“My folks will stay and we’ll take care of this thing, and I bet most of the other companies would volunteer too, but for the love of God, let us evacuate the others. They’ve got nothing to do with this. They’re sitting ducks in here.”

Stark’s chins trembled. “Well…” he looked to the side as someone off screen addressed him. From the background, I was guessing that he was in some sort of armored vehicle, probably right outside. “I can’t allow that. My hands are tied.”

“How many innocents are you willing to let die this time? You want another Copper Lake on your hands?” Earl’s voice was low and dangerous.

“No, of course not.” He sputtered. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to prevent. This entity can’t be allowed into the city.”

“You learned what it is, didn’t you? What’s in here with us?”

“I can’t say. That’s classified.” Stark kept glancing nervously to his left. “You’ve got twenty-four hours to get a confirmed kill on this thing, or we’ll be forced to take drastic measures.”

“Drastic? You intend to burn this place down with all of us in it, don’t you?”

“I did you a favor getting that much of a delay approved. I put my neck on the line for you. You were lucky to get twenty-four hours.” Stark was turning red. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Then tell me!”

“I…” Stark glanced left again. “I can’t.”

“If you can’t, then put somebody on who can.”

“I’m the final authority on this mission.”

“Bullshit. You’re a lap dog for Special Task Force Unicorn. Put Stricken on.”

Stark blanched when he heard those words, but he tried to recover. “I’m the head of the MCB. Don’t question my authority!”

Earl’s voice turned into a low growl. The assembled Hunters all took an unconscious step away from him. “Now.”

Stark hesitated, glancing to the side one last time. He listened quietly, then, resigned, shuffled out of view without another word. A moment later he was replaced with the narrow, unnaturally pale face of Mr. Stricken, who seemed to fold his long body into the space. His odd-colored glasses hid his eyes. “Harbinger,” he greeted without emotion.

“What’ve you done to us, Stricken?”

“I merely offered you a lucrative business opportunity. I thought it was some Decision Week dreg that needed a fast cleanup. It wasn’t until a couple of hours ago that I was briefed on the particularly nasty nature of this case. If I had been aware of the threat level sooner, I would have dealt with this matter internally. If you have anyone in there who isn’t already familiar with the basic facts of that incident, send them out of the room now. They’ll thank me later.”

None of the Hunters moved.