I was kind of liking Director Cueto’s management style.
“Intel indicated that Stricken has been collecting various magical artifacts, for some as-of-yet undetermined, but certainly nefarious purpose. We set up on this location where we had reason to believe he would be picking up one such item in person. Our raid was forced to launch early due to the arrival of this unknown subject—” Cueto changed the picture again, this time to a photo of the shapeshifter leaping out the window. It was a great action shot. “—who stole the item in question and fled the scene, only to be pursued by members of Monster Hunter International . . . who I might add, failed to file the proper paperwork with this local MCB office notifying us of any operation in the area.” He gave me a pointed look.
“Beats me. You’re going to want to talk to our Atlanta team leader, Jay Boone. That’s B, O, O, N, E. I’m just the finance guy. I don’t do the liaison stuff.”
Cueto snorted. “Uh-huh. Did you catch her though?”
I spread my hands apologetically. “How am I supposed to know? Franks took my radio and left me locked in the back of a hot car like an abused dog.”
“If your tale of woe becomes any more tragic I fully expect to hear Sarah McLachlan start singing ‘In the Arms of an Angel.’ Regardless, MCB swept in and apprehended Stricken and his accomplices. Some dumbass cultists and one lizard man got thoroughly ventilated in the process. However, before Stricken could accidentally fall down the stairs repeatedly, we were interrupted by Mr. Coslow here, who informed the MCB that it is absolutely vital for national security interests that Mr. Stricken doesn’t suicide himself while in MCB custody, for some inexplicable fucking reason.”
All eyes turned to the mystery man, who remained as enigmatic as ever. “Ours not to reason why, ours is but to do and die.” Then he tilted his head and acknowledged the director’s complaint. “Current projections indicate Stricken is of far more value to mankind alive than dead. During the coming trials, the forbidden knowledge which he has gleaned will surely be of use to us. All must play their part.”
“I’m not even going to pretend to wrap my little GS-15 brain around that mystical bullshit,” Cueto said. “Beth?”
She obviously didn’t like the state of things either, but she shrugged. “Orders are orders.”
“So—” I interrupted. “I’m guessing this creepy, bossy guy outranks you seemingly more sane and pragmatic government employees.”
“Something like that,” Cueto said. “Mr. Coslow is outside the regular chain of command, but he was brought out of retirement, due to recent events, and is acting under the highest authority.”
“Should’ve stayed retired,” Franks muttered.
“That was not my decision, nor yours, Agent Franks. We each have our cross to bear.” Coslow was tiny and fragile compared to Franks, and from the way these people were acting toward him, he had to have the clearance to know what Franks was. Except he didn’t seem to give a shit. Coslow turned to me. “Which brings us to why Mr. Pitt’s presence was requested. Before Stricken will cut a deal, he insists on speaking with one of the Chosen.”
I blanched. I sure didn’t like that term getting tossed around by a bunch of Feds who’d have no issue with dissecting my brain. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do. I am certain of that.” Coslow reached beneath the table and pulled out a battered old leather briefcase. He popped it open and took out a handwritten journal. He immediately turned to a page near the middle and scanned down the list. “Yes. There you are. As you can see, you are not alone. You are one of many, for there are a multitude of competing factions. You are simply the one who is most conveniently placed for our needs at this time.”
Beth gave me a curious look. Apparently, this was a new revelation to her. “Owen Zastava Pitt’s been chosen in the eternal war? Really?”
“Hold on. For the record I am totally, one hundred percent human, so you can buzz off if you’re thinking about drafting me into any Unicorn bullshit.”
“I didn’t say anything like that.” Beth tried to appear innocent.
Coslow continued, like his little notebook was a pronouncement from on high. “Agent Franks has been chosen. As has your lovely bride, Mr. Pitt. Though they were both picked by drastically different factions, each has a part to play.” He read for a moment. “There are a few others currently in the region . . . Ah, it appears that Heather Kerkonen also bears the mantle of a Chosen.”
“I’m a what now?” Heather asked, obviously confused.
“Your destiny is intertwined with Earl Harbinger, my dear. I thought about calling upon him for this interview since he is in the area, except I fear his animosity toward Stricken would be too great for him to proceed rationally.”
“So I take it you’ve met Earl then,” Heather said.
“Yes,” said Coslow. “A few times.”
Director Cueto was obviously baffled. “Well, I ain’t been chosen to do shit but protect the United States of America from the forces of evil so I’m feeling a little left out here, Mr. Coslow. Could you please bring this discussion back to planet Earth now, so I can figure out how to proceed with my prisoner?”
“Of course, Director. Before Mr. Stricken will agree to a deal, he insists on speaking
