The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Boxed Set One (Books 1-3): Feared By Hell, Rejected By Heaven, Eye For An Eye (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Boxed Sets)

by Michael Anderle

  Shay eyed Brownstone as he lugged his two huge cases. One of them was obviously a go-case filled with weapons and other dangerous implements of his trade. She’d made her own arrangements to get her equipment past security and customs, and it didn’t involve strolling to the front desk with contraband.

  She couldn’t decide if that meant Brownstone was brave or stupid. Given everything she knew about him, she figured it was a little Column A and some Column B.

  Their last flight in and out of country had been on chartered planes so it hadn’t been as big of an issue, but this time the idiot was going to get them arrested before they even left the country.

  She couldn’t risk a fight in an airport.

  Shay frowned. For that matter, that sort of risk didn’t seem like Brownstone. The guy might be cavalier about his own safety, but she’d never seen him put innocent people in danger. She was missing something, and that realization only irritated her more.

  Brownstone nodded to the woman working the desk and placed his hand on the palm scanner on the counter.

  She looked down at her computer and up at him. “Hello, Mr. Brownstone. I’m sorry to have to ask you to do this, but I’m going to need you to show me additional proof of your level-six status. Federal regulations, you know.” She gave him a sheepish smile, as if she expected him to explode.

  “No problem.”

  The bounty hunter reached into his jacket and pulled out a chip-embedded card with his picture on it, which he handed to the woman. She quickly typed something into the computer in front of her and slid the card into a reader to the side of her computer.

  James’ movement revealed a shoulder holster, so he likely had a case filled with guns—several of which probably weren’t legal—and was getting ready to march through airport security with a loaded weapon.

  Fuck, Brownstone. How about a little more subtlety? Did you hit your head last night? Are you drunk?

  The woman glanced to her side. A police officer pulled away from the corner and headed their way.

  Shay swallowed and her gaze shot around the room, seeking exits not near any obvious police.

  The cop neither went for his gun or Taser nor pulled out his radio to request backup. Instead, he walked to the wrong desk and placed his hand on the palm scanner.

  “Please give the verbal verification for the record,” the woman requested.

  “Officer Tom Johns,” the cop said. “Verifying special transport exceptions for James Brownstone.” He rattled off the time and date, then nodded to the bounty hunter. “You going for work or pleasure?”

  “Work, though I do take a lot of pleasure in my work.”

  The cop chuckled. “Be careful down there, then. You get away from the cities and things can get real dicey.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Brownstone nodded, and the cop strolled away.

  Another airline employee, a large man, came over to grab Brownstone’s suitcases. Rather than placing them on the conveyor running behind the desk, he opened a door and pulled them into a back room.

  “Well, don’t they treat you special?” Shay muttered under her breath.

  She shook her head at the spectacle and stepped up to the counter to finish checking in herself.

  And here I am just smuggling things the old-fashioned way.

  As they walked toward their boarding gate twenty minutes later, Shay’s curiosity finally won its battle against her desire not to show any weakness in front of Brownstone—especially since he’d basically been allowed to walk through the later security checkpoint without even going through the metal detector.

  “What was all that about?” Shay asked. “They just let you bring all that stuff on, no questions asked? Not to mention…” She gestured toward the general location of his now-concealed holster.

  James shrugged. “You’ve been on the other side for too long. You forget it doesn’t have to be that way.”

  “Huh?”

  “The other side of the law. When you’re on the right side, a lot of allowances and exceptions are made to help you take out bad guys easier, especially when you’ve got an established track record. It also helps that we have a bunch of law enforcement treaties with Mexico, which is one of the reasons I like to stick close to home and not go wandering off to places like China where the rules are tighter.”

  Shay sighed. “I think I’ll stay with my own methods. I don’t want to be too far up cop butts. I’m a shady character, you know.” She grinned.

  “Suit yourself, but nothing you’ve been doing lately has helped the bad guys.”

  “Nor was it always strictly legal.”

  Brownstone chuckled. “Yeah, guess so.”

  They closed on their gate, and Shay took a deep breath. This job wouldn’t be like Peru. She’d have to deal with a lot of dangerous people before she got anywhere near the Green Dragon Crescent Blade.

  She glanced at Brownstone, unsure if he’d be an asset or a liability in the end. If she needed to kill every single asshole in Baja California Sur that was one thing, but the bounty hunter also had a way of attracting a lot of undue attention.

  Shay also didn’t like the idea of becoming too reliant on him. That path led to sloppiness. She’d spent years working without a partner; it made things less complicated. In the last few weeks, she’d involved herself in a lot of things she probably shouldn’t have.

  “Yeah!” a man shouted, jerking Shay out of her reflections.

  A group of college dude-bros in rather garish t-shirts that announced in pictorial form their preferences in women lingered near the gate. From the sound of it, the men were already drunk.

  “Cabo, bro!” yelled one of them. “Fuck, yeah!”

  “Yeah, dude,” another agreed, slapping him on the back. “This is gonna be so badass.”

  The gate attendant rolled her eyes, as did Shay. Just what Mexico needed: imported dude-bros.

  After grabbing their luggage, Shay and James picked up their rental truck and headed to their hotel, a nice if low-key place Shay had stayed at before. The pair exchanged few words until they stood in her hotel room.

  “Yours is across the way,” Shay told him, handing him a keycard. She then fished a small silver cylinder from her luggage.

  “Frequency scanner?”

  “Yeah.”

  James eyed the room. “Had trouble here with bugs?”

  Shay shook her head. “Nope, but never hurts to be too careful, especially with all the friends I might have made recently helping you out.” She winked.

  James slapped one of this suitcases on the bed and opened it. He pulled a shabby coat out of his luggage, a long ugly brown puffy-sleeved mess.

  “Where did you buy that?” Shay asked, eyeing the coat with disdain. “The thrift store?”

  “Yeah, actually. Got a good deal on it.”

  Shay sighed. “And here I thought you had good fashion sense, though I guess with what I’ve seen you wear before, I shouldn’t have been surprised at this point.”

  The bounty hunter stared at her for a moment. “Huh?” He shrugged, a bit confused by her weird statement about fashion sense.

  James opened the case and started pulling out pistol and knife holsters, along with several different pistols, with a marked preference for .45-caliber fare.

  “You’re not gonna do this in your room?” Shay wondered.

  “I want to be ready right away.”

  “And one gun isn’t enough?”

  James grinned. “No.”

  The next few minutes involved a lot of clicking and slapping as the bounty hunter loaded magazines into his weapons and slipped them into different holsters, along with extra magazines for his weapons. Knives, both stabbing and throwing, followed.

  “That’s a lot of guns,” Shay exclaimed. “I’m impressed—and not much impresses me about guns—but we’re not raiding the cartel, Brownstone. You remember that, right?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Also, these
guys might be scum, but they haven’t done shit to you as far as I know. I thought you liked to keep it to bounties or revenge.”

  James nodded. “I do, and they haven’t messed with me.”

  “Then what’s with the arsenal?”

  “Finding a new gun is more complicated than just pulling a new one off you. Simple enough. And this isn’t my home turf, so I want to be prepared.”

  Shay snickered. “Okay, makes sense, I guess. Just don’t go causing unnecessary trouble for me.”

  “Sure. I won’t go causing any unnecessary trouble.”

  By the time the bounty hunter finished arming up, he carried enough pistols, knives, and ammo to lay waste to hundreds of people if necessary. People said that luck was where opportunity met preparation, and he was ready for some damn good luck.

  It wasn’t like he was going all-out. He hadn’t bothered to bring any grenades, let alone the necklace.

  James grabbed a small protected metal case and slid it into one of his magazine slots.

  “What’s that?” Shay asked.

  “Two potions, healing and energy. Just in case.”

  “Energy?” The field archaeologist’s gaze lingered on the case. “Does that make you bulletproof?”

  A heavy question lingered in Shay’s eyes. She’d seen him take direct shots during the Harriken battle and not get hurt. She’d also seen the necklace bond with him. The woman’s sharp mind couldn’t have failed to put some of the pieces together.

  James appreciated that she hadn’t asked too many questions. They’d worked together enough that he trusted her, but that didn’t mean he was ready to bare his soul to her. Until he better understood the necklace, he wasn’t going to talk to anyone about it.

  “No,” James admitted. “None of the stuff I brought makes me bulletproof. I’m planning to shoot guys before they shoot me.”

  “Always a good strategy.”

  “Do you have any bounties you’re interested in yet?”

  James shook his head. “Waiting for you to get your shit figured out before I go after anyone.”

  With his load-out complete, James pulled on the jacket.

  Shay laughed. “You look like a complete doofus in that jacket, Brownstone. I think I get your real strategy now. You’re going to wait until the other guys fall down laughing, then you’ll shoot them.” She made a face of mock disgust. “Shooting people while they are laughing, Brownstone? That’s cold.”

  James glanced down at a tear in one of the sleeves and shrugged. “But you can’t see any of the holsters, can you?”

  She looked him over. “No, I guess I can’t.”

  He pursed his lips and finished with a shrug. “Then looks can be deceiving.”

  Shay shook her head. “Nope. Just because you’re a dangerous doofus doesn’t change the fact you look like a doofus.”

  James grunted.

  13

  Shay cruised along a worn and cracked road in a Forerunner. Brownstone sat in the passenger seat, idly watching the city pass by through the window, not saying a word.

  She wondered what was going through the man’s head. Brownstone didn’t seem to get nervous about danger, and unlike their last job together, they didn’t have any reports that suggested anyone else was closing in on the Green Dragon Crescent Blade. The whole job should be a nice in-and-out grab, assuming there were no clever deathtraps or magical guardians.

  Shay could have easily carried out the whole job without the man, but she’d understood that the Professor wanted him to come along. She didn’t know if that meant Smite-Williams didn’t trust her yet or not, but that didn’t bother her because she didn’t fully trust him either.

  Her attention returned to James. She didn’t want to be alone with her own thoughts.

  “You’re a very incurious man, James Brownstone,” the field archaeologist remarked. “Surprisingly so.”

  He looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “We show up in Mexico, and I grab a truck. Then I take us to get a totally different vehicle, and you don’t even ask why.”

  “That’s not being incurious. I’m just not wasting time.”

  “Oh?”

  Brownstone shrugged a single shoulder and returned to looking outside. “I don’t bother worrying about unimportant shit that I know other people can handle. We’ve worked together, both on your job and on mine, if you want to call it that. You’re not a dipshit, so I trust you.”

  Shay shook her head. Brownstone still managed to agitate her even when he was complimenting her. It was like most of her barbs bounced right off the man. That she wasn’t in control both disturbed and thrilled her.

  “Still no questions?” She just wanted him to play along. “At least give me a little insight into your thought process.”

  “Why?”

  Shay chuckled. “Because I’m trying to figure out what makes you tick, Brownstone.”

  “I’m guessing you needed this for some rough terrain. It’s not exactly a fucking mystery. It’s not like you swapped out the truck for an amphibious limo or a motorcycle.”

  Shay snickered. “Yeah. Anyway, I’ve got the likely location of the artifact—some hidden caves in a small mountain range up north.”

  “We’re not exactly deep in the Amazon here. How come no one has ever found the artifact before?”

  “Glad you asked.” Shay did enjoy showing off, mentally or physically. “The caves were discovered initially during a satellite thermal survey, but weren’t there when they tried to image the area again in later surveys. It was chalked up to bad data. Later information suggests the caves are being cloaked with magic, and the satellite just got lucky that one time.” She sighed. “And if it gets lucky again, somebody else could end up finding it.”

  James frowned. “There’s magical cloaking? Doesn’t that mean someone’s still there?”

  “Nope. Or probably not. Just means some Taoist priests were very thorough back in the fifteenth century.” Shay glanced into her rearview mirror for a second. “Anyway, these are mountain caves, so the terrain might not be all that hospitable—hence the vehicle choice. But before we leave, I need to go hit up a local contact; someone who can put in a good word with us for one of the local gangs.”

  “Why do we need a good word with the local gang?”

  “Because too many damned people around here will kill you for a hundred bucks and a cheeseburger from the crappy McDonalds in Cabo San Lucas.” She rolled her eyes. “And the burgers there aren’t even that good. Don’t ever eat there, trust me. It’s like the people have no concept of what a burger’s supposed to taste like. Or are sourcing that meat from a strange Oriceran cow-like thing.”

  “So, what…you think these guys might take a shot at us, otherwise?” James grunted, but a hint of a smile appeared.

  “Something like that, but throw some money and a few polite words around and a lot of that goes away. As long as you know who to talk to—and I do.”

  “Not afraid of some local gangs. They want to come at me, they can learn the same lesson the Harriken in LA did.” A vicious grin appeared on his face. “It might be a nice little workout.”

  “No, no, no.” Shay groaned. She wanted to bounce her head off the steering wheel. “We need to keep our eye on the prize, Brownstone. Remember, half the point of this job is to get Smite-Williams to cough up something to you.”

  She wondered what artifact the Professor might be sending Brownstone’s way. The man already had access to enough magic to make him a deadly threat. She had a hard time seeing what else he might need, especially since he was a real hands-on ass-kicker.

  “Just sayin’. I can teach them the true meaning of fear,” James said, sounding far too enthusiastic about the idea.

  “I know you’re not afraid of them and all that, Brownstone, but we can’t level half this town without it causing trouble for both of us in the future. That makes things complicated…and you like things simple, right?”

  “Yes, I guess I do
.” The bounty hunter rubbed the back of his neck and looked away, like a little boy who’d been caught pissing on his mom’s flowers.

  “Good. Glad we’re on the same page. No blowing up the cartel or gangs while we’re here. We’re here to get the Green Dragon Crescent Blade and maybe score a bounty for you on the side. We good?”

  “Yeah, we’re good. Unless they piss me off.”

  Shay sighed.

  They arrived at their location ten minutes later: an old warehouse with dozens of rusted-out cars dotting the area. James spotted at least six armed men, none of whom seemed to know how to smile.

  Shay opened her door. “This won’t take long.”

  “You want backup, just in case your guys aren’t as polite as last time you dealt with them?”

  He understood that they didn’t want cartel or gang trouble, but he wasn’t going to shy away from a fight if someone else picked it, either.

  The woman laughed. “That’s nice of you, Brownstone, but I’ve been doing this without backup for a long time. No way I’m going to let myself get too used to having you around. No offense.”

  James shrugged. He wasn’t offended. He understood the advantages of working alone.

  Shay closed the door and walked toward two gang sentries armed with AKs. A short conversation followed, and one of them men gestured with his gun toward a warehouse door. She disappeared inside.

  All these assholes think they have strength in numbers. It makes them stupid and easy to take out.

  James tried to entertain himself by evaluating the security situation. He’d spotted four more guards roaming the grounds, along with a rooftop sniper.

  The warehouse and the surrounding buildings could hide a lot of men, so the small number of gang members outside didn’t convince him the group couldn’t field a lot more bodies.

  His examination convinced him that the rusted-out cars probably weren’t left over from better days, when the location had served as a part of the normal economy. The positioning of the wrecks was too careful, and the density was too high. They were really barricades and checkpoints designed to slow down attackers.