Monster Hunter Vendetta

I squatted down. It was time to end it. "You want to worship the Old Ones? Well, tell them hi for me." I placed my gun against his temple.

 

Grant sputtered something. It took me a second to realize he was laughing at me. His teeth were red with blood. "Old Ones? God, you're a moron . . . Sure, I'm a spy, but not for the Condition."

 

What?

 

"He's working for the Monster Control Bureau," Agent Anthony Torres said from the doorway. "Myers recruited him after he left MHI."

 

"Are you serious?"

 

Grant gasped as he looked over my shoulder. "It's you!"

 

Torres was standing over me, collapsible baton extended above his head. "Yes." Then he cracked me hard, lights exploded in my skull, snapping my head around. The floor came up and hit me.

 

"Anthony! What are you doing?" Herzog screeched. I couldn't see what happened next, but there was a sudden whump.

 

Sitting up, I raised my gun but another quick strike of the baton knocked it from my hand. Torres kicked me in the chest, sending me back to the ground.

 

"Stop right there," he stated as he raised his HK in his other hand. A fat sound suppressor had been screwed onto the muzzle.

 

My head hurt. That baton had nailed me good. The spinning room lurched to a stop. "What are you doing?" I grunted.

 

"I'm completing my mission," Torres said calmly. His normally cheerful disposition had been replaced with something cold. He stepped completely into the room and closed the damaged door behind him. Back against the wall, he kept the gun pointed at me. I realized with a start that Herzog was also down, a gaping hole in the side of her head, brains dripping down the wall behind, eyes like glass, open and staring at nothing. "I never did like her," Torres said. "Too bossy." Then he lowered his gun and shot her twice more, each round from the suppressed pistol sounding like the slamming of a thick book. It was back on me before I could do anything.

 

Grant struggled to sit up, but began coughing. I had really hit him good.

 

"Hunters, as you enter the world, your greatest weapon is the trust you have in your team," Earl said over the intercom. The intercom speaker was next to Torres and he turned it off.

 

"I've listened to enough blowhards for one night," Torres said. His demeanor had changed. The friendly act was cast aside, and now I could see the crazy in his eyes. Damn, he'd been a good actor. "You know, you look confused, Owen. Let me try to help you out here. I'm an acolyte in the Exalted Order of the Shadows, that's who I really work for. Jefferson here is pretending to work for MHI, when he's really working for Myers. His assignment was to help Franks catch which of your detail was the spy."

 

"Traitors," I muttered. "Both of you."

 

"I was trying to serve my country. . . ." Grant said, spitting a gob of blood on the floor. "Unlike this piece of shit."

 

Undeterred, Torres' HK kept floating between Grant and me. If either of us moved, we were dead. "Well, you did find me finally, Agent Jefferson. I'll give you that." Torres smiled. "Maybe you'll get a posthumous promotion for catching me. . . ."

 

"Squid lover," Grant spat.

 

"Don't knock it until you try it." He turned his attention back to the door, and peeked through the crack down the hallway. The gun was still pointed in our direction. Torres was a pro. "Don't try anything stupid, Pitt."

 

"Grant, what the hell's going on?" I hissed.

 

"I was trying to help you, moron." Grant moaned as he sat up. "Myers knew the MCB had been infiltrated. I was supposed to watch out for you and back up Franks. When one of Myers' people, Patterson, was killed trying to infiltrate the cult, there were only a few agents who knew about her cover."

 

My head was spinning, and not just from Torres' baton. Myers had shown me pictures of Agent Patterson. She had been the one chopped into pieces—Franks' friend. Torres was still listening and turned his attention back to us, grinning.

 

"Served the bitch right, trying to lie to the sacred Order. There were only a handful of us who knew about Ashley's assignment. Archer took care of her comms. Herzog"—Torres gestured at the dead woman—"processed her reports. And I was her field backup. Myers could only narrow it down to the three of us. He was suspicious, but couldn't be certain if he'd been betrayed or if the Order was getting its intel some other way. When the Dread Overlord sent his request for your utter destruction, that toad Myers saw his opportunity. He knew if one of us was a spy, we'd surely reveal ourselves to take a shot at you."

 

It made sense. That's why Herzog was just a clerk. They had never been here to protect me. They had been here simply to see which one tried to kill me and then Franks or Grant could capture them. I didn't know if I was angrier at Torres the traitor or Myers for bringing this down on our heads.

 

"You weren't supposed to figure that out. . . ." Grant said.

 

"I wasn't supposed to know about you either. Looks like Myers underestimated the Order again." Torres went back to watching the hallway. He was waiting for something.

 

I had to keep him distracted. I had to go for that gun. "So this whole thing about MHI having a spy was a lie?"

 

"Oh, no," Torres said. "You've got bigger problems, an actual doppelganger." He gestured at the blood-soaked Newbie, almost reverently. "This is its work. In fact . . ." He glanced absently at his watch. "We both have our missions, and our assignment is almost done. Check out the monitors."

 

Beneath the blood splatter were twenty different black and white ten-inch screens. The compound was well covered. The one of the cafeteria was packed with Hunters as Earl wrapped up his speech. The other views were mostly empty, but movement caught my eye on one of the central ones. A group of shapes were moving toward the barracks. Men with guns.

 

"Fellow acolytes," Torres said proudly.

 

"Half a dozen ass-wipes aren't going to stand up to a bunch of pissed-off Hunters," I said. "Hell, Earl will probably just eat them."

 

Torres was enjoying himself. He turned away from the door. "Our doppelganger will neutralize your little werewolf at the proper time, with MHI-issued silver bullets even. My brothers are here to destroy your ward stone." The look on my face must have betrayed my surprise. "Oh yes, we know all about that. Harbinger thought secrecy would protect it. Not even our High Priest was privy to that. But Myers knew, and he filed it in his official report on MHI." Torres shrugged. He was feeling smug. "Just another thing I was able to pass on to the Order."

 

The monitor that covered the front gate showed movement also. A semi pulling a huge cargo trailer rolled to a halt, then another parked beside it, and another pulled up behind. The drivers got out and moved to open the rear doors. More trucks were pulling up behind. You could pack a lot of dead stuff into that many trailers.

 

"With your shield gone, a veritable ocean of the righteous dead will flood this place. Once the Hunters are gone, I'll deliver you personally to my Master."

 

"What about me?" Grant asked.

 

Torres scowled. "You? I just wanted to gloat for a minute. Might as well pop you now." He moved the gun back toward Grant. "All that I'm going to ask is that I'll be the one to animate your corpse afterward."

 

Grant gave Torres a bloody smile. "Good thing I texted Franks when I found Pitt."

 

Grant had been holding his phone when I had spotted him.

 

Torres' eyes flicked to the door just as it exploded inward. He opened fire. The flash-bang grenade went off a split second later.

 

My eyes were scalded with light and my ears rang with a deafening screech. Head swimming, I struggled to my feet. I had to reach Torres. I misjudged and crashed into the wall. A strong hand grabbed my neck and shoved me out of the way. I tripped over Herzog's corpse and went to my knees.

 

A moment later I could see again. Bright purple ghosts floated across my corneas, but I could at least tell what was going on. Torres was facedown on the floor. Franks was kneeling on his back, handcuffing him. Archer stood in the doorway with a Sig 229 pointed at Torres' head.

 

Then I could hear. Torres was screaming, thrashing. "The High Priest is coming! His legions are coming! You can't stop him! It's the dark new dawn! Do you hear me?"

 

Franks jerked Torres to his feet. He towered over his prisoner. "Yeah. I hear you." Then he slammed his giant fist into the side of Torres' head with a brutal hook. The cultist collapsed, unconscious. "So shut up."

 

I got unsteadily to my feet. "Where's the alarm button?"

 

Franks pointed at Torres' limp form. "Get him out of here." Archer looked confused. "I'll explain later. Contact Myers. Tell him we got the spy." Franks glanced down at Grant. "Nice work, Agent Jefferson." He was smug, mission completed, no idea what was coming our way fast.

 

There was a large red button on the control desk. I mashed it repeatedly. Nothing happened. I looked under the desk. The wires had been torn out. I swore.

 

Franks' blunt features were perplexed. "What?"

 

Grant had gotten unsteadily to his feet. He pointed at the monitors. "The Condition's attacking!"

 

The acolytes had pulled up a hidden hatch near the barracks and were entering the tunnels. The view of the front gate showed the trucks and the movement of some vast beast tottering down the trailers' ramps. On the cafeteria camera, Earl finished speaking. He was stepping down. Esmeralda was taking his place. Someone stood in the audience, back toward the camera, a gun extended forward. It was utterly silent. Earl jerked as a hail of bullets tore into him. There was a loud noise down the hallway as something exploded.

 

The power went out.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

 

A brilliant flashlight beam clicked on. Franks flashed it around the room.

 

"Status?"

 

"Commando team is trying to destroy our ward stone. And when they do there's at least four truckloads of undead waiting to charge in." I pulled out my own Streamlight and shined it around the room. I spotted my compact STI .45 and picked it up. "We've got to protect that ward."

 

Grant, stumbling from the beating, retrieved Torres' suppressed HK and looted some extra mags from the unconscious traitor. That's right, I had tossed Grant's gun down the hallway. Franks was a hulking shadow behind his light. "Archer, request reinforcements. Jefferson, call the Shacklefords and warn them what's coming."

 

Archer came back immediately. "I've got nothing."

 

"No signal," Grant said. The Condition was jamming us somehow. This was a full-on assault. Hood had set it up perfectly. He must have been planning this forever. Like Holly had said, this was a chess game to him.

 

"You know where the ward stone's at?" I asked. Grant had been around longer than I had.

 

"No idea," he answered. I shined my flashlight on him. He was bleeding from his nose and one eye was swollen shut. I had really clocked him. Served him right, just not for the reasons I had imagined. If we lived through this, I was going to find out why Grant had turned snitch and then I was going to beat him to death.

 

"The bad guys were heading into the tunnels by the barracks. Earl said that the stone was centrally located," I said.

 

"Probably in the middle of the property," he responded. The main building was toward the front. We had some ground to cover.

 

The compound was connected to the regular electrical lines. Those must have been cut by whatever that explosion was, probably set by the doppelganger. But we had our own backup generators in the basement. I could hear them begin to whine from down the hall. They were up and running within a minute. The lights came back on.

 

The cultists were in the tunnels. Luckily Earl had given me a brief tour. "I know about an entrance to the tunnels. We're close. We can intercept them. We've got to hurry." I started from the room.

 

"Wait," Franks said as he blocked the exit. "I'll handle this. My mission is still to keep you safe."

 

"No, you lied. Your mission was to capture your traitor." I pointed at Torres' unconscious form. "Now get the hell out of my way."

 

"You were both part of my mission."

 

"You son of a bitch . . ." He had brought a murderer right into my house, and put all of us at risk, just to accomplish his mission. Unfortunately, I couldn't even afford the luxury of being angry. There was work to be done. "We're out of time."

 

He contemplated that just for a second. After all, with the warding down, we were probably all going to die anyway. "Fine. Let's go. Archer, warn the Hunters. Find a way to contact Myers."

 

"Yes, sir!" Archer shouted, whipping out a pair of handcuffs and securing one of Torres' already cuffed wrists to the heavy desk. Then the efficient agent sprinted from the room, shouting back at us. "I'll get help."

 

Franks raised his Glock 10mm. He was wearing a suit, and other than what he had stashed in his pockets, probably didn't have a lot of extra firepower. All I had was my compact pistol, two extra 10-round mags, and a Spyderco folding knife. The rest of my gear was upstairs, fat lot of good that did me right now. Grant had Torres' piece, but at least he was wearing armor. So it was up to a brute, a snitch, and me, armed only with handguns, to defeat a commando force of heavily armed and amped-up cultists. I led the way toward the tunnels. "Hurry."

 

We reached the storage closet that Earl had showed me. The door was locked. I kicked it open. My ankle was really burning now. Shoving the shelf of cleaning supplies aside, I realized that there was no way I was going to batter this massive door open. The padlock hanging from the massive latch was a serious piece of steel. "Crap! I can't open it."

 

"Move," Franks ordered as he shoved past me.

 

"Well, that was stupid," Grant said.

 

"Shut it, you rat."

 

"You have no idea what you're talking about it, so shove it," Grant returned. "I saved your life."