Snippet #1702349

The ASCO briefing room was laid out with about as much eye for aesthetics as any police squad room Jason had ever seen. Which is to say it looked as though it moonlighted as a gymnasium and perhaps a laundromat. He could have cared less: this was the culmination of his efforts, even as ass-backward and confusing as the 'hunt' had turned out to be.

Mr. Tachibana lead the short ceremony. He made a pass at humor to light applause.

"Blazeir Cresthal, Jason Cabella, Netanya Haddad, Ayo Bhekizita, Bobby Estacado..."

The sharpshooter was pleased enough with the outcome of the trials. The other men and women around him seemed the trustworthy sort, good people to have at your back in a traffic stop or firefight.

"It's simple: If you do not do this, you are fired!" the man finished. He sauntered off the stage, hands in his pockets. Jason blinked and realized that he'd missed a good chunk of the initiation speech to his daydreams. It was unlike him; a sniper's focus was his most useful asset. It was a nature to be honed and cultured in all aspects of life; even in staff meetings, Jason thought bemusedly.

He approached the proffered corkboard with the others and began to read. Before he was halfway done scanning the binder, the skepticism he'd been suppressing began to nibble at his mind. He'd heard of the Aswang, harpies too, but Devil-Monkeys? He had a feeling he'd watched this movie before.

With a lopsided grin, he presented himself to Brennus.