Chapter 5
“You think this is a trap?” VanZant asked as we got on the escalator. He glanced back at the crowd behind us. “We’re about to put the world’s most experienced Hunters in one room.”
“That’s whatever room I’m in, John,” Earl Harbinger retorted.
“I’m just saying it’s a tempting target.”
“If it’s a trap it’s got to be one of the most convoluted things I’ve ever heard of. You think we’re gonna open the door and get pounced on by shoggoths?”
“Shoggoths don’t really pounce,” I said. “It’s more of a squishy lumbering motion.”
Earl had briefed VanZant and the other team leaders about the pattern we’d discovered earlier. “If this is an invasion, now would be a really convenient time to eliminate a shitload of the opposition’s brainpower in one move.”
Earl stroked his chin thoughtfully. “If that was the case, it’d be smarter to blow the whole hotel up. Get us all.” He looked down the escalator. Since we’d been toward the back we’d gotten out first. Just from our company I could see Julie, Cody, Paxton, Eddings, and Priest. That was a big chunk of MHI’s leadership. In addition, I recognized many familiar faces from today’s schmoozing, including owners and commanders from most of the different companies. Everybody wanted a piece of this puzzle. Say what you will about Hunters, we were a curious bunch. “You’ve got a point.”
“I was a soldier, Earl. I still try to think like one. If we’d caught this many Taliban honchos in one place I’d have dropped a mortar round on it faster than you could blink. Assuming I could actually get permission, of course.”
“Fair enough. Split off at the top. Stop every other one of our people. Hang back just in case.”
“Roger that,” VanZant nodded. “We’re the cavalry.”
Earl leaned in and lowered his voice. “Especially stop Julie. Tell her it’s my orders.”
“Why?” I asked. “She’s not going to like getting left out.”
“Julie stays outside. If it is a trap, I’m almost indestructible and you’re replaceable. If MHI lost her we’d be out of business in no time. She’s the only one of us that can negotiate a contract worth a damn.”
Sure, a chivalrous husband would’ve stuck up for his wife, but life’s too short to pick a fight with Earl Harbinger.
“Julie only gets the best contracts because she’s cute,” VanZant said as we reached the top. “The rest of us are a homely bunch.” He stepped off to the side and had disappeared into the casino’s crowds within seconds. It is easy to be inconspicuous when you’re short.
Room 212 had been one of the panel rooms earlier. The long table in front had been removed and someone had rolled in a television. The chairs were still in neat rows, with a single sheet of paper neatly folded in the center of each one. I picked one up. The photocopy only had a few lines on it. “The number ten million, a phone number and…” A bunch of numbers and letters.
“Coordinates,” Earl looked over my shoulder. “To the northeast of here.”
He was really good. “That’s what I thought,” I lied.
It wasn’t that big of a room, and our competitor’s leadership filled it quickly. Many of them appeared nervous. A few of the younger ones were trying to play it cool as they patted theirs sides to make sure their guns were still there. Most seemed curious. The older and more experienced Hunters looked annoyed, having gotten tired of playing games a long time ago. The big Pole from White Eagle squished in next to me. He was wearing way too much cologne. Many Hunters remained standing, and a few of our guys stood right next to the door.
The TV came on by itself, displaying a close-up of a deathly pale, very thin, totally bald man wearing persimmon-colored sunglasses and a white dress shirt that was nearly the same color as his skin. “Good evening, Monster Hunters. Welcome to Ick-mip.” Earl tensed so violently that my chair shook. I looked over to see that my boss’s teeth were clenched, his lips pulled back in snarl of hatred. “I am Mr. Stricken,” the TV said.
“You albino motherfucker,” Earl growled.
Stricken smiled. “Pleasure to see you too, Mr. Harbinger.”
That confirmed a few things. Stricken was on a live feed, we were on camera, and they knew each other. The sunglasses swiveled to the side as Stricken studied something. “Before I continue, please shut off all your electronics and recording devices…Yes…Third row…Ms. Kim. Shut it off temporarily or I shut you off permanently. If I see so much as an electrical blip in that room it’ll put me in a really foul mood. And please close the door.” Stricken appeared to be watching another screen. “Were you born in a barn? Shut it or this meeting is adjourned.”
I turned to look. Cody was closest. Our New Mexico team lead hesitated. He was an old friend of my father, the man that had saved my brother’s fingers, and one of our wiser, more experienced, and cautious men.
“This isn’t a trick. If I wanted you dead, I would’ve poisoned your breakfast…” Stricken said as he looked to the other side and read something. “Which was a jalapeño omelet at Denny’s at six forty-five this morning. Well, you’re an early riser, Mr. Cody. Now close the door. I will not tell you again.”
“Do it,” Earl ordered. Cody pulled the doors closed.
“Thank you.” Stricken launched right into his message. “At twelve hundred hours today there was a monster-related event in a small town in northeastern Nevada. Due to the isolated nature of the location, law enforcement officials didn’t discover the aftermath until a few hours ago. The scene has been contained, but the MCB was only recently made aware and has gone on full alert.”
So that was what had interrupted Stark’s speech.
“How bad?” a man that looked suspiciously like Buddy Holly asked.
“Ten confirmed dead, fifteen missing, Mister…” Stricken’s head shifted to the other side as he studied a different monitor. “Wylder, Team TALON…Heh…That’s a clever acronym. Allow me to clarify, Mr. Wylder. It was a more of a truck stop with some trailers around it than an actual town, but it’s gone now. Those not ripped limb from limb vanished without a trace. We’re not sure exactly how many, because the containment team is still finding pieces and trying to figure out which pieces go in which body bag. Do not interrupt me again.”
A young man sitting a few rows ahead of me stood up. “Who are you?”
Stricken waited a moment for the information to load. “Pierre Darne…I knew your father. You take directions as well as he does, as in not at all. What part of ‘don’t interrupt me’ did you fail to grasp? I know there’s a language barrier here, and English is your third language, but I’m about to offer you a very lucrative business proposal, so you can either sit your ass down or get the hell out of my meeting and wait for the official MCB press release.”
Darne reluctantly returned to his chair.
“I represent a special, multi-agency task force within the United States government.”
Earl snorted.
“We would like this particular issue dealt with as quickly and quietly as possible. The provisional PUFF bounty for this particular one-of-a-kind entity is listed as the first line on the sheet left on your chair.” I looked down at the $10,000,000.00 and gave a low whistle. “For our foreign friends in the audience, those are American dollars, which must come as a letdown to those of you still collecting bounties in pounds, but at least they’re not pesos. If you go to the PUFF website you’ll see that this new bounty was posted in the last fifteen minutes with all of the applicable information to be filled in later.”
The big Pole leaned across me to ask Earl, “Is he telling truth?”
“He’s from the government, all right,” Earl said, which didn’t really answer the question.
“Some of you may be wondering if this is legitimate. Understandable. When this meeting is over I’d like everyone present to check their personal bank account. A good faith payment of ten thousand dollars has been placed into each to compensate you for your time. Think of it like a gift basket, only without the mixed nuts. But more importantly, you will be able to confirm that the money was wired there by the United States Treasury’s Perpetual Unearthly Forces Fund. That should confirm I am who I say I am.”
He hadn’t really said who he was at all, but if this Stricken could get the PUFF to move that quick, the dude had some pull. Getting them to process something as simple as a zombie kill required processing reams of paperwork.
“More importantly, my task force has oversight over the requests for proposals on several new, very lucrative US government contracts. You heard the new MCB director. I’m talking about several worldwide markets, too. Whichever company manages to complete this particular assignment will…let’s be honest, win many of these contracts.”
That caused a stir. Big government Monster contracts were always worth a fortune, with a company being paid merely to be on call in case something happened at a certain facility, which rarely did. For example, MHI had a contract with the Department of Energy for a few of their sites, including one contract at Los Alamos that dated back to the forties, interrupted only while we’d been shut down. To any Hunting company, contracts like that were like an endless cash dispenser, and when they did come up, the competition was fierce.
Being the accountant that I am, I turned to Earl excitedly. We were talking about astronomical sums of money, but the look in his eye told me that none of that sounded in the least bit appealing to him.
“What is the monster?” the German, Lindemann, asked. Stricken looked to his monitor. “I will save you the time, Mr. Stricken. Klaus Lindemann, Grimm Berlin. We get the point. You are well informed. I too, enjoy being informed. So please, do tell us what is the nature of this creature?”
Stricken smiled, and there was something inherently wrong about that expression, like the muscles of his gaunt face weren’t used to making friendly shapes. “Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Lindemann. The threat is of an unknown type and number. There are no witnesses. The only intelligence we have is where it last struck, the coordinates of which are on your sheet.”
The German spoke for all of us. “It would seem that if the type is unknown, then this bounty seems suspiciously excessive. Normally, such a payment is reserved for the most lethal of beings.”
Stricken’s smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “Like I said, your reputation precedes you. So full of annoying questions…Participate or not. Your decision. The rules of the contest are as follows. Whoever kills this thing first collects the money, wins a bunch of contracts, and gets to brag that they’re the best. I want it dead and I want it dead now. I do not give a shit how you do it as long as it gets done fast. The rest of you can cry about it to each other in the hotel bar later. When it’s dead, call the provided phone number and everything will be arranged.”
“This is not fair,” shouted one of the Europeans. “We were not allowed to bring most of our equipment into the country!”
This time Stricken didn’t even bother to look up the man’s name. He pointed at himself. “Does this look like the face of a man who gives a flying fuck about the concept of fair? Improvise, asshole. The world’s biggest arms expo is being held down the street. You’ll think of something. What the hell are you waiting for? The clock is ticking.”
The Hunters looked at each other, confused.
“What’s wrong with you? It’s a race. Act like it!” Stricken shouted. “Go!”
Uneasy, several of Hunters rose. The early standers sized each other up, wheels turning, because no matter who you were, ten million dollars was a lot of money, and to some of these smaller companies, a single decent contract could guarantee their future, and so the rush began. Several of the Hunters went for the exit at the same time in a big ungainly clump.
“Monster Hunter International, stand down,” Earl said with the utmost calm, knowing that every one of his people would comply instantly. “We ain’t going nowhere.”
However, most of the room ran for it. Cody had to get out of the doorway to keep from being trampled, as men from five different companies tried to push the doors open at the same time. The burly Pole didn’t want to try to squeeze past me, so he kicked his chair over and went out that way. Some of the smarter commanders simply pulled out their phones and alerted their subordinates, rather than trying to fight the mob. I spotted Armstrong shoving his way out, but he was too busy thinking about how to spend that much PUFF money to notice me violating his restraining order. The violent, struggling clot of Hunters finally broke loose, and they spilled out into the hall as Stricken’s image continued to watch the monitors with approval. There was something about his smile that was simply unnerving.
Lindemann stopped next to Earl. Unlike many there, he didn’t seem ruffled in the slightest. “This man Stricken, you are certain he is with your government?”
“He ain’t from the nice part,” Earl said.
“I was not aware that there was a nice part,” Lindemann chuckled. “If you would excuse me then, gentlemen.” He calmly walked down the now clear aisle.
“I believe that man intends to win,” I said.
“My money is on him,” Earl answered. “But you never know. Maybe one of the new ones will surprise us.”
“It’s a shame to have outsiders handling work on our turf…Oh man, they’re foreigners doing the jobs Americans don’t want to do. That’s so tacky.”
“Trust me on this one. We don’t want any part of Unicorn business.”
“Wait…So that’s Unicorn?”
“Special Task Force Unicorn.”
“They like MCB?”
“Not in the slightest, but not in any of the good ways. MCB is to hide monsters from people. STFU is to use monsters against people. I’m surprised to see the rat come out of the walls.”
Stricken was still watching his monitor, waiting, as the last of the experienced Hunters left and all that remained was MHI. “Harbinger, I’m surprised. You don’t strike me as a man that likes losing.”
“I especially don’t like to lose people,” Earl said, sounding strained.
“Me either, which is why I want this mission wrapped up rikki-tic. Who else do you have there? I can see you left half your leaders outside just in case. Clever…” Stricken’s glasses moved to the other side and he read. “Pitt, Owen Z.…Now you’re an interesting case.”
I didn’t know anything about this man, but I knew I didn’t want him paying any attention to me. “Not particularly.”
“Keep telling yourself that, kid. I’ve got some blank spots in my file about you. I really don’t like having blank spots. Incomplete reports keep me up at night.” I was so glad Myers had shredded his paperwork about me after the Arbmunep.
“One of your pets go off the reservation again?” Earl challenged.
Stricken chuckled. “No, this isn’t one of mine. My current roster is very well behaved, plays well with others, follows orders, regular upstanding citizens deserving of future PUFF exemptions. I couldn’t ask for a better strike force of supernatural killers. Oh, why the sad face? Come on, Earl, still bitter? She’s almost halfway done, just over one year left, then time’s served, she’s free to go.”
Earl was leaning forward, holding onto the back of the folding chair in front of him. The metal beneath his hands creaked and bent as his knuckles turned white. “I’ve already cleaned up one of your mistakes. The suckers can handle this one. You wouldn’t be coming to us unless you want somebody else to bleed on your behalf.”
“You’ve got me all wrong.” Stricken clucked disapprovingly and shook his head with theatrical sadness. “As one professional to another, I’ll level with you. This isn’t one of mine, but it was one of the task force’s teams that responded to investigate. Intel said this should’ve been a cakewalk, turned out it wasn’t. That team has gone missing.”
“Surprised you care.”
“There’re always more things looking for a PUFF exemption to replace them.” He shrugged. “But I do hate losing valuable assets, especially pretty redheads.”
The metal in Earl’s hands snapped in two.
“See you around, Earl. Enjoy your conference.” Stricken reached toward the camera. The screen went black.
“No!” Earl stood, flinging one hand outward and sending four chairs clattering across the room. “Son of a bitch!”
A picture appeared on the TV screen. Three figures were walking down the lowered back ramp of a gray C-130 cargo plane. Behind them was a high desert scene, brown sagebrush dusted with dirty snow. They were dressed in multicam and combat gear, carrying rifles. There were two men in front and an attractive woman in back. Her red hair was rather striking in a shot so filled with bland, dusty colors.
“Heather…” Earl whispered. He walked forward, as if in a daze, staring at the TV screen. After a few seconds, the picture disappeared and the TV changed to silent static. “Damn it!” Earl smashed his fist into the TV and knocked it flying from its stand to explode into pieces against the far wall. Earl stood there, back to us, shoulders hunched, fists clenched.
“Earl?” Cody asked. “You okay?”
“Team leads, collect your men. We’re going hunting,” he snapped. “Move out.”
The team leads obeyed and immediately hurried from the room. I stuck around. The team leads had all been briefed on his condition, but they hadn’t seen it up close like I had. Earl was breathing hard, head down, staring at the broken TV. I’d seen him change before. I recognized the signs. I could feel the energy in the air. Stricken had enraged him so suddenly that it had provoked the beast within…
I reached to the compact STI .45 that was concealed in a tuckable holster on my belt. We both knew the drill. Earl was squared away, more so than any other werewolf, but letting a werewolf change inside a place crowded with innocents was simply unthinkable. I didn’t want to shoot my friend, didn’t think I’d need to, but those were his orders, and I wasn’t going to take any chances. Come on, Earl. “You okay?” I asked after a few seconds.
He turned around. His respiration had slowed. His eyes were the normal blue rather than the dangerous gold. Earl turned, in control again, dragged a shard of glass out from between his knuckles, and tossed it on the carpet. “Will be, as soon as I snap Stricken’s neck. Let’s get to the airport.”