The whirring hum of drones filled the air.
Time to blow some shit up.
The amulet whispered in the back of James’ mind, restrained, quiet, and measured.
James readied a frag grenade and took a few deep breaths. A hundred feet up a squadron of drones flew in formation, then six broke off from their fellows to dive toward the trucks. The machine guns roared to life, but the cartel gunners realized their mistake too late.
Three explosions engulfed trucks, blasting them off the ground and showering the area with metal and plastic. The gunners on the other three managed to clip the closing drones but fared no better as falling explosives hit their vehicles.
The deadly threat of the six machine guns had been reduced to burning bodies, rubber, and metal.
Sucks to be you guys. Bet you thought you were badasses up there with the big guns, huh?
A series of massive explosions ripped through the resort’s buildings. Men screamed, and clouds of fire, dirt, and cement shot into the sky. The defenders had barely finished processing what happened when another series of explosions rocked the area.
James launched himself from his cover and threw grenades like fastballs at clusters of cartel enforcers and foot soldiers. Still recovering from the earlier blasts, they didn’t even have time to open their mouths before they collapsed in a mass of blood.
The remaining explosives drones slammed into several buildings in the resort and the loud report of the .50 caliber sniper rifle followed, mixing with the crackle of the fires all over the area.
The whispers in James’ mind remained quiet and controlled. Easy to ignore.
James jogged toward the front gate at a leisurely pace. He blasted away with the .45 and finished off a dozen stunned men before they could manage more than a few shots at him.
Surviving men poured out of burning buildings and rushed toward James. They unloaded on him with their rifles and pistols, their bullets stinging but not piercing his flesh. He’d need a new coat when this was all over.
Like a tattooed Angel of Death, the bounty hunter moved with grim determination, firing a gun until empty and then reloading. His victims groaned and cried out as they fell, one after another.
How long have you bastards bled this country? How many lives have you fucked up, assholes?
Shay’s sniper rifle continued to crack in the distance. James had no idea if he could take a sniper rifle round to the head, but the explosives and the tomb raider’s overwatch would handle that in the first phase of the plan.
Thick clouds of smoke darkened the skies.
Three trucks screeched to a halt in the debris-covered parking lot. Men armed with AKs filled the back. James ignored them and continued advancing on the main hotel building.
An RPG slammed into the first truck, and a few seconds later another destroyed the second. Half of the men managed to make it off the third before Shay’s next attack enveloped them in hellfire.
If she’s using the RPG, all the snipers are taken care of.
James picked up the pace as he headed toward the building at the center of the resort. Killing enforcers bled the cartel, but this was supposed to be a decapitation attack. They needed to kill someone more important than random Señor Juan Sicario.
They might have gotten lucky with some of their explosives, but they lacked the power to bring down the buildings—which meant they’d still need to confirm their kills.
The bounty hunter closed on the hotel lobby. RPG warheads continued to hiss from afar and slam into buildings around the resort, creating a torrent of glass, wood, and metal raining down.
“She should save some of that shit,” James muttered. “Might have another truck we need to blow up.”
A man with an ax spun from behind a cement pillar and screamed, and James dropped him with a shot between the eyes. Another popped up and fired a burst from a submachine gun.
James grunted and shot the man twice in the chest. A few cuts marred his chest, but most of his wounds could be handled with a Band-Aid. Not bad, considering that the coordinated attack had already killed hundreds of cartel men.
Shit. I should try to keep it to one shot per guy. Gonna have to start borrowing weapons again before I’m done.
The amulet continued to whisper in the back of his mind, but there was no urgency to the tone or texture. Maybe it was satisfied, or it didn’t feel there was any danger.
“You like this shit, huh?”
A line of twenty enforcers stood inside the double glass doors that opened into the hotel lobby. James leapt to the side as they opened with automatic rifles. Shards of glass shot through the air and sliced his clothes, but not his skin.
Better not press my luck. At least they’ve made it easy to clear them out.
James returned the favor with a couple of grenades. The screams cut out seconds later, and the bounty hunter spun back toward the now-shattered doorway. A few survivors moaned softly, bleeding out from their wounds.
He needed the ammo, so he left them to die.
Glass crunched under James’ boots and fire alarms wailed as he jogged toward the stairwell. Between the drone explosives, the planted explosives, and the RPG rounds, the fire escapes and electrical power were neutralized. If the higher-ups wanted to escape, they’d have to hoof it down the stairs.
Okay, Shay. Hurry and get here for the next part of the plan.
22
The stairwell door flew open and cartel enforcers poured out of it, blasting at the bounty hunter. James calmly put round after round into their heads. He ignored the sting of the bullets and the whispers of his amulet.
He could be dodging more. Hell, he probably should. The amulet protected him, but it wasn’t like it kept him from all damage. He wanted to test it, though, to see how far his alien ass-kicking power could go when he just didn’t give a fuck about being careful.
Unlock it. That’s what Shay had said. He’d barely made use of some of its power already. The armor was simple and easy to understand. What else could it do besides enhancing his telekinesis?
He waved his left hand and two enforcers’ guns dropped to the ground. He shot the unarmed men.
Would it be easier to use it more?
More men surged out of the stairwell, and James had to credit their bravery. The survivors kept charging and firing at him until nobody was left alive. The heavy footsteps and shouts of more men echoed from above.
The deafening alarm mixed with the thundering gunshots drowned out the screams of the dying men.
The building groaned, and the acrid stench of smoke filled the air.
Fuck. Why do this the hard way when I can do it the easy way? Fuck the plan. I’ve got a better one.
The raid wasn’t about style. It was about killing lots and lots of motherfuckers, and the building was on fire in several places.
No firefighters were going to roll into a war zone, especially when they’d been warned who was responsible for it.
James rushed outside, picked up the ax from the man he’d killed earlier, and used it to jam the stairwell door. With all the fires eating the building and the stairwell blocked, none of the cartel’s men left inside would survive.
“Yeah, that should do it.” The bounty hunter dusted his hands together and nodded to himself, satisfied.
The new tactic also saved James the trouble of hoofing it up multiple flights of stairs in a burning building that might collapse halfway through his shooting spree. This way, he’d just need to wait outside in case any cartel members made it through the door. More boring, but also more ammo-efficient.
A vehicle screeched to a stop outside and James rushed out of the lobby, his gun at the ready. He waited for an explosion that never came. Shay must have been out of rounds.
But the new arrival wasn’t a truck filled with cartel reinforcements. It was Shay behind the wheel of the 4Runner.
She stuck her head out the window and honked the horn. “Get your ass in here, Brownstone.”
Ja
mes sprinted to the passenger door and hopped inside the vehicle.
Shay peeled out before the bounty hunter had even closed the door. “Those fuckers played us, and they almost got away with that shit.” She slammed a fist on the steering wheel. “I guess we should have planned on them having no balls.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” He nodded toward the window. “We’ve been dropping the fucking boom here. I’ve got the stairwell sealed and was just going wait and clean up. Why are we leaving early?”
“We’ve been killing a lot of guys, but not the top guys. The fucking pussies are running. I spotted four trucks booking out the back. It’s the fucking cartel leadership.”
James grunted. “You sure they aren’t just carrying some enforcers who decided they didn’t want to die?”
It might be brave to stand and fight after hundreds of men died around you, but it could also be considered stupid. James wouldn’t blame any cartel enforcer who broke and ran. If the Harriken had learned that lesson earlier they might still exist.
Shay shook her head. “Nope, it’s the big boys. I spotted the head of the cartel in the passenger seat of one of the trucks and one of the top lieutenants in another.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. I nailed one with the RPG, but there are still three left. I think the assholes must have been spooked by your threat call. They distracted us with the peons while they ran. Shit, I don’t even know if their own men knew about the plan.”
“Yeah, I don’t think they would have stood and fought like that if they thought the big guys were running.”
Shay frowned. “Maybe we shouldn’t have had you call.”
“Guess there is such a thing as too badass a reputation.” James shrugged.
“I’m guessing that’s why we didn’t run into any magical assholes. I know they have a few nasty witches and wizards working for them. I was half-worried they were going to zap my ass with a fireball while I was sniping.”
“Any of those witches and wizards immune to C4?”
“Probably not.”
“Problem solved, then. They probably bit the big one during the explosions. If they hadn’t, they would have put a fight.”
Shay chuckled. “On that note, look in the back.”
The RPG and a box of warheads sat in the back, but there were only four rounds left. Shay’d had all the fun.
The 4Runner roared through the carnage zone. Bodies lay all over, and hungry fires now consumed half the area. The flames would finish what James and Shay started.
Shay whipped between the gates. The RPG rolled in the seat as she took a hard turn. The vehicle now straightened, she pressed the accelerator to the floor, her eyes narrowed.
“Not letting those fuckers get away.”
They barreled down the road. Three trucks glinted in the distance.
James grabbed the RPG from the back and loaded it, an awkward experience in the cramped quarters of the vehicle.
“We need to get them before they hit the city. We stop dropping lead and grenades there, the military’s gonna show up.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it’d make for great TV to have the Mexican military in some huge gun battle with James Brownstone.”
The bounty hunter frowned.
Shay let out a dark chuckle. “Don’t worry. You just get ready to shoot. I’ll get us close to them and we’ll finish this shit.”
A couple of minutes ticked away as the 4Runner closed on the three trucks. Shay gritted her teeth and kept both hands on the wheel. One small mistake and she might lose control of the vehicle. They probably wouldn’t get another chance to take down the Nuevo Gulf Cartel like this.
The trucks drew closer, and James smiled to himself. He didn’t get to play with things like RPGs and rocket launchers nearly enough. They were fun.
James rolled down the window and leaned out. The air whipped past him as he aimed the shaking weapon. The bumpy road denied him a clear shot, but an upcoming curve in the road gave him a better opportunity.
“Fuck it.” He pulled the trigger.
The round launched, flying not toward the back vehicle, but the front of the convoy. The projectile slammed into the truck. The explosion knocked it onto its side.
Shay hit the brakes, the tires of the 4Runner squealing in complaint.
The driver of the second truck tried to make a hard left to avoid a collision but ended up flipping the vehicle for his trouble. The third truck slammed on its brakes and managed to avoid slamming into either of the other two.
It was still a fatal mistake, since it gave James time to reload and send an RPG into the vehicle. He repeated the process, then grabbed the last round. With a satisfying hiss, it zoomed away and blasted the wreckage a few feet into the air.
“Just making sure.”
Shay snickered.
James dropped the RPG into the back.
They watched the burning wreckage for a moment, waiting for any enemies to crawl out and return fire. James half-expected some statue bastard in a suit to pop up and start mocking him for thinking he could win with a few explosive warheads.
Shay and James hopped out of the 4Runner, their pistols at the ready, but the weapons proved unnecessary. There wasn’t a single man left alive. Hell, there wasn’t a single man left recognizable.
The tomb raider laughed. “I don’t know if that counts as overkill or underkill.”
“As long as they’re dead, it doesn’t matter.” James shrugged. “You know, the bastards might have had a better chance if they hadn’t run. Made it easier for us in the end.”
“Huh. So, we’ve done it. We’ve killed the leadership of the Nuevo Gulf Cartel and their top muscle. Fuck.”
“Yeah. The cartel won’t last long now. Maybe the survivors can start a new gang with the survivors of the Harriken.”
Shay stared at one of the burning trucks. “Who knows? I heard the Harriken were founded by a survivor of a Yakuza family that got wiped out by some magic chick.”
James grunted. “Then they should have fucking learned their lesson, just like these assholes.”
“Thank you for your business, sir.” The rental agent smiled from behind the counter.
The 4Runner didn’t even have a chip in the paint. The rental company had won their gamble as far as the insurance went.
For James, the whole raid had been far cheaper than his last few jaunts, considering they’d mostly used Shay’s explosives.
He grinned to himself as he stepped away from the counter and passed through the thick crowds toward Shay, who was leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. There was a pensive expression on her face.
He wasn’t looking forward to getting on another plane again so soon, but Shay had never acted like she cared before. Something else must have been wrong. He expected her to be happier after taking down the people who had forced her to fake her own death.
The bounty hunter eyed her, not yet willing to face a woman he didn’t always understand. “Ready to head back to LA?”
“No.”
“No?”
Shay nodded. “You’re gonna head back to LA, but I need to make a side trip to Europe.”
“Europe? Another tomb raid?”
“Nope.” Shay peeled off the wall, and the pair joined the dense flow of people in the airport. “I didn’t mention it earlier, but Peyton sent me a text. It turns out that not everyone important was at the resort.” She frowned. “Two of the top guys are still on the loose.”
“Then let’s go find them and finish what we started. Not like I’ve got better shit to do than moving stuff into my house.”
“They aren’t in Mexico.” Shay shrugged. “They are in Europe.” She stopped and nodded toward the long lines snaking in front of the ticket counters. “I need to book a flight and head over there. If I don’t finish off everyone in the top leadership the cartel could reorganize and survive, and that’d make what we did entertaining but pointless.”
James grunted. “Make it a flight
for two.”
“And hear you bitch the entire time over because your happy ass has to be on a long flight? No, thanks. It’s a lot longer flight from Mexico to Europe than Mexico to LA. No, I’ve got this. I can handle a couple of assholes.” She grinned. “Tracking down and dealing with people this way, especially in exotic foreign countries—that shit is definitely much more in my wheelhouse than yours.”
“I can still help.”
“Nope. If anything, you’ll get in my way. You don’t have contacts in foreign countries, Brownstone. The Japanese shit only worked out because of who you were going after. If you go all…Brownstone somewhere else, it might just end up with you arrested.”
James grunted. “You don’t know that.”
Shay placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look, thanks for your help during the big show, but it’s better this way. Closure and all that shit. You need to get back to LA and start getting your house set up before someone blows it up again.”
“They better fucking not,” the bounty hunter growled.
Shay winked. “I think most people have figured out why that would be a dumbass mistake at this point, but better safe than sorry.” She stepped back and lowered her hand. “You should get going. Thank you for giving me my life back. Still not sure if I want it, but at least now I have the choice.”
The tomb raider walked away and joined the Lufthansa line.
James continued toward Security. Shay was right. She could handle a few assholes, especially douches who were now trying to hide like roaches after the destruction the pair had delivered to their cartel.
If he wanted to help her, the best thing he could do was clean up the AET mess before she returned.
Guess I still have some shit to do.
23
The next evening James stepped into the Leanan Sídhe, acid gurgling in his stomach. The Professor had texted him, asking him to stop by and offer a few sample limericks as proof of his commitment to paying his debt.
James had hoped that getting the map might distract the Professor, but the man was obsessed with his damned limericks.
She Is The Widow Maker: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 5) Page 17