Apparently, the old man was more than content to pass that information to the LAPD and let them handle it while James and Shay went after the other targets. The job was about keeping the artifacts off the street rather than delivering them to the Professor.
“Come on, you sons of bitches, where are you?” the hacker mumbled.
Their use of plate protectors made any attempt to pull their license plate numbers from a distance pointless, but it did raise the chance that some local cop might pull them over. Peyton didn’t believe he’d have that luck, so he needed to make his own.
A notice popped up on his screen, and he clicked on it. A grin spread across this face.
“Yeah, you guys thought you were so clever, but you forgot you were dealing with me.” He shook his head. “It’s almost unfair that you had to go up against me.”
Peyton had set up a few bots to monitor traffic drones and cameras for vans meeting the general description of the ones from the warehouse. Typically, he’d also have the bots try to process images and pull license plates numbers. In this case, he did the opposite. He looked exclusively for vehicles where the license’s plate couldn’t be read.
The hacker typed in a few commands and brought up a series of video feeds from hacked cameras and drones. After a couple of minutes of fast-forwarding through the feeds, he frowned.
“The guy’s not going anywhere fast. Is he lost?”
Peyton scratched his cheek and considered his prey. Maybe he was wrong. He doubted that a group of professional thieves would be so ill-prepared as to get lost, but he’d found a vehicle that seemed to be driving in erratic circles.
He snapped “Shit. Unless they have to keep moving until some rendezvous?”
LA was huge. Even with all the cameras and drones, it was hard to track everyone and everything, especially if they were on the move.
Peyton leaned forward and entered a series of commands. He needed more information. There had to be something in the area that might tip him off where the van might be going, or even if it were truly one of the thieves’ vans.
A Highway Patrol alert popped up.
Multi-car traffic accident at Sepulveda Boulevard Tunnel. Traffic is at a standstill. Please use alternate routes.
Peyton frowned. The van had been staying pretty damned close, at least in LA terms, to the tunnel, and it didn’t help his suspicions that the tunnel ran under the LAX runways.
Quick getaway in a private plane, maybe? Or just a coincidence?
Another alarm popped up. His bots had located another van.
Oh, it’s almost criminal to be this good.
He picked up his phone and dialed Brownstone.
“What do you got?” the bounty hunter rumbled.
“Major traffic accident in the Sepulveda Boulevard Tunnel.” Peyton clicked through video feeds until he found a traffic drone. A little searching yielded the van. “And one of the vans drove into that tunnel, but you’ve got another likely candidate only a few miles from you.” He rattled off the intersection.
James grunted. “We’ll hit the closer assholes, first. The other guys are bottled up, it sounds like.”
The driver of the van smiled as the two wreckers made their way through traffic. He had to hand it to the Highway Patrol. They were going to get traffic moving again even quicker than they’d planned. After the warehouse fiasco, it was nice for something to work in their favor.
The thieves’ vehicle sat in a long line of stopped cars in the darkened tunnel. No one was bothering to try to be clever and wedge their way in. Right now, everyone was probably staring at their phones, just waiting for traffic to move.
“It’s funny,” he commented to his partner. “Tons of cops here, and no one’s noticed us.”
“They’re focused on the accident.” The man in the passenger’s seat shrugged. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t.”
The driver shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. We’ll take care of them if they do. We both know what Logan will do to us if we lose this cargo. Besides, we can take on a bunch of Highway Patrol cops. It’s not like they’re AET.”
His phone chimed.
They are about to move the first car. Looks like traffic’s going to start moving. Get your asses up here before the plan gets totally fucked.
“Time to go.” The driver grinned and pulled the van off on the shoulder. He turned it off and hopped out.
Both men rushed around to the back and threw open the doors. They grabbed the four laden leather bags from the cargo area before slamming the doors closed and locking the van. Might as well make it as annoying as possible for the police.
They rushed into the tunnel, almost no one paying them any attention. A half-minute of hard running brought the men to the SUV. The back hatch started rising as they approached. They darted along the shoulder and between a few cars.
The men threw the bags in and rushed to the opposite sides of the SUV as the back hatch started to close. They hopped into the back seat.
The new arrivals shared smiles with the driver and the wizard sitting in the passenger seat.
The wizard nodded forward. “Looks like traffic’s starting to move.”
The driver of the SUV smiled. “This is the easiest job we’ve had in a while.”
Maria frowned at Sergeant Weber. “You’re serious? We’ve got a sale location for several of the artifacts?”
Their operations command center was filled with officers and support staff tapping away on laptops or answering phones, all sitting or standing around a long black table. A corkboard with pictures of the artifacts hung on the wall, along with a map with several pins indicating possible sightings of the vans.
Weber nodded. “Yeah, an anonymous tip came in about artifact sales related to the robbery, and Major Crimes and Vice have both verified the location as being Russian Mafia-controlled. Handover is happening in about thirty minutes.”
“Finally, some good luck for a change.” The lieutenant frowned. “Do we know anything about the artifacts being handed over?”
Weber nodded. “Based on what the tip and what we’ve been able to pick up from informants, they’re all stuff we classified as minor threats. Not all the minor stuff, but a lot of it.”
“Get a small team together and liaise with Major Crimes and Vice. We’ll raid some mafia asses. I want most of our manpower still on reserve.” Maria shook her head. “We got the circlet, but there are still a lot of nasty artifacts out there we need to retrieve.”
Matthews, who’d been talking on the phone, set the phone down and rushed over to Maria.
“We’ve got some major hits on the vans.”
This is falling into place. We can catch these bastards.
“Other than the black-market deal?” she asked.
Matthews nodded. “Highway Patrol was cleaning up after an accident at the Sepulveda Boulevard Tunnel. Found an abandoned van there. Nothing inside.”
Maria slammed her fist on the table. “Damn it. They switched vehicles? Anyone see anything?”
“We’re checking any drones that went into the tunnel to find out if they saw anything.” Matthews shrugged.
“So that’s one out of five. Tell me you have some good news, too.”
Matthews grinned. “Yeah, got two pieces of good news, maybe even three depending on how you look at it. We’ve got eyes on two of the other vans. They aren’t together, though. Drones following them both. The first van’s in Little Armenia right now. It’s parked, but no one’s gotten out.”
Maria sighed. “Damn it. They’re about to do a transfer or move the artifacts.” Maria pointed at Weber. “Get us some helicopters. Now.”
The sergeant nodded once and rushed over to an open phone at the other end of the table.
“The second one’s in Crenshaw,” Matthews continued. “Drone also tagged an old F-350 not far behind the van. Plates say it’s registered to one James Brownstone.” He smirked.
The lieutenant grinned back at him. “Fine. We’ll let
him handle them, and we’ll head after the second van with the rest of the team. We’ve got to nail these bastards.”
She pulled out her phone to give Brownstone a call.
The driver of the third van, Trevor, glanced into his mirror and grimaced. Even in the early evening darkness, it was hard to miss the large truck following them. “Shit.”
His partner Doug looked at him. “What?”
“How often do you see an F-350 anymore? They’re practically antiques.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Trevor shook his head. “You know who drives an F-350, don’t you? Fucking Brownstone.”
Doug shrugged. “So what? With the artifacts Logan gave us, we can kick Brownstone’s ass.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, I know so.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small golden needle. Gritting his teeth, he shoved it into his wrist and started intoning the Enochian incantation he’d been forced to memorize so many months earlier. He gagged and convulsed, straining against his seatbelt, arcs of red and black energy shooting across his body.
The driver winced. Trevor had seen it several times, but it didn’t get any easier. “Don’t die yet. You have to at least take out Brownstone first. I don’t think I can shake him. I’m going to try, but the guy’s like a fucking bulldog who just won’t let go.”
The other man opened his now-black eyes. “The only one who is going to die is Brownstone,” he offered, his voice deeper.
James slipped his phone back into his pocket and accelerated.
Shay glanced at him. “I take it that was the cops?”
He nodded. “It was Hall. She says they are going after another van. She just told me, ‘Good luck.’”
“Okay, we should be able to take one van of guys easily enough.”
Kill the enemy, the amulet all but shouted in James’ head.
Yeah, yeah. We’ll get to that. Just let me fucking concentrate, asshole.
Kill the enemy. Become stronger.
Shay had insisted he bond with the amulet before they chased down anyone else. She’d been pissed when she found out that he’d not been using it during the warehouse raid.
James pushed his foot down, and the engine of his truck roared as he closed on the van. The other vehicle jerked to the side, almost colliding with another car as it rushed over to an exit.
He pulled hard on the wheel, heading into the exit after the vehicle. “I’ll keep us on them. You do something to stop them. I doubt the cops will give us too much shit if the guys end up dead at the end of this, and the Professor doesn’t seem to care as long as we get the artifacts or the cops do.”
Shay rolled down her window and shook her head. “I hate car chases. I almost never needed a car chase when I was a killer. They’re annoying as shit most of the time.”
The bounty hunter grunted. “I have them all the time. Fuckers love to run.”
“That’s because you don’t do a good job of surprising people.” She rolled her eyes before she opened up with her 9mm. Bullets punctured the back of the van and sparked off the metal.
The van swerved and Shay shot several more times, but the target vehicle’s quick movements saved it from serious damage.
Big mistake, assholes.
James grinned. Evasive movements were great for not getting hit, but shit for speed. He floored it, and the F-350 charged right at the swerving van.
Shay brought her hand back inside and gritted her teeth.
The truck crashed into the back of the other vehicle mid-swerve. The van overturned, scraping the road and leaving a trail of glass, metal, and plastic.
James kept a tight grip on the steering wheel as he rode the brakes and turned into his slide. He lost a few layers of rubber, but in the end, the F-350 didn’t roll over or crash.
“Nice.” Shay whistled. “Well, that shit was a lot easier than I thought. Guess not every fight has to be like taking on a Drow queen.”
The wrecked van lay on its side. Half of the body was crumpled in. The door facing the sky ripped off the hinges and flew a good twenty feet into the air.
Strong enemy, the amulet whispered. Destroy. Kill.
“What the fuck?” Shay asked, and frowned.
The door crashed to the ground as a man in an Andercarr delivery uniform crawled out. He had no obvious weapons on him. A moment later, another man crawled out, also with no weapon.
James chuckled. “Got to give these guys credit; they’re pretty damned tough. Looks like they’re ready to give up. Not even gonna shoot at us. You’re right, Shay. This shit is gonna be easy.”
Kill the enemy. Defeat all enemies, the amulet whispered.
I already defeated them. They’re about to give up.
Kill the enemy.
Fuck you. You don’t tell me what to do.
The bounty hunter threw open his door and stepped out of his truck, his .45 out and ready. Just because the men didn’t have obvious weapons didn’t mean they weren’t hiding something.
Shay hopped out the other side, her gun also at the ready.
“Get on your knees and put your hands behind your fucking heads if you want to fucking live,” James bellowed. “The only reason I’m not wasting your asses right now is that you haven’t shot at me yet.”
He frowned. It was hard to spot in the darkness, especially with only a few street lights nearby and the glow from a gas station down the road, but a semi-translucent red field surrounded one of the men. The other man’s eyes were glowing bright blue. After a second, James realized the first man’s eyes were solid black.
“Guess that explains why they didn’t have any weapons,” James muttered. “Should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.”
Sample unidentified threats, then kill, the amulet replied in his mind.
“My name’s Trevor,” Blue Eyes offered.
“And I’m Doug,” the other man commented.
“I’m James Brownstone.” He shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck about your names. Get on your knees, or this is gonna hurt a lot. You assholes kidnapped someone you shouldn’t have, and now I’m in a bad mood.”
Shay groaned and rolled her eyes.
Sample, then kill, the amulet yelled in James’ mind.
Shut the fuck up.
Trevor grinned. “We just wanted you to know the names of the men who are going to kill you, Brownstone. Don’t worry, we’ll make it quick.”
The bounty hunter grunted. “That supposed to be scary, asshole?”
“Damn it, James,” Shay shouted. “I swear, the minute some guy shows up and starts saying anything, it’s like you want to have a shit-talking contest. Let’s just be efficient about this crap for once.”
The tomb raider opened fire at Trevor, but the bullets vanished in blue flashes.
Kill, kill, kill.
“Whatever,” James muttered. He opened fire at the other man. Doug jerked with each hit, but his wounds closed almost instantly.
James and Shay kept firing until their guns clicked open. They swapped their mags.
The bounty hunter grunted. “You’re tougher than I thought.”
Trevor snorted. “Our turn.” He nodded to Doug. “You take the bitch. I’ll take Brownstone.”
Both men yelled and charged.
James sighed, holstered his pistol, and rushed toward Trevor.
Doug opened his mouth. An unearthly scream erupted, along with a blast of black flame. Shay leapt to the side, and the flame exploded behind her. The force almost knocked her off her feet.
“That’s national-level magic shit right there,” the tomb raider shouted as she spun to avoid another blast.
Distracted by Shay getting attacked, James didn’t see Trevor’s fist coming. A heavy thud sounded, and the bounty hunter smashed into the ground a few yards away.
That was like getting nailed by a truck.
Trevor grinned and smacked a fist into his palm. “The great James Brownstone. Not reall
y impressive in the end, are you?”
James stood up and moved his sore jaw back and forth. “You didn’t break anything, asshole. Got to take me out before you can say that kind of shit.”
Doug’s echoing shrieks mixed with the sound of Shay’s gun blasting away at him.
Maybe time to try something a little different. Gun’s not working anyway.
James lifted his hand to focus his telekinesis. He attempted to jerk Trevor’s legs out from under him, but nothing happened.
The other man snorted. “What’s that supposed to do? Freak me out? I’m so scared.”
What the fuck? Is he immune to it?
Ability not used, the amulet explained in his mind. Core changed. Skin stronger.
Are you fucking seriously saying you got rid of telekinesis because I didn’t use it enough?
Yes. Skin stronger.
Can you bring it back?
Yes. If partner changes strategy.
James didn’t know whether he should be furious or intrigued. Apparently, even his damn amulet had tactical revision notes for him now, but he did like the sound of “skin stronger.”
“Pay attention to me, fucker!” Trevor shouted. “I’m gonna fucking end you.”
The bounty hunter snorted. “Oh, yeah. You’re still here.”
He shook his head and rushed toward Trevor. The bounty hunter threw up an arm to block the other man’s punch and slammed his fist into the criminal’s head. The man jerked back but didn’t go flying. James had to give him credit for that.
The two traded a flurry of blows. Trevor managed to get in a few decent hits, but they didn’t do much more than sting. A powerful right hook from James and a punch into the stomach had the criminal staggering back, blood spraying from his mouth.
No use for adaptation, the amulet whispered. Kill the enemy.
Shay rolled, ducked, and dodged as Doug kept vomiting hellfire at her. She tossed a sonic grenade at him, but the man made no effort to dodge and didn’t even seem to notice. Only the nearly ear-shattering whine let her know it had gone off.
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus Page 70
