Monster Hunter Siege (Monster Hunters International Book 6)

by Correia, Larry

  “Hey, Earl.”

  “Yeah, Z?” He paused in the doorway.

  “You ever done an op this big before?”

  “Hell, kid,” he called out as he left. “I invaded Normandy.”

  * * *

  Dad was back in the hospital. I’d heard Mom and Mosh were taking turns at his bedside. Since my flight got in so late I didn’t want to inconvenience them, so I just caught a cab from the airport. Of course, that meant I surprised my mom, who immediately got upset that I’d paid for a taxi when she could have picked me up. My good intentions or relative wealth didn’t matter, because Mom is frugal . Which was our family’s nice way of saying she was incredibly cheap.

  To be fair, she’d grown up in a Communist country where things like fresh fruit and splinter-free toilet paper were luxuries reserved for the connected. If you spent a buck unnecessarily around Mom, you were going to get a lecture about it. The only thing the Pitts spent ludicrous amounts of guilt-free money on was for stockpiling ammunition and canned food. Both of my parents had agreed that was cool. Anything beyond that, Mom didn’t like it. She still buried coffee cans full of cash in the yard and didn’t trust banks.

  All of that meant I never told her the reason Dad was getting care from the best doctors in the best hospital in the state, instead of taking a number at the VA, was because I’d written the administrator here a big honking donation check.

  Since Dad was asleep, Mom and I hung out in the waiting room and talked for a bit. It was obvious she hadn’t been sleeping and was strung out on hospital cafeteria coffee. Mom had been an athlete in her youth, and she’d aged gracefully, so I think this was one of the first times that I saw her actually look old. Like old-lady old.

  But tired or not, she was still a nonstop rambling chatterbox of motherliness. To pass the time she’d brought in a shoe box of old photographs and was organizing them into albums. She called it scrapbooking. I sat next to her on the couch and let the interrogation begin.

  “How is Julie doing? I don’t want her working too hard. I need a healthy grandbaby. She’d better take it easy, because Pitt children are very large. Both of you were ten-pounders. You were like carrying a bowling ball.”

  “She’s doing okay, but not working too hard doesn’t come easy for Julie. She likes to stay busy.”

  “She says that now, but bowling ball.”

  Mom had already given me the latest update on Dad’s condition—declining—and his outlook—grumpy, though the second one was normal. “How’re you doing?”

  “Oh, me?” She waved one hand dismissively. “I’m fine.”

  She always said she was fine. “No, really. How are you holding up?”

  “Great.”

  “Mom…”

  Her forced smile died. “I’m tired. I’ve known this day was coming for a long time, but that doesn’t change it being hard. But I’m glad my boys are here…and yet from the guilty look on your face, you’re about to say not for long.”

  “I’m really sorry, but I’m working on something important.”

  “Related to your father’s dream?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The part where one of his sons has to die to save the world?” She shook her head. “Don’t act surprised that I know things. I’ve been hearing about that from him since the doctor told us you were a boy and your father looked so distraught and guilty that I knew something was wrong. I dragged the truth out of him then and I’ve put up with his nonsense ever since.”

  “That must have been tough.”

  “Eh.” She shrugged. “I married a Green Beret. If I’d wanted easy I would have done like my mother always told me and married a politician.”

  That made me grin. “Dad was a real catch.”

  “I thought so. When my family defected, your father was one of the soldiers who got us out. I fell in love with him the day we met. Of course, your grandfather was an important man, and he didn’t approve of me falling for an American, especially one who wasn’t white.”

  “Did Grandpa ever get over it?”

  “We didn’t give him much of a choice. Eventually he came around. Your father is impossible to argue with when he sets his mind to something. You are so much like him it is funny.”

  “I inherited his ugly mug.”

  “Not that. And neither of you are ugly!” Of course, moms and wives are delusional and biased. “I’ll show you. I’ll find one of him young.” She began flipping through the old photos. “Here. Look at this one.”

  It was a picture of Dad in Vietnam. He had never been the pose-for-a-picture kind of guy, so somebody had caught him slogging through a swamp. He was wearing tiger-stripe camo, a boonie hat, carrying an old CAR, and covered in mud. He was just a kid, but even then he was squat and muscle-bound. He even had that same squinty-eyed scowl I’d know my whole life. Even twenty-year-old Dad had been a total hard-ass.

  “You can see why I fell in love with him.”

  “Yeah. He was quite the catch.”

  Mom snorted. “Frivolous women want a pretty man, but a smart woman wants a man who is a man. Julie understands. But I wasn’t talking about how you look alike, I mean you both always thought you could save everybody. He never could tolerate a bully either. It’s why you got into so many fights when you were a boy. And I guess, as you got older you stayed the same, and your fights just got bigger and bigger.”

  “You’ve got no idea.”

  “Oh, I understand more than you think. You used your fists then and now you use Abominator.”

  I had given up on trying to correct her on that one.

  “All those years when he was in the Army, you boys would ask him about how come he had to go away again, and he’d tell you something about duty, and honor, and loyalty, and fighting for freedom, but that isn’t why he did it. He said those things because they seemed like the right thing to say. Men he respected talked like that, and he was never good at putting words to things himself.”

  “No kidding.” English was Mom’s third language and she was still the far better communicator of the two.

  “He went and fought because some people can’t help but stand up to evil. They’re born to fight. They’re smart enough to know what will happen if they lose, but they’re brave anyway. They see a wrong, and they’ll bleed to fix it. They’ll take any abuse, but won’t let anyone harm their friends. They do the right thing even when it is hard. That is how you’re just like him.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “That means a lot.”

  “Keep this one.” She handed me the old Vietnam picture. “And remember I lived happily with that kind of stubborn man all these years, and to do that you have to be just as stubborn as they are. So when I say I’ll be fine, you’d better believe it, kiddo.”

  * * *

  I sat there in silence for hours. Dad was sleeping. Always muscular and imposing, he seemed to have shrunk. Big guys look funny when they suddenly lose a bunch of weight.

  Mom had gone home for a bit. Mosh had taken over the waiting room couch and gone to sleep, and I’d gone into Dad’s room and pulled up a chair next to his bed.

  Dad woke up an hour before dawn. Because of the constantly changing drug cocktails they had him on, his sleep schedule was wonky, but one nice thing about donating enough money to a hospital for them to buy a new MRI machine is that none of the staff give you crap about visiting hours.

  Of course the first thing out of Dad’s mouth when he saw me was, “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I came to check on you.”

  Dad scowled. His eyes were sunken and there were big dark circles around them, so even though scowling was his default expression, this one seemed particularly judgy. Surprisingly, his voice was stronger than expected from how he looked. “You shouldn’t be screwing around when you’ve got a mission to complete.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  “No, you’re here being a big crybaby because I’m sick. Dry those eyes, you pussy. My condition shouldn�
�t come as a surprise. You moping around isn’t going to fix anything.”

  That made me laugh. I don’t know why I’d expected a terminal illness to make him less cantankerous. “I said I’m working on it, you grumpy old bastard.” And I said that with love. “My boss ordered me to come and see you before he’d sign off on declaring war on your ancient superdemon.”

  Dad smiled. “Ah, of course he did. How is Mr. Wolf?”

  “Worried I don’t appreciate how good a man raised me.”

  “You’re gonna make me blush.”

  “Mr. Wolf also ordered Gretchen, our orc healer, to mix up a thermos full of medicine for you. It should help keep you strong.”

  “Tell him thanks.”

  “You won’t thank anybody after you taste it.”

  Dad reached out and grabbed my hand. There wasn’t a lot of strength left in his grip. “It is really good to see you, son.”

  “You too, Dad.”

  That was about all we could say. Pitt men really weren’t good at the emotional stuff. We were both quiet for a long time.

  “I’m going to tell you something difficult, Owen, and I need you to listen. You’ve got work to do, and we both know you’re the only one who can do it. I should have died a long time ago, but I worked too hard to be a distraction now. When are you going to make your move?”

  “We’ve got a window in about six months.”

  “Then here’s the deal. You don’t have time to grieve. I made them give me thirty extra years. I swear to you I can make it that much longer, just so I can watch my boy come home victorious. Six more months? That’s nothing. They owe me that much.”

  I lost it then. I put my head down and began to sob uncontrollably. Dad reached out, put his hand on the side of my head and dragged me down, so we were forehead to forehead, and whispered. “Listen to me, Owen. Listen. I love you, son. Everything I did was for love. It’s up to you to protect them now. Everybody. You understand?”

  I couldn’t speak, so I nodded. I was getting tears on his hospital gown.

  “Okay. Good boy.” He held me for a while. “Good boy.”

  “When we win, it’ll be because you taught me how,” I said. Then he let go, and I leaned back and wiped my eyes. “Thanks, Dad.”

  The moment passed, and Auhangamea Pitt got right back to being his gruff self. “Good. You’d better kick his ass. Now get back to work.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  Mosh volunteered to drive me back to the airport. I had told him I was fine calling a cab, but he’d insisted. I got the feeling he just really needed to talk to someone right then. So we’d borrowed Mom’s car, and then wound up spending most of the drive in awkward silence. We were both a little shell-shocked.

  I was still worried about my brother. He had been messed up after the Condition had screwed up his hand and the MCB had ruined his career. A washed-up rock star drinking himself to death was a bad cliché way to go. Except after helping save the day in Las Vegas, he’d joined MHI, and that seemed to have given him a purpose again. I just didn’t know if that was a solid foundation, or if it was a crack waiting to happen.

  It wasn’t until we were getting close to our destination that Mosh tried getting what was bugging him off his chest. “It’s weird, man. Big revelation about his fate, and just like that, everything is different. Stupid little things don’t matter anymore. Perspective changes.” He sighed. “I spent a lot of years being angry.”

  “I never said you were wrong to be.” Dad had been harder on him than me. We were both overachievers, but I had a natural talent for violence, while Mosh had always had to work at it. My relationship with Dad had been difficult, but my brother’s had been impossible. “Besides, Pitts accomplish great things when motivated by spite.”

  “I know. I thought, I’ll show him. But none of that mattered. I had nothing, then I had everything, then I had nothing, but Dad stayed exactly the same. He didn’t care about that stuff. How much time did I waste, just because I couldn’t see? I thought he was cruel, and now I know it was the opposite all along. He didn’t think he could afford compassion. He pushed us hard because he loved us, so in a way, I hated his guts, because he did the best he could. How messed up is that? Now that I know Dad had reasons for being how he was—weird, crazy reasons, but still—things make more sense. I wish he could have just told us what was up.”

  Except the angel who’d brought him back to life had ordered him not to. Dad had been stuck, and now that Mosh understood that, he was feeling like an asshole for all of the stupid pointless fights between them. So rather than rub it in I just gave a noncommittal, “Uh-huh.”

  Mosh snorted. “I’m glad you’re as good as he is about talking things out.”

  “Just don’t get us in a wreck with all those salty tears of sadness in your eyes.” It was a very Dad thing to say. Both of us had a laugh. “Naw, I’m with you, Mosh. I get it. I really do. Regret sucks.”

  We were nearing the drop-off lane. “From what you’ve said, I’m guessing there’s no chance Harbinger is going to let any Newbies go on this big job of yours.”

  “Not a snowball’s chance in hell.”

  “Figured…On the bright side, Mom is going to need somebody to stick around. It might actually be fun to spend some time with Dad for once, and actually…I don’t know, get to know him, talk man to man.”

  “And if he starts yelling at you, at least it can’t be for long because he’ll need a hit on the oxygen mask.”

  Mosh snorted. “Always the optimist.” There was an open spot at the drop-off and arrivals area. He pulled in. “Well, this is it.”

  “Take care of Mom and Dad.” I started to get out. “And take care of yourself. I worry about you.”

  “Wait, Owen. Something else. You need to be careful—”

  “We don’t even know for sure there will be a mission yet, but if there is I’ll do my best—”

  My brother cut me off. “Dude, I was going to say careful you don’t screw up your kid! Julie’s having a baby. That’s a big deal! Here we are talking about Dad and all our weird baggage. You’ve got a chance to do it right. Don’t screw it up!”

  Great, no pressure or anything.

  CHAPTER 3

  I’d spent the last ten minutes dangling from a rope, in a pitch-black elevator shaft, descending far beneath the Earth’s surface. The only light was from the little LED flashlight strapped to my forehead. I’d been trained, and Milo had rigged up the ropes, and there was nobody better at that sort of thing in the company than him, but that didn’t mean I had to like the trip. By the time my boots hit solid ground, my heart was racing and my limbs were trembling. I hated stuff like this. There was a reason you didn’t see very many big dudes climbing mountains.

  Milo on the other hand seemed to be having a blast. “Looking good, Z!” He nearly blinded me with his headlamp when he came over to unhook me from the ropes. He’d gone down the shaft first and had made it look like a piece of cake, kicking off the walls and dropping twenty feet at a time. Milo climbed like he was part spider monkey. I had figured the power to the elevator would be cut; that was why I’d asked him to come along on this one. Trip I’d invited because he was the biggest geek I knew, and if I went to talk to a dragon without him, he’d probably never speak to me again.

  “Wasn’t that fun?” Milo asked.

  “Yeah.” I took a deep breath. “Fun.”

  “Just wait until we get to climb back up!” Milo slapped me on the shoulder. The rope swung free and the D-ring made a clang as it hit the side of the shaft. “Don’t worry. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

  Only if the cake was made out of acrophobia and nausea. Go toe-to-toe with a monster? No problem. But that whole random chance of snapping a rope and tumbling to my death part, I had a problem with. It had only been a few days since Gretchen had cut the cast off my forearm. This probably wasn’t what our healer had in mind when she’d told me not to strain myself too much. Oh well. That’s what fistfuls
of Ibuprofen were for.

  I got on my radio. “This is Pitt. I’ve safely reached the bottom.”

  “Bottom of what? Oh, that’s right. You can’t tell me that. Still all clear up here,” Eddings radioed back. Our Las Vegas team lead and one of his men were ready to hoist our butts out in a hurry if security showed up. “Jones is on his way down now.”

  That was good news, because we really weren’t supposed to be in here. The five of us had dressed as construction workers and snuck into the ruins of the Last Dragon at three in the morning. The section of the Strip in front was a massive around-the-clock construction project. There was a fence around the Last Dragon, but the MCB had finished their operation, and all they’d left behind was a small security team of rent-a-cops.

  It had been a weird feeling going back inside this place. The casino had been completely trashed. Big swaths of it had been blown to pieces and there was a giant sinkhole right in the middle where the Nachtmar’s nightmare dragon had crawled out.

  The MCB had done a masterful job successfully covering up one of the biggest public monster events in US history. It had been the crowning achievement of Myers’s career as a professional bullshit artist. And life in Las Vegas was returning to normal.

  Since this was some of the most valuable commercial real estate in the world, demolition crews were scheduled to tear the place down soon. I assumed it was scrubbed, but just in case the MCB still had a presence here we didn’t know about, two more of Eddings’s Hunters were out front on lookout. None of the Las Vegas team knew what Milo and I were doing here, but Earl had told them we were on a special assignment for him, and that had to be good enough.

  “It bugs me we can’t tell these guys what we’re up to,” Milo said. “Eddings is solid. He wouldn’t tell anybody.”

  “I’m sure he’s great, but I made a promise to try and keep Management secret. He’s probably going to be ticked off as it is that I told our team.”

  “I know. It still sucks though.”

  “True that.” At least I’d never had the chance to sign that NDA, because I’m pretty sure Management hadn’t been bluffing about the lawsuits. I could see the light bouncing above as Trip descended. He was faster at it than me, but not nearly as graceful as Milo. “Almost there, man!”