beyond, making sure it was cute enough to be fun yet respectable if she grew up to make something important of herself.
Instead, this High Alert had gone out, and all the carriers, coast guard vessels, destroyers and hell, the entire U.S. Navy—every ship that could be spared—had been mobilized. All hands were needed to guard the borders. No ships got in, and all pilots were on standby. He had hoped being on a carrier would be deterrent enough for anyone foolish enough to dare the blockade, that whatever the threat was, it would surely seek out a weaker entry point.
So when he got his orders and he suited up to launch—preparing to intercept an incoming cargo vessel that hadn’t responded to radio contacts—Remington was sure it was just a simple mistake. Someone asleep at the wheel, a trader with a malfunctioning transmitter.
Just a simple launch, flyover and report back mission.
Except it wasn’t.
Ten seconds after he went airborne in his F/A-18, soaring up and over the Atlantic, he picked up a bogey at the same time his orders came barking through.
“Airborne targets imminent!”
What? Remington ascended, shooting for higher altitudes while zeroing in on the red blip, tearing in from the direction of the cargo vessel. Could it have been launched from there? Impossible! The specs on the boat were that it was little bigger than a freighter, and unless it had a heli-pad… No, this incoming threat—if that’s what it was—appeared now in his vision, growing as he streaked toward it.
“Not a plane,” Remington yelled into the mic.
One other pilot had launched with him, coming up strong on his right.
“Alvarez,” he said, looking across his shoulder. “Take it easy and hold your fire.”
“Ain’t nothing but a bird,” Alvarez shouted back, then eased ahead of Remington’s ride. “A big-ass bird, but hell, that’s all. I’ll just…”
Another red blip appeared on the screen, this one coming up closer, as if it had been underneath them the whole time. Impossible, Remington thought. Nothing that big could fly under the radar, so close to the water, but yet…
Another bird?
He tilted the F/A-18’s nose, then angled right as Alvarez streaked ahead—and Remington caught just a glimpse of something brown, leathery and enormous. Wings and a huge pointed head with a single searing red eye that seemed to look at him and up at the other plane simultaneously.
“Alvarez!” Remington felt a cross current— a sudden thrust from the creature’s wings? He compensated, executed a full spin and turned, craning his neck—only to see the huge creature complete its missile-like approach and snap its jaws in perfect timing. Sparks and flames kicked out from Alvarez’s left wing, where a chunk of the aircraft had ripped off into the attacker’s mouth.
Alvarez got off a few rounds of machine gun fire, but then his smoking plane was nose-diving.
Get out, get out! Remington urged, horror-struck as he flew on and upward, away from the range of that…whatever the hell it was.
“Eject,” he said in a hollow tone. “Alvarez?”
The other bird-creature came into view, flapping hard, flying lower as if struggling with a heavy weight. As Remington flattened out, turned and gave chase, he thought he could make out things in its hind talons—moving forms, arms, legs…hideous faces? He was seeing shit now, probably. Other figures clung to its body, grasping at gouges in the creature’s flesh, passengers along for the ride.
Far below, Alvarez must have ejected. Remington could see the parachute open, a bright red, white and blue beacon floating to safety…
…until the first beast swooped down in pursuit, its giant wings blocking out the sight for a heart-rending moment, and then it was up and ascending again… this time, with shredded ‘chute pieces hanging from its beak, and no sign of Alvarez.
The creature—a pterodactyl, Remington thought, finally putting a name with the monstrosity ( Names are
Instead, this High Alert had gone out, and all the carriers, coast guard vessels, destroyers and hell, the entire U.S. Navy—every ship that could be spared—had been mobilized. All hands were needed to guard the borders. No ships got in, and all pilots were on standby. He had hoped being on a carrier would be deterrent enough for anyone foolish enough to dare the blockade, that whatever the threat was, it would surely seek out a weaker entry point.
So when he got his orders and he suited up to launch—preparing to intercept an incoming cargo vessel that hadn’t responded to radio contacts—Remington was sure it was just a simple mistake. Someone asleep at the wheel, a trader with a malfunctioning transmitter.
Just a simple launch, flyover and report back mission.
Except it wasn’t.
Ten seconds after he went airborne in his F/A-18, soaring up and over the Atlantic, he picked up a bogey at the same time his orders came barking through.
“Airborne targets imminent!”
What? Remington ascended, shooting for higher altitudes while zeroing in on the red blip, tearing in from the direction of the cargo vessel. Could it have been launched from there? Impossible! The specs on the boat were that it was little bigger than a freighter, and unless it had a heli-pad… No, this incoming threat—if that’s what it was—appeared now in his vision, growing as he streaked toward it.
“Not a plane,” Remington yelled into the mic.
One other pilot had launched with him, coming up strong on his right.
“Alvarez,” he said, looking across his shoulder. “Take it easy and hold your fire.”
“Ain’t nothing but a bird,” Alvarez shouted back, then eased ahead of Remington’s ride. “A big-ass bird, but hell, that’s all. I’ll just…”
Another red blip appeared on the screen, this one coming up closer, as if it had been underneath them the whole time. Impossible, Remington thought. Nothing that big could fly under the radar, so close to the water, but yet…
Another bird?
He tilted the F/A-18’s nose, then angled right as Alvarez streaked ahead—and Remington caught just a glimpse of something brown, leathery and enormous. Wings and a huge pointed head with a single searing red eye that seemed to look at him and up at the other plane simultaneously.
“Alvarez!” Remington felt a cross current— a sudden thrust from the creature’s wings? He compensated, executed a full spin and turned, craning his neck—only to see the huge creature complete its missile-like approach and snap its jaws in perfect timing. Sparks and flames kicked out from Alvarez’s left wing, where a chunk of the aircraft had ripped off into the attacker’s mouth.
Alvarez got off a few rounds of machine gun fire, but then his smoking plane was nose-diving.
Get out, get out! Remington urged, horror-struck as he flew on and upward, away from the range of that…whatever the hell it was.
“Eject,” he said in a hollow tone. “Alvarez?”
The other bird-creature came into view, flapping hard, flying lower as if struggling with a heavy weight. As Remington flattened out, turned and gave chase, he thought he could make out things in its hind talons—moving forms, arms, legs…hideous faces? He was seeing shit now, probably. Other figures clung to its body, grasping at gouges in the creature’s flesh, passengers along for the ride.
Far below, Alvarez must have ejected. Remington could see the parachute open, a bright red, white and blue beacon floating to safety…
…until the first beast swooped down in pursuit, its giant wings blocking out the sight for a heart-rending moment, and then it was up and ascending again… this time, with shredded ‘chute pieces hanging from its beak, and no sign of Alvarez.
The creature—a pterodactyl, Remington thought, finally putting a name with the monstrosity ( Names are
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