Monster Hunter Nemesis by Larry Correia Read Free Book Online

the other side was really capable of.
    “Yes, Mr. President, but we need not let yesterday’s patterns hold tomorrow hostage. Franks is a remnant of a more barbaric time.” Stricken managed to keep a straight face as he said that, which was quite an achievement, since his own history was rather blood-soaked, but what didn’t make it into the President’s daily briefings wasn’t his problem. “He’s a relic that needs to be retired.”
    “He’s so effective though.”
    Yeah, but he’s in my way. But Stricken just smiled and nodded, glad that his eye and skin condition gave him an excuse for wearing his odd persimmon-colored sunglasses indoors, because he had no doubt that if the President saw the hate in his eyes, he’d probably scrap the whole thing and burn STFU down. “He’s Frankenstein’s monster, sir. He was built to be effective, but he’s still a monster.”
    “Spare me, Alexander. Your entire operation is based on using rehabilitated monsters, and look how successful that’s proven to be.”
    Idiot. You can’t rehabilitate a monster. You can only coerce them into being temporarily useful, then send the docile off into obscurity and execute the uppity. “Thank you, Mr. President.” He dipped his head politely at the ignorant attempt at a compliment. “So you realize that I understand monsters better than anyone, so believe me when I tell you that if any of my recruits continued to demonstrate such erratic, violent tendencies as Franks has, I would have them dismissed from my program.” Dismissed. That was an amusing euphemism. More like fed into a wood chipper, Saddam Hussein-style. Now, there was leadership with panache.
    “I don’t know . . . We spend billions on security, and they’re still telling me our single best operative against the supernatural is this old pile of body parts that kids dress up as for Halloween. Hell, there’s cartoons and breakfast cereals based on him.”
    “I take it you’ve never met the real Franks in person?”
    The President shook his head. “The Secret Service didn’t think that was a good idea . . . This is just so . . . Well, I don’t know. Myers keeps telling me how vital Franks is to our defense.”
    A real leader needed to be decisive. He needed to declare a clear objective and then do everything necessary to seize that objective. This president lacked those necessary traits, that spine, that strength of purpose. He was uncertain, and Stricken couldn’t abide uncertainty in a commander. The President was shrewd enough when it came to normal politicking, but when the subject turned to supernatural threats, he was in way over his head. He’d once confided to Stricken that when he’d been briefed about the existence of the Old Ones, it had felt as if he was drowning in an angry sea. That had been music to Stricken’s ears. He’d served in one capacity or another in six administrations now, and none of this man’s predecessors had been nearly this easy to manipulate. When someone felt like they were drowning, anyone who could throw them a lifeline would be seen as a savior. Myers had been too honest in his assessments, and the truth was too frightening to a soft man like this. Stricken, on the other hand, was more than willing to massage the truth, to throw that comforting lifeline. Of course, the President saw it as a lifeline. Stricken considered it a leash.
    “Myers is partially correct. We do need something with Franks’ capabilities, but that doesn’t change the fact that the MCB’s best asset is aging and shows signs of serious mental deterioration. He’s a ticking bomb and he will go off eventually. Whether you deal with Franks now or not, the fact remains that he will need to be replaced someday. Either he loses his mind and causes something that we can’t cover up, or eventually something destroys him. That’s why it’s so vital that you approve my Nemesis Project right away.”
    “That again?” The President leaned back in his