Matt Archer, page 13
“You still here?” Captain Tannen asked, nudging my arm.
I bowed my head. Coming out of that memory always hurt. “Yeah.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me anything.” Her tone was sympathetic. “I shouldn’t ask anyone to defend their actions at this point.”
“No, it’s okay. I left because I wanted to make the world a safe place for my family.”
She nodded, appeased. “I can understand that.”
Matt came into view across camp. He was leaving the tent where his friend Will was still screaming about blood and ancestors. “I’m glad you can. I’m not sure I ever will.” I stood abruptly. “Excuse me.”
It was time to see if there was anything left for me with my son. I’d take a scrap, because it would be a start. I patted the compass in my pocket for luck. Maybe this time, it’d bring my family back.
Mama Tigers Don’t Stand By
Dani Archer
“What?” I yelled into the phone, shock sending my blood pressure into the atmosphere. “Say that again.”
Mamie squeaked on the other line. “Hearings. Congressional hearings.”
“And it’s the whole team?” I asked, softening my tone to avoid stressing my daughter out. She didn’t like it when my temper flared, even if it was aimed at someone else.
Right now, it was definitely aimed at someone else. Congress, to be precise. And my temper was more than flaring—I was pissed. I rarely used that phrase, and I never used it lightly. “Pissed” was reserved for times when Mama Tiger had her claws out. Someone was out to get my youngest child…and I was going to crack some heads together because of it. That was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the damn truth. So help me God.
“Yes,” Mamie said. “Everyone. All five wielders—including Matt and Will—and even Uncle Mike and Aunt Julie. They’ve all been named in the subpoena.”
I counted to ten before asking, “And where’s your dad?”
“Um….”
“Mamie, sweetheart, answer the question.”
She sighed. “He’s leaving today. I can’t say more over an unsecured line. Are you…are you coming to D.C.?”
The calm in her tone when she said “unsecured line” like she was a government operative wavered when she asked if I was coming. My sweet girl, worried about her friends and family…she might be eighteen, but she needed her mother. I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—disappoint her.
“Yes.” I looked around my office. Most of the file boxes were packed and sealed since I’d just finished a big case. I had two more pending, but those could be handed off since they were in the early stages. “I’ll call in and ask a few colleagues to cover for me and I’ll fly out tomorrow.”
“Good,” she murmured. “I want you here.”
This sounded like more than her usual worrying. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m just…I’m tired,” Mamie said. “And a little scared.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll be there as soon as I can,” I told her. “Is Michael around?”
“He’s busy with the general, but Aunt Julie is in her office. Want to talk to her?”
I wanted to talk to my brother, but my sister-in-law would have to do. “Yes.”
There was a muffled conversation, then a brisk voice answered, “Captain Tannen here.”
“Julie? It’s Dani.”
“Hey. So I guess Mamie told you.”
She sounded tired, and that was unlike her. Another reason I needed to get to D.C. I had a feeling my brother, his wife, and my baby niece would need some looking after as well. Good thing I had enough TLC to go around.
“I’m researching flight information right now. If I fly to Denver and take a red-eye, I can be at your house by eight tomorrow morning. I’ll bring my laptop, and I can use Georgetown’s law library in a pinch, although I doubt Congressional hearings regarding monster hunters is all that well documented. Is there a place for me to work in your office, or should I plan to work out of your house?”
“Um, Dani, we’ve got Army counsel on—”
“No,” I said firmly. “I represent Matt. And I’m going to ask the Cruessans if they want me to represent Will as well. The boys are underage and they should have better protection than just Army counsel.”
“I agree, but are you objective enough for this?”
“Of course not,” I snapped. “But this is one case where counsel doesn’t need to be objective. The need someone willing to fight claw and fang for them.”
Julie sighed. “Don’t tell me—I’m a mom, and I get it. Whether or not Congress will allow it is another story.”
“Congress can go to hell,” I said. “They messed with the wrong kid, and the wrong kid’s mother. Now, is there a place for me to work, or should I rent a small office near your neighborhood?”
She laughed. “The dining room table is all yours. And Dani?”
“Yes?” I asked, already distracted with travel plans and plotting out my argument for a leave of absence at work. It’s not like I could tell the other partners the truth. One, they’d never believe it. Two, I could be arrested for saying too much. No, I needed to invent an ill relative or something.
“Thank you for coming,” Julie said. “The kids—Will included—will be glad to see you. They may not admit it, but they need you.”
I clicked “purchase” on the airline’s website. The ticket was eight hundred dollars, but whatever. “Then tell them I’ll be right there.”
Because Mama Tigers don’t stand by.
Stories from Matt Archer: Redemption
Book Five
Penn and Ella Save the Day
Ella Mitchell
When the SUVs turned the corner, the crowd on the steps of the Congressional building lost their minds. Some screaming about child soldiers and animal cruelty and the death of the U.S. military. Others, conspiracy theorists who were more right than they knew, screamed that the government was corrupt, and that the aliens were coming to get us.
Well, at least they’re right about one thing.
Penn tugged on my sleeve. “They’re here. Showtime.”
I nodded and picked up my sign—a sign I’d been very careful not to show off before now. Penn picked up hers, too, and we shared a grim nod.
We were going to be so grounded…and possibly mobbed.
I unfolded my sign and held it high. Penn did the same, and starting whipping up the anti-government crowd into a chant that’s fairly insulting.
All around us, people stared. Not at the SUVs pulling up to the curb, but at us. A few cameras swung our way. I ignored them. They weren’t why I came, why I risked house arrest until graduation. No, the tall, broad-shouldered boy with the hard expression and proud eyes was the sole reason for my unsanctioned trip from Montana to D.C.
I nudged Penn in the side. “Here they come.”
Then I drew in a deep breath and yelled, “MATT!”
He stopped cold, his keen eyes scanning the crowd for the source of the yell. He knew my voice well enough to guess I was here. When he saw me, the look of amazement, of gratitude, on his face made draining my savings account worth it. He ran for me, Will hard on his heels. The crowd backed around as he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me like a man headed to the gallows.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” he said, drinking in my face like he was memorizing it.
“There’s no way I wouldn’t be here,” I said.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too!” I called as the MPs separated us.
The MPs dragged him away. He made it hard for them, leaning my direction as long as possible. Will made it even harder. It took four guys to pull him toward the door, and Will’s shoes slid across the concrete. “I’ll be back for you, baby!”
Penn blew him a kiss. “Give ‘em hell, Giant Will!”
As the boys cleared the doors, a dozen microphones were thrust into my face. “Miss! Miss! Are you affiliated with Mr. Archer?”
I arched an eyebrow at the reporter. “Kissing him would seem like a pretty good clue, don’t you think?”
The crowd around me laughed and the reporter scowled. Another shook his head at her in disgust and asked, “What’s the meaning behind your sign, and may we have your name?”
The microphones lurched closer. “I’m Ella Mitchell. I’ve been Matt’s girlfriend since Freshman year.” Off and on, but that didn’t matter to them...just to me, and that was a guilt-fest for another day. “And I think my sign’s self-explanatory. What Senator Patrick is trying to sell all of you is a lie. I’ve seen the scars on Matt. I watched his eyes change after he came home from a mission where he failed to save a little girl from hideous creatures. This war—and it is a war—is tearing these men apart. What I don’t understand is why Congress can’t see it, when it’s plain to those of us who know them.”
The first reporter has recovered enough to fire off a question before anyone else could. “And you expect the American public to simply take your word for it?”
“No,” I said. “I expect the American public to look at the facts. Then I expect them to thank these men before they go to sleep every night, because they wouldn’t be safe, otherwise.”
“Do you really believe in these monsters?” a woman from Fox News scoffed. “Without proof?”
Sighing, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. Matt had no idea I took pictures that night a few years ago, but I did. “I have proof. I was attacked, in the woods in Montana. Matt Archer and Will Cruessan saved my life, and my sister’s. We didn’t know who they were at the time, because they wore masks. But I saw one of these creatures, and I can assure you, they’re real.”
I held out my phone, already cued to the picture of the Bear that attacked us. Alyssa’s braid was visible at the edge of the frame, as were her hands, swinging a cast iron skillet at the monster’s head. In the background, two shadows were barely visible in the trees. I now knew who they were—two boys, armed and brave, looking for an opening to barge in and save us.
Some of the reporters stared at the pictures with interest, asking rapidly if they could use the photo on the news. Others rolled their eyes.
“Look,” Penn snapped behind me. “I don’t care what y’all believe, but Ella’s right. Our men have been abusing their own bodies and minds to keep your sorry asses safe. Don’t believe us if you want, but stop smearing their good names all over the place, you horses’ asses.”
That got another laugh from the crowd. Penn was tiny, curly-haired, with angelic features. Her mouth ran exactly opposite of the way she looked. It could be really off-putting. Or awesome. It depended on your sense of humor.
One reporter pointed at my phone. “That looks like a bad Photoshop job.”
“So does your toupee.” Penn cackled. “What’s wrong with you people?”
Bad Toupee sneered at her. “You’re being insulting, both to me and to a reasonable person’s doubt of your quite fantastic story. Really, how can you expect us to believe—”
The earth rumbled underfoot. Not a little tremor, but a real earthquake. People screamed, and part of the crowd backed away. Penn and I clung to each other to stand upright.
“It’s starting,” she murmured, her eyes wide. “Something’s coming.”
The ground shook again, throwing people off-balance and setting off more screams. The screams of panic turned to screams of absolute horror and heads whipped around to stare at the sky as an inhuman cry ripped through the air. I looked up. “My God.”
The winged beast bore down on the crowd, grabbing at people who ran. I turned on the reporters, absolutely furious it came to this. “Believe us now? Take cover, and pray the wielders get out here in time.”
Penn grabbed at my hand and pulled me away from the building as another winged beast soared our direction. “Run. Run!”
We followed the mass of people heading toward the Library of Congress. Some veered toward the mall, but I didn’t like the thought of all that open ground. Better to stay on the street where these things couldn’t maneuver.
Panic is an ugly thing. People pushed and shoved others out of the way in their desperation. Soldiers tried to keep everyone calm while herding us, but it didn’t matter. The mob effect had gone into overdrive. I ran to a terrified looking guy in desert fatigues. He couldn’t be much older than me, which made him a poor authority figure in the chaos.
“Miss, you need to keep moving,” he said, holding a hand out to stop me from coming closer. His name patch read “Lamb.” “Head for shelter.”
“You need to call the wielders out here.” I pointed at the sky. “You need them now.”
Screams rent the air and Penn marched up next to me. “You need tanks, too.”
The poor kid looked at both of us, probably wondering why his “authority” didn’t move us. “I’m sure it’s being handled.” A shadow flew overhead and he gave us a shove. “Now go!”
We did as we were told that time. The monster shrieked and bore down. The soldier ran toward his team, all of them firing rifles skyward. Not one shot breeched its ugly hide. It dove and caught Lamb around the middle, climbed five or six stories, then dropped him onto the other men. He fell like a rock—a hundred-eighty pounds of dead weight. One of the guys crumpled, and the other two fired at the monster. It didn’t like that, and it flew at them, using its talons to crush them against their vehicle. Both went limp and dropped.
Penn and I stopped short, and the crowd flowed around us, jostling to move as far away from the monster still circling overhead.
Not one of the four soldiers moved. Poor Lamb was bleeding from the chest, and his body lay at an unnatural angle.
Penn stared hard at them. “We need a rifle.”
I knew she could shoot, but was she thinking about defending the street? “What do you have in mind?”
“They put holes in its wings in that last volley. It might not hurt its body, but if we tear up its wings enough, we can ground them for the wielders. You grab the rifle, I’ll get ammo, since I know what to look for.”
It seemed disrespectful to steal things from the dead, but what choice did we have? To run into the Library of Congress like good little girls? Hell no. “Okay. Which rifle do you want?” I asked.
She pointed at the biggest one. Of course, that would be the one she wanted. It also happened to be buried under two guys. While I gingerly pulled the rifle free from the mass of bodies, Penn plucked ammo from pockets and pouches.
I shuddered as a dead man rolled onto my feet as I wrested the rifle strap off his shoulder. His blood stained my shoes and I took a deep breath to keep from vomiting. “Got it. We need to find a good spot for sniper duty.”
I scanned the street. Most of the crowd had surged well past us, leaving the street eerily empty. Only screams and shrieks broke the quiet. “There’s an alley over there. Looks like there’s a fire escape. Will that work?”
“Won’t know until we try it.” She jogged after me.
I led her to an alley between two buildings and jumped up to pull down the fire escape’s stairs. Penn rolled her eyes. “Sucks to be tall, doesn’t it?”
We climbed the stairs up to the fourth floor. The buildings weren’t as close together as I would’ve liked—the monsters would fit inside the alley if they folded their wings…we’d just have to risk it, so they’d be grounded for Matt and Will once they got here.
Because they would get here. Eventually.
I shoved that thought aside, because Penn hefted the rifle to her shoulder and used the fire escape’s guardrail as a shooting tripod. “Be very quiet. I’m hunting monsters.”
“Hic sunt dracones.”
“El, stop with the Latin.”
“What?” I spread my hands in a half-hysterical gesture—we were actually doing this. We were actually hunting monsters. “I said, ‘here be dragons.’”
“You better be calling us dragons. Not those ugly things. They aren’t worth the awesomeness.”
We hunkered down. Penn explained what she’d need and when, and I stuffed my pockets with all but two cartridges. “How long do you think we’ll have to wait before we have a clean shot?”
Screams rang out on the street again. A new swarm of people ran by, just as panicked as the first. “Where’d they come from?” Penn asked.
“No idea. Wave two, I guess.”
There was a shriek, and one of the monsters dive bombed a man lagging behind. It started pecking him to pieces as everyone around him fought to get away. “Clean shot?”
Penn shook her head. I waited, thinking we’d be clear, but the monster lurched forward out of sight. Mighty screeches filled the air, and the crowd scattered like rats running ahead of a sewer flood. One last screech, a crash, then nothing. Penn and I exchanged glances. Did this mean what I hoped it did?
A shadow blocked out the sun—another monster on its way in. It dropped like a boulder onto Independence. Penn steadied the rifle, blew out a breath, put a finger on the trigger—
Then Will ran by.
“Oh, my God!” She relaxed her trigger finger, but didn’t lower the rifle. “They don’t see it.”
Matt turned, jumped in front of Will, and the monster sailed in front of them. “Ears!” Penn snapped.
I plugged my ears as she shot the thing in the wing, once, twice, three times.
“Don’t hit the guys!”
Penn didn’t spare me a glance. “I’m better than that. They’ll stay clear better than a bunch of scared civilians.”
The monster turned our direction, its expression…annoyed. “Oh, shit.”
“‘Oh, shit’ is right,” Penn said. “I’m going to try for its eye if it gets close enough.”
One of the guys shouted, both of them waving their arms at the thing, diverting its attention. It worked; the monster spun around and snapped at Matt. He jumped away in time, and the creature slammed its beak into the concrete. That pissed it off, and it threw Will.
