Taunt the monster. Dinosaur-like, vicious, intelligent, verbal. A raptor, a tyrannosaurus, towering. Sent to attack your military post, an airfield with hangars and barracks. It's locked onto you, chasing you through doorways and buildings as you double-back on your winding path, leading it into an ambush you can control. "Why are there no female monsters?", you shout, hoping to infuriate the creature. "Because I am superior," it replies calmly, "created not spawned, designed for death." To your comrades you shout, "Helicopter doors! Helicopter doors!", as you back into a hangar space with waiting choppers, rotors spinning. That's your plan: you'll jump into a cockpit, nudge a chopper forward, rip the beast to ribbons with spinning blades.