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 jalape?o 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.