Monster Hunter Bloodlines - eARC by Larry Correia (read a book .txt) 📕

in other people’s nightmares, but I didn’t say that. I thought about what Gutterres had shown me. There was no way our new location was a coincidence. “This is about the thing in the jungle the Secret Guard have been fighting.”

“Well, it’s good you’re not a total idiot, Pitt. Yes. Now we’re going to finish what they started. Think of this as the forward operating base for our upcoming expedition.” He gestured around the garage. “Welcome to Rio. Sadly, I doubt any of us will have time to hit the beaches.”

“Rio is nowhere near that part of the Amazon,” I said.

“So you’re an expert on South American geography too?” Stricken said. “No shit. We’re over a thousand miles from the heart of the disturbance, but we’ve got an important meeting to attend here first. You’ll see.”

There were twice as many guns pointed at Franks as there were at me, which meant that Stricken had briefed them on which one of us was more dangerous. However, there were only two of them ready to shoot Sonya, which showed a real lack of judgment on their part. I was worried she might be thinking about trying something stupid, so I caught her eye and gave her a little negative head shake.

Only Sonya gave me one right back, and she tapped one finger to her chest. She wasn’t going anywhere until she could get that rock out of her. Fair enough.

Franks slowly stood up, and it was obvious the soldiers were scared to death of him, which was smart. Especially since Franks was still armed. He slowly and purposefully dusted himself off but left his rifle hang from its sling as he glared at Stricken menacingly. The soldiers looked so nervous and there were so many twitchy fingers resting on triggers that I was kind of surprised Franks didn’t get shot by accident.

“I’d order these guys to disarm you, but we both know that would be insulting and pointless. It’s not like the legendary Agent Franks needs a gun to kill anybody.” Then Stricken looked at me. “Hothead McChosen One, on the other hand, I should probably have them disarm you and pat you down, too, for good measure.”

There was no way I could do anything without getting shot, but I wasn’t about to give Stricken the satisfaction. “From my cold dead hands, motherfucker.”

“Well, they would be room temperature and dead if I have my men kill you, which is kind of the point, Pitt.”

“I’ll pat him down,” the succubus offered. “He’s a sturdy one.”

“Lana, you really need to quit creating a hostile work environment for the new recruits.”

She shrugged and went back to inspecting her claws. She’d painted them festive colors.

“In the spirit of cooperation, everybody can hold onto their guns, but let’s keep it polite. I didn’t bring you here to be prisoners, but rather partners. Besides, my Portuguese is kind of rough when it comes to giving instructions and I don’t want all these jumpy paramilitary types I hired to get the wrong message.”

I looked to the nearest soldier, who had an FAL pointed at my heart, and said in Portuguese, whatever this asshole is paying you, I’ll double it. My Portuguese was archaic crap gleaned from a dead conquistador, and more recently beefed up with some Duo Lingo lessons, but I was pretty sure he got the message. He looked to Stricken.

And of course, Stricken was lying about his language skills, because his accent was so good he probably sounded like a native Brazilian when he told them, “Nao preste atencao a este doido. Ele fale mentiras e pobre demais,” which I was pretty sure translated to: Don’t listen to this idiot. He lies and is poor. Then Stricken looked at me. “We done?”

“We’re done.” I had nothing but loathing for the man, and the only reason I hadn’t shot him myself was all his goons, but . . . Gutterres’ memories had confirmed that the situation was dire, and all of Coslow’s mystic pronouncements had encouraged me to get involved. I walked over to Sonya and offered her a hand to help her up. She didn’t need it. I was just trying to keep my friends close. Not that friend wasn’t a questionable term in this case.

“Hey, what about me?” Sonya said to Stricken. “You said you could get this rock out of me? Let’s get to getting.”

Stricken chuckled. “I should clarify. I know someone who can. But don’t worry, we’re going to meet with them shortly. You’ll just have to wait until then.”

“You son of a bitch,” Sonya said. “You promised.”

“No. I made an offer, and then moved you to a different hemisphere in order to save your life even after you robbed me. Don’t mistake my recent benevolence for patience, because you’re the least necessary member of my new team, rookie. So we’ll get around to fixing your problem in due time. Don’t like it—”

“I walk?”

Stricken actually seemed surprised by how naïve that was. “No. We shoot you and throw your corpse in a ditch. You had your chance with squishy and benevolent MHI, but now you’re with me. Playtime is over. We’ve got shit to do. Screw with my timeline anymore, and I’ll just kill you.” Stricken could ooze menace when he wanted to. There was no doubt he’d have her capped in a heartbeat. “Understood?”

“Got it,” she said sullenly.

“Good. Then you can shut up and wait until we meet with the expert.”

“We wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn’t run off, princess,” I whispered to her.

“Don’t want to hear it.”

“So how about it, Pitt. Are you in or not?”

“I’m only interested in stopping that thing in the jungle.”

“Good. Because I’m the only one who knows how to finish the job. I need someone Chosen, like you or Franks. You need my knowledge.”

Until I could figure out how to handle it myself, or Gutterres seemed to think his friend who had stayed out there knew what to do, then I could arrange for Stricken to accidentally fall on