The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus

by Michael Anderle

  The man swallowed and adjusted his tie, his hand dropping to his side. “I’m just taking a little break on my way to work. Why should I have to tell you anything? You’re just some bounty hunter, not the police.” He sniffed disdainfully.

  James grunted. “This is my neighborhood, and I’ve promised everyone that I’ll keep it safe, so I like to keep an eye on suspicious people. You look and act suspicious as all fuck.”

  The man sneered. “How am I suspicious? I’m not a tattooed freak with a mangy dog.”

  “Don’t talk shit about my dog, asshole.”

  The animal barked several times and growled, taking a few steps forward.

  “Screw this,” the man snarled.

  He opened the briefcase and flung it at James, the air filling with strips of shredded paper. James knocked the case down, but the man had already vaulted over the bench and was sprinting away.

  “What the fuck?” James growled, confused by the man and his confetti attack.

  He was gonna hand this shit off to someone, maybe? Trade briefcases? What?

  His dog matched him.

  The bounty hunter nodded to his new dog. “Let’s go, boy. Time to kick some ass.” He rushed after the man, the dog joining him.

  Their quarry vaulted a fence. James charged it, but his dog rushed toward an opening farther down.

  Resisting the urge to smash right through the fence, James jumped to the top and pulled himself over. He dropped to the ground and looked around for the man.

  There was nothing but houses and trees lining the quiet street, a few cars here and there.

  “Where the fuck did he go?”

  Loud barking sounded from down the street, and James jerked his head in that direction. The man was running toward an SUV, the dog in hot pursuit.

  James ran his way. The man threw open the door of the SUV, but the dog leapt on him and sank his teeth into the man’s leg.

  The suited man let out a howl of pain. “You fucking mutt. I will kill you.” Grimacing and trying to shake the dog off, he reached into his jacket.

  With a roar of anger, James picked up the pace. The man yanked a gun out and pointed it at the dog, but the bounty hunter closed the distance. He grabbed the man’s arm and forced it up just as the gun went off. With a quick yank, he dislocated the man’s arm.

  The man screamed and dropped his gun. The dog released his death grip and backed up, growling, blood dripping from his mouth like Cujo reincarnated.

  “You fucking son of a bitch,” the man screamed. “I will fucking kil—”

  James slammed a fist into his face, and the man’s head snapped back and he slumped to the ground, his arm hanging at an odd angle and blood pooling underneath his wounded leg.

  “You’re damned fucking lucky I held back, asshole,” James rumbled. “I should have fucking killed you for threatening my dog. If you know who I am, you should ask around about what I do to people who hurt my dog.”

  The dog padded over to the unconscious man and tugged at a pocket.

  Oh, yeah, no point in talking to the fucker since I knocked his ass out, but what’s he got on him? Food? The dog’s earned it.

  James leaned down and reached inside to find a baggie filled with dark green powder. No, not just powder—dust.

  He grunted. The drug, derived from Oriceran plants, had become popular in recent years. It wasn’t magical directly, but sometimes magic was used in its production. A few kilograms of dust could easily be worth millions of dollars.

  James chuckled. “You picked the wrong park for a drug deal, fucker.”

  He leaned over to scratch his dog’s ears. “Good boy. Maybe I should call you ‘Dust.’” He chuckled. “Nah, that’s just weird.”

  A few hours later, someone knocked at James’ front door. He glanced at his sleeping dog curled up in a doggie bed in front of the TV before rising to answer the door.

  Sergeant Mack stood on the other side.

  James grunted. “Didn’t know you were coming. We didn’t have a PFW meeting today.”

  Mack shook his head. “Not here about that. I was already nearby, so I figured I’d stop by and talk about that dust dealer you and your dog caught.”

  James nodded and motioned to the couch. “What, is the fucker planning to sue me or some shit? I’d like to see him try.”

  The cop made his way to the couch. “Nah, he’s got a lot more important shit to worry about. Turns out he’s a lieutenant of a huge drug lord. Apparently, your boy decided he wants to go solo, so he flew here from New Jersey to set up shop with some guys locally. Besides all the names and connections he has back East, he’s got a lot of people he can flip on here. Vice is crapping their pants. This is basically a best-case scenario for them.”

  James grunted. “What the fuck was he doing in my park?”

  Mack laughed. “The idiot didn’t do his due diligence. The guy he was supposed to meet, who Vice has already picked up, suggested it. He didn’t tell our boy, but this other guy figured that you cleared out all the local scum in this neighborhood so they could do a major deal with less risk.” He slapped his knee. “And that fool runs right into you and this dog. What an unlucky guy.”

  James looked at his sleeping dog. “He sniffed those drugs right out. Maybe he’s a police dog.” He frowned. “Not that they usually look like that.”

  Mack shook his head. “I half-wondered, but, nope. No missing police dogs anywhere in California. Maybe the dog used to work for some drug dealer.” He frowned. “Maybe he’s just got good instincts. You know, for justice.”

  Shay emerged from the stairs. James hadn’t even heard her, but unlike him, she was good at not drawing attention to herself.

  She chuckled. “That dog likes me and he never growls at me, so his justice instincts can’t be that good.”

  Mack stared at the dog. “Got a name yet?”

  James shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Leaning toward one?” Mack asked.

  “Been thinking a lot, but I haven’t come up with one.”

  Mack grinned. “Then what about Justice?”

  Shay snorted. “Last thing James needs is a preachy dog.”

  James shrugged. “I’ll think about it.”

  Justice? Shay’s right. I kick ass, but I’m not a cop. I’m not about justice. Probably can’t call my dog Ass-kicker or Biter, either.

  James grinned. “Could call him ‘Sonofabitch.’ That’s true, after all.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “That was so painfully bad that I think they felt it in Oriceran.”

  He grunted and scratched his cheek. Naming his new dog was proving harder than he thought.

  Francis’ mother squeezed his hand. “Keep hold of me, sweetie. There are a lot of people at the amusement park today, and I don’t want you to get lost.”

  He smiled up at her. “Yes, Mommy.”

  People flowed around the pair, families, children, and teens, all rushing to different buildings or rides, desperate to get in all the enjoyment they could from the Happy Magic Land Amusement Park. A few costumed characters wandered by, waving and bouncing—Captain Duckster and the Rabbiteer.

  A man stood near a tree watching the crowd, his face blank and his eyes covered by sunglasses. A faint red glow shone on the edges of the glasses. If the boy hadn’t been staring right at him, he might have missed it.

  The boy pointed at the man. “Look, Mommy. That man is magic.”

  His mother sighed and frowned at him. “Shush, now. It’s rude to point at people just because they look different, and there are a lot of people who come from Oriceran to visit this park. I don’t think they have amusement parks on Oriceran.” She looked around and sighed as she spotted a Light Elf eating a snow cone a few feet in the opposite direction and mistaking him for her son’s object of interest. “I’m sorry, sir. He’s young. He doesn’t mean anything by it.”

  The elf blinked and shrugged. “Uh. Sure. Okay, then. I’m just going to go back to eating my snow cone now.”

&n
bsp; The boy’s mother tugged on his arm. “Let’s go, Francis.”

  Francis looked back toward the man with glowing eyes and sunglasses, but he was gone. A faint red glow surrounded a rock on the ground.

  “Oh, he turned into a rock.” The rock stopped glowing. “But I think he died.”

  His mother glared at him. “Don’t make me regret bringing you here.”

  17

  Shay paced back and forth in James’ living room. The dog was following her, not barking and wagging his tail. She was supposed to already be at Warehouse Three arming up, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave.

  This is a bad idea. Something is wrong. I can feel it. It’s like I can smell the damned blood in the air but can’t find the body. Something’s just not sitting right, but what?

  She sucked in a breath and rubbed the back of her neck.

  James looked up from the article on seasonal spicing he was reading on his phone. “You trying to walk the dog inside?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe I shouldn’t go on the tomb raid.”

  He grunted. “Why? You said it was just some Canadian shit. You don’t have to fly halfway across the world for this one. Not like you’re gonna have to ride some horse in the desert for days.”

  Shay stopped pacing, and the dog barked and ran around her legs a few times before retreating to his doggie bed. “I’ve just got a bad feeling. I’ve had it for a while. Not saying it’s psychic or magical or something, just years of instinct.”

  James shrugged. “About He Who Hunts? He’s dead, or he ran back to Oriceran to go cry about the Council getting their asses handed to them. Even Senator Johnston said they’ve seen no Council shit, and they’ve got half the fucking spy shops in the world looking for them. Tyler hasn’t mentioned anything about the Council. There are no Council safe houses left, and no Council wizards. We’ve wiped those fuckers out. If there are any left, they can join the survivors of the Harriken and the Nuevo Gulf Cartel and form some sort of ‘We Got Our Asses Kicked’ club.” He grunted. “I’ve got instincts too, you know.”

  “Yeah. Bounty hunter instincts, which aren’t the same as killer instincts.” Shay sighed.

  James shook his head. “But you’re not a killer anymore.”

  “That doesn’t matter, and that floating asshole probably isn’t the only bad guy in the world who has a beef with you.” Shay crossed her arms. “If it’s not some random crazy assassin or serial bomber or whatever, it might be you and Tyler coming up with some stupid idea to do another pay-per-view. Maybe that’s what’s setting me off. Maybe you’re hiding something from me.”

  He chuckled. “I learned my lesson about that. I’m not doing that shit again.”

  “Because you got ambushed?”

  “No, because you’re still bitching about it.” James shrugged.

  Shay sighed.

  Why am I so worried? Because I’ve been thinking about a future with him so much? Damn it. Love is nice, but it’s also fucking annoying at times.

  James grunted. “You keep forgetting how I didn’t die a single time before I met you. I’ll be fine. Go on your raid."

  Shay shook her finger. “Death isn’t like getting a cold. It only takes once, and if you’re already dead, it’s not like you can use the wish. Plus, you never know when someone will come at you. I blew that bitch Yulia down a well with grenades, and she kept coming back.”

  “Yeah, but you killed her eventually.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Yeah, eventually.”

  “Just saying.” James shrugged. “Besides, I’m taking it easy. Not doing any bounties for a few weeks, and I found my new dog, and now the only thing I have to worry about is barbeque. Even Father McCartney’s happy. I don’t have to go in there and admit much other than cussing. Oh, shit. I did feel a little wrath when I dislocated that guy’s shoulder.” He rubbed his chin. “But I didn’t kill anyone this week.”

  Shay snickered. “True restraint.”

  James nodded. “Yeah, it fucking was.” He shrugged. “Hard to get into too much trouble with barbeque, and we’re not even competing for a while.”

  “Knowing you, some barbeque demon will attack you while I’m gone.”

  A hungry look appeared on James’ face. “A barbeque demon, huh?”

  Seriously, James? There’s a hobby, and there’s an obsession.

  Shay slapped a hand to her forehead. “You probably wouldn’t be able to eat it.” She sighed. “Okay, screw it. You’re right. I’m being a crazy bitch. I’m gonna head to Warehouse Three and finish packing.” She pointed at him. “But only because you said you’re going to do nothing but barbeque.”

  “And I still have my promise to Alison about not doing any major building raids without backup.”

  Shay nodded slowly. “Good. I’ll make this little Alberta trip quick.” She walked over to the dog to pet him before heading to the door. “You should really settle on a name for the dog soon.”

  “Jessie Rae?”

  Shay shook her head and said nothing as she threw open the door.

  James grunted. “Okay, maybe not. Mean to call a dog Jessie Rae when he can’t even eat a lot of barbeque.”

  Kathy stared down at the tablet on the bar. She’d been scouring the dark web for days now but couldn’t find anything to suggest any unusual risk to the city. Most high-level bounties had been avoiding LA, and the Brownstone Agency had taken down a few level fours who’d dared pop their heads up.

  Is the Eyes just yanking my chain? He has to care if something dangerous is coming to LA. He’s not immortal, right?

  Tyler walked over and looked over her shoulder. “You’ve been up to some shit lately. Too much. You’re distracted. Even you have to notice it. Your tips are down.”

  “The Eyes,” she murmured. “He said it was a test. Did you have to put up with that kind of shit when you first met him?”

  Tyler snorted. “When I first met him? You can’t do anything with that asshole without him playing games. I’m sure he gets off on it as much as whatever he takes from people who go to his place, and he’s never clear at all, but yeah, he gave me a big speech about tests when I first talked to him. Three different things. Fuck, I didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to be testing: resourcefulness, ruthlessness, or something else.”

  Kathy eyed Tyler. “What about bravery?”

  “Bravery?” He shrugged. “He tested your bravery?”

  Kathy frowned at the tablet. “He sent a shadow man to attack me.”

  Tyler frowned. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Kathy snorted. “What were you going to do about it? Go to the Eyes and make him apologize? Call the cops? I shot the bastard and that was that, but he called me and told me something was coming, a danger that I needed to find. He made it sound like it would be a big deal, maybe serious danger to the city.” She shook her head. “I’ve been looking around, but I haven’t been able to find anything. If anything, things are safer than they’ve been in a while. Everything’s kind of safe by the standards of LA.”

  Tyler smirked. “Oh, Kathy, I’m disappointed.” He smirked. “You’re so smart, but still naïve and young.”

  Kathy whipped her head in his direction. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Tyler shook his head. “He’s playing you. It’s easy because he’s such a freak, to begin with. That’s old-school fortune-telling con-artist bullshit. The con artist says something spooky as hell to work the mark, then they’ll believe whatever they say right after that.”

  Kathy frowned. “I don’t think he’s lying.”

  “So what?” Tyler shrugged. “He’s probably not, but it’s a useless warning. This is LA. There’s always something coming, sweetheart.”

  Sweetheart? What the fuck?

  Sure, Tyler had a good fifteen years or so on her, but there was shit that she just wouldn’t stand for.

  Kathy’s face twitched. “First of all, don’t call me sweetheart again or I’ll tell Maria ab
out those sites you’ve been visiting on your computer.”

  Tyler grimaced. “What sites?”

  “You let your guard down too much when you’re in the Black Sun, Tyler.”

  He held up his hands. “Okay, okay, you win.”

  Her face smoothed out. “Second, it’s my time to waste, right?”

  Tyler shrugged. “Sure. Your time to waste, but I’m telling you, he’s just fucking with you.” He pointed to a table in the corner. “For now, get them some new beers.”

  The dog barked as James surveyed the doggie training course he’d set up alongside the main obstacle course at Camp Brownstone. A series of ramps, tires, and cones lay before him.

  James nodded, satisfied, and set a plate with a steak at the end of the course.

  Doesn’t hurt to train the dog a little. Gets him some exercise.

  Trey and several of the other men lined the course, curious looks on their faces.

  “The Brownstone dog, huh?” Trey rubbed his chin. “We gonna take him on jobs?”

  James grunted. “Don’t know. Not anytime soon, but might eventually be nice to have a little extra help searching for shit. He found drugs on that guy, after all.”

  Lachlan snickered. “Your dog ain’t gonna do this course for that steak at the end.”

  The dog barked and wagged his tail happily.

  Trey smiled at the dog. “Need to give our furry brother a name.”

  “Fido,” Lachlan called.

  Trey snorted and shook his head. “I should beat your ass for that weak-ass name.”

  James walked toward the start of the course and the dog.

  “Cat,” Max suggested. “It’s all unexpected and shit.”

  James grunted, and Trey rolled his eyes.

  Isaiah slammed a fist into his palm. “Ass-kicker McGruff Brownstone.”

  The men all laughed.