Chapter 3
The first annual International Conference of Monster Hunting Professionals was held at the same time as the shooting industry’s big trade show, SHOT (Shooting, Hunting, Outdoor Tradeshow). That had been a good call on the organizer’s part. First off, since we were in a business that officially did not exist, at a conference that didn’t exist, talking about things that didn’t exist, it provided a crowd of tens of thousands that we could easily blend into. Second, it killed two birds with one stone. For those of us that didn’t particularly care to listen to panels about laws, regulations, and the latest trends in blah blah blah, we could sneak down the street to play with all the latest guns and toys. Many of us had gotten memberships for both events. Milo had a federal firearms manufacturer’s license, and both of us had come armed with MHI corporate cards and a stack of purchase orders. You know…Just in case…
I had been told that there was a certain secret underbelly of the SHOT Show for Monster Hunters. Many of the companies in the gun and gear business knew about us and loved us because we had lots of money and burned through equipment rapidly. So if you wore your company logo or managed to talk to the right sales rep at the right place, you could get peeks behind the curtains at the good stuff that wasn’t available to the public. With hundreds of us from around the world all converged here, that meant there would be even more super-secret cool-guy stuff to play with. Plus, Milo had told me that there were usually tons of free samples.
As a lifelong gun nut, this news had made my year, and I was so excited to make it over to the SHOT Show that I could taste it. I had already color-coded a map with companies that I needed to hit up, and I had even built a spreadsheet for all of the things we needed to buy. Guns, ammo, new types of armor to experiment with, knives, explosives, and Milo really wanted a killer robot.
Unfortunately, since I was now management, protocol demanded that I put in some face time at ICMHP first. So here I was, map, spreadsheet, and purchase orders ready to go, and I was roped into attending the opening ceremonies instead. Acres of guns calling my name right across the street, and I was stuck schmoozing.
Now, there were plenty of panels I did want to attend, though most of those were scheduled in the evenings. I couldn’t wait to hear the nitty-gritty about some of the rare types of monsters that had been encountered and what had proved most effective in destroying them. There was even a Q&A session for the team that had taken down the infamous Glasgow mega-snake. They could keep the laws and ethics nonsense panels. I was in this for the things that would make me a more effective Hunter. The last thing I wanted to do was listen to a lobbyist for equal rights for vampires or some bullshit like that.
After Julie and I had come down the elevator, we signed in, got name tags, and were hustled through the registration area of the Last Dragon’s conference area. There were all sorts of attendees, academics, lobbyists, salesmen, government types, but mostly Hunters, more Hunters than I’d ever seen, Hunters from all over the world. Hell, according to Julie this was the greatest concentration of Hunters anyone knew of. None of us were dressed for battle and nobody was wearing their war face, but you could tell they were Hunters. You could just smell it on them. These people had seen things that even I hadn’t seen. It was kind of exciting, yet also strangely intimidating, and for the first time I felt myself becoming really excited for this event.
This morning there appeared to be a few MCB working in conjunction with casino security. I spotted Agent Archer from across the room, and he gave me a brief nod of acknowledgement. I hadn’t seen my former bodyguard since New Zealand. It appeared that the efficient agent was the man in charge of coordinating with the local security. I felt pity for any reporters that tried to make their way into this particular shindig.
As we were riding up the escalator into the conference center, Julie tapped me on the shoulder. “Look who’s here.”
I followed her pointing finger. “Well, obviously it wouldn’t be a party without Agent Franks.” The hulking agent was standing off to the side, watching the passing crowd of Hunters with dispassionate eyes, probably deciding which ones were the greatest threats and in what order he would eliminate them if necessary. Though the hall was crowded with guests, they seemed to instinctively part around Franks, like seals with a killer whale in the surf. He was a one-man wall of intimidation. And they didn’t even know that he wasn’t really human.
“Lovely.”
“Don’t misunderstand him. Under that violent, frightening, remorseless killing machine exterior, he’s got the heart of a saint…Or two. Probably two hearts. I’m going to say hi.”
“Knock yourself out, hon.”
Franks saw me coming. His lips parted in what was either disgust or annoyance, but it certainly wasn’t a smile. I waved happily. “Franks, buddy! How you been? You’re looking well. Are those new ears?”
“Pitt…” Franks didn’t seem to appreciate me talking about his secret in public.
The taciturn monster Agent Franks and I had an odd relationship. We had killed a great Old One together. Normally that would be a wonderful way to make friends with someone, only I don’t think Franks had friends, nor did he want any, and if he got the order, I had no doubt he would shoot me dead without the slightest hesitation and then not feel even a glimmer of remorse. At best, Franks respected me a tiny bit more than he did most people, but as far as I could tell, he thought of most people as insects, so that wasn’t saying much. “How you been?”
He looked around the crowd and grunted.
“Me too, thanks for asking,” I said. Franks scowled. That was usually what passed for conversation with the man made out of spare parts. “So what brings you here?”
“Orders.”
I could almost have sworn that he sounded bitter about that. “Myers around?” Franks raised a single eyebrow, as if to say you haven’t heard? The fact that I understood that gesture told me that I had spent entirely too much time around Franks. “Wait. What happened to your boss?”
“They’ll announce it.” He really didn’t sound happy now. Another agent came up next to Franks and whispered something to him. “Reporter or protestor?” Franks listened as the agent kept whispering. Not that he actually displayed any emotion; having something to do seemed to cheer him up, or maybe I was just projecting, like when you have a conversation with a plant. “Someone is trying to get in without a badge.” He began walking away.
“Well, don’t kill anybody.”
Franks paused for a second. “Why not?”
“Uh…Never mind. See you around, Franks.”
I followed the crowd. Luckily there was a table of coffee and snacks, so I grabbed a couple of doughnuts on the way in. The opening ceremonies were being held in a gigantic ballroom. A stage and podium had been set up in the front, and the rest of the room had been filled with chairs. My wife spotted me and waved. She’d saved us a few seats.
Earl was shaking hands with some old acquaintances. He joined us a moment later with “I hate these sorts of things.”
We sat toward the back. Julie was wearing a conservative dress that just screamed business, Earl was in his leather jacket like normal and extra irritable because there wasn’t a smoking area anywhere nearby, and Nate was in a suit and had a bandage on his nose from last night. The poor kid looked rough, but that was understandable since getting hit by Lacoco was like getting hit by a truck. There were other members of MHI in the mass of Hunters filing in. Many of us had been smart enough to skip this part to go look at guns. I didn’t see Lacoco, which was probably a good thing, and I had no idea if Tanya the elf had ever turned up either. Obviously, Skippy and Edward, who had been working our last case with us, didn’t like crowds and had volunteered to stay with the chopper at the airport. That was unfortunate, because if we’d had Edward’s Orc Fu at the buffet fight we would’ve totally kicked ass.
Julie had been doing this for years and Earl had been doing this for a really long time, so between the two of them they knew almost everybody and kept up a running commentary as the other participants came in. “Those are the boys from Tokyo. They positively own the giant monster business. I’ll have to introduce you. They’re all right.”
“Good to see French Hunters made it,” Julie said. “Is that Jean Darne’s son?”
“I think so…I should probably avoid him. He might be a little sore since I beheaded his daddy.”
“You did his dad a favor,” Julie said. “I’ll talk to him later. I can relate.”
“Be good to keep up friendly relations.” Earl nodded. “Those French Hunters are all right.”
There was a sudden flood of matching black polo shirts. They had even choreographed their arrival, with Armstrong in the lead. “Hey, Prehensile Tails got out of jail too.”
“I thought it was Panoramic Toast.” Even Julie had decided to join in.
Earl gave Paranormal Tactical Consulting the once-over. “Well, now it’s obvious why you kids wanted to hit them so bad. They look like assholes.”
That went on for some time as Earl grouped all the newcomers into one of two categories. They were either assholes or all right. Because of his extraordinarily long career, Earl was like an encyclopedia of everyone in the business, and if he didn’t know them personally, they were more likely to fall into the asshole category. For Earl, everyone from the government automatically went into the first bucket until proven otherwise. By the time the lights dimmed we had seen Hunters from fifteen different countries, sometimes more than one team from the same country, with Earl praising one bunch and cursing the next.
My phone buzzed with a text from Milo. Dude. SHOT is awesome. Our ammo mfg is loading our 30 cal silver bullets in 7.62x39 and 300 win mag now! I got free samples and a hat! That simply wasn’t fair.
It took another fifteen minutes for everyone to come in. Many of the latecomers looked hung over and tired, but such was the nature of Vegas. A spotlight turned on over the speaker’s podium and the MC came out wearing a tuxedo. “How long is this going to take?” Earl leaned across me to ask Julie.
She had thoughtfully grabbed a schedule. “Let’s see…Welcome, intros, some announcement from the MCB, a couple of keynote speeches…About two hours. Then the luncheon, then the panels start…And you two had damn well better be attending the ones I’m on. The keynote address is at six.”
Earl and I groaned simultaneously. “I’m gonna need a smoke.” Earl got up to sneak out.
“Bring me back a plate of those little sausages and some cheese balls, would you?” I asked.
Regardless of what business you’re in, these sorts of things were always the same. Introduce yourself. Applause. Introduce everybody else. Applause. Tell a lame joke. Applause. Thank everyone and their dog…I mean, come on, the people in this room kill supernatural beings for a living…How could you possibly make that tedious? Yet somehow, they did. The master of ceremonies was long-winded and I was quickly bored. It didn’t help that Milo kept texting me every so often about something else that I was missing. Z! I met Ted Nugent and got his autograph! He was cool. Followed ten minutes later with Found secret killer robot company! Going for a test drive! LOL! If I hadn’t known Milo was such a nice guy I would’ve sworn that he was tormenting me on purpose. Picking up more awesome free samples! 20mm cannon! The number of bodies crammed in made it too warm, and per Julie’s insistence, I’d worn a tie, which made it more stuffy, all of which made me want to take a nap.
When the MC introduced the guests of honor, he mentioned that an invitation had been extended to Raymond Shackleford the Third, owner of Monster Hunter International, but that he’d been unable to attend due to health reasons. Which was partially true, with the other part being that he’d simply thought the whole thing had sounded boring and being a guest of honor was pretentious. When they said the boss’s name, all of the members of MHI, myself included, gave him a standing ovation. I was happy to see that several members from some of the foreign teams stood up out of respect too. They should. He was a living legend.
“Aw, Grandpa would’ve really liked that,” Julie said.
That part was interesting, but then it was back to thanking the generous organizers of this illustrious secret gathering and all that jazz. I hadn’t gotten much sleep, so I think I might have nodded off for a minute or two when Julie elbowed me awake. “Huh? What?” Had I been snoring?
“Did you catch that?”
“What?” And then I noticed that there was a general murmur going through the audience.
“The next speaker is the new director of the Monster Control Bureau, and it isn’t Myers.”
Dwayne Myers had been running the MCB since right after I’d first been mauled by a werewolf, but he had only been the interim director, pending congressional approval. The previous real director had been run out because of some scandal. Myers had been running things for so long that I had always just assumed he would end up officially in charge. Myers was a complete jerk, but he was also a ruthlessly efficient jerk. I perked up. Hunters had no choice but to deal with the MCB, so this announcement could go either way.
“What’s his name?”
“Douglas Stark. Sounds familiar, but I can’t remember from where. Ringing any bells?”
“Never heard of him.” I looked around for Earl, since he knew everybody, but he wasn’t back yet. “A new guy, huh? How bad could he be?”
“Never say that about the MCB,” Julie hissed. “You’ll jinx us!”
The MC got out of the way and a stocky man with bulldog jowls entered from behind the curtains. He walked across the stage with a swagger, took his place at the podium to sporadic and lackluster applause, reached into his suit, took out a piece of paper, cleared his throat, and began to read his speech. “Thank you, Ken. Thank you, everyone, for the warm welcome.” The dozen or so MCB agents that were actually clapping stopped. “I’m Special Agent Doug Stark and I am honored to be a guest here at the first annual International Conference of Monster Hunting Professionals. It is my goal to usher in a new era of cooperation between public sector and private sector Hunters.”
“That’ll be the day.” Earl slid in next to me. He had neglected to bring me more snacks. “Why’s that jackass talking?”
“That’s the new MCB director.”
“You’re messing with me…Oh shit, you’re not. Him?” Earl’s eyes narrowed. “God help us…I should’ve killed that son of a bitch when I had the chance.”