“You had three years to work on it,” she pointed out.
They’d had this discussion several times. “I had to learn all this from scratch. You’ve got resources, know-how, and one hell of a handsome advisor.”
“You’re rich, too.” Heather folded her arms and watched him with a bit of a smirk. As she had come to accept her new state, Earl found that she’d become increasingly lovely. In his opinion, there was nothing nicer than a pretty girl with the confidence to beat up a polar bear. “Don’t underestimate the attractiveness of the being a millionaire part. Mom always wanted me to find a rich guy.”
“I invested a few PUFFs way back when. That’s the power of compound interest for you.”
“You’re right. I’m ready.” Heather smiled at him. “I’m just going to miss our luxury accommodations is all. Wrap it up, would you? We’ve got a long trip tomorrow. Come to bed.”
“I’ve just got to finish this. When we get to Cazador, I’m going to bury this down in the archives. Maybe it’ll come in handy someday for someone else.”
“You’re pretty serious about recording everything for posterity.” Heather came over to where he was sitting, draped her arms around his neck, and whispered in his ear. “But I bet I can distract you.”
A grin split Earl’s face. “Oh, really?” You got to know someone rather well when you spent an entire winter isolated with them, and Earl knew exactly how distracting Heather could be.
The sound came again in the middle of the night. It was louder this time, and the suddenness of it launched both of them out of bed. Earl was getting dressed as he reached the front door. The noise of the fighter jet lingered on the mountain for a moment. Another aircraft flew past a minute later, skimming terribly low over the lake. It passed the cabin close enough for the noise to rattle snow from the roof.
There were munitions under the wing.
“What was that?” Heather called.
“A flight of F-16s,” Earl answered.
Heather was behind him, buttoning her shirt. “Maybe they’re just on a training flight?”
The first one was banking back over the mountain. “Doubt it.”
“But…you’re okay, and they think I’m dead!”
The fighters gained a bit of altitude and began a long circle around the cabin. Earl watched the orange glow of their exhaust. That was an awful lot of firepower. There was another noise in the distance. A helicopter. “We’ve got company coming. Might as well get presentable.”
“Should we run?”
“Naw,” Earl shook his head. “That’s the thing about Hunters. Once they find you, if you run, it just makes them want to chase you that much harder.”
The conflict on her face was obvious to read. Instinct was telling her to flee, but she trusted him. “You’d better be right, Earl.”
“We’ll see what they’ve got to say. Besides, if they were really out to get us, they’d just have dropped a bomb on the place.”
Earl splashed some water on his face, finished getting dressed, and then confirmed that their belongings were ready to go. They’d already been packed to leave in the morning. Heather was too nervous to talk. Earl did his best to comfort her, but he didn’t know what was happening, either. You didn’t send the air force if you were planning nothing more than a friendly visit. “Stay inside. They might not know about you,” Earl warned Heather before giving her a gentle kiss. “I’ll be right back.”
“You’d better,” she warned him. “I don’t want to do CPR on you again, okay?”
“You’re really good at it, though.”
He closed the door behind him. There was an overhang to protect the entrance from the snow, so Earl lit a cigarette and settled down beneath it to wait. Two minutes later, a Chinook helicopter with no markings landed in front of the cabin. Four armored figures disembarked as soon as the ramp hit the ground. They fanned out in a protective circle while a fifth man strolled down the ramp. The stranger walked directly toward the cabin without even taking the time to orient himself. The four soldiers formed a line behind him and followed.
The stranger was tall, and despite his heavy coat, obviously thin. He trudged along through the snow at an energetic clip. Despite their camouflage-painted, ceramic-plate armor that made MHI’s heavy suits look svelte in comparison, the soldiers kept up. As they got closer, Earl noted that the leader’s head was bared to the elements, and that he was completely, shiny, bald. He was also wearing a pair of oddly colored, orange-lensed sunglasses, even though it was pitch dark.
The Chinook’s twin rotors were still turning, which made it difficult to understand the stranger’s greeting. He had to repeat himself as he got closer. “Good evening, Mr. Harbinger.”
Earl just nodded. “Your helicopter’s messing up my landscaping.”
The soldiers came to a silent halt a polite twenty feet away. Their leader closed the remaining distance and stopped at the overhang. “It won’t be there long.” The stranger appeared to be in his forties, six and a half feet tall, extremely long-limbed and with skin so pale that if Earl hadn’t smelled the warm blood pumping, he would’ve suspected the man was undead. He was borderline gaunt, but his movements gave off a sense of athleticism. He seemed human, just an odd one. “I’m Mr. Stricken.”
Earl made a show of not being able to hear over the chopper. “Sorry? What was that? Strickland?”
“Stricken,” he repeated.
“What? No handshake?” Earl asked.
“I’ve heard your reputation on the subject,” Stricken said. “My hobby is classical piano, so I’d prefer you not to break all the bones in my hand. May I come in?”
“No. What do you want?”
“Just a moment of your time. I can be polite or not. Your decision.” Stricken took off the orange shades, revealing albino eyes. “And I would like to speak to Ms. Kerkonen as well.”
Earl had been afraid of that. “Deputy Kerkonen died at the Quinn Mine.”
“We both know that’s not true. My time’s valuable Mr. Harbinger. Believe me, this isn’t my idea of fun. Cold doesn’t agree with me. Bring her out.”
Earl looked over at the four soldiers. Their helmets had opaque full-face visors, so it was impossible to read their expressions. He had no doubt he could take them. It was the F-16s he didn’t know what to do about. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your file said that you could be a pain in the ass. A satellite has been passing over this area every day for weeks. There’s a redheaded woman here, approximately five foot eight, one hundred and thirty pounds. Nice rack. Spends her free time turning into a werewolf and terrorizing the squirrels. Wave, dumb-shit. You’re on camera,” Stricken said. Earl’s tilted his head to peer suspiciously around the overhang. “Don’t bother looking, you idiot, you can’t see it. It’s in fucking outer space.”
“She can control it. Just like me.”
Stricken’s laugh was mean. “You think I give a shit? You think I’m MCB? They’re losers. You think they’d get permission to go rerouting satellites for one measly lycanthrope? If popping her was my mission, I’d have vaporized this whole valley with one phone call.” The laughter died, and Stricken’s pink eyes bored into Earl. “Call her out.”
This man wasn’t to be trifled with. Earl opened the door a crack. “Heather?”
“I heard,” she muttered as she came through the door and stood proudly at Earl’s side. “What do you want from us?”
“Werewolves have to earn the right to exist. PUFF immunity is a rare and precious thing. Luckily, werewolves are an amazing creature, and I happen to need one.”
Not again. Earl tossed his cigarette butt in the snow. “How long this time?”
“Two years, beginning immediately. Upon satisfactory completion, there will be a certificate granting full PUFF immunity to the bearer.”
“Until the government changes its mind again.”
“Of course. This offer is valid for the next five minutes. Yes or no. If yes, then we board that helicopter and for the next two years you have zero communication with anyone outside of my organization. No friends, no family. For all intents and purposes, you’ll be government property for the next seven hundred thirty days. Seven hundred thirty-one if there’s a leap year. I haven’t checked the calendar.”