sure I wasn’t giving away any state secrets. So I pointed him out as one of the heroes of the Arbmunep fight, not that I had any idea what he had actually done during that particular fight, since I’d been rather preoccupied at the time. The young agent’s cheeks grew red with embarrassment, but since I’d now singled him out as one of the good guys, he was pretty much trapped into agreeing with me about how stupendous everything had been.
I finished the story with, “And the worst part, since the Dread Overlord wasn’t actually on Earth, we didn’t get to put in for the PUFF bounty!” Most of the Hunters laughed, while a couple of translators hurried to finish the story, and then their charges laughed too. A few of the Hunters didn’t join in, and these were the ones that thought I was full of crap. I couldn’t particularly blame them, since if I hadn’t witnessed the mountain-sized squid god, I wouldn’t have believed myself either.
One German in particular was looking at me like I’d pushed his grandmother off her walker. “You speak about creatures of unbelievable horror so flippantly, I wonder perhaps if you have ever actually seen one.” He was of average height, fit but not big, probably forty, with a neatly trimmed beard and a very stern demeanor. “A great Old One is nothing to joke about. Even speaking of them draws their ire.”
“You think talking about them makes them angry, try hitting one with an alchemical super weapon. I don’t think we’ve met…”
He immediately handed me a rather nice business card. “Klaus Lindemann. I am the commander of Grimm Berlin.” That was one of the companies that Earl had referred to as all right. Several of the other Hunters had apparently heard of the German team as well, because there were some impressed-sounding whispers from the crowd. I stuck the card in my pocket. “I intend no disrespect—”
“That’s normally what someone usually says right before they disrespect you,” I said as I handed him one of my business cards. Owen Z. Pitt. Combat Accountant.
“Yes…but your tale is absurd.”
“You don’t have to take my word for it.”
Lindemann sniffed. “I did not intend to.”
“Agent Archer!”
The Fed jumped, not used to being pointed out in a group of Hunters. He swallowed hard, and Archer was one of those skinny types with the pronounced Adam’s apple, so his discomfort was extra obvious. “Yeah?”
“Sorry about blowing your cover.” Several of the Hunters laughed at that, since the guys with black suits and earpieces were obviously MCB. It didn’t matter what country you were from, every Hunter knew about the MCB, if not personally, then at least by reputation. “Care to tell our honored guests about how me and Franks blasted the Dread Overlord?”
Archer was like a deer in the headlights. I knew from experience that he was pretty decent at lying to the press, but this wasn’t a bunch of ignorant dupes to be led around by the nose. These folks made their livings killing things that weren’t supposed to exist. “I…uh, can neither confirm nor deny…” He looked around nervously at all the waiting Hunters. “There’s an official MCB press release concerning the events in New Zealand…and…Shoot…That’s all I can say.”
“Thank you, Agent.” Just having the official type corroborate that something had happened was even better, because now their imaginations would fill in the blanks. It gave my story a certain air of legitimacy. “It was really neat. Giant alien death tree and crazy cultists. You guys would’ve loved it.” Archer realized too late that since he hadn’t simply shot me down, he had sort of verified my story to the others, which I’m positive hadn’t been his assignment. The young agent tried to be discreet as he fled the crowd, probably worried that his superiors were going to chew him a new one.
“It’s real enough,” an Englishman told Lindemann. “The New Zealand government
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