“Which they never found, thankfully. It wasn’t until ten years ago, when a new canal was being dug in the city and their chamber was accidentally flooded. The water released them from their slumber. The Bundeswehr asked for our expertise in the cleanup. Only the beasts escaped the tunnels and entered a neighborhood. It was…horrific…We destroyed them all, wiped them out completely, but in the process Hugo and I were all that survived from our team.”

“That’s why you said these things were impossible.”

“The artistry of those creations is like a signature. Those were Herr Schreiber’s work. There is no way that such a particular design could be recreated so accurately, so far away, and in such different circumstances. The alchemical methods were lost hundreds of years ago. It would be like us discovering a Wendigo in Italy or a mermaid in Mongolia. These were special, one of a kind, regional monsters. No, something else is afoot here.”

“We should interview the woman Hugo was with,” Pierre Darne suggested. He was a young man, but struck me as a competent leader, maybe a little nervous, but trying to hide it, sort of like Nate in that respect. He kept his manner professional, though I did notice that he wouldn’t make eye contact with Earl Harbinger. Pierre even looked a bit like his deceased father, tall, thin, handsome, and with an aristocratic sort of air. “Perhaps she saw how it began?”

“She was pretty freaked out, though.” I glanced at Trip. He was far more compassionate than most of us. If anybody could handle a shell-shocked stripper it was Trip. Holly was one of the Hunters that had gone out for the night and hadn’t returned yet, but I could only imagine that she’d just slap the hysterical girl a couple of times and tell her to get a hold of herself. “You got this?”

“I’ve got it,” my friend answered before walking out.

“So this is why government man pays ten million American dollars for a simple spider,” the big Pole said. “I think maybe this case is not so simple after all.”

Earl was nodding in agreement. “It has to be connected. That stupid critter didn’t kill all those people today and disappear an entire Unicorn strike team.”

“Unicorn?” several of the Hunters asked at the same time.

“Special Task Force Unicorn…” Earl answered. “Stricken’s bunch. Shit. Forget I said that name. You don’t want to go around repeating it. Real low-profile bunch. They’re the ones that do the things you don’t ask about. They make MCB look like Boy Scouts.”

“How do you know this?” asked a muscular Greek Hunter who had come to the battle wearing nothing but his underwear.

“Never mind that.” Earl was obviously regretting mentioning the name. “That’s not important right now.”