The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

“I want you to make me a promise, Dad. A promise that will make me feel a lot better about all this.”

  “Sure, kid, anything.”

  “Wear the amulet all the time from now on.”

  James’ heart rate kicked up. He’d been expecting her to ask him to be more careful.

  “What the… Alison, I don’t think that’s a good idea. That thing has weird side-effects.”

  “Big deal,” Alison shot back, heaving another long sigh. “All magic does. So, what, you want me to wear the Aegis Pendant all the time to protect myself, but you’re not going to wear the amulet?”

  Stubborn Drow teenagers were worse than Drow assassins.

  “It’s not the same thing.” James groaned and rubbed his temple with his free hand.

  Alison sniffled. “You don’t get it, do you?”

  Oh, shit. Is she crying? Fuck. Damn it.

  “I… Alison, I’m careful.”

  “I bet my mom was careful, too, and she still ended up dead.”

  James sighed and let his head fall back against the chair. Alison had suffered so much, and shouldn’t have to spend her time stressing over him.

  I’m a shitty dad.

  It didn’t help that Alison was right. She was in the middle of a government-sponsored magic school, surrounded by powerful creatures, witches, and wizards who could protect her. The fact that the Drow had targeted him instead of her proved that the School of Necessary Magic was a safe place, but he still felt better about her wandering around if she wore her Aegis Pendant.

  Unlike Alison, James also made a point of going after dangerous people, and Vegas had proved that he wasn’t always ready for trouble. If the Red-Eyes Killer had been tougher he would have had to drive all the way back to Los Angeles to get his stuff, and more people might have died.

  Alison’s sniffles broke into full sobs on the other end. James’ stomach tightened, and his free hand went to his forehead.

  “Okay,” he muttered into the phone.

  “Okay?” Alison echoed after another sob.

  James lowered the phone and stared at it for a few seconds before lifting back to his ear. “I’ll do it. I’ll start wearing the amulet all the time. Maybe not to bed, but I’ll have it always near me at least.”

  The teen regained control after a few more sniffles. “Thanks, Dad. That’s all I ask.”

  Guess I’m gonna get used to hearing weird-ass alien whispers. Hope the amulet likes barbeque.

  “I forgot to tell you, the adoption will be finalized in July.” He managed a smile despite the discomfort just moments earlier.

  “Then I’ll officially be Alison Brownstone.” Happiness infected her voice.

  “Yeah, sucks to be you.”

  Alison let out a little laugh, which relieved James.

  “Everything’s only been getting better,” the girl responded. “And I’m sure it’s only going to get even better from here on.”

  “I’m sure it will, Alison. I’m sure it will. Hey, why don’t you tell me the cool stuff that’s been going on at your school?”

  Alison sucked in a deep breath as if she were about to unleash paragraphs in seconds. “Well, first of all, Izzie did the funniest thing the other day…”

  An hour later, James’ F-350 roared down the highway toward Warehouse Three. He’d stopped by his own more modest “warehouse” to pick up the amulet.

  A storage unit’s been good enough for years. It’s not like I should change just because Shay has a bunch of actual warehouses.

  I also can’t believe I’m gonna go to Shay’s place and let her shoot me.

  The amulet whispered in his mind, amused by the idea.

  Glad one of us is gonna enjoy it. Is this your idea of entertainment?

  It didn’t respond. James still wasn’t sure if the communication was one-way, but because of Alison’s new requirement, he’d find out soon enough. He wasn’t sure if he’d wear it constantly or just have it with him, but it was at least a good experiment to try.

  Finding out that the amulet was of alien origin rather than magical had done a lot to soothe his concerns. He figured the devil would rely on something a little less elaborate if he were trying to take James’ soul. At least he hoped so.

  Maybe if I wear this shit all the time, it’ll eventually get tired of talking. For now, I’ll do what I need to, because if I get killed, Alison might not be safe even at the school. I have to remember that I’m not just living for myself anymore. I’m living for two wonderful women.

  James frowned. He needed to protect his women any way he could.

  “Fuck. That parkour shit has to be Shay, and if I tell her to knock it off, she’ll just call me a name and do it twice as often to make a point. Maybe I can handle it in a different way.”

  He waited until he was sure no one would pass him soon to hit “Heather” in his contacts list and turned on the speakerphone.

  The phone rang once. “Verify identity,” a distorted voice demanded.

  “James Brownstone.” He checked his mirrors to make sure there were no suspicious vehicles.

  “Confirm the first job.”

  James returned his attention to the front. “You know the fucking first job.”

  “Confirm the first job,” the voice repeated.

  “I needed you to take care of some video of some women hanging on me in a bar.”

  The distorted voice laughed. “Give me a real challenge this time, Mr. Brownstone,” Heather continued, her voice undistorted this time.

  The bounty hunter grunted. “I don’t know if it’s a real challenge, but it’s important to me.”

  “What’s up, Mr. Brownstone?”

  “A woman is parkouring around Los Angeles at night. She sometimes goes places she shouldn’t.”

  “Oh, she’ll be easy to track.”

  “I don’t want her tracked.” James paused for a moment as he changed lanes. “I’m more concerned about video of her. Most of it is security-cam shit, but there’s some other video that seems a little more directed. I want you to find out who is filming it, and then we can talk about if I need it taken down.”

  Heather chuckled. “Sure thing. This will be even easier than what you had me do before.”

  “Fine by me. Wait, don’t you need the description of the woman?” James glanced around the cab, wondering if the hacker could somehow see him.

  “Nope. What you’ve told me should be enough. By the way, I’m now burning this number.”

  “Huh? What the fuck are you talking about?” James slowed to let someone from the onramp in.

  “You won’t be able to get hold of me using this number.”

  “Then how the fuck am I supposed to talk to you about the job?” James shook his head.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll call you.” Heather hung up.

  “Fucking hackers.”

  Guns arranged roughly by caliber and type lined several tables stretching across the interior of the main room of Warehouse Three. Shay stood behind the first table with a satisfied look on her face. The amulet continued its happy murmuring.

  Shay eyed James. “Please tell me you’ve got it on. It’d be pretty damned embarrassing if I ended up killing you.”

  “Embarrassing? Yeah, I guess that’s one way to put it.” James patted his chest. “It’s under here, and it’s ready to go.”

  “Good. The more we know, the longer you live.” The tomb raider picked up a small .22 pistol from the first table. “Look, I figure we escalate this shit slowly and systematically. We know you can handle a lot of weapons, so as long as we up the power slowly we won’t seriously injure you.”

  James snorted. “You think you won’t.”

  Shay winked. “I don’t think, I know. Don’t be a pussy.”

  “You’re not the one getting shot.”

  She narrowed her eyes and aimed the gun at his leg. “I’ll keep it away from anything important, or anything I need to use later tonight.”

  The amulet whispered, eagerness in its menta
l voice.

  James shrugged. “Whatever. Guess I should have worn shorts. Don’t care that much about these pants, at least.”

  Shay pulled the trigger. The bullet bounced off with a faint sting and dropped to the ground.

  “That all you got?” James rumbled, and squared his shoulders.

  The tomb raider laughed. “Oh, so we go from all your complaints to you talking shit?” She set the .22 down and picked up a .357. “I guess I better up my game, Mr. Brownstone.”

  James moved his head back and forth and cracked his knuckles. The amulet’s eagerness might have been infectious, or maybe he liked the idea of impressing his woman.

  He nodded. “Do it.”

  The handgun spat out a bullet. It stung more than last time but didn’t pierce the skin. Shay set the gun down, walked over to the bullets, and knelt.

  “Huh,” she murmured.

  James glanced down at the two new holes in his pants, then at Shay. “What?”

  She held up one of the bullets. “It’s crushed like it hit a wall.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Look, we don’t know the exact mechanics of how all this shit works.” Shay shook her head. “Alien or magical stuff might work in ways we can’t even begin to understand, but this shows that the actual force of the bullet isn’t shunted off to some weird other place. Otherwise, this wouldn’t be messed up.”

  James shrugged. “Good to know, I guess.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “A little curiosity never killed anyone.”

  “What about the cat?”

  “The cat should have had better skills.” Shay gestured toward the pistol table. “Maybe if it did, it wouldn’t have ended up dead.” She moved to the next table and picked up a 9mm submachine gun. She flipped the safety off and aimed at the same leg. “Has it even hurt you?”

  “Stings a little, but nothing bad.” James patted his leg where the bullets had struck. “Doesn’t even hurt now.”

  Shay nodded. “Gonna use a burst.”

  “Fine by me.”

  The gunfire echoed in the cavernous warehouse. The bounty hunter grunted from the three quick spikes of pain. The bullets had managed a slight scrape, but no blood.

  She set down the submachine gun. “I wonder what would happen with good stuff.”

  “Good stuff?” James furrowed his brow.

  Shay nodded. “Yeah, like a healing potion.”

  “Don’t have one on me, but I’ve used healing potions with the amulet on before. It didn’t block the effects.” James shrugged. “Also didn’t seem like the healing was faster, but it wasn’t like I was timing it or anything. Maybe the potions worked better than they would have otherwise.”

  The amulet whispered something. It sounded irritated.

  What? Don’t like it when I use magic? Hurt your little alien ego? Fuck you. If you’re so good, you should be healing me, asshole.

  The amulet grew silent. James wasn’t sure if it was chance or reaction.

  Shay set down the gun and moved to a table far down the line. She picked up a familiar sword, the Masamune tachi.

  The amulet shouted in James’ mind, eager and annoyed.

  James grunted. “Yeah, this ought to be fun.”

  Shay gripped the hilt of the sword tightly. “You’ve already been hit so your amulet should have already adapted, right?”

  The bounty hunter shrugged and lifted an arm to the side. “I’d rather lose an arm than a leg if we’re wrong.”

  His sword-wielding girlfriend advanced with too broad a smile on her face, raising the sword. “Ready?”

  James nodded. “Do it. Make it quick. No one likes a lazy hack job.”

  Shay brought the sword down, but it bounced off. It left a slight scratch with a thin trail of blood, and the amulet did its best mental imitation of something James thought was supposed to be laughter.

  Oh, you think you’re big shit now? It would have helped when the fucker stabbed me the first time.

  Shay returned the sword to the table and picked up a stun gun. “Ever been hit with a stun gun or a Taser?”

  “Yeah, tons of times. Low-level bounties use them all the time.” He shrugged. “The first guy who tried got away. After that, it’s been fun to see the looks on their faces.”

  “I’d use a Taser, but I don’t think the probes will even work.” Shay advanced on James, the stun gun crackling. “This will let us test electricity. Until we work up to lightning, at least.”

  “Yeah, whatever.” James grunted. “Go ahead.”

  Shay jammed the stun gun into his side. A slight tingle traveled through James, but his muscles didn’t contract and no pain shot through him.

  “Tickles.” James smirked.

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Very funny.” She moved back to the table. She set the stun gun down before picking up a small silver egg with a button on the side.

  James eyed the egg. “Sonic grenade?”

  “Yep. Been hit with one of these before?”

  “Once, a few years back.” He let out a low growl. “Fucker got away.”

  The amulet muttered something. Sympathy, perhaps.

  “Were you wearing the amulet at the time?” Shay bounced the sonic grenade in her hand.

  James nodded. “Yeah. He was a level four. Nasty piece of work. Later got blown up by some other asshole when he was in a helicopter, so I figured that was my revenge.”

  “Let’s see it how it goes.” Shay pulled something that looked like heavy duty headphones over her ears, then pressed the button and tossed the grenade.

  James gritted his teeth as the skin of the grenade slid back and a high-pitched whine filled the air. The grenade clattered against the floor, leaving his ears ringing but nothing more. No nausea, no rebellious stomach.

  Shay pulled off the headphone looking things and tossed them on a shelf. “You okay?” She tilted her head to the side, curiosity on her face.

  James nodded and shrugged. “Yeah. Barely felt it.”

  “That’s very interesting.” Shay lowered her gaze and stared directly at his chest. “That means that whatever the Whispering Amulet of Doom is doing, it’s not just hardening your skin.”

  “When I put it on, it hurts like hell. It’s like it’s going everywhere in my body.”

  The amulet whispered low and sporadically in his mind.

  Shay ran her tongue inside her cheek, her brow furrowed in deep thought. “Wonder if it’d work against mental attacks?”

  James grunted. “Don’t know. The despair bug got into my head, but it’s not like I run into that kind of crap a lot.”

  “Good thing, then.”

  Shay moved to the last table, which contained a wooden rack holding stoppered bottles. “Time for acids and a few other nasties.” She grinned.

  “Remember, I don’t have a healing potion. Don’t hurt me too badly.”

  “Oh, I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe.” Shay winked.

  Gonna be a long afternoon.

  4

  Royce eyed the bounty hunters and trainees as they completed another set of fifty burpees. At this point, most of the men might have had stood a good chance of making it through Marine Corps Recruit Training.

  Maybe James could spare a few of these guys for the Corps.

  He chuckled and shook his head. Once a Marine always a Marine.

  “Forty-eight…forty-nine…fifty,” he called off as he completed each motion of the exercise. “And stop.”

  The assembled men grumbled. Several wiped sweat from their heads, but at least none of them fell or vomited. When he’d started training them, several of them couldn’t handle one solid session of PT. Their tough gang lifestyles might have instilled bravery in them, but it hadn’t given them shit in terms of discipline or endurance. Trey was one of the few who hadn’t needed to be completely remade.

  A gang member might be ready to do violence, but he’s not a warrior. Trey’s got a warrior spirit, which was probably why he was leading these guys.

 
“The team heading to Vegas should go clean up. Trey texted me earlier to say he was on his way. That means you, Manuel, Travis, Deshawn, Carl, and Shorty. Trey and Charlyce don’t need to smell your stinky asses for the entire trip.”

  The men laughed and broke formation to head inside and get changed.

  Royce lingered outside the building double-checking his messages. A couple of minutes passed before a huge new-model black Ford Expedition rolled into the Brownstone Building’s parking lot. The drill instructor marched over toward the vehicle.

  The SUV’s window rolled down to reveal a frowning Trey.

  “Problem?” Royce called.

  Trey shook his head. “Nah, no problem. Just don’t like the fact that I can’t use my truck.”

  “Even in your big-ass truck there isn’t enough room for a full team and equipment.”

  “But the F-350 is fucking badass.”

  Royce resisted a chuckle. Trey might have purchased the truck to emulate his hero, but he didn’t need the vehicle to live up to Brownstone. The more he operated without the truck, the more he’d internalize that truth.

  “You’re catching bounties, not starring in some reboot of the Fast and Furious.” He nodded at the SUV. “This is pretty good as far as civilian vehicles go. Doubt even Brownstone would want you rolling around in an APC or something. Now that would be badass.”

  Trey laughed. “Brownstone Agency rolling around with military vehicles. That’d show the bastards.”

  A blue Currus came up the street.

  “Looks like your aunt is here. Be careful with this new batch.”

  Trey waved a hand. “It’ll be all right. Even if the other fools can’t catch a cold, I’ve still got Shorty.”

  “I don’t have any problems with any of the men, but one thing you learn in the Corps early on is that training can help, but some men can’t handle it when push comes to shove.”

  Trey’s smile vanished. “Yeah, I get that, but these ain’t just some random bitches off the street, you know what I’m saying’? They’ve all been hardened, and they’ve all seen action. Now, don’t get me wrong, Staff Sergeant. You’ve given them discipline and knowledge and wisdom and all that shit. They’re better than they were before, but I know none of them bitches will break and run in a fight.”