The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

  “That’s for my fucking truck, asshole. You’re lucky I’m not killing your ass.”

  Eddie stumbled to his feet, his hand reaching into his coat.

  James whipped out his .45 and fired. The bounty screamed as a bullet ripped into his arm. His gun fell to the ground and he followed, dropping to his knees and clutching his wounded arm.

  Like an angry Michael ready to kick the Devil out of Heaven James marched toward Eddie, his baleful gale fixed on the man. He holstered his gun before yanking the wounded criminal up by his collar.

  “You know, asshole, sometimes reputations are there for a reason, and you’re not the smartest fucker in the room.”

  Eddie spat blood in James’ face. “Fuck you, Brownstone. I’m not begging.”

  Sirens sang in the distance.

  James dropped the bounty to the ground. “Not gonna kill you, Eddie. You wouldn’t be worth any money to me.”

  He kicked the man’s chest, ribs cracking under the blow. Eddie’s head bounced against the asphalt and he moaned, his eyes half-closed, and passed out.

  James walked until he towered over the fallen man. “But I was sorely, sorely tempted to kill your ass, even with the money. Here’s a tip, Eddie. Never, ever fuck with a man’s truck.”

  18

  An hour later, James stepped back into the Secret Sauce. Heather’s son was asleep, his head on a table. Peaceful.

  Yeah, I helped protect that kid. Made some money doing it, but it’s not a bad night’s work. Wait, where’s my barbeque?

  The bounty hunter frowned at the empty table. “I told you to not let them take my tray away. I know getting the bounties processed took a little longer than I would have liked, but I was looking forward to that food.”

  His stomach rumbled in protest.

  The waiter from before emerged from the back a few seconds later with a fresh tray of barbequed pork. “Didn’t want you eating something that had been sitting out for an hour.” He set the tray on the table. “Don’t worry, Mr. Brownstone. I called my boss and explained the situation, and he’s fine with giving you another tray on the house.”

  James shrugged and sat. “Well, as long as I have more barbeque. Kicking those guy’s asses worked up an appetite.”

  “Of course, Mr. Brownstone. If you need anything else, just let me know.” The waiter disappeared into the back.

  Heather stroked her sleeping son’s hair and offered James a smile. “Sorry about the windshield on your truck.”

  “No biggie. The bounty from the guy who broke it was more than what the cost of repair will be. Just wish the fucker hadn’t decided to do that. I tried to give them an out, but they had to keep pushing.”

  Heather nodded. “Yeah. I hacked cameras and had a drone up.” She smiled. “Thanks for all this. I know they were bounties, but I also know that you didn’t have to do this. It’s not like anyone makes James Brownstone do anything he doesn’t want to do.”

  Well, no one who isn’t named Shay.

  James shook his head. “If they were sniffing around you because of shit you did for me it’s my responsibility.” He ripped some delicious pork flesh off a rib and swallowed. “Here’s the thing… This has got me thinking. I know a little something about people hiding from their past.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Not something I’ve had to worry about, but I’ve got some close…friends who have. I also know the more you try to hide, the more power people have over you. You need to take back your life, Heather.”

  The hacker rolled her eyes. “No offense, James, but you’re a class-six bounty hunter and your soon-to-be adopted daughter is safe behind the walls of a government magic school.”

  James stared at her for a moment, surprised she knew that much about Alison.

  “Yeah, that’s right. I know your deal. It’s not like I didn’t check you out thoroughly.” Heather shrugged. “The point is, I have to be on the move to be safe, and I’m not able to defend myself like you are. I mean, you just punted a few grown men around like they were ragdolls.”

  “No, you don’t have to move all the time.” James shook his head. “You just need to be somewhere that people know it’s not a smart move to attack, or at least a place where it makes them pause and think first. Kind of like Alison and the School of Necessary Magic.”

  “Well, my son isn’t magical and neither am I.” Heather sighed. “So I don’t know what to do.”

  “I’ve got a solution. I think we should talk about you being properly employed.”

  “Properly employed?”

  James nodded and swallowed another bite of barbeque. “Yeah, employed by me, as my personal computer assistant or support person or whatever shit you want to call it. Full-time. I can pay you through the Brownstone Agency, or we can arrange something else. You get some steady money that’ll help you and your son, and I can use your help with tough jobs like Schwartz. If I’ve learned anything in this last year, it’s that even I can’t take everyone on by myself, and to get experts to help me with my weak spots.”

  “Get help? Like you said about the Harriken?”

  The bounty hunter grinned. “Yeah. Had the help of other people, not just the cops.”

  Heather sighed. “Not saying I’m not interested, but paying me money doesn’t solve my safety problem.”

  “It does if you move to LA. I can have your back right away instead of having to drive six hours to help you.” James set his rib down and glanced between another rib and some brisket. He decided on the brisket.

  A few bites later he offered, “Move to my neighborhood. Between the cops and the locals it might not be the nicest-looking place, but it’s safe, and getting safer by the day. Can’t judge it by its appearance.”

  “I know. It’s not the most expensive place, despite your money. It’s one of the reasons I like you. You aren’t pretentious.” Heather looked down. “I’m not so sure about that. How do you know there’s a place I can even stay there? A place that would be good for my son and me.”

  James grunted. “I know a place. Not only a good place, but a super-fucking-safe place.”

  “Where? And why is it safe?”

  “Because it’s an apartment owned by cop who is known to be a close personal friend of mine. Sergeant Mack of the LAPD. There’s also a good Magnet school in the area, and I’m sure having a cop vouch for you will help your kid get in when it’s time for him to start school.”

  Heather’s expression alternated between hope and confusion. “You want me to live with a cop as my landlord? You do know I’ve done a lot of illegal stuff? Hell, I’ve done illegal stuff for you.”

  “Hey, if you’re working for me, Mack will have no problem with you.” James shrugged, not sure what else to say. “Your call. You’re a good asset, and I need someone like you. But I’m not gonna force you. I can only offer you money and some protection.”

  “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise.”

  “Fair enough.” James took another bite of his brisket. “I’m gonna polish off the rest of this barbeque, then I’m gonna find a place to stay for the night.” He shook his head. “Six hours to LA? California is too damned big.”

  Heather laughed.

  Sergeant Choi tapped on his keyboard behind the front counter and shook his head. “Damn, Trey. You guys went on a tear this time. Keep this up, and there won’t be many bounties left in Vegas.” He chuckled.

  Trey leaned against the counter with a smirk on his face. “That’s how the Brownstone Agency rolls, Sergeant. Why waste time and let bounties run around doing what they want?”

  “Just surprised at some of these. I mean, I’m glad you brought in Jacob Johns, but I’d heard he hired a witch bodyguard. You guys are good, but I thought that’d be more a Brownstone thing than a Brownstone Agency thing.”

  Trey snorted. “Please, Sergeant. The Brownstone Agency ain’t afraid of a few witches. Los Angeles is crawling with that sort of shit. We’re ready to take on whatever we need to get our ma
n, just like our boss.”

  The sergeant looked around for a moment and then leaned in closer. “I want you to level with me.”

  “About what?”

  “It’s not like we don’t know about your background.”

  Trey narrowed his eyes. He wondered if some thug disrespect was coming his way. It was a good thing Shorty and the rest of the boys were back at the loft with his aunt. They wouldn’t be able to handle disrespect from a cop.

  “What about my background?”

  The cop shrugged. “It’s not every day that a bunch of gang members decide to put on suits and switch teams.”

  “And what do you think about that, Sergeant?” Trey tried to keep the hostility out of his voice.

  “I’m not complaining. You guys are taking down bounties left and right, and you’re doing it with a lot more professionalism than a lot of guys running around calling themselves bounty hunters. It’s not what I would have expected, but I guess it makes sense to apply street smarts to bounty hunting.” Sergeant Choi frowned. “I don’t know. The average gang member around here doesn’t strike me as the type who would want to get a bounty-hunting license and start running down their fellow criminals.” He entered a few more lines into the bounty-processing document he was working on.

  Trey snorted. “You see, that’s where you’re all twisted up about this.”

  “How?”

  The bounty hunter nodded down the hallway to where a frowning and handcuffed man with a black eye was being led to the lock-up by an officer. “Why do you think I joined a gang to begin with? Why do you think I worked my way up to lead the gang?”

  “I don’t know, you liked power? Kicking ass? You wanted people to be afraid of you?”

  Trey shook his head. “My nana always wanted the best for me. She looked after me when I didn’t have a mom around to keep an eye on me. She’s a good woman; goes to church, worked her entire life. But that didn’t stop bullets from passing through her living room because some dumbasses were doing a drive-by in the neighborhood.”

  Sergeant Choi stopped typing and focused on Trey.

  “Yeah, I wanted power and for people to be afraid,” the bounty hunter continued. “I wanted people to be so fucking afraid they wouldn’t dare fuck with anyone I cared about or even think about letting bullets fly without my permission.” Trey slammed his hand down on the counter. “That’s what most gangs are, Sergeant. You’re a cop; you’ve got to know that. It’s about protection in places where you can’t always depend on anyone else.”

  The cop and the bounty hunter silently locked eyes for a long moment.

  “Do you feel safe now in your neighborhood?” Sergeant Choi asked. “Even though you aren’t in a gang anymore?”

  “You’re wrong. I’m still in a gang. I’m just in a tougher fucking gang.” Trey ran his hand down his lapel. “This is a uniform. These are gang colors for the Brownstone Agency, led by the toughest motherfucker in the United States; a man who is so strong he brought down the Harriken.” He shook his head. “I don’t need to be in charge, Sergeant. All I ever wanted was for my nana and friends to be safe, and now Mr. Brownstone’s shown me how I can do that and not annoy the 5-0. He started by giving me respect, and I gave him respect back.”

  Sergeant Choi held his hands in front of him. “No disrespect was meant, Trey. I’m really happy with how you guys are performing. I was just curious.”

  “No problem, Sergeant. I’m just happy the Brownstone Agency can be of assistance to the great city of Las Vegas.”

  “You guys are a huge help. I know your teams rotate and are part-time, but I’m hoping someday that we’ll get a permanent branch office here in Vegas.”

  Trey shrugged. “Never know what the future will bring.”

  “Okay, just let me finish these documents, and it’ll free up the funds due.”

  “Always nice doing business with you, Sergeant.”

  19

  James smiled. His exit was coming up, and he’d be back home soon. He wasn’t sure what Heather would decide about working for him or moving to Los Angeles, but taking down Eddie Green hadn’t been a mistake.

  Fucking asshole should have just surrendered. People ask for my picture in restaurants, but there’s always some fucker who thinks I’m all talk and no walk.

  He frowned as he took in the crack on his windshield. He’d need to get that taken care of soon. Without any bounties coming up, he should have time to get it taken care of that day.

  And those fuckers really, really shouldn’t have hurt my truck.

  Beating a man to a pulp because he damaged your truck wasn’t an overreaction. It was justice.

  The bounty hunter’s hands tightened around his steering wheel. A loose piece of pavement to the windshield wasn’t as bad as wood smashing into his truck from his burning house, but his poor F-350 had been through a lot in the last year.

  I wonder if Zoe knows someone who could make some sort of potion for my truck. Maybe even her. Is that even a thing? Maybe I could apply it like wax or some shit.

  James’ phone rang, snapping him out of his truck-related brooding. He shook his head and glanced down at his phone on the console. Tyler was calling, so the bounty hunter answered on speakerphone.

  “What’s up, Tyler?”

  “Lars Hansen just called,” Tyler explained. “He’s ready for the party to begin.”

  James pulled from his lane into his exit. “He’s got the time?”

  “Yeah. He says he wants the showdown to be in four hours.”

  “What? four hours from right now?” James grunted and turned off the exit onto a surface street.

  “Of course. What do you think it’d be, four hours from next Tuesday?”

  James’ many conversations with Alison had trained him well. He could hear Tyler’s eyes roll.

  The bounty hunter grunted. “You’re lucky I just got back to town.”

  “Wait, you weren’t in town? Brownstone, you had this fight coming up. What the fuck were you doing?”

  “Bounty hunting, asshole. I’m not your fucking employee.”

  Shit. Why did I even agree to this?

  Tyler muttered something under his breath. “Just saying, this might be your one shot to get this guy without him being in the middle of a park or something.”

  James didn’t respond to Tyler immediately. Instead, he took a hard turn into a nearby parking lot before pulling out again and heading back toward the onramp. He hated that Tyler was right.

  “Don’t whine about it,” the bounty hunter rumbled. “I’m back now. I’ll grab some gas on the edge of town, get some gear, and then head straight to the fucking Salton Sea.”

  Tyler let out a sigh of relief. “Good. For a second there, I thought you were going to flake on me.”

  “Nah. I’ve got an appointment with a level five.”

  Fucking Lars. You couldn’t give me a day’s notice?

  Tyler whistled to himself as he counted money at his desk in his back office. Betting on Brownstone might be uncomfortable, but winning was a foregone conclusion with the man’s track record. At least this time he wasn’t alone. There was a healthy pro-Brownstone betting faction, even among people who otherwise hated the bounty hunter.

  Some of these idiots can actually learn. Good for them. Can’t run away from the truth, no matter how annoying it is.

  The information broker’s greed murdered his earlier concern over helping his nemesis. If Tyler ever got upset later that he was working with Brownstone, he figured he’d just go to the bank, withdraw a pile of hundred-dollar bills, and roll around in it.

  I’ve got to stop thinking like a short-sighted idiot and remember that I’m a successful businessman. Brownstone’s not my partner. He’s a product I’m exploiting to make money.

  Maybe I’ll even start another place in a different spot in town. Kathy can run it, and collect more info for me. Yeah, that shit would work out well.

  Tyler stood and moved to the corner of the room. He plac
ed his palm over a smooth spot on the wall. A light flashed, and a hidden panel popped open to reveal a safe.

  He tapped in a code to open the safe and slipped the money inside.

  “Thanks, Brownstone, for making me the money to pay for this safe and the palm reader. Maybe I’ll upgrade to a DNA scanner with what I win from this fight.” He rubbed his chin. If he made enough money, he could start messing around with trying to get some magical protection.

  Brownstone obviously uses a lot of magic. At least potions, but I bet he’s got all sorts of artifacts hidden on him when he fights. Doesn’t matter, as long as it makes me money.

  Tyler laughed. Nothing like being a winner no matter what.

  He closed the safe and the hidden panel. Between online and physical bets, he was going to make a shit-ton of money just off his take from the pot, let alone what he’d earned off Brownstone’s victory.

  Maybe I should hedge against him. It’s not like Brownstone will always win. He’s just a guy, not a god.

  Someone knocked on his door.

  “What?”

  The door opened, and Kathy stepped through. “A large blond asshole is here to see you.”

  “Lars Hansen?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I can’t believe you told that guy to come here. He smells of trouble.”

  “Of course he does. That’s why I’m going to make money.” Tyler walked toward the door. “The man wanted to place some bets, and I want his money. Don’t worry, this situation is completely under control.”

  Kathy rolled her eyes. “You think that throwing some level five at Brownstone and being involved directly in that shit is having the situation completely under control?” The woman shook her head. “For such a smart guy, Tyler, sometimes you can be a real dumbass.”

  Tyler stopped at the door and frowned. “Okay, Miz Junior Bartender and Info Broker, explain to me how this is a problem? I’m making money, and both Brownstone and Lars know the score. The cops can’t bitch about Brownstone going after a bounty, and it’s not like I’m setting him up, because he agreed to the whole thing.” He shrugged. “Is this just you being a chick?”