“How’s my Hunter? The big fella with the glass eye?”
“We’ve got him cleaned up, sir. He’s very ill. The doctor said it could take him a while, but he should recover.”
That was good news. Earl took his time getting dressed. Myers could wait. He was probably busy anyway, what with organizing the cover-up. This one was sure to be one hell of a doozy. Hopefully, Myers wouldn’t use it as an excuse to finally have him executed. Satisfied that he was as presentable as he could be in a borrowed set of Army digital camouflage, Earl followed the officer out to a waiting Hummer. The air was crisp and the sky was clear. Copper Lake smelled like dead werewolves, blood, and smoke. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.
Special Agent Dwayne Myers was using what had been the mayor’s office. The room was packed with MCB agents and military personnel, poring over maps and arguing loudly. Myers just frowned when Earl entered and snapped, “Everybody out. Out.”
Earl waited as the men shuffled past him and out the door. “Hey, Dwayne.”
“Earl.” There was no offer to shake hands or any other false pleasantries. His old teammate had aged since they’d last spoken. His skin was pale, like he’d been spending too much time indoors, his hair was thinning, and he’d lost weight that he couldn’t afford to lose. Even his suit looked more battered than normal. Myers had been run ragged. He gestured at a metal folding chair.
Earl took a seat. He was still smoking but didn’t think the rules about not smoking inside government buildings applied after complete anarchy had set in. “So, what’s the story going to be this time?”
“Too rural for a plausible terrorist attack. One of my junior men talked to the press too quickly, said that the mine tunnels under the town had caught on fire and that hundreds had been killed in the resulting explosion. Moron forgot it’s a copper mine, not coal. Right now I’m leaning toward radon gas. But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”
Myers didn’t sit behind the desk, as Earl had expected, and instead wandered over to the window and watched a helicopter landing in the school parking lot. He didn’t speak for a very long time.
If the MCB was going to revoke his PUFF exemption, they would’ve done it already. Something else was wrong. “I’m assuming you wanted to question my account…” When Myers still didn’t respond, Earl was surprised to find that he was actually concerned. Myers was a prick, but he was a reliable prick. “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m not.” Myers shook his head and gave a sad little chuckle, still looking out the window. “It’s speeding up…isn’t it?”
“What do you mean?”
“The events. More incidents every month. They don’t seem to be related, but the stats just keep climbing.”
Monster attacks were still high. MHI was hopping, there was no doubt about that, but Myers was privy to a lot more intel than he was. He waited for the agent to continue.
“A few years ago, we broke time, nearly opened a portal in Alabama. Scared the shit out of the entire world, but we passed it off as a natural phenomena. Then the Arbmunep in New Zealand. You have no idea how hard that thing was to bury. Then you probably didn’t even hear about what happened in California recently. It was big, but we dropped Franks in and locked it down quick. It’s always something different…but they’re coming faster and faster, like never before. There are so many things I can’t even tell you about.”
“Keeping secrets from the people is hard work, but you already know my opinion on that bullshit policy.”
“It’s not just keeping monsters secret anymore. Something’s coming, Earl. I can feel it. It’s not just us, either. The South Africans lost a village six months ago, and we still don’t know what did it. Something big happened in a rural area in China just last week, but they won’t tell us a thing. Now this.”
It was truly odd to have the ultra tight-lipped MCB agent speaking so freely. The government looked at contractors like MHI as a necessary evil, and that was on a good day. “Why tell me this?”
“Because you get it. My superiors don’t. They’re in denial, and they’re getting tired of me pushing the issue. They think they can throw enough money and bodies at it and the problem will go away.…You know how I feel about MHI.”
“Irrational hatred seems to be the words that come to mind.”
“You’re reckless, careless, and dangerous, but, though it pains me to admit it, you’re also effective. Enemy of my enemy is my friend and all that. Just think about what I said. I want you to be ready, Earl. I don’t know for what, but just be ready.”
“Point me at the fight and make sure the checks don’t bounce. MHI is always ready.”
It was back to business as usual. Myers turned away from the window, came over and sank into a cushioned swivel chair. “Now, about your statement. Everything seems in order. According to the locals, you made a big difference here. Even Agent Stark mostly agrees with your account, though he says there was one other surviving werewolf, a sheriff’s deputy that was recently turned. So, before you can go, there’s just one thing we need to clear up about these other werewolves first.…”
Earl had been honest. Mostly. “Some died in town. The last of them, including Deputy Kerkonen, were blown up at the Quinn Mine. I want the PUFF on them, the digging things, and all the undead divided up and paid to each of this town’s survivors. For the one that started all this, I’m going to demand a one-of-a-kind PUFF finding on him. He was a divine-werewolf hybrid, so he’s going to cost you big. I’ll do the paperwork myself. You’ll find that particular werewolf at the bottom of the shaft in two pieces.”
Myers put his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “Yes, about him…”
“His name was Adam Conover.”
“He doesn’t exist.”
Earl angrily shook his head. “Don’t play games. He was government property. A pet monster gone rogue. He was one of yours.”
“Not one of mine, Earl. Don’t bring him up again, don’t talk about him, and forget he ever existed.”
“So, that’s how it has to be?”
“That’s how it is.”Myers rubbed his face in his hands, as if debating what to say. “Off the record, he worked for an operation you do not want to cross. MCB is a shield. They’re a sword, or maybe a poisoned dagger would be more appropriate. They answer only to the highest levels. They’re small, but they deal with things that I wouldn’t want my agency to touch with a ten-foot pole. Nobody talks about them and lives long. Am I clear?”
If there was one thing that werewolves knew, it was how to keep secrets. “Crystal.”