JUNE 1, 2019
SOMEWHERE OVER THE CELTIC SEA

The big plane was surprisingly quiet, the flight steady and untouched by turbulence. They'd reach their destination in very little time. They had a good pilot up front, Major Carvalho thought with approval.

No one had really gotten to know each other yet- they had all been rushed to The Hague and thrown into an office building barely a week before, and each person had been so occupied with getting his or her responsibilities in order that there hadn't even been time for a casual chat with anyone else, let alone a beer at the pub. And now, suddenly, they were going to Ireland before they had even managed to get unpacked.

Carvalho's tablet chirped. He took a peek at it, nodded to himself as he saw the new email from headquarters. Perfect. The last thing he needed to brief everyone.

“Alright, listen up, everyone,” Carvalho said abruptly as he got up out of his seat. He turned on the intercom to the cockpit so the pilot could also hear what he was about to say. “You all know we're going to Galway, Ireland to assist there, but until now we haven't really known what we're getting into. Facts still seem to be scarce, but let me tell you what I can about the situation there.”

He ported the viewing screen at the front of the cabin to his tablet. On an ordinary flight, this might show movies to bored passengers. Instead, it displayed a still photograph. A sandy beach, peacful and idyllic- except for the series of perfectly round holes leading out of the water. A meter wide and two meters deep.

“Footprints, ladies and gentlemen, at the beach by the little town of Cathair. Taken two days ago. The tracks of something very big, with round feet and no toes. And something that is apparently very hungry.”

A new photograph came up, a scene of total carnage. A small rural pasture, the normally green grass stained red by blood. Tufts of wool and a few identifiable chunks indicated that this was all that remained of a herd of sheep.

“These footprints lead up to this paddock. Fifty-eight sheep dead or missing, torn apart and swallowed. By what, we don't know. It must have happened in the dead of night, no one saw or heard anything. The Irish police force, the Garda, was put on alert. Looking for sheep thieves, pranksters, god only knows what.”

The photo changed once more, this time to a Nissan Terrano painted in white and yellow. The vehicle had been cut completely in half, and dried blood covered the crushed hood. “This is one of the Garda patrol cars, found this morning on a country lane outside Spiddal. Two men inside, and both are missing. As you can see, the whole vehicle was cut completely in half. Not torn or bitten, ladies and gentlemen. Cut, like with some giant blade.”

The Brazilian frowned, then went on. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, you know as much as anyone else. We can safely assume it comes out of the water at night, and it seems dangerous. But with no witnesses, we can't say much else.

“The Irish authorities are keeping things quiet for now. They don't want a panic on their hands. The Armed Forces are being mobilized, but frankly they're not much. The Irish Air Corps operates no armed aircraft and the Navy is more of a glorified coast guard, so we'll be dealing mostly with the Irish Army. Now, I know you're thinking to me 'João, just splatter the thing with tanks and heavy artillery' but believe it or not the Irish Army has neither of those. So, they called us for help, because we're smart people who think outside the box, right?” He smiled, hoping the humor would cut some of the tension.

“So let's do some thinking before we touch down in Galway,” he invited the group at large. “All of our heads are better than one. So let's hear some ideas, some thoughts, whatever you guys have so we don't show up empty-handed.”

He opened a bottle of water and took a long swig, looking expectantly at the group.

Lorenzo sighed loudly as he was sitting in his seat relaxing and waiting. More or less anyway he was chewing on a toothpick he had (which he has like 20 of) in his pocket. It was a nervous habit he developed whenever he was working on his own project or in stress he chewed on one since smoking was a bad habit and not a good idea whenever you were working with experimental gunpowder for example. As he looked out the window he soon turned to see their fellow ally Carvalho start talking about the situation they were going to Ireland that much Lorenzo knew what he didn't know was the situation. Evidently their was a monster or something incredibly large the odd thing was the destruction that was left over. First it seems like something large was crushing the area around it but when he saw the vehicle that cut in half Lorenzo covered his mouth in shock. Most weapons cant get anywhere close to that clean of a cut besides plasma weapons you see in TV or in video games. Lorenzo put both his hands together and bowed his head "May they rest in peace" Lorenzo said before he looked at it from a scientific point of view. Its obvious that something large came through and while it could crush anything it had some sort of blade as well for slicing. Now their friend Carvalho wanted people to start brainstorming ideas when he said that they were the smart people that much was obvious so that made Lorenzo smile a little but now to think of a plan that doesn't require heavy artillery or tanks.

Lorenzo first idea was to try and see if this was an animal then could it be moved away like any animal. What if we treat this case as if we were trying to keep a dangerous animal away? If we could set up all available heavy light equipment we could flash them simultaneously to any human it would at the very least blind it or make it think that we are firing more shots then we actually have. That however is if we don't want to kill this thing. If we are looking to kill then I say we set up all available vehicles near the coast line and set up c4 to blow at once at the very least this would injure the creatures legs. This is all conjecture however since we have no idea what the creature looks like or if it has armor plates to protect itself from said explosives" Lorenzo said thinking that he had two good ideas having both a violent option and a non violent one so now all that was left was to see if any of the others could come up with better ideas...

The small cricket walked across the bare sand, its face making twitchy and quick glances every now and again. The sand underneath it began to twitch a little and the cricket leapt a few inches away. After a few seconds, all was calm again, the cricket having seemingly forgotten the incident, as it walked right over the twitching spot. Something scuttled out from under the sand the cricket ran for the walls, but it was too late. The creature was on it in seconds, biting it, before everything went black.

Huan Xiao watched the spider feed on the cricket in the small plastic box with pure interest. He had always loved the way spiders hunted their prey. Growing up in rural China, he had been exposed to large spiders at an early age, so he was pretty much immune to the baseline fear that most people have of them. This wasn't just any spider however: it was a Sicarius species, a six-eyed sand spider. They have one of the most toxic venoms known to man. It's too docile to bite people, but the venom is extremely necrotic and deadly. Huan glanced over at another vial he had. It was filled with extracted Ricin, which is a poison from a castor bean. And, sitting in a foam filled box, tightly shut with locks, was a combination of the two. It contained at least a litre of the stuff. 50 millilitres could kill several elephants. Who knows what a litre could do.

Huan had spent days and days in his lab, extracting the very worst parts from both of these poisons and venoms. He had several dozens of six eyed sand spiders, and at least 20 castor bean plants. Eventually he had extracted enough, and then he had then atomically combined them. Huan was very tired, but very proud. Could he have done it? Could he have found something which could kill, or at least heavily slow down a Kaiju? The tricky part, however, was the delivery of the poison. He had spoke with a few engineers and they had provided him with two methods, and a few prototypes of each.

Huan heard Major Carvalho speak about the situation. When he saw the picture of the car, cut in half with the blood, he couldn't help but look away. These men probably had families. They were probably grieving, and Huan definitely knew what it was like to lose a family member to something so out of control, something so out of anyone's control. He heard the Puerto Rican speak, and he was pretty impressed at the fact that people were already forming complex plans. He stood up and spoke in fluent, but accented English.

"For several days I have been working on creating a venom which could be useful against the Kaijus, and I am pleased to say that I have hopefully completed that part." Huan lent down and grabbed a pair of tongs, and lifted the combined venom bottle out of the box. "This substance is an atomically bonded mix of Ricin and the necrotic venom of a Sicarius species spider. Therefore, it has the pure toxicity factor, and has an extremely necrotic edge. You've all heard of hobo spiders, or brown recluse spiders correct? Now imagine the venom of one of those, but several times worse. Now you have the venom of the Sicarius. Anyway, now I propose two delivery systems. One is safe but has a high chance of failure, the other is dangerous but with a low chance of failure. The first method is to drop a kind of molotov cocktail filled with the substance into the creatutes nostril or mouth. The second is using crossbow bolts which are infused with the venom. With the second option, we would need someone on the ground to shoot the beast. Thank you for your time." Huan sat down and placed the bottle in the box, before waiting for everyone's reply.

The Boeing 767 was, by Flight Lieutenant Snow Knight's standards, both cumbersome yet smooth at the same time. She knew that several of the craft had been made for military purposes; Early warning craft, however she would have liked to be in a Tornado F3 whizzing around at amazing speeds with a full compliment of weapons rather than in this unarmed bucket. A bucket carrying her colleagues.

Snow didn't know what to think of her colleagues, she hadn't really the time to actually associate herself with them. Sure, maybe she had been moved into the same office building as them, however it hadn't helped that UNKEO was such a new organisation and recruiting to fill their ranks. Every time Snow went to throw some new things at her office space she was confronted by more people needing her. For some reason it seemed that UNKEO, with it's own set of junior pilots and crew coming in, decided that she of all people would be the one to call every time the junior pilots got into trouble. She didn't know whether she was at the top of the yellow pages or some idiots thought the higher the rank the better to scold the troublemakers, but she was no company sergeant. She had to admit perhaps an officer scolding the enlisted was more intimidating than an NCO, however it wasn't her job unless they had really screwed up, which she had encountered several times in her RAF career.

She turned most of her attention to the briefing as it went on, subconsciously piloting the Boeing as it got closer to their destination. She pulled and flicked some switches before grabbing the handle of a tablet and pulling it down so it was part of her right side vision, the majority of her vision still focused on the outside of the craft while occasionally flicking to the screen and paying attention to the briefing. Boeings didn't usually carry pull-down tablets like that in the cockpit, however in her second day in the office she had ordered a tablet and arm for herself so she could pay attention to the briefings, after she realized that she'd be in a few of them.

Finally, she and her colleagues were asked for suggestions, and she obliged. "I'm assuming we've already tried the RAF, or else we wouldn't be having this discussion," Snow begins, holding the intercom to her mouth. "I've got little suggestions, but perhaps we can somehow weaponize the aircraft of the Irish. It shouldn't be that hard to quickly manufacture some bombs, I mean, they have to have explosives, right?"

Dirk listened intently throughout the briefing, as well as his colleagues contributions to the discussion. Though he was absorbing their conversation intently, he appeared to be staring engrossed into a tablet, white light dancing across his defined features. When there was a distinct pause in the conversation, he looked up and cleared his throat as he scanned the faces of his comrades. One of the older men on the team, he appreciated the young blood brought by both their resident chemist and pilot. He spoke, gently at first, "I'm afraid my talents are far more reactive than proactive. Unlike most of you, I won't be of much use until I can see our creature in action." Dirk began, his surprisingly deep and gravelly voice still carrying a light German accent.

Taking another moment to survey those around him, eyes lingering on the vial of poison held by Huan. "However, I can still offer my own ideas as to our solution. Firstly, what we are dealing with. As history seems to show in regards to our unfortunate monstrous visitors, they tend to model themselves at least partially in similarity to real life animals we have already populating our planet. Giant lizards, mosquitoes, octopi, et cetera. Now from that photograph of the footprints left behind, we can make a guess as to the nature of our friend." He said, pausing to clear his throat again. "From the spacing and number of prints, we can tell the creature is likely eight legged. This, coupled with the nature of the footprints as well as the use of some sort of blade, means we're probably dealing with some form of giant insect." He said, raising one hand in a clawed gesture, fingers waggling for emphasis.

"That being said, the creature likely has an exoskeleton, so I wouldn't count on explosives doing significant damage unless in ridiculously close proximity. Even then, with something on this scale, not likely a perfect deterrent in low quantities." He said, his grey eyes focused on Lorenzo. He turned to Huan, eyes narrowing in thought. "While the toxin sounds very promising, do be careful in your delivery system. If our 'molotov' is missed, somebody somewhere is going to have a very bad day. There's a reason chemical warfare is frowned upon, comrade. Still, toxin will likely be a powerful ally in our fight. I'm afraid in the little research I did while you were talking I was unable to find whether or not your toxin would affect an insect quite as well as a mammal. I'll trust you have that knowledge covered." He said, raising his eyebrows. He considered going on to discuss the pilot's idea, though he felt he had covered it in his words addressed to Lorenzo.

"Though far from perfect, here's my personal input on the situation -Our 'kaiju' is eight legged, amphibious, and nocturnal. Should it follow real world convention like many of our past visitors, this would likely signify a cold-blooded creature, quite possibly an insect. As such, my proposed solution is to freeze it -if we can somehow obtain rather large quantities of liquid nitrogen or some other artificial coolant and expose the creature to it, we can at the very least make it more docile in order to either capture or execute it. Of course, this is all reliant on the assumptions I made at the very beginning. This creature could very well be something completely alien in regard to what we know." He said, shuffling to stuff his tablet into a messenger bag at his feet. He looked up after finishing, pupils flitting from person to person as he made eye contact one at a time, searching for some feedback on his plan.

Gordon sat next to the window as the plane lurched beneath him. He watched the clouds pass and tried his best to ignore the babbling behind him. That is, of course, until the Brazilian man stood up to brief them. At last, Gordon thought. He was grateful to finally have some reason for being on this plane — especially as it was headed straight for his homeland.

The pictures made his heart sink. Yet, he couldn’t help but stare at them. The grief he felt was swallowed back behind a stoic face. The weapon that hung at his hip suddenly felt heavier than usual, as if it were reminding him, hey, don’t forget I’m here by your side.

People offered up potential solutions one by one like a symphony of instruments trying to outdo one another. Gordon took in a long breath, contemplating the options. Above him, in the compartment hold, was a piece of experimental tech jostling around in a black suitcase. It wasn’t specifically designed to shoot liquid nitrogen, but it might be able to be recalibrated if given enough time.

“Perhaps,” Gordon said, clearing his throat. “We should look into the options given to us by our German friend here. He has a point. Bugs can be quick, and I don’t doubt that this thing, whatever it is, will thrash around. That sort of thing makes for a difficult shot no matter how skilled the marksman. However, if we were to make an effort to freeze it and slow it down, we might be able to deliver the toxin in a more precise manner. It’s more risky, but more safe…

I might have something we could use, perhaps. It all depends on what this thing looks like when we get there.”

Almost unnoticed towards the back of the passenger cabin, curled up and half-asleep, Chaim Abergil raised his hand. The thin Israeli stood up, brushed some dust from his Fire Service uniform, and spoke in accented English. “I don't know much about military strategy, I was only a private in the IDF,” he said without preamble. “I just have a couple things to add.” Abergil pointed at Lorenzo. “Getting powerful floodlights will be easy. Any decent-sized fire brigade will have rigs mounted on trucks with their own power supply. We can borrow some from the locals, and if need be we can ask other cities to lend out equipment. If we keep these floodlight trucks fueled and ready we can rush those quickly to the scene of an incident. So there's a quick, cheap, and practical way to put that plan into action.”

Chaim waved vaguely in the direction of Dirk and Huan. “These gentlemen suggested poison and liquid nitrogen. Those also sound like good ideas, but I want to note we must take serious precautions if we intend to use either of those weapons, especially in a built-up area. God forbid we have to fight this thing inside city limits, we must first drive it out of town or at the very least to a large open space like a park or railyard before we try to use such weapons.” His point made, Chaim said nothing else. He abruptly sat back down in his seat, propped up his feet, and closed his eyes. The plane rocked as it descended, only a few minutes away from landing.

Major Carvalho had been taking notes on a legal pad and nodded, obviously pleased with the brainstorming session. “Alright, so we're going with the theory that it might be some sort of amphibious insect. As far as weapons go we're advancing the ideas of bright lights, liquid nitrogen, and our own Ricin-Sicarius poison cocktail. I think Huan's little mojito recipe has the best chance of killing the thing outright, but as Gordon noted we have to get it to stand still first.” He ticked through the items on the list. “We could also try arming a few Irish aircraft somehow, or asking for British assistance. I don't know if that last one would go over so well, no Irish politician would be willing to put British troops on Irish soil. There was some trouble about that last time. But it's still worth suggesting.”

Carvalho rocked on his feet, nearly losing his balance as the plane's landing gear bounced off the runway. He chuckled sheepishly as he sat down and buckled himself in for the landing. He adjusted the creases of his fatigues, checked his boots, and finally reached into his bag and extracted his light blue United Nations beret, putting it carefully on his shaven head. He wanted to make a good first impression.

The big plane taxied to a halt on the runway, well away from the main terminal of the Galway airport- their arrival was being kept quiet. The team had to carry their gear down a metal stairway held up to the plane.

Not that no one was there to meet them, though. A handful of people- bureaucrats, Gardai, and soldiers. All of them answered to one man, a tall and aristocratic man in the uniform of a brigadier general. He was turned out smartly for the occasion in dress uniform, with a perfect regulation tie and gleaming Sam Browne belt. Next to the brigadier, Carvalho felt extremely underdressed in his duty fatigues. As if to compensate, he made his salute especially crisp. The general seemed amused by the gesture.

“I'm Brigadier Christopher Mahon. We greatly appreciate you coming out on such short notice.” He gestured to some of the enlisted men standing nearby, who eagerly moved forwards and began to assist the team with their gear and luggage. “It's only an hour to sunset, and we expect there to be another attack somewhere along the coast tonight. So please, let's move quickly.” Mahon briskly walked towards waiting cars, still talking in a rapid-fire tone. “We've got laboratory and workshop space available for your personnel at the University, and our military headquarters is at Renmore Barracks just outside town. We're sending out land and air patrols from there tonight, so if you'd like to join one of those you'd be more than welcome. We won't have any naval assistance until tomorrow night- most of the fleet is either involved with peacekeeping efforts or keeping cocaine smugglers from getting into Dublin Harbor. Or, if you prefer, we've booked you rooms at the Radisson downtown if you would like to rest.” Mahon gestured towards the waiting Army sedans. “Just let the drivers know where you'd like to go.”

As the Boeing edged closer and then started to descend toward the airport, Snow called to the tower, placing her landing request along with the necessary codes to allow her to maneuver toward the meeting position. For a poke of fun, she only announced that they were landing after the plane had it's first jostle of descent, picking up the intercom and speaking into it. "This is the lieutenant, 'cause there ain't no captains on my plane, we are now descending for landing. Please put your seatbelts on and secure all tactical nuclear devices and thermite bombs in their holders."

Once on the ground, the Boeing taxied toward the meeting spot. She made sure not to run anyone over as she parked the aircraft. "Thank you for flying with Knight airlines. Please take all personal belongings with you as you exit the aircraft, I've once forgotten and I assure you it is not fun getting them back." She nabbed her tablet before exiting the aircraft.

Once outside Snow listened to Brigadier Mahon attentively, taking note that he mentioned there were air patrols being sent out, but also that there were rooms booked for them. She was torn between two sides, either going out with the air patrols or sleeping, however she knew where her heart wanted to go. She leaned forward, whispering behind Carvalho's ear, "I'll be joining the air patrols. Call me if you need me." She turned on the spot and started her trot toward the sedans, climbing into one before requesting the driver to head for where the military aircraft were stationed. She had only partially lied to Carvalho, and she wouldn't be surprised if he already knew that she wasn't going to just be joining the air patrols, but she would most likely nab a helicopter and fly around on her own, on her own patrol routes. Rank had it's privileges.

Dirk grimaced slightly as the plane shuddered to a descent. As the pilot spoke, Dirk took care to not roll his eyes. Never a fan of the joker type, Dirk preferred to keep the company of more serious companions. Always sounded like they were trying too hard. As he dismounted the plane, he gathered his belongings -most of which fit within his messenger bag, his only exterior luggage was under a cover towards the back of the plane. Dirk reached up to pull off the cover from the shiny metal container, and a wide smile spread across his face. Beneath the musty cover was a shiny sterling sliver cage, from within which a soft rustling could be heard.

Dirk pulled a leather armguard from within his messenger bag, and strapped it onto his right arm, over his suit jacket. His smile faded slightly as he crumpled the fine material of his suit, but the feeling passed quickly as he opened up the cage. Dirk held his arm far out to the side, and let the iridescent door swing free. From within, a flurry of black feathers writhed, scrambling for purchase anywhere. Wings flapping excitedly, the crow finally settled on the arm of Dirk, head flicking from side to side as it took in the environment. He turned to exit the plane with the bird on his arm, as he softly hummed a short tune of four notes.

He nodded briefly as he listened to Christopher Mahon, thinking through his options. "I think, perhaps, that my skills would be best put to use in one of the patrols. I believe Beatrice would be more agreeable to one of the land patrols, if that could be arranged?" Dirk said, nodding to his bird as he stepped off to the side. "I don't believe I would be of much use in a lab, unless one of you needs use of my biological or psychological expertise?" He added, leaving the question rhetorical and open ended. He had the feeling that none of them would take him up on the offer, but he left it open for them to decide. He took a brief look around to the others, taking note of the pilots decision to join the air patrols.

Dirk took long strides as he walked over to one of the sedans, back straight with eighteen years of having posture drilled into his head. His arm was held high up to his chest, almost like a cartoon mockery of a butler simply with a crow replacing the stereotypical cloth. All the while, Beatrice stood at attention, infrequently shifting her feathers or taking darting glances around at the scenery. Beady black eyes focused on whatever shiny objects nearby she could see, but quickly diverted. Dirk paused just next to the sedan, turning his head in case any of the others requested his assistance. Otherwise, he would simply go to the Renmore Barracks to join one of the patrols.

Lorenzo sighed loudly as his plan for rigging some trucks with explosives was shot down however his plan for floodlights was agreed on with everyone so that was something that he could work with. He made sure to put on his seat belt as he braced for the landing and once he landed with the others he saw the man in charge as he explained what they had to work with. Since the others would be working on their own issues Lorenzo needed to set up the floodlights in case they have a chance to simply scare the creature like any other animal would with blinding headlights. Lorenzo saluted as he was trained to do the Brigadier Sir, I need you to get whatever men you can spare and have them get as many floodlights or whatever can give a huge flash to help set up around the perimeter near where we expect the beast to show up. I am setting up for a non violent way of deterring the beast without wasting lives or destroy anything in the city if it works then we will figure out a crucial weakness in the beast." Lorenzo said as he put his hand back down and went toward his own ride and ordered the man to take him to where they expect the beast to show up. Lorenzo had to figure out the best pattern to set up their lights...

"I was unable to find whether or not your toxin would affect an insect quite as well as a mammal. I'll trust you have that knowledge covered."

Huan smiled as the German posed his question. Huan spoke: "Thanks for your query, and I am glad to say that the toxin will work fine on the insect just as well on mammal. We can see this by looking at our cricket friend here." Huan held up the small plastic box. The cricket was frozen in a struggle, as the spider enjoyed its meal.

When the plane began to descend, Huan fastened his seatbelt and prepared for landing. He was insanely nervous, despite his confident demeanor. He watched out of the small plane window over the beautiful countryside. Huan felt angry that something so ugly, so horrible, was destroying such an amazing thing. Huan would do his best to stop all the kaijus, he vowed that long ago.

The plane landed and Huan got out to stretch his legs. He greeted Brigadier Mahon when he saw him. Huan was exhausted, and he already had everything he really needed. Maybe he could work on the delivery system tomorrow. Right now, he just wanted to rest. He got in one of the cars, and asked to go to the Radisson.

The Irish troops moved quickly and efficiently, bundling each team member into a car and rapidly bringing them to their desired location.

@datadogie

Knight had the shortest trip of all of them- the Flight Lieutenant was only a few hundred yards away from two green-painted AW139 helicopters. She was met by a Lieutenant- Krawczyk was the name on his flight suit- saluting with just a hint of sarcasm. No Irish airman would be thrilled to have a Briton tell him his job. “We were told the Flight Lieutenant might prefer to fly her own patrol,” Krawczyk said, with a gesture towards one of the waiting helicopters. “I know this coast well, I'll act as your navigator. And your door gunner, if it should come to that,” he said with a pat on the FN machine gun positioned on the starboard side.

@R31GN

Carvalho nodded as he heard Dirk volunteer for one of the land patrols, then immediately stepped forwards. “I'll ride with Dirk,” he said. Carvalho felt at least somewhat responsible for the safety of the civilians on his team. That, and he would feel more comfortable giving military advice if he had at least one scientific expert at hand should they actually run across the mysterious giant. Brigadier Mahon nodded, then got in the car with the two men for the ride to Renmore Barracks. It was a brief ride- twenty minutes perhaps- but one marked by silence. Carvalho sensed the stress that the Brigadier was feeling, the weight he was under.

The Brigadier only spoke once, as they crossed through the gates into Renmore, passing by numbers of cocky, uniformed youths, excited by the challenge of going out to fight an unknown enemy. “They're good lads, and they'll do their best,” Mahon said quietly. After the long silence, Carvalho nearly jumped at the older man's words. Mahon sighed, rubbed his iron-gray hair. “I just hope I can bring them all home.”

The car pulled to a halt, and Mahon immediately donned his cap and stepped out of the vehicle. “O'Sullivan!” he bellowed at a passing sergeant, decked out in full combat gear. “These two gentlemen will be accompanying you. Show them every courtesy.”

O'Sullivan gave a gap-toothed smile and salute. “Right, make yourselves comfortable,” the sergeant said, opening the back door of a RG Outrider patrol vehicle for them. A few confident, grinning Irish troops made room for them. “I pity the kaiju that comes across this lot!” O'Sullivan said with a breezy laugh. Doors slammed, rifles were loaded, and the convoy of two Outriders roared out the gate of Renmore. Carvalho loaded and checked his Taurus sidearm, knowing in his heart the 9mm handgun wouldn't be enough.

@Jangel13

Chaim Abergil perked up his ears at the conversation. The Israeli had liked the idea of the lights, and walked over to Lorenzo, pressing a Motorola radio into his hands. “Lorenzo, right? If you find good places for lights, just give me a call. I'm going to try and round up lighting rigs for you, just tell me where to send them.” With that he walked over to another car and had it take him into the city and fire department, where he would take stop of emergency prep and try to find powerful spotlights. The Brigadier ordered several other men to also begin rounding up floodlights, they scattered in vehicles to procure lights from wherever possible.

The Irish soldier drove Lorenzo out of the airport and deep into the beautiful Irish countryside. The sun was just setting they reached the R336 road on the outskirts of town- maybe a fifteen minute drive from the city center. The roar of the ocean touched Lorenzo's ear, just as the taste of salt on the wind did. “Our best guess is somewhere on this coastal highway,” Lorenzo's guide- Private Donlon- offered. “The first attack was in Cathair, the second in Spiddal, further west.”

It was getting dark quickly out in the sticks as Donlon slowly began driving, letting Lorenzo take in the countryside.

@KaijuBaragon

Soliders took Huan Xiao's luggage (though not without a worried look at the warning labels on the crate containing the toxin) and loaded it into the car, reaching the hotel just after sunset. The Radisson was clean, modern, and comfortable, and the UNKEO had not skimped on their accommodations. Huan quickly discovered a large room booked for each member of the team, as well as a conference room for them to meet in. And with the UN picking up the tab, Huan was free to raid the minibar or order room service to his heart's content. The perks of fighting kaiju were manifold, it seemed.

THE DOCKS

O'Sullivan's convoy of two fighting vehicles hardly drew any looks as it passed through Galway. The citizens were accustomed to seeing military vehicles so near the barracks. However, as the Outriders passed by the historic Docks area, home to a bustling waterfront and nightlife district, they began to encounter crowds milling about in the streets. The sergeant swore as they were forced to stop by the growing crowd of rubberneckers who seemed to be coming out of pubs and homes as the sun slid behind the horizon. “What is all this?” he complained.

Carvalho peeked out. It seemed all the people were coming out to look at something out in the water of the harbor. He saw pointed fingers, uplifted cameras. Curious, he shifted himself over to better see out the window of the vehicle, then froze. “Que porra é essa?” he found himself saying, then immediately hoping no one understood his profanity.

Bright in the gathering darkness, visible under the green water of Galway Harbor, was two glowing yellow circles, moving lazily, indifferently, in slow and searching patterns. “Sergeant O'Sullivan,” Carvalho said quietly, “I would suggest you put a man up on that machine gun you have mounted on the roof of this vehicle.” He began to ease the Taurus out its holster, for all the good it would do. With a look at Dirk, Carvalho shook his head. “I think it liked the way those two policemen tasted. It's going for more people,” he said grimly.

The flashes of cameras increased in intensity outside, while a few of the more sensible rubberneckers turned and ran. The water of the harbor churned into a white froth, and a titanic black hulk began to rise like some new island. Rivers of water washed down from the thing as more and more of the body became clear.

Carvalho was struck by the size, the immensity of the thing. Of course, he knew kaiju were big, that was their whole point. But actually seeing one was different. It was black in color, covered in thick, bony plating. A squarish central body the size of a baseball diamond, supported by eight segmented legs. Glowing yellow eyes atop long and waving stalks, like flexible telephone poles. A horrible, segmented mouth, full of sharp bony mandibles but not teeth. And the claws, of course. Pincers, really. One was small, almost dainty at eight feet long, suitable for fine manipulation. The right hand pincer was the stuff of nightmares, though. Massive, curved, nearly the size of the creature's entire body at a full seventy feet long. The blades of the pincer looked razor sharp. Wincing, Carvalho thought of the Garda car that had been cut neatly in half- now they knew how it had been done.

“It's a crab,” Carvalho found himself saying to Dirk. “Of course, a giant, enemy crab.” He almost laughed, before he looked at the tremendous monster in front of him- the first kaiju he had ever seen. Carvalho had been shot at before, had grenades lobbed at him. But nothing had prepared him for this. The mandibles in the giant mouth worked, and a horrific clicking noise echoed across the streets of Galway.

The Irish soldiers gaped, the smarter civilians ran for it, and Carvalho grabbed for his radio, sending a message out across the UNKEO frequency. “This is Carvalho, all units please reply,” he gasped. “We have a confirmed sighting of the subject in Galway Harbor. Repeat, the subject is in a populated area.” Realizing he couldn't keep calling it “the subject” Carvalho searched his mind for an appropriate code word. “Subject is henceforth designated, uh, Fiddler.”

Fiddler's rolling yellow eyes finally seemed to fix on the crowd lining the waterfront, and the clicking sound of the mandibles increased in speed. Panic finally began to spread through the assembled crowd, and more than one person was knocked down in the rush for the nearest buildings. The safeties clicked off on the soldier's Steyr rifles, a belt was fed into a machine gun, a rocket was loaded into an antitank weapon. Twelve infantrymen up against this creature. Carvalho swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “I've got rifles, machine guns, and a few rocket launchers on hand. Not really sure they'll work, though. Please advise. Over.”

"Verpiss dich." Was all Dirk was able to say when he was met with the creature. Giant crab indeed. As his eyes came to rest on the bulking claw of the beast, his stomach churned, dinner no longer sitting well. He remembered the meal well -crab linguine. He mentally cursed himself over and over mentally for not thinking the monster would be a crab or similar crustacean. Truly the obvious conclusion given the data, Dirk had simply not made the connection. Dirk frowned in response to Carvalho's comment, almost reflexively muttering a response. "You attack its weak point for massive damage..." Even as an almost hopeless feeling sunk in when faced with such a massive threat, his mind raced for a solution.

As he thought, Dirk pulled a notebook out from his bag and quickly began sketching the Fiddler from every angle he had gotten a glimpse of. He kept his eyes trained firmly on it, watching for the slightest ticks and twitches in it's movement. He began to speak out loud along with his train of thought, mumbling in an accent that steadily progressed deeper and deeper. "Crabs, highly competitive. Crab mentality... no, no. We don't have another crab. Crabs... crabs walk sideways. Completely useless. Fiddler crabs use their claws to... what is it. Mating display? Okay, territorial burrowing crustacean. That means high aggression towards others, less aggression towards other organisms, hopefully?" Dirk thought aloud, asking himself more questions than he truly answered. "No, no other crabs to direct aggression to. None that I know of... could there be a colony? F..." He muttered inconclusively.

Dirk frowned, consulting earlier pages of his notebook. He flipped through hundreds of pages of sticky-noted pages before frowning and putting the notebook away. He pulled out a different notebook from his bag, and flipped to an appropriately marked page. His eyes quickly scanned the scrawled handwriting, frequently flicking back up to look at the crab. "Fiddler crabs... omnivorous... eats sediment, sifting it in it's mouth for the nutrients..." He muttered, reading over the brief notes. Unfortunately, he only had taken notes down on dietary behaviors for the many species he had detailed in these books. He pulled out his tablet, and quickly preformed a search through the scholarly databases downloaded to his tablet. "Attracted to light, can't survive in freshwater, territorial, ritualistic, competitive. All very useful if WE HAD ANOTHER GODDAMNED CRAB." Dirk said angrily, pounding his fist on his knee. Beatrice, already agitated by the presence of the Fiddler, gave a distressed caw at this gesture, ruffling her feathers.

"Okay, don't overthink this. The crab has found meat in a vehicle before, he may be tempted to do it again. Could we load a vehicle with explosives for the crab to eat? Bypass the armor entirely that way." Dirk suggested to no one in particular, his accent slowly fading as he calmed himself. "Or perhaps target the claw with whatever arms we have. Normal sized fiddler crabs have trouble keeping the big claw attached at the joint, the square-cube law can only make that harder for our not-so-little friend." To make up for his massive earlier blunder, as well as his general lack of preparedness, Dirk threw out whatever suggestions he could for the group.

Lorenzo sighed a little as he put his hand to his chin and started to chew on his toothpick its what he usually did when he needed to think of a solution to a hard problem. As they kept driving Lorenzo soon heard the call from Carvalho as he explained where the beast was and what was going on. which meant that he and his driver are in a different location all together farther from the docks where it actually came from. On top of that little fact it turned out to be a crab or fiddler as they were now calling it. He wished it was something more unique then just a giant crab since he was hoping for some sort of alien monster with a blade for an arm or something but this means that if he follows the beasts nature he could find a way to stop its rampage.

Lorenzo quickly told his driver to take him to where the docks were since he could still make it in time to direct the lights he could hear one of his allies talk to himself and mutter to the radio but what Lorenzo heard was perfect "attracted to light" which meant that his plan could in theory set the creature on a course out of the city itself. Lorenzo quickly got on the radio and started shouting orders I want a status report, how many lights do we have at our disposal?" Lorenzo asked hearing that they only have about 20 lights wasn't great but considering how much time he had for them to get the lights it was still a relief "here is what I want you to do. Get a 4 man squad set up with two lights at one of the buildings make sure it is 3rd or 4th floor and flash the lights quickly make sure you get the crabs attention. Then once you have the crab heading towards you have a different team set up in a building farther away to repeat the process. This thing is attracted to light so I want you to lead it out of the city with them. Once the crab has left the area of one of the lights make that squad take a position farther away to repeat the process. I want this thing following the lights out of the city" Lorenzo said soon hearing a 'yes sir' from the people that heard Lorenzo as they went to set up just as he said.

The first squad took position in a building nearby the crab and started to flash their lights. When one turned on the other was off and after a moment they would switch until they got the crabs attention on them...