The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

  The elf shrugged. “It was. I unlocked it.”

  “You could have just knocked.”

  “Opening it was more fun. Don’t worry, I come bearing good news.”

  James gulped some more beer. “Could use some, and you’re certainly making enough money off me.”

  “Well, I’m earning it.” Dannec sauntered over to the bar. “I’m beginning to understand the sigils.”

  “They weren’t just some sort of self-destruct system?” Shay asked.

  Dannec shook his head. “No, they are part of a magical energy channeling system. Relays to a sort of amplifier.”

  James frowned. “Amplifying what?”

  “Could be a lot of things, but that’s less important than understanding they are relays. I can potentially trace the magic now by experimenting with sigils of my own.” Dannec pointed to some top-shelf vodka. “How about a little bonus for all my hard work, Tyler?”

  Tyler eyed him for a second, the look on his face suggesting he was going to object, before grabbing the liquor and pouring a glass.

  James nodded, the hint of a grin coming to his face. Finally, things were going their way. “You can trace it to the Council?”

  “I can trace it to where it’s being sent, and I doubt they’d be collecting energy just to make for an impressive little safehouse. There’s a good chance they’ll be at the target site.” Dannec took a large drink of his vodka. “Ah, humans are good when it comes to spirits.” He set the drink down. “But unfortunately, it’s not all good news.”

  Tyler frowned. Maria and Shay looked annoyed.

  The bounty hunter frowned. “Of course. What’s the bad news?”

  “If I’m not careful about this they might be able to trace it back to me, or I could blow myself up. It’s going to take me a few days to get the artifacts I need to do this securely and safely and a few more after that to trace them, so about a week overall.”

  James grunted. “That’s it? That’s not bad news. That’s just more time to prepare our ass-kicking surprise.”

  Dannec laughed. “Ah, that’s the most interesting formulation of optimism I’ve ever come across.” He picked his vodka up for another sip and offered an appreciative sigh.

  Shay snickered and nodded to Maria. “If we’re not going to go beat them down right away, I’m going to go show her a little something tomorrow. She needs better gear.”

  It couldn’t be.

  James stared at Shay. “You’re gonna take her to a warehouse?”

  She nodded. “It’s not like she can use official AET gear, and if she’s going to join us for the final party, I need to hook a sister up. We’re gonna hit Warehouse Three tomorrow so she can do a little shopping.”

  “Your place. Your rules.” He shrugged.

  James picked up his beer and took a large gulp. The situation had changed in a matter of minutes. They might soon have the intelligence they needed. A week was plenty of time for additional training.

  Not too late to surrender, you Council assholes.

  The next morning, Trey and several other of the men crouched outside a massive maze-like construct of walls and raised towers. Small holes pierced the walls. It covered the area where the Camp Brownstone mud pit had been located previously.

  Damn. Wonder if this means there’ll be no more Mud King competitions.

  “This is the shit you had people putting together when we were staking out those Council bastards?” Trey asked.

  Royce chuckled. “James let me task the bulk of the remaining men with this little combat-engineering project. A little manual labor never hurt anyone. You guys are lucky you’re not living in barracks where I can make you clean your toilets with toothbrushes.”

  The bounty hunters who’d been left behind all groaned.

  “What the fuck is this thing?” Shorty asked. “Why ain’t we just using the tactical room?”

  “Because the tactical room is good for training, but it involves a lot of expensive gear. That means certain training options such as live-fire exercises wouldn’t be a good idea.” The DI pointed to the walls and towers. “Welcome to your new training environment, Fort Brownstone. James has informed me that you’ll soon have to take on powerful magical foes. I don’t have Alison here to throw spells at you, so I’m going to do my best to simulate magical attacks. I’ve been provided a few toys that’ll help you see monsters to make it more realistic.”

  Shorty narrowed his eyes. “What the fuck you talking about, Staff Sergeant?”

  “A little something James got from a supplier. You’ll see some fucked-up monsters, and you’ll go after them with live ammunition. You all need better psychological preparation for what you might see.”

  Trey laughed. “You’re gonna drug our asses?”

  “Something like that, but you won’t be affected other than seeing the monsters. There’ll be a spell that stops your bullets when they hit a monster. Some will be harder to ‘kill.’” The DI headed toward the back door. “I’m going to go grab the potions. All of you get ready. The exercise will be simple. You’ll navigate Fort Brownstone to the center. Take this shit seriously. For what the supplies for this exercise alone cost, he could probably afford to hire actual mercenaries instead of training your asses. James is doing this shit so you won’t end up pissing your pants.”

  Royce marched toward the back door. “Be right back.”

  Trey rubbed his chin, thinking about the confrontation in Texas. He wondered if the only reason they hadn’t lost it was that they couldn’t see the monster clearly. Even then, not every man in the agency might have shown the fortitude his team had displayed. The training made sense.

  He chuckled. “I don’t think this shit’s gonna go down as nicely as that bounty with Howard.”

  Shorty shook his head. “Still don’t like that shit. Don’t know why we had to go non-lethal against a bunch of fuckers with guns. We beat their asses, but it still wasn’t a fair fight.”

  Lachlan snorted. “At least you got to beat someone down.”

  Trey shrugged. “Look, most bounties ain’t dead or alive. Depending on who issued the bounty, if you end up killing them, you might only get half the money if you’re lucky, or you get none of it. What good is being a motherfucking bounty hunter if you ain’t getting paid?”

  Shorty blinked. “Never thought much before why the big man doesn’t just waste more people’s asses. I just thought he didn’t want us to come off like gangster thugs.”

  Royce appeared from the building holding a plastic bag filled with a dozen small bottles, each filled with a liquid and a small gemstone. “Line up and get your weapons ready. Oh, one last thing. I forgot to tell you that if you get too close to one of these monsters without disabling it, it’ll make the shocks in the tactical room seem like a baby’s slap in comparison, and you will piss yourself.”

  He hurled two bottles in rapid succession toward the nearest wall of Fort Brownstone and both shattered. The liquid vaporized in an instant, and their gems hovered in the air, turning slowly.

  Trey narrowed his eyes. “That ain’t look so scary.”

  Royce started chucking more bottles into Fort Brownstone. Before the rest even hit the ground, there was a bright flash from the first two gemstones.

  Two ten-foot-tall giants with mottled flesh and three eyes replaced one of the gemstones. They let out loud roars.

  Several of the men winced and stepped back.

  A huge black widow, easily the size of Trey’s F-350, replaced the other gem. More flashes occurred, and a menagerie of creatures appeared: skeletons, goblins, vampires, slithering masses of tentacles with human mouths but no eyes, weird-ass frogmen, four-armed blue-skinned demons with razor-sharp claws, and even several upright cockroaches with human eyes.

  “That’s some fucked-up shit,” Trey muttered.

  Royce laughed. “Yeah, it is. I suggest you start the battle, men.” He pulled out his phone. “I forget to mention I’m giving you fifteen minutes to get to the center? If yo
u don’t get there by then, I’m going to throw in another bottle I have to simulate a Council self-destruct.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. It won’t kill you, just really, really hurt you. James has authorized me to use healing potions for this exercise, so at least you won’t die.”

  The men groaned in unison.

  Trey adjusted his tie and pulled out his gun. “Time to kill me some monsters."

  19

  The good thing about having been a politician for decades was that it helped a man develop the important skill of smiling at a fool when said fool was running his damned mouth. Senator Johnston worked on finishing his salmon while his dining partner continued his latest rant.

  Senator McNamara slammed a hand on the table. “What’s the point of oversight if we’re not actually providing oversight?”

  Senator Johnston swallowed and took a sip of his water before responding. “How is the task force not being provided oversight?”

  “The rest of the oversight committee hasn’t gotten any reports out of the task force since Senator Silvers’ arrest. You’ve been helping them run this operation like some sort of weird cowboy crap. And given the extensive resources being mobilized, I also fail to see why an Authorization for the Use of Military Force hasn’t been voted on.”

  Senator Johnston chuckled. “This isn’t a time to play political games. The country’s security’s at stake. Hell, the world’s security is at stake. It doesn’t matter. Come on, Bobby. We’ve already had a vote that makes this all nice and legal.”

  The other senator narrowed his eyes. “I don’t remember that. When, exactly?”

  “They passed one fifteen years ago after that nonsense with the terrorist wizard. What his name? Yeah, Michael Galbraith.” Johnston pulled out his phone and typed before clearing his throat. “Authorization for Use of United States Armed Forces and Relevant Support Personnel. In general, it says that the President is authorized to use all necessary and appropriate forces against those nations of either Earth or Oriceran, organizations, and/or persons he determines are planning, authorizing, committing, or aiding terrorist attacks related directly or indirectly to the wizard Michael Galbraith through use of magical or other enhanced means in order to prevent any future acts of international terrorism against the United States by such nations, organizations, or persons.” He took a sip of water. “War Powers Resolution Requirements. (1) Consistent with section 8(a)(1) of the War Powers Resolution, the Congress declares that this section is intended to constitute specific statutory authorization within the meaning of section 5(b) of the War Powers Resolution with the 2022 addendum to redefine ‘authorized forces to include both United States military forces, federally licensed bounty hunters, and federally licensed private military contractors.”

  Senator McNamara stared at him dumbfounded. “Michael Galbraith’s dead. The Council doesn’t have anything to do with him.”

  “Now, we don’t know that.” Senator Johnston shrugged with a smile.

  “You’re abusing a statute that was targeted toward a particular individual’s organization as an excuse to run a black op using federal resources and a dangerously unpredictable bounty hunter. This is beyond absurd. It goes to the point of parody.”

  Senator Johnston laughed. “When you say it like that it sounds so sordid. This isn’t some killing innocent peasants in a village thing, Bobby. This is stopping a bunch of dangerous people who weren’t above assassinating the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Get some damned perspective.”

  Senator McNamara shook his head, his face reddening. “Given everything I’ve heard about James Brownstone, I’m sure he’s breaking laws and causing countless unjustified deaths. Quite frankly, if you’re not going to provide oversight, then you should know that all of the people involved in this will pay for their flouting of the law and the death and destruction they’re responsible for.”

  “I assure you that no unnecessary death or destruction is going on.”

  The other man leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. “Then why can’t you give us reports? Even a single one? What are you hiding? What is Brownstone hiding? There should be an immediate halt to this operation until we get more reports.”

  Senator Johnston offered him a placating smile. “You’ll forgive me if after having a member of the task force assassinated and discovering another is working for the terrorists, I’m reticent to spread our information all over. Congress leaks like a sieve.”

  The other senator stood and shook his head. “Thanks for the lunch, Bill. I’m not going to keep yelling at you about it, but I also want you to know that I’m not letting this go. I will stop this operation if you refuse oversight.”

  “Do what you need to do. We all serve the country in our own way.”

  Senator Johnston watched as his colleague stormed out of the restaurant. Once the other man had left the building, the senator picked up his phone and texted a quick message.

  Thirty seconds later, his phone rang and he answered it. “Meet me at Calabrese in an hour. I have a favor to ask.”

  Shay smirked as Maria walked through Warehouse Three behind her, shaking her head. “Sorry about the blindfold, but I guess I only trust you ninety percent, not a hundred percent. Old habits die hard.”

  Maria eyed the shelves and racks of weapons and equipment filling the room and whistled. “When you told me the other night about having a warehouse filled with weapons, I thought you had a storage unit stocked with some boxes, not a literal warehouse.”

  “This is just one of them. I’ve got different types: one with workout gear, another with my magic stuff, and my library. Warehouse Two’s kind of my office. That’s where Peyton hangs out.”

  The cop eyed her. “Wait, your library? You’ve got an entire warehouse filled with books?”

  Shay nodded. “Yes. Rare books. It’s the only warehouse I won’t let James see.”

  “So you’ll let him know where your magical artifact warehouse is, but you won’t let him see your library?”

  “Yeah. Those are irreplaceable books. He’ll probably walk in there and get sticky barbeque sauce on them.” Shay shrugged.

  Maria laughed as she walked over to shelves containing boxes with different types of grenades. “I think you have almost as many weapons as the entire LAPD in here. I get that you used to kill people for a living and you’re a tomb raider now, but isn’t this overkill?”

  Shay shook her head. “It’s good to be prepared. When I go on a tomb raid, it might be as simple as digging something up from the back of an old warehouse, or it might involve me having to fight magical monsters underwater.” She moved over to a gun rack and ran her hand over a few rifles. “Also, in some cases, they might be night missions, or they could be something where I’m dragging equipment around for days in the middle of the jungle, and I need to take weight into account. Not everything’s a quick in-and-out.”

  The cop grimaced. “Ugh. Seriously?”

  Shay nodded and motioned around. “I don’t keep my magical gear in here, but you’re welcome to borrow any of this stuff. I don’t have the kind of heavy armor you use in AET, but I’ve got armor. I do have a few defensive artifacts I’ll bring along, so that’ll help us, in addition to the anti-magic deflector.”

  Maria moved over toward the rifles. “Lots of rifles, but no railguns?”

  The tomb raider shook her head. “I used to have some, but I got rid of them. I don’t like them. Too unwieldy and unreliable. If I need something big and powerful, I prefer explosives.”

  Maria laughed. “Thanks for agreeing to help me out. I found out this morning they’ve accepted my leave of absence.”

  “You really sure you have to go that far?”

  The cop nodded. “There’s just too much paperwork to do and permissions I have to get otherwise, and these Council bastards are dangerous and kidnapped me, so yeah. I guess I’m channeling my inner Brownstone and ready for a little revenge.”

  Shay snickered. “Yeah, I don’t know half the time if
being with him has made me more dangerous or less dangerous.”

  “Dangerous, huh? After all that stuff you told me about history, you telling me you’ve never seriously thought about just settling down and doing less dangerous work?” Maria grabbed a nice Steyr off a rack and inspected it with a longing gaze. “If you can afford multiple warehouses filled with gear, I imagine it’s not exactly like you need to work.”

  “I ask myself that question a lot.” Shay shrugged and moved over to a shelf containing vests and armor. “Some people might say I’m addicted to danger in the end. I could be. Maybe that’s why I’m dating someone like James.”

  Maria laughed. “Yeah, Tyler may be a bit of a scumbag, but he’s really not that dangerous.”

  Shay took a deep breath. “Just so you know, very few people have ever been to this place, blindfolded or otherwise.”

  “Yeah. I get that. I know we’re kind of friends, but I’m still surprised that you’d show me all this stuff. For all you know, I could get mad and decide to bust you for all these illegal weapons.”

  The tomb raider chuckled and shook her head. “If I’m going to trust you to have my back, then I need to make sure you don’t have a damned pee shooter when we’re firing at a charging demon.”

  Maria eyed her. “So you’re saying it’s just self-preservation?”

  “I’m saying that’s what I tell myself so I can sleep at night.”

  “I’ve got your back whether you like it or not.” Maria smirked. “But trusting a cop makes you nervous and restless?”

  “Don’t feel too bad. It used to be that trusting anyone made me nervous and restless.” Shay reached under her jacket and pulled out one of her adamantine knives. “This was custom-made by a gnome. Pretty damned sharp, although not as powerful as the magic sword I’m going to bring to the party.” She held it out hilt-first. “But sometimes you just have to stab a motherfucker. But if you lose that, you might as well let them eat you, because I’ll have to kill you.”