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Contents

Cover

Title Page

Leave us a review

Copyright

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Epilogue

Acknowledgements

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GODZILLA VS. KONG – THE OFFICIAL MOVIE NOVELIZATION

Print edition ISBN: 9781789097351

E-book edition ISBN: 9781789097368

Published by Titan Books

A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd

144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP

www.titanbooks.com

First edition: April 2021

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

Copyright © 2021 Legendary. All Rights Reserved.

TM & © TOHO CO., LTD.

MONSTERVERSE TM & © Legendary.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

To Sandy Kay White

ONE

“Are you kidding? What can’t you do with it? Pharmaceuticals, bioweapons, food—hell, there isn’t a country or a company on the planet that doesn’t wanna get their hands on one of these suckers. I mean they’re basically living atomic weapons.”

Dr. Richard Stanton, Monarch scientist, on why anyone would attempt to steal the Mothra Larva

Sea of Okhotsk, Three Years and Two Months Ago

Manchaary Rybekov put his rifle back on safety as he watched the helicopter descending toward the oil platform. He exhaled a puff of white vapor into the freezing air.

“Put away your weapons,” he told his men. “I know who this is.” He gestured at Serj. “Go down and tell the gunners to be easy, too. But everyone stay on alert.”

His second, Proctor, sidled up to him, a bit of his unruly red hair peeking out from beneath his wool cap. “Who is this guy, Manch?” Proctor asked, dropping his pistol into one of his deep coat pockets.

“He is the money,” Manch replied. “Come to see what we’ve been doing with it.”

“Think he’ll be pleased?” Proctor asked.

Manchaary shrugged. The night, as usual, was cold but clear, and the three-quarter moon rippled light on the surface of the sea. In the distance, the mountains on the mainland were a ragged shadow against the starry sky. For the moment, this was all his. Eventually the Russian state would regain the wind it had lost in the Titan attacks and look back to its peripheries, where men like him had taken advantage of the chaos to carve out territory. In a few months, maybe. Not yet.

His little kingdom wasn’t all that large, but it was rich in oil, and he had managed not to kill the bulk of the workers on the rig, and even convinced most of them to join his “profit sharing” plan. Production was up, and he was making a decent return on the black market. But maintaining his territory cost money in bribes and military equipment, which cut into profits. A little discovery—well not little, really—beneath the waves had secured him help with both.

“I think so,” he said.

“And why should we care what pleases some banker?”

“Eventually we’ll have to give this all up,” Manch said. “We need to get everything out of it we can. We have something this man wants, and he’s willing to pay very well for it.”

“And then?” Proctor said.

“The world may settle back down; it may not. If it does, maybe we’ll move into some legitimate enterprise, eh? And this man can help with that, too. He has important connections.”

“And our cause?” Proctor asked. “What of that?”

“Causes need money,” Manch replied. He smiled at Proctor and slapped him on the shoulder, thinking that it might be about time for his second-in-command to have an accident of some sort. Things happened, out here. People fell off oil rigs all the time. Ten minutes in these waters was more than enough to bring about an untimely end.

The helicopter landed, and a man got out, followed by two more.

“Who is it?” Proctor said. “Some mobster from Moscow?”

“No, worse,” Manch replied. “An American businessman. He is to be referred to as Mr. Rosales. Understood?”

“Is that an alias? He some sort of superhero?”

“No,” Manch replied. “He’s just careful of his reputation around trash like you and me.”

They watched the man and his bodyguards draw near.

“You are Rybekov, I assume,” the man said. His smile was a crooked little thing. His heavy parka looked expensive—and brand-new.

“Yes. It’s good to finally meet you, Mr. Rosales.”

“It’s very brisk here, isn’t it?” Rosales said.

“It’s warmer inside,” Manch said. “Come along.”

“That sounds great,” Rosales said. “And as much as I would like to get to know you two and your merry band, I’m afraid time is pressing on me. So if we could get straight to the show.”

“Of course,” Manch said. “I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Don’t take offense,” Rosales said. “I’m sure you’re far too busy to spend your time entertaining me, as well. So let us skip the tea and board games and get right down to it. No one offended, no one insulted.”

“You think like me,” Manch said. “That’s good. Come along. As it happens, you came at

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