog, look at the bright side. I’ll never have to buy another drink so long as I live.”
The other pilot laughed. “Roger that, Gonzo One. Roger that. Hold one.”
Pomerantz glanced circled to port, keeping his speed high.
“Steve, fuel,” Rodriguez said over the intercom.
Pomerantz glanced at the instrument panel. “Roger, Charlie. We’re good for now.”
“Gonzo One, Hound Dog Three. Big Blue is coming up. I say again, Big Blue is heading for the surface.”
“Coordinates, Hound Dog?”
The pilot of Hound Dog Three read off a set of map grid coordinates.
“Charlie?” Pomerantz said over the link to the copilot.
Ensign Charlie Rodriguez tapped on the controls of the nav system, entering the coordinates.
“Hold tight,” Pomerantz said into the general intercom, warning not just Rodriguez, but Torgersen and Sanderson. He pulled into a tight turn, circling about five hundred meters from the spot that indicated Hound Dog Three’s best guess at where Big Blue would surface.
The plates broke the surface. Pomerantz shoved the cyclic stick all the way forward, adjusting the collective to maintain altitude. He veered outside his previous circle in preparation for veering back toward Big Blue.
The head came up. Pomerantz brought the helicopter around, barreling headlong at the giant creature. “Hit him, Charlie, right in the snout.”
At Pomerantz’ left, Rodriguez fired one of the Hellfire missiles. The missile flashed across the distance to explode just below Big Blue’s left eye socket.
Big Blue opened his mouth and roared, a strangely high-pitched sound from so large a creature. Pomerantz pulled to the right, keeping his speed high. As he turned, Big Blue dropped behind where he could see from the pilot’s seat.
“It’s staying on the surface,” Torgersen said. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s treading water.”
“Shooting that goo yet?” Pomerantz asked.
“Nothing yet. I think it’s looking for what bit it.”
“Something that size,” Sanderson broke in. “It would take time for nerve impulses to travel, for its brain to process them. It may very well be confused.”
“Then let’s confuse it some more,” Pomerantz said. “Charlie. Can you put one down its throat?”
“I can sure try,” Rodriquez responded.
“Then here we go.” Pomerantz pulled the helicopter around again, coming in low, nearly skimming the tops of the swells. Big Blue roared again and two Hellfire missiles lanced out from the Seahawk. One missed entirely but the other flew straight into Big Blue’s mouth.
Yet again, Big Blue roared, but this time a luminous stream shot out of his mouth. The stream swept toward them. Pomerantz hauled up on the collective and back on the cyclic. The helicopter raced for the sky and the stream passed under them. At the apex of their climb, Pomerantz kicked the right pedal. The helicopter pivoted, turning nose down and back the way they had come. Pomerantz leveled out and again trimmed for high speed run.
“Coming back this way!” Torgersen called. “High.”
Pomerantz shoved the collective down. The helicopter dropped, avoiding the return sweep of the luminous stream.
“Fuck! It’s following us.”
At Torgersen’s warning, Pomerantz once again pointed the nose skyward, this time he kept going. For an instant he could see the sea through the spinning rotor. His hands moved of their own accord. The world spun about them and, an instant later, the helicopter flew upright once more.
“He’s going under!” Torgersen called. “We did it.”
“Did he tag us?” Pomerantz asked.
“Instruments still good,” Rodriguez responded. “Engine and transmission smooth as glass. We made it.”
Pomerantz cut their speed and glanced at the fuel gauge. Still good but… He dropped the helicopter into ground effect to conserve fuel. He turned in a slow circle until he spotted Big Blue’s dorsal plates from the right side window.
He scowled. Something did not seem right. The plates were cutting through the water, not… “Oh, shit!” Before he could more than begin to climb away, Big Blue’s head burst out of the water. A luminous stream shot in their direction.
Pomerantz frantic climb evaded direct contact with the stream but the helicopter went silent except for the chirrop of the still turning rotors. “Fuck!” Pomerantz shouted. “Geoff! Raft! We’re going down.” With practiced hands he put the helicopter into auto rotation. In the distance he saw Big Blue sink beneath the waves.
Pomerantz swore as the helicopter descended toward the water. “That’s two helicopters you owe me, motherfucker.”
When an accidentally detonated nuke from a stolen submarine releases something never before seen, Sea Hawk pilot Lieutenant Steve Pomerantz is sent to investigate. He finds a blue-green monster ten times the size of the largest Tyrannosaurus Rex and seemingly impervious to every weapon in mankind’s arsenal.
Earthquakes in the South Pacific, at a location dubbed as the most remote spot on Earth, raise tsunamis all along the West Coast. Air Force Captain Jamal White, pilot of a C-130 Hercules is pulled off of search and rescue duties to ferry two scientists to investigate. What they find is a new continent arisen from the deep. And on that continent something stirs, bringing terror and madness in its wake.
Two monsters, one from the frozen North Atlantic, one from the remote South Pacific, on a collision course with the survival of mankind hanging in the balance.
The Writer in Black 