Dawn of the
Giantess (Volume 4)
By Richard C.H.
Davies
This story
contains: Giantess, giantess attack, military
Sunlight
glinted off the deck of the 280m long aircraft carrier, Queen Elizabeth II, as
she floated in her mooring at Portsmouth harbour.
She
had recently returned from an extended voyage of sea trials with the new F35
Lighting Joint Strike Fighters. They were part of the Squadron 617 Dambusters.
A
pair of Marine Squadron F35Bs, also known as VMFA-211, or the Wake Island
Avengers, were also taxiing to the side of the launch deck. They had been
attached to the British aircraft carrier as part of a joint ally exercise from
their home base Marine Corps Air Station Yuma, Arizona.
A
cluster of seamen and women were jogging circuits around the flight deck.
A
beacon flashed near the main primary control tower and a klaxon sounded, all
heads looked towards the tower. Protection was being cleared from two F35
Lightning aircraft, their pilots were jogging over, helmets clasped in their hands.
They
were soon strapping into the aircraft as ground crews were finalising the
preparation for the scramble take-off. Their orders were simple, full speed to
intercept, super-sonic permitted, identify the reported sighting and report for
further orders.
They
hadn’t had an opportunity to assess the threat and make a judgement on their
weapon loadout so they were armed with two air to air missiles and a suite of
air to sea missiles.
Helicopters
in the background were being loaded out with torpedoes.
The
engine room increased the power to the aircraft carrier propellers, a standard
procedure in heightened warning order situations.
Within
minutes the two F35B’s were casting a shadow over the sea as they jetted off
the carrier, banking hard in a curving arc, climbing steeply and briefly.
Observers
at the National Maritime Museum watched, hands covering their foreheads
shielding their eyes from the sun, as they saw the fighters very loudly scrambling
from the aircraft carrier.
The
two aircraft levelled out and then the pilots applied full throttle.
The
flightsuits took some of the G-force but they could feel the crushing power as
the Pratt and Whitney turbofan engine roared.
The
fighters skipped through the air towards their target.
*
Call
sign ‘Black Knight’ gently yawed to the right, the airspeed was at maximum as all
four engines propelled the E-3D Sentry closer to the target, towards the Isles
of Scilly.
Black
Knight had been 190 kilometres away from the target, out on patrol in the Atlantic,
but the Airborne Warning And Control System (AWACS) aircraft had picked up the
radar anomaly at that range.
Black
Knight had sent over the data to RAF command and they had received similar,
less accurately placed sighting from various civilian seafaring vessels. The
coastguard had been deployed and had also sent over information.
The
information was conflicting, there were reports of a giant hairy whale, or a
huge walrus. Or other reports stated perhaps it was a giant swimming bear or a mermaid. Some kind of extra-terrestrial others had
claimed.
Now
after ten minutes at its maximum airspeed Black Knight had cut that range down
significantly, the radar operator was able to get a much more accurate
location.
The
Sentry was able to pick out a floating object in the sea from over one hundred
miles away on a good day. This anomaly was much more than random flotsam. There
was also evidence that it was moving much more quickly than floating debris
would be if it was just bobbing about or even when it was carried by the strong
currents of the sea.
Black
Knight’s accurate location was transmitted to the two F-35B’s. They were also
highlighted on the radar display, two blue icons demonstrating the friendly
status.
Various
other civilian aircraft littered the sky, but were now starting to be turned
away by the RAF, Royal Navy, Army air force, coastguard and civilian air
traffic control. Part of the AWACs crew’s role was to assist in coordinating
the clear airspace.
Lastly
they were keeping an eye on a pair of red icons that were tittering on the edge
of the 400 mile effective range of the AWACs radar. They had unidentified IFFs;
but from the profile, speed, size and general approach they were easily
recognisable to the seasoned crew as Russian Tupolev TU-142s.
Russian
military aircraft were usually probing and pushing the boundaries of the
invisible UK or Commonwealth borders somewhere on Earth, particularly around
Britain. This in itself was not an uncommon occurrence; however this pair of
TU-142s was lingering with apparent interest.
It
wasn’t clear whether they were interested in the scrambled launch of the
F-35B’s, the sudden change in direction and full- speed angular approach of
Black Knight, the presence of several RAF Eurofighter Typhoons that were also
jetting across from mainland England, or the immediate and combined
re-direction of all civilian air traffic, perhaps it was all of the above.
Either
way Black Knight received its instructions from command, new orders were to
direct two of the Typhoon’s onto an intercept course with the TU-142s. Further
to this they were to direct the F-35’s accurately to intercept the anomaly in
the sea, continue to track and record the direction of travel of the anomaly
and also importantly track for any other potential threats.
They
were also being ordered to direct the upcoming and deploying military task
groups as well as they became combat ready.
*
Within
seven minutes the F35’s were tens of kilometres away and at over Mach 1.6, the
choppy sea was a blur over to their sides.
The
rear fighter dropped its airspeed right down and maintained altitude, keeping
air cover above its wingman, the lead fighter had dropped down to several
hundred metres above sea level and dropped airspeed to a third.
Captain
Conroy was the pilot of the lead F35. He was slightly bemused at the radar
signal he was receiving.
It
was perhaps not a clear picture of what was happening, but it appeared to him
to be a large solid mound bobbing up and down in the sea, it was moving quite
regularly, but it also seemed to be moving faster than any flotsam.
Black
Knight had sent over data but it was unclear to the Captain as to what to
expect. They had been told to ignore the civilian reports for accuracy. His on-
board VI computer was not making much sense out of the data either.
He
rotated his joystick slightly, tilting the fighter, banking the left wing to
point down at the sea to grant him with a better view, his fuselage camera was
automatically auto tracking the target, the dark blob was visible in the
distance and his plane was thundering towards it. He couldn’t rely on visual
identification at this time, on a clear day the sea, sky, sun and horizon could
all play tricks with human vision.
Sea
rushed past at a tremendous speed, he continued to reduce speed, easing back
the throttle as he neared the target.
His
fighter shot past the dark object, still at relatively high speed, his heart
was beating hard in his chest.
He
blinked a few times, recalling the image, of what he had just glimpsed, in his
head.
It
was utterly impossible. He shook his head slightly, opened his eyes wide and
blinked several times more. What he had seen, or what his brain had put
together, didn’t make sense.
He
banked to the right and accelerated.
“Zero-Alpha,
this is Echo One, target sighted, over,” he recorded on his tight beam radio.
There
was a slight crackle of the other channel opening from Black Knight.
“Echo
One, this is Zero-Alpha, confirm target description over,”
“I
am struggling to describe the target. It is a moving mound, it looks like a
large rock with dark wet seaweed or hair trailing behind, over,”
There
was a pause for a few seconds.
“Echo-One,
say again, Over?”
“Zero-Alpha
I am going in for another visual, unable to identify the object. It was moving,
it was a moving mound. It appeared to be moving up and down and also forwards.”
He
blinked recalling the image in his head, his brain was trying to process it.
“It
looked like a large moving animal, with dark wet hair trailing behind, I could
see large eyes, over,”
“Roger
Echo-One, keep the channel open and describe as you approach, send through
snapshot images as you make your approach, follow with video footage, over,”
“Echo-One
Roger, over,” the Captain responded.
“Echo-Two
maintain air cover, over,” Black Knight, as the tactical air coordinator,
instructed.
“Echo-Two
roger, over,” the other F-35 maintained its aerial vigil.
Captain
Conroy was struggling to comprehend and process what he had seen.
He
had been trained to rapidly process information, inputs and outputs and respond
accordingly, but what he had seen was not registering in his brain.
He
hadn’t said it but it looked like it was the top of a giant human head, but
that was surely impossible. That was what had been confusing him.
Whatever
it was, it looked alive. There was a pretty intense look on those eyes, the
look kept repeating in his mind.
He
started to think about various aquatic mammals, it reminded him of a large
walrus but with much longer hair.
No,
it wasn’t shaped like a walrus. It was much bigger than any walrus. It looked
nothing like a whale, he had seen plenty of those, including basking sharks…
Why
would it even be here?
He
had gained enough distance, executing a tight turn and pointing his nose back
in the direction he had come from. His fighter was now back on another
intercept path with the moving unidentified object.
He
dropped speed significantly as he flew towards the object, in the corner of his
eye he noted the video cam picking up the object and recording.
He
fixed his gaze on it directly, it was bobbing up and down, as if it was…
swimming… the object turned to look directly at his aircraft as it approached.
It
had long dark hair, and dark eyebrows and eyes… human eyes… staring directly at
him, a long nose below, and his F-35 thundered past again, leaving it behind.
His
heart was racing in his chest.
It
had looked directly at him, the stare had sent a chill through him.
It
had intelligence and focus about it.
It
looked like a huge human head and face.
But
that was impossible. It was definitely a living thing… was it… an alien?
He
clicked send on the images. Then started the submission of the video file.
“This
is Echo-One, visible contact made, it appears to be living, it looks like a
giant human head, I have not ever seen anything like this before, I have sent
over reconnaissance images, over,”
“Zero-Alpha
Received, await further instructions, do not make further contact, hold
position, out.” Black Knight closed the channel.
“Echo-One,
did you say human head, over?” his wingman asked from above.
“Roger,
human head, giant human head, it’s swimming, I could see a set of giant
shoulders beneath the water, over,” his wingman didn’t reply, he was absorbing
that information.
He
was either thinking that Captain Conroy had lost his mind or was wondering what
the hell was going on, whether this was some kind of strange training exercise.
“Hello
Echo-One, this is Zero-Alpha, slowly approach target with VTOL and record
images and video,” he noticed the object on his radar display had been switched
to red by Black Knight, they were now designating it as hostile or potentially
hostile. “do not engage the target, do not close more than one hundred metres
range, record visuals and report, over,”
“Roger
Zero-Alpha, Echo-One, Out.” The F-35’s were VTOL capable (Vertical Take Off and
Landing), they had the uncanny ability to hover in mid- air with reliable
stability. A technology inherited from the Harrier Jump Jet.
He
spotted incoming Typhoons on the edge of his radar, they were jetting at a much
faster speed than his F-35 was capable of and closing on his position.
Another
pair of Typhoons were presumably already intercepting and turning away the
waspish TU-142s. He knew they were out there to the south east, but they had
left his effective radar range.
The
carrier Queen Elizabeth was reporting that she was launching a further two
F-35s to provide aerial support.
Two
Royal Marine helicopters were also being reported as being prepared, he caught
it over the general chatter.
He
turned the F-35 in a tight wheel, his heart thudding in his chest as he
approached the target again.
He
really didn’t know what to think right now. He wondered whether he should
engage his weapons. They were only a flick away.
The
two Typhoon’s roared past over his left shoulder, causing him to jump slightly.
He
had known they were approaching, and he wasn’t the jumpy type, but his nerves
felt fragile all of a sudden. His brain was still processing what he had seen
and thinking about what he should expect.
The
delta wings of the Typhoons glinted in the sunlight, armed to the teeth,
studded with several air to air and air to ground and sea missiles. They
thundered away, banked hard and undertook their own flypast.
Damn
RAF flyboys were going to get no useful data at those speeds and they were just
going to piss it right off; whatever it was. Then he was getting sent to hover
nearby, great thinking Black Knight, he grimaced.
Captain
Conroy focused on his task, he could feel sweat building up on his spine, he
felt hot, it felt like a prickly heat. It was probably the adrenaline and
anticipation mounting on him.
He
closed to a kilometre and then adjusted the throttle to slow the speed right
down, the huge turbine engine rotated to engage in vertical thrust, enabling
him to hover above the sea and gradually approach the object under a very
controlled speed.
The
giant head, it definitely was a giant head, was bobbing up and down and
gradually approaching. It was looking directly at him, he felt his blood
chilling again. It was a terrifying predatory stare. It looked female.
The
head continued to bob up and down, the huge shoulders now visible above the
waterline, themselves rotating… it was a giant woman’s head. She was swimming
breaststroke; he could see her feet kick out behind, a huge hundred foot splash
of water behind every so often.
He
swallowed hard. This was impossible.
He
switched his weapon system to engage, the tracking to target told him she was three
hundred metres away and closing.
His
fighter continued to tremble under the vertical thrust, he goosed the throttle
slightly to bring him closer to the moving object and then settled the plane
down. He tilted the nose of his plane slightly downwards.
He
closed to one hundred and fifty metres, continuing to record with the fuselage
video camera.
The
giant head paused, looked directly up at him, it started rising out of the
water. He looked in amazement through the cockpit glazing, water reflecting off
her giant face, it emerged, he could see the detail of her face, her nose and
giant mouth.
Her
eyes were directed right at him, not just the plane, his cockpit… him…
He
clutched the throttle until his knuckle grew white.
“Zero-Alpha,
are you seeing this, over?” He asked over the radio, his voice trembling, his
heart thumping in his chest. He felt like he was a child, imagining how he
would have felt if he had come face to face with a fairy or Santa… except this
was a fucking giant person.
“Roger,
Echo-One, we are seeing very clearly, await instructions, maintain safe
distance, do not engage, over,”
The
giant mouth opened, she was saying something, he focused intensely. It looked
like she was mouthing ‘go away’ repeatedly.
A
wave of water appeared and he saw a blur as a giant hand emerged from the
water, it thrust upwards, it was too far away to be a threat, but what he
hadn’t considered was the airborne wave of water that the giant cupped hand had
just tossed in his direction.
“Move
clear Echo-One,” Echo Two warned, he was already gunning the throttle and
banking away. The wave covered his aircraft.
Water
splashed over the cockpit, fuselage and wings.
He
pushed the throttle forwards, turning away from the giant head.
His
chest tightened as he felt, then heard, the large turbine engine splutter.
His
wingtips wobbled uncontrollably as the turbine struggled to process the sudden
influx of water. It was designed to withstand waves, being a carrier- borne
aircraft, but it was not advisable. It was supposed to be resilient to spray
rather than actual waves. Every technology had a working limit and threshold.
He
gently eased off the throttle, the fighter dropped slightly in the air. The
engine spluttered further, choked, and then he increased power again, reverting
back to horizontal flight. The engine seemed to recover and allowed him to jet
away clear.
The
turbine turned the water into vapour and two coils of mist and vapour trails
followed his fighter for a few hundred metres as he sped away, clearing himself
from the potential threat.
The
last thing he wanted was to be the first in the Royal Navy to lose a new F35
and also ditch down in the sea near to this giant creature.
“Echo-One,
report, over,” Control interjected.
“Zero-Alpha,
Echo-One, contact, the giant… creature tossed a big wave of water at me, I had
to fly clear, I will return to approach, over,”
“Negative
Echo-One, maintain one kilometre perimeter from target and hold position,
undertake a full system check, if there are any risks return to Zero-Alpha-Charlie,
out.”
Captain
Conroy eased the throttle forwards and clicked to run a full systems
diagnostics, it was an automatic system which could run in the background with
the flight systems continuing to operate but it was not advisable to run the
checks during combat.
He
banked into a wide arc and activated the autopilot to hold the arc for a
kilometre diameter perimeter around the moving target at his current altitude,
maintaining visual contact, and allowed the system to run its avionics, weapons
and systems checks.
He
glanced up through the glazed cockpit canopy, his wingman was up there in the
sky at a much higher altitude but within a few seconds of striking range.
He
kept flicking his eyes back to the radar display to check that no further
intruders had appeared.
He
also caught several glints of sunlight on metal as the pair of RAF Typhoons
flashed at high altitude on their new patrol route. They were holding air superiority
with top air cover above the F-35s and the giant target.
He
glanced back at the progress of the giant head and large pink shoulders, it
continued to bob up and down as the giant body swam through the water.
He
checked his GPS display and the on-board computer’s calculation of her progress
and current line of movement. She must have been using the sun to navigate,
somehow she was strong enough to resist the currents of the water. She was
heading almost directly for Land’s End in Cornwall.
At
her rate of progress she would be there within an hour.
His
radio came to life in his helmet earpieces. "Echo flight, Echo-Three and
Echo-Four are joining you on patrol. Maintain your distance at one kilometre
from the target. Whisky-Hotel-One and Whisky-Hotel-Two are en route, await
further orders, out."
Two
more Joint Strike fighters were joining them from his squadron and WH-1 and 2
were tactical marine helicopters. It sounded like they were fully laden with
marines.
He
also noted in the general chatter that a Type 45 Destroyer and Type 23 frigate
from the Queen Elizabeth Carrier Strike Group were being tasked to sail on a
high speed intercept with the swimming phenomenon.
*
Detective
Peterson held his phone out in front of him, he had put it on speaker so that
Dawson could hear. They couldn't believe what they were hearing from their
contact in the RAF.
A
giant human looking head had been spotted in the water leaving the Island and
heading towards mainland England's south west coast.
A
number of fighter aircraft had undertaken flypasts and visually confirmed that
it appeared to be a giant human woman.
There
appeared, quite rightly, to be a huge amount of confusion as to how to deal
with the situation.
"Okay,"
Peterson finally replied. "Now that I'm on the Island let me know if there
are any other sightings or developments."
He
hung up the phone after the conversation and winced as a pair of Typhoon
fighter aircraft boomed past overhead. They were on the verge of breaking the
sound barrier.
He
frowned as his eyes followed their trails. Their delta wings flashed in the
afternoon sun, light grey arrow shapes in the sky, as they headed for the
horizon.
The
thin wings and tail were barely visible just two bright spots where their
turbine engines were blaring away.
This
was no joking matter; the British military was taking it all very seriously.
They were scrambling fighter jets and, he had been told, the most aircraft
being mobilised and airborne since the Cold War.
Peterson
was certain that the appearance of this giant woman was directly linked to the
mysterious organisation that he had been hunting for years and to their more
recent hunt for the missing Miss Katie Reed.
The
giant woman was heading away from the Isle of Scilly, where he now was.
Peterson
didn't believe in coincidences. Something had happened merely hours before he
and his team had set foot on the Island.
He
also wouldn't have believed in the scientific possibility of a giant woman, had
he not already witnessed the organisation's ability and technology to shrink
humans.
He
knew that Doctor Cook must have a facility here on this island somewhere.
The
RAF were currently undertaking a full audit of their GPS imagery and visually
and digitally combing the island.
This
giant woman had just appeared from nowhere; it seemed. It surely couldn't take
them long to locate the organisations' base now that they knew it was here
somewhere.
Dawson
was talking to the Sergeant of the local police force; Sergeant Daily. They were
now crowded around the bonnet of the Sergeant's marked Land Rover.
They
had a tablet screen out and were using 4G to review aerial maps of the Island.
"I
can only think of two places. Mile End farm and the Johnson farm; well it used
to be called that before his family sold it. Both of those estates keep to
themselves and people don't really know what goes on at either of them. They
don't have public footpaths through them, so there isn't much local gossip
about them."
"Can
you show me both on the map," Dawson asked the Sergeant.
He
scrolled over to show them Mile End Farm on the touchscreen. There was
livestock and various farm buildings visible. Not much to speak of.
Then
he looked at 'Johnson's' farm.
It
was a large estate house and some other cottages nearby on the same estate. A
bit further along there was a mound of grass with what seemed to be a large
barn doors on it.
There
was a wide tarmac road leading from this, along a road which was carved through
the estate leading to the cast iron gate entrance. This road then led to the
coast where there was a decked harbour.
"That
looks like a new road, looks very fancy for a farm don't you think? Since when
do farms need a dock on the coast? ... for fishing?" Dawson enquired.
"I've
never noticed that,” Daily furrowed his eyebrows, peering closely at the
tablet. “Not that I look on aerial photos much. They must have constructed that
a few years ago. I don't remember the dock being there. I recall there was a
large amount of construction plant shipped in. They were extending the basement
or something and they said that they were doing some flood alleviation works."
"I
can't see the flood alleviation work on these photos, but I can see a smart
looking operation," Sergeant Harvey commented pointing at the long and
wide tarmac road and a large number of solar panels on fields surrounding the
main estate house.
One
of the large roads led up to the large mound of grass. They could see the
contours on the aerial image.
They
tried zooming in but the image became a blur.
Dawson
zoomed out again and they scrutinised the image.
"Time
to pay them a visit I think," he stated looking up at the others. He
glanced over at the local Sergeant’s land rover and then back at him.
"Do
you mind if you take us there?"
"Sure
I'll try and fit it in with my busy schedule of helping farmers herd cattle on
the road… or finding moggy the lost cat," they all chuckled.
"Well
we wouldn't want to disturb your busy schedule," Dawson smirked.
"We
joke at the station and sometimes say that we would kill for there to be a
murder on this island. Just the one murder, mind..." Sergeant Daily
grinned, the others smiled but their smiles soon died when they saw Peterson's
sober expression and his very tired eyes looking at the aerial photos again.
"If
what I think is there, is actually there I think you will be wishing for just
the one murder. Let's go. While we're on the way I think we should put a call
into the local Building Control and Planning departments and see if this house
has any drawings for these ‘so called’ construction works."
*
They
arrived at one of the cast iron gates, sided by a large perimeter fence. But
the gate had been left open, but what was of interest was that the left leaf
gate had been bent outwards. Something incredibly powerful must have caused
that.
A
quick examination showed no foreign metal marks or signs of a vehicle impact.
They swiftly continued up the road. Soon they could see several vehicles strewn
on the side of the road.
They
were logistics trucks.
One
of them had been snapped entirely in half.
Another
truck was lying on its side nearby. It looked like one had collided with the
other, but at very high speed or power.
As
they proceeded along there were further vehicles that had been smashed up, it was
starting to look post-apocalyptic. There was nobody around and a quick check
confirmed that they were all absent of human life.
Peterson
started to suspect that they were witnessing the aftermath of an angry giant
woman. Two vehicles were lying together by the entrance to the large hangar
structure. The grass was scorched around them. They were charred. They had been
burning. Then they started to see human bodies.
There
were still some flames flickering over them but not enough to create much
smoke.
Perhaps
the Typhoons hadn't spotted all of this from the air yet.
Peterson
glanced at the hanger sized opening. To either side there was a sloping mound
of grass which covered the entrance and masked it from the air from all but a
few angles.
One
of the giant hangar sized doors had been ripped off and was several metres
away. The other was hanging from a single remaining hinge and severely twisted.
He suspected the giant woman was the culprit.
She
was clearly extremely strong.
He
felt a shiver run up his spine. He wouldn't want to be face-to-face with her
when she was angry.
There
were quite a few dead bodies near the entrance, they were dressed in tactical
gear and weapons were scattered around them. They were all wearing the same
type of tactical gear, no evidence of bodies from the other side of the
engagement.
"Thinking
we might be a bit out of our depth right about now?" Dawson asked from his
side, breaking the stunned silence between all four of them.
Peterson
glanced at his partner briefly, his eye bags were casting dark rings under his
eyes, he felt brutally tired. He rubbed his eyes.
Dawson
had a wry smile on his face. He always seemed to be able to read Peterson's
mind.
"Yes
I was actually," he looked around them, unsure of where to start.
The
smell of diesel fuel and burnt metal was pungent in the air, there was a
crackling sound from the small fires on the vehicles.
Fighter
aircraft rumbled in the distance; like a rolling thunderstorm.
"Time
to call in the cavalry I think," Peterson murmured.