“You’re sure?” Paxton asked.
Julie nodded. “I believe our source is trustworthy and his methods are reliable.”
“Well, we can’t just leave them there.” Paxton sighed. “If roles were reversed, and it was any of us left behind and VanZant here instead, we all know what he would do.”
“Come hell or high water,” Boss Shackleford spoke for the first time. “John would try to get us back.”
The room was dead silent. That had done it. I could tell they were all in. The unquestionable character of a man who wasn’t even here had just sealed the deal.
“So that’s the overview.” All eyes turned back to me. “This mission has two goals. Rescue our guys. Destroy Asag.”
Trip closed his laptop. Somebody else turned the lights back on. The Hunters were silent for a long time, but there wouldn’t be any objections over should we do the mission, but now we got to the tough part of how?
“You’re certain this gate aligns in a hundred and thirty something days?” Boone asked. “That’s not that much time to put together an operation of this magnitude.”
“You’re right. It’s complex. It’ll be a challenge. We’ve still got a lot to learn. This requires planning and preparation, but it is doable.”
“I hate to be the ugly fact lady,” Mayorga interjected. “But it’s overseas. How do we collect PUFF? This isn’t going to be cheap.”
Only a few of us knew about Management and his donations, and we couldn’t let word of a mysterious benefactor get out. Julie was ready to field that one for me. “I had the lawyers double check. If the MCB classifies a particular threat high enough, like world threatening, then it doesn’t matter which jurisdiction you bag it in. And same thing goes for any minions in its service.”
“Just don’t leave the planet to do it. That’s how they got out of paying me for the Dread Overlord on a technicality,” I said.
The experienced Hunters exchanged glances with each other across the table, and then they looked to Earl, who in turn looked to his son. “What do you think, Boss?”
“We’re talking about laying siege to the City of Monsters with a whole army of Hunters…” The Boss pondered on it for a moment. “This could possibly be the largest single mission this company has ever taken on.”
“Yep,” Earl said simply. “There’s a lot of risk.”
The Boss nodded. “It sure would be something to see though, wouldn’t it?”
Earl Harbinger grinned. “Damned right it would.”
And just like that, Operation Siege got the green light.
* * *
When the meeting was over hours later, I had gone out in the hall to think. Julie found me out there alone.
“You okay, Hon?”
Earl had given assignments and put everybody to work. Most of them made sense with who would be overseeing what. Cody on defenses—both mundane and magical—Paxton on research, Boone, Priest, and Mayorga on logistics, tactics, and transportation, Julie handling the teaming arrangements with other companies, that sort of thing…But one assignment in particular didn’t make a lick of sense.
“What the hell did Earl mean I’m XO?”
She patted me on the shoulder and gave me a very patient smile. “He’s in charge, but you are his right hand. For the actual combat he’s putting the team leads in charge. Before that all the little stuff is going to go through you. You take responsibility for whatever he thinks needs doing. Something comes up, you handle it.”
“Yeah, I know what executive officer means in context here, but why?” I was feeling a little overwhelmed. My chest felt like I needed to take a hit off an inhaler, and I hadn’t used one of those in years. “There are Hunters in there with way more experience. I’m not—“
“Oh, bullshit.” My wife said that in the kindest way possible. “This was your idea. You’ve seen it through this far, Earl wants you to see it through to the end.”
“But on a mission, you’re always his second in command.”
“Normally, sure.” Julie gave me a look like I was stupid. “On D-Day I’ll be almost eight months pregnant. How’s that supposed to work? And if we’re up there for long, ‘Hang on, Mister horrifying ancient monster from hell, my water just broke. I’ll get back to killing you in a minute after I deliver this giant super baby.’”
“Aw hell.” I’d known that. We’d avoided talking about it much, but ever since we’d gotten the dates from Poly, we’d known there was no way Julie could be anywhere near the line of fire. Somebody had to keep the day to day operations of this company running while the rest of us were off on our big Arctic adventure. “You’re right. And our giant super baby is going to be adorable…I hate that I’m not going to be here for you.”
Julie just shook her head. “I’m a Monster Hunter, who married a Monster Hunter. I don’t think either of us were under any romantic delusions about how life consuming our jobs are.”
It wasn’t just Julie and the baby, but my dad was on his death bed, and I wasn’t there for him. That sick feeling in my stomach was because I knew that I was going to do what I had to do. “Regardless, I should be here for the birth of our child.”
“Sure you should. Only we’re in danger, and that comes first. You want to be there for important life changing events? Great. But you know how many deployed soldiers have said that exact same thing throughout history? All of them. But they couldn’t be there, because they had a job to do first. They’re absent then, because they’ve got to defend their homes, so those kids they weren’t there to see born can have a chance to grow up safe.”
She had me there. “You’re a tough chick.”
“Not really. Right now I’m an emotional basket case of warring hormones. I’ve just had more time to think about this while you’ve been jet setting around the world putting together your invasion.” She laughed. “You want to feel guilty, fine. You can make it up to me later. But now, get your head on straight. Earl’s got faith in you. Don’t let him down.”
“I won’t.”
“I love you.” Julie engulfed me in a hug. “Get the mission done and then come back. That’s the important thing. Bring everybody home safe.”
I held her for a long time.
CHAPTER 8
Being Earl’s XO meant that I got every oddball assignment he didn’t feel like dealing with himself, which was how I’d wound up arranging a peace summit. This mission needed all the help it could get. MHI’s adopted orc tribe had already pledged their support, which was fantastic. A single orc healer was worth three trauma surgeons, orc warriors were bad mothers, and Skippy was fantastic air support.
However, we would be facing a creature that used black magic, in a place that absolutely oozed the stuff. We needed to be able to defend ourselves from dark powers, disembodied spirits, and curses beyond human understanding. Since mankind sucked at that sort of thing, that meant calling upon beings more enlightened than we were for such endeavors.
Which—sadly—meant we needed elves. Social issues aside, everyone agreed they were good at all that magic crap. The queen talked a big game about being on disability, but she had no problem hiring her people out for odd jobs, all under the table of course.
Unless there was an orc involved, then no deal.
Elves and orcs despised each other. Our tribe didn’t even like living in the same time zone as the Queen of the elves. Working together was out of the question. It went back a long time. The animosity was older than man, and both sides agreed it started when they were both enslaved by the Fey. Nobody alive knew how the feud began, but they were both sure it was the other side’s fault.
MHI had one single elven employee, Tanya, and Chief Skippy had raised hell about us hiring her. Only the intervention of his brother Edward had prevented a…strike? Riot? Beats me. But I didn’t want to see what happened when an orc tribe got pissed off and hoisted the black flag.
But the main reason the Orcs didn’t strike was because Tanya was all into Ed, and Ed was fond o
f Tanya. I think…It was hard to tell with that whole interspecies romance thing, and frankly it was none of my business. The situation might have gone all Romeo and Juliet on us, except Ed was the tribe’s best warrior, and Tanya was just so damned chipper that even Skippy seemed to be gradually softening to her presence. Plus I don’t think metal heads or rednecks were big on poisoning or suicide, so we had that going for us.
But accepting more elves? Hell no. And there was no way the Queen was going to entrust any of her valuable trackers on a mission with a bunch of orcs.
Not wanting to die, cursed and insane, on an arctic rock, I’d asked Ed and Tanya to arrange this meeting. Ed had annoyed his brother into it and Tanya had called home to the Enchanted Forest, to beg her mother to attend. She was still kind of on the outs there for abandoning her birthright, but Queen Ilrondelia or “mama” as Tanya called her, still wanted Tanya a cut of her PUFF earnings back to the trailer park, so had agreed to meet and parley. We had to pick neutral ground, which in this case was a barbeque place north of Tuscaloosa.
This made for the weirdest damned peace talks ever.
The brisket was good, the pulled pork was the best I’d ever had, and the décor was NASCAR themed. The owner was a retired Hunter doing us a favor. He had given his employees the day off, put up the Closed sign, and cooked us a feast. When the Queen heard the food would be free—and afterwards there would be an open bar should they come to terms—she had brought her whole entourage all the way from the Enchanted Forest Trailer Park. So not to be outdone, Skippy had brought an equal number of his people. The parking lot was full of dilapidated pickup trucks and other clunkers.
The mood inside wasn’t particularly festive. There were ten surly elves on one side of the room, and ten grumpy orcs on the other, mutually stained in barbeque sauce, but glaring at each other. I’d thought ahead and unplugged the juke box to keep a fight from breaking out over metal versus country music. At least we’d gotten both sides to check their weapons at the door. Trip was minding a gigantic pile of guns, knives, totem sticks, billy clubs, saps, axe handles, a single stick of dynamite, and even some cheap Chinese throwing stars. I’d even specified plastic cups, so nobody would be tempted to smash a beer bottle and then stab somebody with it.
We’d stuck one table in the dead center of the room. As moderator, I was in the middle. On one side of me was Skippy and Ed. On the other was Tanya and the Queen. We’d brought in a special, reinforced comfy chair for her, because the Queen was one big lady. Because this was such a historical diplomatic occasion, she didn’t even have any curlers in her hair. Skippy had worn his favorite Black Sabbath world tour shirt. We had gotten through the introductions, my proposal, and dinner with a minimal number of threats, insults, and walk outs.
“Y’all hunters ain’t gonna last in no monster city.” The Queen had put a hurting on a few plates of brisket, and practically drank a bottle of ranch dressing, so now it was time for business. She wiped her greasy face with a wet wipe and tossed it on the floor. “Y’all need elves, keeping the forces of e-ville off your backs.”
“Yes, your majesty. That’s exactly why we’re here.”
“Y’all need elves, but don’t nobody need no filthy orc trash.”
“Mama!”
Uh oh. The orc side of the room began grumbling.
“Urks better,” Skippy stated. “Pointy ear cow dumb.”
Several orcs laughed. Like most sounds that came out of an orc it was a guttural, deep, gravely—yet surprisingly cheerful—noise. That caused the elf side of the room to stand up and start shouting.
Well, the Queen didn’t stand up. Obviously. She filled her seat so thoroughly that I was worried we’d need a livestock hoist to get her out. “Who you calling cow, pig face?”
Skippy showed his tusks proudly, and then gave her a rude gesture that he’d probably learned from his adopted human brethren. Elves began throwing plastic cups. I needed to do something before the orcs started throwing chairs.
“Enough!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs. Julie had prepped me well beforehand how to avoid a rumble. I was all culturally educated and stuff. “Sit your hillbilly asses down!” That stopped the elves. Then I turned down the volume and looked Skippy square in his yellow eyes. “Insults at this table bring shame to the brother of the Great War Chief.”
Skippy slowly nodded. Mosh wasn’t even here, but I wasn’t above using my brother’s cred to my own advantage. Orc culture respected rock stars above all else, so making me look bad wasn’t very metal of them.
“Bunch of tuskers hootin’ and hollerin’!” The Queen exclaimed. Which was funny since it wasn’t like orcs were a particularly noisy people, but she seemed genuinely upset. “They wouldn’t be so uppity if my princess hadn’t been runnin’ ’round wit one of ’em. She’s my precious baby. I’m pained thinkin’ ’bout this green skin puttin’ his grimy paws all over her!”
Tanya was a young lady by elf standards, and right then she just looked embarrassed by her mother‘s behavior. “But, Mama, I love Ed!”
That caused most of the assembled orcs and elves to groan. At least they had something they could agree on.
“Meh…Skippy bet…Edward not first one there.”
“Hey!” Tanya hurled her empty plastic cup at Skip’s head, but I blocked it in midflight.
“Tanya, stand down. Skippy, please.”
“No insult…Fact. Ed great warrior. Could do better.”
“You just gonna sit there and let your brother talk trash about your girlfriend?” Tanya demanded. By trailer park elf standards, Tanya was hot, and she knew it. She was rocking the big hair, tank top, cut offs, and tramp stamp. “I’m royalty!”
Luckily, Ed seemed as content and mellow as usual. Which was good, because realistically Ed could probably kill everybody in the room with just his fork. All orcs were supernaturally blessed with one gift, and Ed’s was stabbing things. He just leaned back in his chair, and grunted something unintelligible. The two orcs argued back and forth for a minute, and in English or Orcish, Ed was an orc of few words. Finally, frustrated, Skippy just threw his hands up in the air, like whatever.
I wasn’t renting an entire barbeque joint just to participate in their little soap opera. It was time to cut to the chase. “Okay, listen up. I’m not a relationship councilor. You guys can settle your personal drama later.”
“But Skippy’s being a dick! I understand Orcish. He was saying Ed ain’t ever gonna get a bunch of other wives if his first wife’s an elf! Newsflash, chief, with me, he don’t need no more other wives. I take care of my man!”
“Tanya…” I used my stern voice. She was actually an MHI employee, had potential as a Hunter, and really wanted to keep her job, so she was one of the only ones here I had any actual leverage on. “Remember what we’re here for.”
“Fine.” Tanya folded her arms and skulked. Mama seemed offended on her behalf.
Theoretically, I’d been given this assignment because from the first time we’d met, Queen Ilrondelia had recognized that I had a cosmic destiny and all that jazz. Supposedly that gave me some kind of clout in the Elven court. Or that was all bullshit, and Earl just didn’t want to have to deal with trailer park diplomacy that he knew would probably end up looking like a domestic disturbance on an episode of Cops.
Here’s hoping. I addressed her as politely as possible. “Your majesty, I assure you that I would not have troubled your valuable time if this mission wasn’t of the utmost importance.”
“Well, you is the Dreamer. You’d know.”
“I am. I know what’s coming. The world is in terrible danger, only this time we have a chance to stop it early. Only MHI needs your help. We need your powerful magic. I’m pleading with you. Please. The world needs the infinite wisdom of your people.”
“Suck up,” Skippy muttered under his breath.
“Now more than ever, MHI needs the help of the elves.”
Oh, she liked that. The only thing worse than an elf was a smug elf.
“Damned right y’all do.”
“And…we need the help of the Orcs.”
Skippy threw the horns.
A scowl caused her multiple chins to flex, revealing that the last wet wipe had missed a whole lot of ranch and barbeque sauce, like a sticky, off-color zebra. The queen was shifty, way smarter than she looked, and searching for an angle. “An if’n we don’t?”
I started with an appeal to her pride. “Then you’re going to have to live with the knowledge that a bunch of orcs helped save the world, and even though the elves had the chance to rise to the occasion, you didn’t.”
“Sure would be nice, for my kin to go over there wit’ y’all. Show up them snooty Yur-upeen elves. Thinkin’ they’s better than us.”
“I know how you feel.” Actually, no, I didn’t. European elves were supposed to be more traditional, but they had a rep for being aloof, snooty, and wouldn’t work for humans. Her wanting American elves to look tough to their cousins was great and all, but as Earl liked to say, money talks while bullshit walks. It was time to seal the deal. I reached under the table and pulled out a fat, rubber banded stack of hundred dollar bills, put the money on the table, and slid it toward her. “And you’d miss out on the signing bonus.”
Her beady little eyes darted toward the cash. Skippy looked at it too, but he yawned. We paid the Orcs, but they didn’t really have much use for money beyond downloading music and buying Warg shampoo.
“What’s in it for the tuskers?” she asked suspiciously.
“MHI our tribe,” Skip said simply, like that was the most blatantly obvious truth in the universe ever, you greedy elf. “Duh.”
But that wasn’t entirely true, Skippy had already specified their reward. Trip and I owed the orc village another classic movie marathon, where we provided helpful live commentary explaining all the confusing human stuff, and snacks. The last one had been a big hit. Skippy had hated Red Dawn because the helicopters weren’t correct, Ed was disappointed the Predator wasn’t real because he wanted to fight one, but the whole tribe had really loved Conan the Barbarian.
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