Monster Hunter Vendetta mh-2

by Larry Correia

  Grant had to be the spy.

  Maybe I was biased. We had butted heads ever since I had been recruited. I had never liked him and the feeling had been mutual. The fact that I'd had a crush on his girlfriend hadn't helped things, and then when he'd screwed up on the Antoine-Henri, it had pretty well sealed the deal. I had learned later that he had regretted his call to abandon me so much that it had made him doubt his abilities as a Hunter. That, coupled with the brutality of his time being a captive of the Seven, had led to him leaving.

  Just because I was biased didn't make me wrong.

  Grant Jefferson was staying in the barracks temporarily. He would be assigned to another team within a few days. I'd told the others that I was going to bed, but had immediately gone for a stroll. I figured it wouldn't hurt to go talk to him first. I mentally justified the lie, as Earl Harbinger had put me in charge of rooting out the mole, after all.

  I was just going to talk to him and see if his story made sense, nothing more than that. If he slipped up and said something suspicious, I would just take it back to Earl. The fact that I had stopped long enough to sling Abomination over my shoulder was just a coincidence. It wasn't like everybody around here wasn't always armed to the teeth anyway. This was just a friendly little social call.

  As usual, Franks had tailed me. I still didn't know how the hell he was alive, but I didn't really have the energy to dwell on it. This conversation was none of his business.

  The main room of the barracks was filled with Newbies taking a break. The recreation room was actually a rather nice facility, complete with a pool table, big screen TVs, and lots of video games. We were a paramilitary organization, but we certainly weren't into that whole Spartan thing. Dawn, the Newbie who had spoken with me yesterday, was playing a game of pool. She perked right up when she saw me. That girl's default setting was flirt. She batted her eyes. "Hey, Z. Care to join me?"

  Oh, so it was "Z" now? "Naw, I'm on business. Have you seen Grant?"

  Her expression changed when she saw the hulking form of Franks fill the doorway behind me. For a second, she actually looked frightened. Maybe Franks had paid her a visit after her first monster encounter too. "No, haven't seen him," she answered quickly. "I've got to go." She tossed the pool cue on the table and walked away.

  Some Newbies playing a game of Guitar Hero pointed me toward the correct room. Too bad I was a man on a mission, because I was the reigning company champ on that game. And to think that everybody thought my brother had inherited all the musical talent. The Newbies got really quiet when they saw that I had Agent Franks with me. I couldn't say that I blamed them. He just had a kind of dampening effect on people.

  "Yo, Franks," I said. "You mind hanging out here for a minute?" He just stared at me blankly. "Private matter." He didn't even bother to respond. I leaned in closer so that the Newbies wouldn't hear. "I need to talk to somebody, alone."

  Franks looked at me like I was an imbecile. I couldn't tell him that I thought Grant was the spy, since there was no way in the world he was going to leave me alone with somebody who might be a member of the cult he was supposed to be protecting me from. Franks glanced around the room, studying the inhabitants. He seemed awkward in a place dedicated to recreation.

  "I've got to talk to Grant Jefferson. He… saved my life last night. I need to thank him. And I need to apologize for being a jerk to him." Franks raised an eyebrow. The concept of saying "thank you" or "I'm sorry" probably did not compute, but for whatever reason, he nodded. "One minute." Leaving Franks to watch the Newbies try to beat Arterial Black on "Hard," I went down the hallway and knocked on Grant's door.

  "Yes," came the voice on the other side. "Who is it?"

  "It's Owen Pitt."

  There was a long pause and the noise of a drawer closing. Finally the door opened. Grant's black armor was hanging in the closet behind him, and he was wearing normal clothing for once. "Is there a mission?" he asked hopefully. I shook my head in the negative. "Does Harbinger need me?"

  "Naw, man, I… uh… I just wanted to… talk."

  That confounded him. "Talk?"

  "Yeah, about… stuff. Can I come in?"

  "I guess." Grant stepped out of my way. Harbinger had at least given him one of the private rooms so that he wouldn't have to share with a Newbie. There was a desk and I pulled out the chair and sat, casually letting my shotgun dangle at my side. Grant, puzzled at what I was doing here, closed the door and sat on the bed. "What can I do for you?"

  I hadn't really thought through my plan. Planning's not the kind of thing you do when you're exhausted and just got beat up by gnomes. Might as well try to be nice, lower his defenses. If that didn't work, I would probably just start punching him in the face until he talked. "I just wanted to say thank you for saving my brother's life. That was a good shot."

  "Yes, it was," Grant replied. "And?"

  And? "Well, I just wanted to tell you I appreciate it." I paused. "And I wanted to welcome you back," I lied. "We never really got along before. I wanted to get us off on the right foot this time."

  Grant was smart enough not to buy that. "That's nice. I'm glad to be back."

  "Yeah, about that… why?"

  "Why?"

  He knew damn good and well what I was asking about. "Why'd you come back? I heard you'd moved out to Hollywood, and were living large, hanging out with movie stars and all that. Hell, I've been told that you're already worth a fortune. Your family are like billionaires. Why give up the sunshine and the babes and come back to this?" I gestured around the rather plain little room. He didn't respond, so I continued. "Slogging through the blood and the guts, risking life and limb. Most of us are doing this to make the kind of money that you've always had. Why risk that?"

  "True, I've been financially blessed, just a happy circumstance." He regarded me suspiciously. "But Hunting was never about money."

  "Why then? Why'd you come back?"

  There was quite a bit of hesitation. Got you sucker, you were coerced into it by a giant squid cult. Admit it. Finally, Grant cleared his throat. "It isn't any of your business."

  "I think it is," I answered, then corrected myself. "Not just for me, but for everybody in the company. You're going to get asked eventually, so what are you going to tell them?"

  "I'll tell them what I just told you. That it is none of their damn business… So, is this an official visit or personal? Did Harbinger send you to check on my level of commitment or is this because you don't like having me around Julie. Are you worried about something?"

  What? "That's just stupid."

  "Is it?"

  "Epic stupid. She has nothing to do with this."

  Grant smiled. Holly had told me that he had a disarming smile. I found it rather patronizing. "You know what I did before I was a Hunter?" I shrugged. Julie had said that he'd gone to Harvard. "I was a new attorney at a very prestigious firm. I'd won every single case that I'd had, and some of them were rather impressive. You know why?"

  "Because you're just that good?"

  "Yes, that and because I can always tell when someone is lying to me, and you, Pitt, are a terrible liar. You're worried that your future wife"-he practically spat the word-"still has feelings for me. Before you came along, we were close. We had a real future together. You screwed that up. You feel inadequate, and now you're scared that I'm back-"

  I cut him off. "Don't flatter yourself, dude."

  "Well, don't worry about it. I'm done with her. I don't know if she had an aneurism or what to distort her judgment enough to fall for somebody like you, but it doesn't matter. Damaged goods now. If you think that I came back to MHI like some lovesick puppy, then you're a fool."

  This was certainly spiraling in a direction that I had not expected. Might as well run with it. "Why'd you come back then, Grant? What pushed you to swallow your pride? Was it that hard to admit that you were wrong?"

  Grant stood. "Wrong?" he shouted. "I was a snack for a nest of vampires. Do you have any idea what that's like? Q
uitting wasn't a mistake. It was what any sane person would do."

  "So you quit because you were scared?"

  He went to the door and jerked it open. "Get out."

  I slowly stood. I had two options. Continue to push it, or let it go for now, and I hesitated, undecided. If I was wrong, I couldn't just start kicking the crap out of another Hunter in the barracks, but if he was the spy, then the longer he was free, the greater the danger to everyone. I split the difference. Stopping in the doorway, just inches away, I asked one final time. "I just wanted to know the real reason why. That's all. I'll never bug you again."

  Grant was seriously angry. His face had turned a shade of red I'd not seen before. Something must have snapped. "I came back because I've never failed at anything. I don't know how to fail. Of course I was scared; only idiots like you are immune to fear. But I let the fear win, and I ran away, and I hated myself for it. Every single day, I'd read the papers. I'd recognize the cover stories. The missing persons, the obvious tricks to hide monster attacks, and the anger just filled me."

  "Hunting's in your blood," I answered slowly.

  "That's Shackleford myth," he hissed. "There's no such thing as a born Hunter. The only thing in my blood now is the curse of the vampire, and when I die I've got to get my head sawed off because of it. Nailing supermodels and going to all-night parties is great, but every morning I got to look at a failure in the mirror. I'm here for one reason and one reason only. I'm the best at everything I decide to do, and I can't quit until I prove I'm the best at this too… I can't quit until I beat this. I will be the most effective Hunter in the world or I'll die trying. Do you have a problem with that?"

  Damn it. He was telling me the truth. I could see it in his eyes. This was a man who was just as driven as I was. No wonder we never got along. "No," I answered. I walked out the door and he slammed it shut behind me. I gave a long sigh. "Welcome back, Grant," I muttered to myself.???

  "Owen, I'm glad to see you," Mom said as she answered the guest room door. "I'm afraid you woke us up. I know it's the middle of the afternoon, but we didn't sleep a wink last night."

  "Sorry, Mom, but I need to talk to Dad. It's really important."

  "What happened to your face?"

  "Sucker-punched by a troll… Really, I need to ask him some questions."

  Mom looked me over. I really wasn't in a state of grooming that was up to her usual standards. I was actually impressed that she didn't whip out a cloth, spit on it, and start rubbing my face. She had gained some self-control over the years. "Why do you have that big gun on?" She pointed at Abomination.

  "Protection," I shrugged. I had been ready to shoot Grant with it, but that was too long of a story. Now that it looked like he was just another emotionally deranged Hunter, I was back to square one. "I use this for work. You know, my real work."

  "Ooohhh, that must be your Abominator. Julie talked about it."

  "Mom…" Leave it to your parents to screw up even the coolest stuff. "It's Abomination. And quit stalling, I need to see Dad."

  She turned and looked back into the darkened room. I could hear Dad snoring. She moved out into the hallway, barefoot and in a borrowed bathrobe. She closed the door softly behind her. "He needs his rest."

  "But-"

  "No, you But. Your father needs his rest. He's been sick."

  I had no idea what she was talking about. "Sick?"

  "Oh, hello, young man. I didn't see you there." Mom smiled politely at Agent Franks, who as usual, was following me around. "I'm Ilyana Pitt. You must be one of Owen's friends."

  I snorted. Friend…

  "Ma'am," Franks nodded.

  I cut her off before she could start to harass Franks. I knew even the most stoic man I'd ever met couldn't withstand her, and within moments she would beat his life story out of him and probably enroll him in her book club or something, but I didn't have time for that. "I've got to talk to him right now." I put my hand on the door and started to push.

  One surprisingly firm hand landed on my chest. "Oh, no you don't, mister." Mom shoved me back. She was angry now. "You can talk to him when he's rested. I've been listening to this magic prophecy dream business for the last twenty-five years and I've had to put up with all sorts of strangeness and nonsense, and stockpiles of guns cluttering up my basement, and you two fighting and being obnoxious to each other that whole time. The very least you can do is come back later."

  "But, Mom, it's important!" I'm afraid I whined; parents can do that to you.

  "And it'll still be important in a few hours when we're not all cranky and stressed. Now go before I get mad."

  I couldn't believe this. We're talking about the end of the world, and I was getting kicked out by my mother. This was embarrassing. If I hadn't been exhausted and injured, I probably would have pushed it, but as it stood, all I wanted to do was flop into bed and not get beaten up by oni, trolls, gnomes, or zombies for a while. "Fine," I muttered.

  She actually patted me on the cheek. "Good. See you later. Love you." Then she slipped back inside the guest room and closed the door.

  I groaned. Franks' emotionless mask almost appeared to be smirking. "Your mom seems nice," he said.

  I sank onto my bed, frustrated, exhausted, and with no clear idea of what the hell I was going to do about the problems facing us. We had a spy, this shadow cult had shown they were willing to pull out all the stops, my family was now involved, and I was once again experiencing strange, Old One-related abilities. Normally I would have just lain there, too spun up to sleep, but I had gained a roommate.

  "Okay, so what was the weird chick in the ninja outfit that put that smelly grease on my cuts?" Mosh asked. He wouldn't know just how effective that "grease" was until morning. "With the tusks?" He had been asking me monster-related questions for the last hour.

  "Orc. They're distantly related to humans. Most of them never speak. They always wear masks, but even then they're painfully awkward. Each one has some sort of gift that they're magically good at. Gretchen is a healer. Skippy is the best pilot in the world."

  Mosh was nodding thoughtfully in the dark. "So that explains the Stig."

  "Who?"

  "Never mind…" Mosh muttered. "I thought orcs were the bad guys and elves were good."

  "It's complicated. This particular tribe is good."

  "Are there elves then?"

  "Yes, the local ones live in a magic trailer park. Go to sleep, Mosh."

  I had killed the lights, but I could sense the shifting on the cot on the other side of the room. It was quiet for a long time.

  "So, the reason Dad's always been a jackass is because of a dream? And because he's been afraid?"

  I sighed. I still hadn't really absorbed that yet. All these years I'd just assumed my father was a paranoid jerk by default, and now it turns out that he had reasons. "I suppose so, but I don't know yet."

  "I can't believe he told you that… Dad only ever told me stories about murdering communists. It's not like he ever talked about his feelings. Hell, I didn't know he even had feelings… So it turns out that Dad was right the whole time?"

  "Huh?"

  "You don't get it, do you? Ever since we were little, he's put us through Pitt boot camp and treated us like crap, and we hated him for it because we thought he was crazy… But now you're some sort of top secret badass fighting evil death cults, and you're using the exact kind of skills that Dad tried to beat into us. Hell, if it wasn't for Dad being such a dick, we'd probably be dead. So I guess that means that he was right all along… That's some mind-blowing shit right there. I'm going to have to tell my therapist about this one."

  Crap. Mosh was right. Talk about a paradigm shift. It can be really difficult to admit that you've had such a fundamental misunderstanding about someone. "Well, he's still been a jerk about it," I muttered.

  "A prophetic jerk, though… Man, I can't believe Dad actually told you any of that."

  I rolled over and stared at the ceiling. "He didn't tell me. I re
ad his mind."

  Mosh grunted. "You read minds?"

  "It's a long story."

  It was quiet for almost ten seconds that time. "Okay, what am I thinking right now?" my brother asked.

  He was probably thinking that I had ruined his life. I still don't think he grasped the full implications of what was going on here yet. "You're thinking about how you're finally going to get that operation you've always wanted, and how you'll be a lot more comfortable as a girl, and not having to live a terrible lie, and how you can't wait to get a pretty blue sundress to go along with your new spring wardrobe. Now go the hell to sleep already."

  "Blue isn't my color… Night, bro."

  My brain finally gave up. I finally started to drift off. Tomorrow we would figure out something. There had to be a way to defeat the Condition.

  "So… are dragons real?"

  We need to talk.

  The whisper startled me awake. I blinked the heavy sleep from my eyes. My alarm clock display read 3:00 a.m. on the dot. For a long moment I lay there, trying to decide if I had been dreaming or if somebody had actually spoken. There was an unfamiliar shape on the cot on the other side of my room, and it took me a moment to remember that my brother was crashing here too.

  My whole body ached despite Gretchen's efforts. I had been physically abused over the last few days and I was feeling it right now. Every muscle protested as I sat up. Stupid monsters. There was nobody else in my room, so I must have been dreaming. I needed to get up and use the bathroom anyway.

  I walked barefoot into the hall and headed for the bathroom. It was quiet. The other doors were closed. I took care of business and headed back to bed.

  We need to talk.

  I froze, positive that I had heard that. Scanning both ways, I couldn't see anyone. I was alone in the hallway. It had been a woman's voice, I was sure.

  Meet me at the front gate. Neutral ground.

  What the hell? I was definitely hearing a voice, but I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. This was weird, and weird was usually bad. I flipped on my light, causing Mosh to snort, grunt, and roll over, pulling his blanket back over his shaved head. I picked up Abomination off my dresser and waited. I was wide awake now.