“Mr. Foster…I’ve been ordered to tolerate you people. If you ever mention Nemesis around me again that tolerance ends, along with your life.” He said it in such a way, so casually, that there was absolutely no doubt he was telling the truth. “Tell Stricken that I’ll follow the president’s directive, but the next STFU toady that annoys me leaves in a bag.” Franks must have given a little squeeze because Foster yelped in pain. “Understand?” Foster nodded vigorously and scurried away. It was amazing how fast roles could reverse with good old-fashioned threats of serious bodily harm. Franks turned, looked right at me, and began walking my way, taking long, angry strides.

Uh-oh…

I thought about running, but if he was mad at me, it wouldn’t have done any good. I stood my ground. “Franks.”

He stopped in front of me. “Pitt.” It was obvious that he’d known I was listening. Well, he had just said he could see in the dark.

“So, what’s Project Nemesis?”

“Classified.”

“Decision Week?”

“Classified.”

“Okay then…” We both stood there awkwardly for a moment. I looked around the desert, stuck my hands in my pockets, and began to whistle.

Franks seemed pained. “Still want to help?”

That had to have been difficult for him. “Sounds like you’re thinking about doing something through unofficial channels.”

He shrugged.

“Depends. Will the president be upset?”

“I’ve killed ogres smarter than this administration,” Franks answered unexpectedly. Rather than wait for my answer, he began walking toward one of the parked MCB helicopters.

It was a difficult and dangerous choice. Get involved in power struggles that were way over my head and maybe get some answers, or stay put and miss out on information relating to some very strange and potentially world-altering events. I really didn’t have a choice. Being a Monster Hunter isn’t just a job for some of us, it’s a calling. I was a meat shield for the entire human race. Innocent people were alive because of the hard choices I’d made and the risks I’d taken. It was a track record that I’d like to keep.

I’m such a sucker. I followed him.

“Where are we going?”

“Classified.”

It was shaping up to be a long night.

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

I left a message with Julie telling her that I would be out of pocket for a bit, couldn’t say where I was going, how long I’d be gone, but not to worry, I’d explain later, and that I’d find a ride home. It says a lot about our relationship that that wasn’t a particularly strange call by our standards.