Road Trip: BBQ And A Brawl (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 19)

by Michael Anderle

  “Maybe they didn’t hire him. People get radicalized in prison all the time.” James frowned. “He might be new to the HDL, and he’s just not been in long enough for the local cops or FBI to have gathered info that he was a recruit.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Probably. Maybe? It’s not like regular criminals never become terrorists, but like I said, he’s been out for a few years, and it’s not like I did a deep dive. But just checking on what the police records say, this guy has never been associated with the HDL. And that’s not the only weird thing. There are just too many dangling strings with this, brah.”

  “Then what else do you have?” James asked. “Anything that can lead me to Nadina is helpful.”

  Davion sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing, but I think one of the reasons the cops didn’t seem as interested in Nadina is they were getting a bunch of tips in the last week from an informant claiming the HDL wasn’t planning on messing with Nadina, and that it was just a diversion so they can totally screw up some big Oriceran sister-city dinner the mayor has coming up.”

  “Huh?” James grunted. “Who’s the informant?”

  “Don’t know. The cops don’t know, and it seems like they weren’t that convinced of anything until the HDL filed for the protest permit. The informant told them about it before they showed up. I poked a little, and I’m kind of freaked out. Maybe not freaked out, but I’m like, ‘Woah. That’s freaky.’” Davion chuckled. “Same thing, huh? I’m reminded of this one time in San Diego—”

  James growled. “Get to the fucking point, Davion.”

  “The point is, I was able to geolocate the source of one of the messages from the informant.”

  “And?”

  “Whoever their informant was, they made at least one call from inside Nadina’s place before it opened,” Davion explained. “That means some HDL asshole might have been distracting the police while they were placing a bomb in her restaurant. It’s all, you know, ‘Look at this hand’ as a distraction while they’re grabbing the knife with the other. I could be wrong, but it fits the evidence.”

  “You’re right about it being weird, but a bomb doesn’t sound right.” James walked over to the window and pulled back the curtain to reveal an unimpressive view of a parking lot and a few nearby local restaurants. “If they had a bomb, why didn’t they already set it off? They could have done it at night when no one was inside if they were worried about killing humans. It doesn’t make sense. The longer they wait, the greater the chance of someone finding it.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t belong to an HDL terrorist splinter group. You’ve dealt with a lot of terrorists. They’re not always like, you know, reasonable. I mean, they’re terrorists. They need to chill, but they just like blowing shit up.”

  “Being reasonable isn’t the same thing as being logical,” James replied. “If they were total dipshits, they would all get caught by the government right away. No, if they planted a bomb and haven’t set it off yet, there would have to be a strong reason. And I’m assuming Nadina’s people were sweeping for explosives, especially since bombs are the Defenders’ weapon of choice.” He grunted. “But if it was a magical bomb, they might not know what to look for. That still doesn’t answer the question of why the Defenders haven’t set it off yet. No, there’s something else here you haven’t found.”

  “Sure, brah, but what?” Davion sounded more curious than offended.

  Unless…

  James narrowed his eyes and pulled the curtains closed. “I need you to check something for me, Davion. I hope I’m wrong, but if I’m right, it’d explain a lot of the strange shit about this situation and give us a chance to track down Nadina.”

  “Okay,” Davion replied. “What do you hope you’re wrong about, and what do you need me to do?”

  “About how complicated this shit may be, and here’s what I need you to do…”

  An hour later, there was a loud knock on the hotel room door. James marched over to the door and opened it. Cyrus stood on the other side with an annoyed look on his face.

  James walked back into the center of the room and stood near the bed. “Thanks for coming on such short notice.” He folded his arms over his chest and tried not to look pissed. It was harder than he had thought it would be.

  Cyrus entered and closed the door. He looked around for a few seconds before declaring, “Sometimes I wondered if your reputation was bullshit, but apparently, it’s not. Who knew?”

  “My reputation? How does looking around my hotel room tell you anything about my bounty-hunting reputation?” James frowned as he tried to connect the two in his mind, but he failed. “I mostly hit bounties in greater LA. I wasn’t a big hotel guy back then.”

  “I’m not talking about your bounty hunting.” Cyrus gestured around the room. “You have your one little restaurant, but you have been taking down level four and five bounties for years. That’s a lot of money. You could have retired to a tropical island well before you stepped back from bounty hunting.” He shrugged. “And you still live in a small two-story house. You do have that ridiculous truck, but the point is, you’re in a midrange hotel here, not a luxury place, despite attending the opening of a celebrity restaurant. Humble living for a rich man.”

  “Humility is relative, considering some of the stuff I use and have.” James shrugged. “But why would I need a luxury hotel? I just need somewhere to sleep. My wife’s not even with me.”

  Cyrus stared at James, his gaze appraising. “Whatever. I was trying to be nice, but I’m not here to discuss you, Brownstone. You dragged me over here and claimed you had vital information about Nadina that you couldn’t share over the phone.” He shrugged. “I’m here. Tell me. You of all people should understand that time is running out. We’re just fortunate they didn’t assassinate her at the event. We might get lucky and they intend to ransom her, but we can’t depend on that. You know how terrorists are.”

  “Yeah, I do, and that’s the thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was an inside job,” James explained. “I don’t think the HDL had anything to do with Nadina’s kidnapping. Any of them—Defenders, normal HDL. I think those fuckers just showed up for their protest, and it has been used to help distract from the real kidnappers.” He held up a hand. “You know, like a magic trick. Keep your eye on the ball and all that shit.”

  Cyrus scoffed. “Wait, so you’re saying she kidnapped herself?”

  “No. That would be stupid. I’m saying someone from your team did. Maybe multiple people.” James narrowed his eyes. “Or maybe one person.”

  Eliminate enemy, Whispy recommended. James had bonded the symbiont a few minutes before and told him to be quiet, which in practical terms translated only to fewer kill requests.

  Cyrus shook his head. “Bullshit. I personally vet everyone on my team, and I’ve used the subcontractors before. They’re professionals. There’s no way it was my people. I take full responsibility for what happened, but that doesn’t mean it was an inside job. I don’t have time for this, Brownstone. It won’t help me or the police find Nadina.”

  “Yeah. I figured you would say something like that, which is why I had someone check into you for something very specific.” James’ nostrils flared, and he resisted the urge to punch the man across the room.

  “Check into me?” Cyrus’ face twitched. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  James squared his shoulders. “Exactly what it sounds like. I had someone check into your accounts and see if you got any recent payments. It took a little digging, but my guy found it, or at least can link you to a crypto wallet that received a shitload of TrollCoin a week ago. I don’t understand all the technobabble, but he says you have other accounts linked to that. He hasn’t traced it all back yet because he didn’t have a lot of time, so I don’t know who paid you, but it was a decent amount. Not enough to retire to a tropical island, but enough to compensate you for the fact that your boss isn’t supposed to come back. You can go
take a vacation for a few months until the news dies down, then get a new job.”

  Cyrus scoffed. “This is complete bullshit. Have you lost your fucking mind, Brownstone? Nadina’s out there, and terrorists have her. She might already be dead, and you’re running around playing at being a detective. You’re a pitmaster and a bounty hunter, Brownstone. Stay in your fucking lane and stop being an idiot.”

  “I don’t have to be a detective to smell shit that stinks or spot someone acting suspicious.” James shook his head. “That’s what’s been bothering me about this situation from the beginning. Nadina’s not an idiot, and she’s a pretty good judge of character. I couldn’t understand why her security chief would let her get captured so easily, which means normally you must do a good job, but the money explains why you suddenly stopped.”

  Cyrus gritted his teeth. “You were there too! They just surprised us. Shit happens, even when you’re prepared.”

  “Yeah, shit happens, and yeah, I was there,” James growled. “But I was backing off because you were being a little bitch about it, and you were right. I’m not a security contractor like my daughter. I don’t guard people most of the time, but a lot of the shit you did still didn’t make sense to me, like the single guard at the back. It was like you were asking for someone to screw with her. If you had changed a few things about the security, they couldn’t have gotten to Nadina and run off with her.”

  Cyrus snorted. “This is insane. Batshit-crazy. I don’t have time for this, Brownstone. I can’t believe you’re wasting my time with these bullshit conspiracy theories.” He turned toward the door. “Stay out of this, Brownstone, or I’ll go to the cops and have them arrest you for harassment. I’ll admit I got a little desperate and thought you might actually be able to help, so you can add that to my list of mistakes, but I’m not stopping until I rescue Nadina.”

  James chuckled and offered Cyrus a tight smile. “You seriously think I’m letting you walk out of here?” He shook his head. “I don’t know what the fucking plan is, but you’re gonna take me to Nadina. Or you can say no, and I’ll break every bone in your body until you tell me where she is.”

  Cyrus glared at James. “You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you, Brownstone? You’re not smart. You’re rough, and that’s why I have an advantage over you.”

  James grinned. “I’m smart enough to have seen through you, asshole.”

  Cyrus pulled out a gun. “I stuck an anti-magic magazine in this thing before I drove here, asshole. I told you to stay out of this. Fuck you.” He fired.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Cyrus pulled the trigger three times, his face a mask of crazed glee. The bullets ripped through James’ shirt and bounced off, barely stinging.

  Maximum adaptation already achieved. Unlikely the enemy will present a significant threat or opportunity for adaptation, Whispy noted. Disable, extract intelligence through whatever means necessary, and kill.

  Nah. We stick to the plan.

  Cyrus blinked and glanced down at this gun, then back up at the smirking James.

  “You know what the sad part is?” James rumbled. “I thought you might show up with a grenade or some shit.” He slapped his chest hard, the shirt outlining the amulet for a moment. “So I put this on. I thought a little bit about playing dead, but it’s just not in me, so too fucking bad, Cyrus.”

  Cyrus hissed and fired again. “Die, Brownstone. Die!”

  James grimaced as a bullet bounced off his head. Despite another light sting, there wasn’t any blood.

  “I don’t understand,” Cyrus muttered. “These are hollow-point anti-magic bullets. Even if they weren’t as effective as normal, they should be at least tearing you up a little.”

  “I’m sure they’re fine. Too bad you spent so much money for nothing.” James shrugged. “The problem is, everyone always assumes magic has something to do with my shit. There are other possibilities besides magic.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Cyrus’ eyes widened, and his breath caught. He stood there frozen for a few seconds before turning and fleeing down the hallway.

  Pursue enemy! Whispy demanded.

  James pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was already connected to Davion.

  “Cyrus is moving,” James explained. “Make sure you keep on him in case he switches vehicles.” He jogged out of the room. “I want to give him a little head start so he’ll run where we need. He’s in too far to just drop out now.”

  James pulled his truck into the parking lot of an abandoned warehouse on the edge of town. Despite his speeding, no cop had pulled him over. He wasn’t sure whether that was luck or people not wanting to mess with James Brownstone. He would take it, either way.

  Shit’s working out the way I want it to for once. I just hope it ends with Nadina being okay.

  Cyrus had pulled in through a loading bay door a few minutes prior, according to Davion. The dilapidated warehouse didn’t look like a base of operations, with its broken windows, peeling paint, and graffiti.

  That simplified things since it implied Cyrus and his buddies weren’t involved with some local Mafia, which had deep ties and resources. There was still a chance they might be affiliated with the HDL in some way, but if that were the case, the man wouldn’t have needed a bribe to betray this employer.

  “I’m leaving my phone in the truck,” James explained. He’d been in constant contact with Davion on speaker during the pursuit. “I’m going extended advanced. I don’t have time to fuck around, and last time I tried to bring a phone with me and grew a little pouch, it got fried anyway.”

  “Understood,” Davion replied. “And good luck, brah.” He cleared his throat. “Cops are at the hotel now looking around. They’ll probably figure it out sooner rather than later, but do you want me to call them?”

  “No. I can’t wait, and they will want to do this too slowly, or they might have a problem with me getting a little rough.” James snorted. “Nope. I’m ending this shit, and I’ll clear everything up with the cops later. I’ll call you when it’s done, but this ends now.”

  “Sure, sure. Kick a guy through a window for me.” Davion laughed. “Damn, it’s always fun working with you. I wish I had been at the agency before you retired.”

  James grunted. “Talk to you later.” He ended the call and pulled out a Shay treat from his pocket, a small piece of turquoise etched with a single rune. It was a healing artifact under normal circumstances, but now it’d be nothing but fuel for Whispy.

  Even if James managed to make money on the job, the reward wouldn’t offset the value of the artifacts he’d drained to fuel his transformations. While he didn’t regret that, it was a strong reminder of how expensive things could get when the heavy violence started.

  Cyrus should have given up on his plan the minute I got involved. He underestimated me, and now he’s gonna pay for that, and for betraying Nadina.

  James took a moment to pull off his clothes. No reason to waste another outfit. The bullet-riddled shirt couldn’t be saved without magic, but at least he could wear it while driving.

  Not caring who might see him, the naked James stepped out of his truck with the sunken amulet in his chest and tendrils obvious. He slapped the turquoise to the amulet, hoping Cyrus and his friends were watching. Anticipation of death shredded morale, and everyone knew what James’ armor represented.

  Let’s go extended advanced, James ordered. Including helmet. We’re gonna eliminate the enemy.

  Yessss, Whispy responded.

  The Shay treat crumbled to dust, and a few seconds later, biometallic tendrils encased James’ body forming an armored killing machine. A blade extended from his arm, and the darkness of the helmet surrounding his head was replaced a few seconds later by a wider field of vision.

  James considered thermographic vision before deciding against it. If he made enough noise, the enemy would come to him, and that was assuming they weren’t already watching him on a camera.

  Hiding woul
dn’t save them. Attacking wouldn’t, either. They had sealed their fate when they’d fucked with his friend.

  Time to knock.

  Kill the enemy efficiently, Whispy commented. Recover target.

  That’s the plan. I gave them all the chances they’re gonna get. Now it’s time for them to understand what it means to fuck with me.

  With a grunt, James leapt away from the truck and flew toward a rusty side door. He landed and grabbed the door with his now clawed and armored hand. His tug didn’t open the locked door, so he backed up and slammed his foot into it, leaving a large dent and sending the door several yards into the interior hallway it had protected. The door landed on the dusty tile with a loud, echoing thud. If they didn’t know he was there before, they knew now.

  James cocked his head. There were shouts nearby from multiple men and he grinned, imagining them in a panic.

  He jogged down the hallway toward the source of the noise. A few turns brought him onto the main warehouse floor.

  Cyrus’ car, along with a few other vehicles, was parked inside. A dozen men were present, most holding rifles, but several with grenade or rocket launchers. Most of the men wore gray fatigues. Cyrus had ditched his pistol for a grenade launcher.

  Who are these guys, mercenaries? So we’ve got Cyrus getting paid, and we’ve got mercenaries. Damn, someone spent a lot of money to go after Nadina.

  “That’s a lot of gear to kidnap one Light Elf,” James rumbled. He gestured around. “We really gonna do this? I don’t care, but you might like continuing to breathe.”