Bikini Kaiju - Ch 17

Washington watched The Borough burning with deep irritation. She’d figured just standing here in full view, in her combat shorts and vest, intimidatingly martial, would calm them down. It had, in small part, but not much. Swarms of people were moving from one street to another, in hoods and masks with petrol bombs and blunt weapons. Smashing windows, kicking cars, attacking each other. Small lines of police held a couple of positions, all this underfunded city had. Other civilians trying to avoid the trouble were stampeding away from the centre. The buildings were mostly new and frail, lazy brickwork or cheap concrete dens of low-rise shacks, spreading for miles, so no one was making much effort to stay put and defend their homes.

All this because that pretty Southerner and her slick backers were riling everyone up over fears of kaiju. It didn’t even make damn sense, but when enough news outlets repeated the nonsense that Sheerwolf and Queen Rat had sniffed out all this vice and decay, somehow that became the story people went with. And if everyone was calling The Borough a problem, seemed a good portion of them had just decided to live up to the accusations. And damn Pelican wanted her to stomp into the downtown and make examples of them. Any other city and she might’ve been tempted. Indianapolis, the new centre of commerce and power, for sure. But these were all people who’d been through a lot already, and a giant stomping on their friends wasn’t gonna make things easier in the long run. But she’d got more calls in her earpiece, the suits insisting, and then a jolt on the ring. Well, she’d complied over the past fortnight, biting her tongue, digging through the rubble of Freesco, helping move freight in the Gulf of Mexico, but this wasn’t something she was gonna do, and she made that clear enough by tossing the earpiece.

Things seemed to be quietening down, anyway, as the night wore on. Fires were lessening, emergency vehicles getting through. Just a little longer…

But heavy rotors announced a thundercraft flying in. Not just any craft, obvious from a long way off – it was the garish, flag-coloured pride of Sloane. Snarling unhappily, Washington took out her phone and brought up a video chat. She watched the thundercraft hovering carefully to land, as the others answered, all within moments, watching this news and waiting.

Ruth joined first, then Ramona, and even Viking Mary, the four Bikini Sentinels’ faces filling up the screen in segments.

“There’s the star of the hour,” Ramona said. “Are you inviting us to the party?”

“Something like that,” Washington said. “Their attack dog just arrived. I’m not inclined to let her trash this city.”

“They’ve already asked me to come,” Ruth said. “Is it as bad as they’re saying?”

“Hell no. Punks in the streets causing trouble, lot of people scared. Nothing that a Sentinel’s not going to make ten times worse. And forgive me but with all this hoo-ha, I do not see another kaiju on the horizon. Where you at?”

The thundercraft whirred down and its massive door opened for Sloane to step out. She smiled and waved Washington’s way.

“I’m in the air,” Ruth said. “Maybe twenty minutes out. I had a meeting with a reporter with some dirt on Pelican, but somehow keeping you company seems more important now.”

“I recommend you keep on flying right out of there,” Ramona said. The Sin Sierra had left the States the first chance she got after the so-called Strength Summit. They had shocked her a few times since, demanding she return and help rebuild, which hadn’t brought her back, but led her into hiding, with no reports of Ramona returning to her usual antics south of the border.

“Ms Washington, what seems to be the problem?” Sloane asked as she strolled closer.

“You tell me. Seems things are easing up, from where I’m standing.” Washington indicated the city, where the last pockets of resistance appeared to be quietening as the population realised a second giantess had arrived.

“My understanding is that there’s a militant organisation at large in this city,” Sloane said, fully serious. “Reports of NoTall rallying about their commander right beneath our feet here. These are unclean and dangerous streets, have been for a while, and they’re showing their true colours tonight.”

NoTall, there was a name that made Washington scowl. It’d been appearing a lot in the papers along with all this other crap: a supposed terrorist organisation hiding amongst the refugee cities. She wasn’t clear herself now who was at the head of this movement, or if they’d been especially active as much as a month.

“NoFly doesn’t command a hundred people, let alone a city,” Viking Mary scoffed, loud enough through the phone speaker for Sloane to hear.

“Yes they do – and is that Mary I hear? The Mary?” Sloane leaned around, trying to see the screen, and Washington moved it away from her. “I am dying to meet you, Mary! I know we could be the best of friends, and there’s no need for any animosity you might feel.”

Round-faced, always serious, with blonde braided hair hanging down past her ears, Mary called out louder, in her clipped Scandinavian accent, “Someone tell her to deactivate those slave rings they put on you, if she does not want animosity.”

“Yeah, how about that?” Washington said, holding Sloane’s eye.

“Not my call,” she said. “It makes the people feel safe, ain’t we been through this? And if y’all would kindly join me in stamping out this militia once and for all –”

“I’m not letting you set foot in The Borough,” Washington cut her off. “And I’ve got my girls as witness to that. Anything happens to me, you’ll have them to deal with next.”

Sloane’s smile was crooked, unpleasant. Washington could see how game she was for a fight, as usual, hidden just below the surface. There was an unspoken message, easy to read, that it didn’t matter what the others knew. They weren’t here. Nothing they could do.

“Europe will stand by you,” Mary said. “We trust Washington’s Fury judgement.”

“Shame it’s got shit all to do with you,” Sloane replied. “And what else? Gonna get us a trade embargo from Mexico, Ramona? Is Ramona there?”

“I’ll cross the border just to kick your ass,” Ramona said. “But I trust Washington to do it for me.”

Sloane raised an eyebrow to Fury, asking if she dared.

Washington growled. “You got no right being here. Leave this city alone.”

“I got no right?” Sloane put a hand to her chest. “I dunno about that, but seems a sure thing I got a duty. With the danger we’ve seen the past few weeks, the destruction, people feeling scared and unprepared, and here we are in a position to stop worse from spreading – and y’all want to protect this place? The people know it, it’s all they’re talking about, all they’re asking for. We’ve killed a few kaiju together now, but this city – this here’s a monster all of its own. Now I think that’s about all the yacking we need do on it, if you don’t mind me.”

Sloane turned to face the city, took a step towards it.

“You plan on just stomping those people, the same as you did in Yemen?” Washington demanded.

“Ain’t it an apt comparison?” Sloane shrugged. She went to take another step and Fury jumped to her side, hand on her elbow to draw her back. They locked gazes.

“I’ve done plenty of damage in my time,” she snarled, “but always in trying to prevent worse. Never where I wasn’t clearly needed. Not about to start now. This city is no monster.”

“No? Looks to me like it’s got Washington Fury herself conflicted over defending American ideals. That’s the kind of monster it is. Now I’m gonna find me a militia commander.” Sloane pulled her arm free and swung her booted foot through the nearest building, a plainly deliberately misplaced step. Washington pocketed her phone and brought her hand quickly up to catch Sloane by the shoulder, then pulled her back, twisting to drive a fist into her stomach. It was so fast the other giantess had no time to react, and she wheezed as the air rushed out of her, eyes bulging with satisfying shock. She dropped to her knees, one smashing into a road and the other landing on a truck, as Washington followed through with a downward punch. It caught her jaw and sent the giantess flying out into a field, smashing through the only house out there. Away from the city. Sloane gasped for air, struggling to push herself up.

“Stay down, you know what’s good for you,” Washington ordered, and distantly she could hear tiny cheers, maybe some celebration from her pocketed phone, maybe the people in the city. But Sloane didn’t stay down. She crawled to the side, staggering to her feet and turned to Washington with a red-faced, hateful expression, still recovering her breath. Yeah, they were doing this. The noise in the city behind Washington shifted, the last of the trouble dying as the word of their conflict rapidly spread. They’d be in their windows, on balconies and rooftops, gathering as a citywide audience to witness Washington smack down this angry white woman.

“That’s it, is it?” Sloane rasped, standing up. Her lip curled with menace. “You’re siding with the enemy? Gonna choose these terrorists over me?”

“Just doing what I’ve always done,” Washington replied calmly. “Standing up for the little guy. I recommend you walk away.”

“Now?” Sloane laughed. “At the point that I’m faced with another damn kaiju, this one masquerading as one of our own? Exactly as we predicted, the kind of danger these places have stirred. You’re making me sad, Ms Washington. But you sure ain’t scaring me off.”

“Stop talking shit and take your beating then,” Washington said, and damn, she was almost enjoying this. So long since she’d had a chance to really put someone in their place, and this was a woman who surely needed it.

Sloane sprang forward, no more warning, one fist coming high and the other low. It was a quick attack, definitely strong, but clearly indicated, easy for Washington to dodge, ducking to the side. She slid her feet wider, got hold of the woman’s passing upper arm and pulled down, driving a knee into her gut. Sloane took this blow better than the first, staggering to the side and stepping on another building, but she grunted with pain and flicked her foot out, scattering debris and sending a couple of bodies windmilling through the air. As she twisted around for another attack, Washington was already there and punched her chin, sending her stumbling. Easy. She came in for a finisher, ready to level this moron, but as her fist came in, electricity jolted her.

Washington shrieked as the pain coursed through her whole body, so sudden and harsh it made her fall, coiling in on herself. She shook violently and felt her kicking legs hitting nearby buildings, smashing them apparent as she struggled to regain control. The pain cut off as quickly as it’d come, leaving her twitching and quivering, and Sloane swept overhead, a giant shadow against the sky. The giantess placed a foot either side of Washington, triumphant as if she’d knocked her down herself. The ring. The fucking ring had paralysed her; Washington’s mouth was wet with foam, like she’d had a seizure.

“Night night, Fury,” Sloane said. “I’ll wake you when I’m done.”

Washington fought deep to regain her strength, to rise up, topple this bitch – but as she flexed in readiness, Sloane’s boot came up high over her face and she gasped as it came down, the giantess knocking out her lights with a fast, fierce stomp.