Larry Correia: Monster Hunter International

"IRS?" Harbinger removed the cigarette and blew smoke out his nose. He absently scratched himself. "I bet some certain committee heads are loving us right about now. Probably even the senators who need to approve the appointment of the next head of the Monster Control Bureau."

Myers looked like he had a foul taste in his mouth. "Fine. I'll call off the heat. You're golden for now. But when your people screw up again, your asses are mine."

"Buddy, you should never tell a naked man that his ass is yours," Harbinger said, totally deadpan. Franks snorted. I think it was almost a human laugh. Myers whirled around and glared at his subordinate. "I've just got one question for you."

"What?" Myers snapped, visibly agitated.

"Once the battle started, and everything went down here, how come you guys didn't just nuke the place to be sure?"

"Who says we didn't try?" Myers answered cryptically. He turned his back on Harbinger and stomped away.

"Hey, Franks," Julie called out to the silent Fed.

"Yeah?" he grunted.

"I heard that you guys didn't cut my dad's head off. I heard that you let him turn, and that he escaped." Julie asked. There was a current of anger in her voice. "Because if that was true, I would be… disappointed. So, is he still alive?"

Franks took his time composing an answer. His cold eyes studied us.

"No." He nodded grimly, and then followed after his boss.

We watched him go.

"Think he's lying?" I asked.

"I don't know," Julie answered. "I'm sure we'll find out soon enough."

"I know one thing for sure," I said slowly. The others waited. "I know we need to get Earl some pants." The king of the werewolves laughed.

We stopped by the National Guard soldiers to thank them for their help in the battle. Sergeant Gregorius was offered a business card and invited to come see us if he was interested in a lucrative career in beating down evil. Turns out that Boone had already done the sales pitch, and the big soldier had already volunteered for the next Newbie class. I was not surprised. For people like us, Monster Hunting was a calling.

The compound was somber that day as we held fifteen funerals. The fallen were decapitated, cremated, and their remains sent back to their families along with whatever the made-up excuse was for that particular Hunter. Sometimes having a job that had to be kept secret from most of the world was a real bummer. The team leads had to make the phone calls, and I did not envy them at all. The next few days were quiet ones. There were far too many new plaques on the wall.

We watched the news anxiously, just like everybody else in the world. Gradually the panic over the missing five minutes died down, and people, being people, moved past it. Cults were formed, wars were started, nut cases blew stuff up, books were written, theories published, and everyone came away with their own interpretation of the events. As for MHI, we just kept our big mouths shut.

Milo's wedding reception had mutated into one heck of a party. The compound had been decorated and looked pretty festive for a paramilitary fortress hidden in the backwoods. It was good to have many of the MHI staff united again, this time under much happier circumstances.

The Amazing Newbie Squad sat around a table off to one side in the boisterous cafeteria. Holly was in the process of getting wasted. Trip was frowning in disapproval. Lee was tapping his cane on the floor in time with the music. The dance floor was crowded, and Milo and his new bride appeared to be dancing a cross between the hokey pokey and the funky chicken.

"So are you going to take Earl's offer?" I asked Lee, shouting over the noise.

He sighed, distracted from the spectacle. "I suppose. I've been on exactly three missions and been injured on all of them. Doctor Nelson says my leg is going to have permanent nerve damage." He held up his cane and shook it. "I can't be out there beating monster ass with you guys anymore, so I would be a sucker not to take it."

"Good. You're the best man for the job. The archives will be in good hands," Trip stated. He looked strange with the shaved head, but the dreads had to go to make room for bandages after the battle at DeSoya Caverns. Personally I thought Trip looked better. Apparently Holly thought so as well.

"Trip, you sexy geek. Damn it, let's dance." She stood up and grabbed his hand. He began to protest weakly, but he was no match for a determined Holly. I had to laugh as she dragged him out on the dance floor. They made a weird couple.

"Hey." I felt a hand fall on my shoulder. It was Harbinger, looking slightly inebriated and unusually happy. He tossed a small object on the table. "Here."

"What's up, Earl?" I asked as I picked it up.

"It's official. Grant's turned in his resignation. Moving to Hollywood to consult on a big horror movie or some nonsense." He snorted. Grant had not been his usual cocky self since his kidnapping, and he had never spoken about what he had seen or experienced while in the vampires' clutches. I was not surprised to see him go, but I was surprised to discover I might actually miss him. Almost. "Sam's heading out to set up the new team in Denver. So I'm really shorthanded."

I studied the little flat object. "And this way you can keep an eye on me?"

"Promise not to destroy the world or anything and we shouldn't have a problem." He winked at me and left. I twirled the patch between my fingers.

I would wear the green happy face with pride.

It was a few months later, right after Harbinger's team had returned from a difficult contract in the Philippines. Julie and I were at the Shackleford ancestral home. I had volunteered to help her work on the renovations to the old house. I was not particularly skilled at home repair, but I could do manual labor with the best of them. Mostly I loved the opportunity it gave me to spend time with her. I had bought an engagement ring, but so far I had not worked up the courage to actually ask her. Wrestle with ancient evil, fight aswangs, blow up lindwyrms, or fish for luskas? No problem. Ask the woman I love to marry me? Terrifying.

We were sitting in the formal living room. The paint was drying, and I had to admit that it was going to look great. We had returned the missing portrait of Raymond Shackleford Jr. to its spot on the wall. We weren't expecting guests, and having the blank spot kind of ruined the symmetry. I had joked that we should just paint a beard and glasses on Earl's picture so that we wouldn't have to worry about taking it down when company came over. I could tell that Julie had been tempted.

It was about 11:00 p.m. when there was a loud knock on the door.

"Somebody's here," I said stupidly.

Julie was startled from the couch. She reached above the mantle and took down the hidden shotgun, tossed it over to me and, without thinking, I caught it. She took down a carbine and checked the chamber. "Perimeter alarm didn't sound," she said quickly.

"Aw hell." I pumped the 870 and started for the front door. "What now?"

The front entryway smelled of wood glue and sawdust. I approached the door, and signaled silently for her to cover me. Julie moved to the side, and took up a position behind one of the interior columns.

I unlocked the five heavy deadbolts. The ornate doorknob was unusually cold under my fingertips. I kept my right hand on the grip of the shotgun and kept it ready. I turned the knob and yanked the door open. I stepped back, ready to fire.

Nothing.

I sliced the pie, slowly cornering around the opening. The porch was clear. I shined the weapon-mounted light into the darkness. I could not see anything in the yard or in the parking area.

"Did we just get doorbell ditched?" I asked.

"Wait, there's a note." Julie approached cautiously. A small white envelope had been shoved under the door. She cradled the carbine in her arms as she tore it open.