“Last satellite tracks had the MUTO continuing due east,” Petty Officer Martinez reported from her post. She glanced up at an accompanying image of Godzilla. “For the moment, it seems like the big one is following it.”

Serizawa corrected her. “Hunting.”

A theory was coming together in his head, which seemed to be supported by the latest data. Once again, Nature held the key. The monsters’ current behavior was consistent with basic biology.

“All vessels maintain current standoff distance,” Admiral Stenz ordered, overseeing the operations. He remained in command of the joint forces’ response to the crisis. “Map this thing’s current course and bearing and start compiling a list of all possible solutions that will allow us to interdict before these… whatever they are… make landfall.” His tone and expression were equally grim. “I need options.”

The backlit table continued to plot out potential courses for both creatures, constantly updated to reflect the most recent intel. Dotted lines headed for the western seaboard, with possible landfall sites including Vancouver, Seattle, Los Angeles, and San Francisco, as well as locations in Peru, Panama, and Argentina. There were too many possibilities over too great a distance, making it difficult to plan a defense against the monsters’ eventual arrival. Serizawa contemplated the ever-changing lines on the map.

Ford Brody is from San Francisco, he recalled. He wondered if the young lieutenant had finally made it home, after burying his father at sea. I believe he mentioned a wife and child.

“Sir,” Martinez said. “Based on the current tracks, all our models have the targets converging on the US Pacific coast.”

Stenz scowled. He turned away from the screens to consult Serizawa.

“Doctor, are we certain this is the same animal from sixty years ago?”

Serizawa suspected as much. “Remains were never found,” he reminded the admiral.

“But if the MUTO is his prey,” Graham began, calling Serizawa’s attention back to the printout of the wave pattern Joe Brody had detected, “this signal shows a call. Why call up a predator?”

Stenz and others present threw out possible explanations, with even Martinez chiming in with something about echoes or audio distortions, but Serizawa no longer had any doubts or questions. There seemed only one obvious conclusion.

“It didn’t,” he said solemnly. “The predator was only listening. The MUTO was calling something else.” His reasoning led him to another ominous hypothesis. “The pattern,” he addressed Graham urgently. “Focus our search on Nevada.”

The intensity of his tone cut through the chatter. Competing voices tapered off as all present gave Serizawa their full attention.

“Nevada?” Captain Hampton asked. “What makes you think—?”

Graham got there first. The blood drained from her face. “You don’t think it could be…?”

“Fill me in here,” Stenz said impatiently. “Why Nevada?”