The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3

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The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3 Page 2

by Michael Anderle


  It was hard enough to understand what he was saying even without the pain overwhelming her concentration. She could only respond with sobs. They continued down twisting hallway after twisting hallway. Additional explosions rocked the building. Smoke choked the air.

  The moments stretched to eternity, the pain killing even her ability to cry before her father arrived at a new smaller hangar. A single bright-silver triangular ship was parked there, shorter and thinner than any of the shuttles.

  Burning debris and chunks of metal and crystal littered the hangar. Her father ran up to the ship and tapped his AllBand. The side of the ship slid open, revealing a single reclined seat.

  “I’m sorry. This is going to hurt.” Her father shoved her into the seat, jarring her arm.

  She screamed.

  His face a grim mask, her father ran his finger down a panel on the side of her seat. A dark harness extended from the four corners of the seat and secured her.

  He leaned in to kiss her forehead. “I love you, Aiyn, and I’m sorry, but when your mother died, I promised her that I’d never let anything happen to you, no matter what the cost.”

  She stared at him, her vision clouded by her tears and mind addled by the pain.

  Her father stepped back, and the side of the ship slid closed. A glowing holographic display lit up the cockpit.

  “Initiating automated launch protocol,” a soft female voice announced.

  “Father,” Aiyn cried before the pain and darkness overwhelmed her.

  With a groan, Aiyn’s eyes fluttered open. She gasped. A helmeted alien with four legs and two arms stood over her, his dark carapace gleaming almost like metal. Her heart rate kicked up, and a few seconds passed before she realized it wasn’t a monster from the spaceport but an Alliance race, a Techain.

  She’d never seen one of their kind in person before. The universal Alliance symbol for doctor decorated a white band around one of his arms.

  The Techain tilted his head, the thick gasses inside his breather helmet hiding most of his face except for the dull red of his many eyes. He spoke, and the clicks and buzzes of his native language were translated by his helmet with a slight delay.

  “You are safe now, child. You are on an Alliance cruiser far away from the Vax.”

  “Vax?” Aiyn croaked.

  “The race that attacked your planet.” The alien tilted his head back and forth several times, a few untranslated buzzes and clicks accompanying the motion. “We detected an automated distress signal from your ship when we arrived in-system, along with a signal requesting initiation of remote control. We were surprised to find a child inside. Your vessel was intended for diplomatic couriers.”

  Aiyn didn’t understand everything the insectoid doctor had said, but she understood that her father had saved her.

  “My father works at the spaceport. He fixes ships.” Aiyn sat up and rotated her arm. The pain was gone. “Like you fixed my arm. Thank you.”

  “It is my duty.”

  Aiyn looked around. Several medical beds and tanks lined the narrow room. The tanks were empty, but her people filled the beds, most unconscious. Silver nanofoam covered their wounds. Small spherical drones buzzed around the room, stopping over patients for a few seconds before continuing.

  “My father is dead, isn’t he?” she whispered.

  The Techain inclined his head. “I will attempt to find you a priestess of your religion if you require assistance with grieving. I am sorry for your loss.”

  Aiyn only could muster a shallow nod, her body numb.

  The adult Aiyn opened her eyes and wiped away a few tears. She fed the memory as much and often as she could.

  Never forgive. Never forget.

  She wanted to remember every sound, every sight, every smell. She needed to remember.

  She laid her head on the bed and stared at her ceiling. “No more victims. No more orphans. I’ll kill you, you Vax bastard, even if I have to strangle you myself.”

  2

  James stepped out of his F-350. The night air nipped at him, not freezing, but cold enough for Los Angeles. He was wearing a jacket, and not even to carry extra weapons and ammo. December was finally making itself known.

  Could be worse. Could be in Canada. Too much damned snow.

  There were many things to love and hate about LA, but one strong point in the city’s favor was freedom from dreaded snow. The sky dandruff did nothing but make life complicated, whether it was driving or walking—let alone barbecuing. Every time a Christmas song extolled the virtues of snow and winter wonderlands, James understood a little bit better why the Grinch might be right.

  Someday Shay’s gonna make me go to Antarctica. Shit.

  Thomas barked from the back seat, pulling James out of his weather-related reflection. The dog barked a few more times, his tail thumping against the leather. James grunted and nodded to the ground. The dog jumped out of the truck and padded over to his master’s side.

  James grabbed a leash from the seat and connected it to the dog’s collar. Thomas obeyed his commands without question and didn’t need the leash, but James understood how a large tattooed man with a decent-sized dog could make normal people nervous. Some old woman had called the police on him last time he went to the pet store to buy dog food, so he’d switched stores.

  Hope nothing happens this time.

  Buying his dog food online didn’t appeal to him. He wanted to make sure his dog got a chance to look at the bag and sniff it a little. Thomas might not be picky, but he should at least have some input about what was going into his body.

  James and Thomas walked to the front of the pet store. The glass doors slid open, and they entered the brightly lit building. Dozens of shelf-filled aisles lay in carefully arranged rows from the front to the back of the store. A small room with glass walls was to his right, a large PET GROOMING CENTER sign hanging on the door, although no groomers or pets were inside.

  Thomas didn’t need the service anytime soon. James had that taken care of a few days after finally finding the dog.

  “Welcome, sir!” a cheerful redhead in a blue uniform called from the front register. “Maggie,” according to her nametag. “Do you need help finding anything?”

  He shook his head. “Nah, we’re good. Come on, Thomas.”

  Maggie smiled at the dog. “Such a nice boy.”

  Thomas barked.

  James led the dog down the aisles until he arrived at the dog section. He released the leash and squatted to inspect the various brands of dog food with a frown. His online research had pointed to different brands with different strengths. With Leeroy, he’d never worried that much, but with this dog, he worried about making sure he was doing his best to take care of him. Thomas didn’t seem to be picky, but it wasn’t like a dog could comment on nutrition.

  “This one got good reviews.” James leaned forward to peer at a large blue bag featuring a happy-looking Golden Retriever. “But I don’t know if there’s enough protein in there for you.” He nodded to the bag. “Dogs need protein. Shit, humans need protein.”

  Thomas padded over to the bag and sniffed. He tilted his head and looked up at James, a question in his eyes.

  “You’d probably eat cat food if I gave it to you. I’m trying to give you better choices here. Work with me.” James grunted and continued his perusal of dog food for a few minutes before settling on the first bag, protein concerns aside.

  He lifted the bag and stepped out of the aisle, leash in his other hand. After a moment of hesitation, he continued deeper into the store and away from the dog supplies. “Might as well check out some other shit while I’m here.”

  James approached a wall of terrariums, each containing a different variety of reptile or amphibian: bearded dragons, turtles, chameleons, geckos, and iguanas. The animals scampered in their glass enclosures, some fleeing, some watching him. A tranquil turtle sat staring through the glass at nothing in particular.

  “Must be nice to not care about anything.” James
leaned forward to stare the turtle down. The animal didn’t react. “So I’ve got you, Thomas. Should I get another new pet? Change-my-life kind of shit?”

  Thomas barked once. James wasn’t sure if that was agreement or objection.

  James glanced at a different terrarium as a gecko skittered back and forth behind its glass. No one had ever said lizards were man’s best friend.

  With a shake of his head, he stepped away from the terrariums and turned the corner into a huge alcove filled with fish tanks. Colorful varieties of every type were represented, including glowing genetically engineered varieties and even an Oriceran species with oscillating patterns of light on the side.

  James moved from tank to tank, watching the fish swim.

  “How are these even a pet?” He grunted. “I mean, it’s right there in the name: pet. You don’t pet fish.” He frowned. “They are glorified decorations. I don’t need more decorations.”

  Thomas didn’t bark any commentary.

  “But maybe Shay would like some?” James rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah. That’s bullshit. She likes you okay, but she’s not big on pets. Yeah, no fish.”

  James led his dog away from the fish and down the avian aisle where bright birds stood on perches in glass display cases—mostly conures, parakeets, and cockatiels, nothing large. A small Oriceran species with four wings and blue eyes watched him, rigid as a statue. In contrast, the Earth birds tilted their heads, watching James with what he perceived as curiosity.

  “Birds are pretty smart, and more than decorations.” James shook his head. “Huh. Not decorations, but so damned small.” He could always go to a specialty store and buy a large parrot. “It’d be weird if my bird suddenly started cussing at me, and Shay would teach it to fuck with me, too. Probably have it talking trash about Jessie Rae’s.”

  James shook his head and looked down at Thomas. “No other pets. I think God planned for me to be a dog man.”

  Thomas barked.

  “Yeah, thought you’d agree. Maybe I can get you a brother someday.”

  The dog tilted his head and didn’t bark.

  James grunted. “What, jealous already?”

  Loud shouts came from the front of the door.

  He frowned. “Wonder what that’s about? Let’s pay for your food and get the hell out of here. Can’t believe people are starting shit at the pet store. Probably another old woman frowning at someone for having tattoos.”

  James led Thomas toward the front. Two lanky men in long coats stood at the front register, gesticulating wildly. Two bags of dried cat food were on the counter.

  “What the fuck?” one of the men shouted, gesturing to the bags. “It clearly says twenty percent off if you buy two bags, so why the hell is it full price?”

  James stared at the bag. “Huh. Didn’t even think about a cat,” he murmured. “Yeah, no way. Shay’s always bitching about Peyton’s cat.”

  Maggie offered a placating smile to the man, her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry, sir, but if you review the sign, you’ll see that promotion applies only to specific brands. If you want to go back and grab bags from the participating brands, I’ll be happy to give you a discount.”

  The man slapped his palm on the counter. Maggie winced and shrank back.

  A few lingering customers eyed the exchange with concern on their faces, but no one stepped forward to help her.

  “My cat doesn’t like those other brands,” the man growled. “She likes this fucking brand. A pet store employee is telling me to feed my beloved cat shit food she doesn’t like?”

  Maggie swallowed. “Sir, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Your behavior is passing into verbal abuse.”

  The two men exchanged looks and laughed.

  The first man sneered at her. “What did you say, bitch?”

  With the exception of James, the other customers ducked into the aisles. One kneeling man pulled out a phone and whispered into it. A staff door at the side opened, and an older man in glasses poked his head out before ducking back inside and closing the door.

  Fucking coward. It’s your employee.

  James let out a low growl. All he wanted to do was pay for his dog’s food. That should have been a straightforward task, but Cat Fancier and his friend had fucked his night up.

  Should I wait for the police? Probably five to ten minutes for a cop to get here. By then it’ll be too late.

  The thug leaned forward, a feral grin on his face. “I’m not fucking leaving, bitch. I’m offended by how you’ve disrespected my cat, and now you’re gonna pay.”

  James grunted and released Thomas’ leash. He walked toward the register. It was time to end this bullshit and get back home.

  The first man whipped out a pistol and pointed it at the employee. Her hands shot into the air.

  The second man pulled out a gun and spun, waving it around. “No one fucking move.”

  Several people screamed and dropped to the floor, their hands over their heads. James jaw’s tightened.

  Big fucking mistake, asshole. I just wanted to buy some dog food.

  “Fine, if you won’t give us a twenty percent discount,” the first thug explained, “we’ll take a hundred percent discount, bitch.”

  James snorted and advanced.

  Both men spun to face him, angry confusion on their faces. They looked him up and down, but no recognition dawned.

  “What’s so fucking funny, meathead?” the first thug shouted. “You trying to be a hero?”

  James nodded toward the register. “Who the fuck robs a pet store? She’s not going to have shit for actual cash in there, and you guys don’t look like you have the equipment for electronic transfers, so you’re going to steal a bunch of cat food? You’re risking going to prison over a twenty percent discount, dumb shit.”

  The thug pointed his gun directly at James’ head. “Keep talking and you die, motherfucker. Do you know who I am? Do you know how many people I’ve killed?” The thug narrowed his eyes.

  Thomas barked loudly at the thug. He crept forward, poised to lunge at the man threatening his master.

  The thug glared at the dog. “You stupid-ass furry piece of shit. I fucking hate dogs anyway.” He pointed his gun at Thomas. “Time to see if all dogs go to heaven.”

  James sprang forward. He grabbed the man’s arm and yanked it up so hard it popped out of its socket.

  The man yowled in pain, and his yowls turned to screams as James squeezed slowly. The muscles and tendons compressed under his grip. He released the man, and the thug’s gun fell.

  “The real question you should be asking, motherfucker,” James offered, the grinding machinery quality of his voice even more pronounced than usual, “is who I am and how many people I have fucking killed?”

  The other thug backed up, his eyes wide and his hands shaking, the gun along with them. “W-who the fuck are you, man?”

  “I’m James Brownstone, and I just wanted to buy some fucking dog food.” He grabbed the first thug again and tossed him at his friend.

  The groaning man collided with a thud, and both men fell to the ground. The second thug’s gun clattered to the tile and came to rest a yard away from his hand.

  James stalked forward, his eyes narrowed. “And you might have heard how I don’t like it when people hurt my dog.”

  The first thug lay on his side, groaning in pain. “Fucker. My hand. My arm.”

  “Because you didn’t actually hurt my dog you don’t die, asshole. But you need to learn proper motherfucking respect for man’s best friend.”

  The thug’s partner shook his head and sat up. He blinked a few times before scrambling for the gun, but James surged forward and introduced his boot to the man’s chest. The thug flew back and smashed through the window, the shattered glass raining down around him.

  Thomas barked and wagged his tail.

  We both like a good ass-kicking, huh?

  James rounded on the first man, knelt, and slammed a fist into the thug�
�s face. The thug’s head snapped back, smacking against the hard tile with an audible thud, and he slumped, unconscious.

  Maggie gaped at James, wide-eyed.

  After taking a deep breath, he headed to the counter and set down the dog food bag. “You okay?”

  She nodded quickly. “Y-yes, sir.”

  James grunted. “Add a few thousand for the window. If it costs more than that to fix it, let me know. Just call the Brownstone Agency and tell my administrative assistant Charlyce.”

  “Okay, sir.” Maggie blinked a few times. “But I’m going to have to ask my manager how to enter that into the register.”

  3

  James stepped out of the garage into the hallway. Thomas rushed into the living room to claim his preferred spot on the floor while his owner pressed his phone to his ear.

  “Did you really need to throw them through a window, James?” asked Sergeant Mack on the other end, his voice exasperated.

  James grunted. “I’ll pay for all the damages.”

  “Okay, the staff seem grateful for your intervention and your willingness to pay for everything, but you can’t go busting up normal places even if they threaten your dog or pull guns on you. You could have just disabled them. You have to show restraint.”

  “I did show restraint. I didn’t kill them. Didn’t even come close.” James frowned.

  He hadn’t even broken the first guy’s arm. That had been saintly restraint. Sure, Father McCartney would probably still caution him about wrath during confession, but his soul was a work in progress.

  Sergeant Mack chuckled. “There is that. Anyway, I’ll handle the paperwork on the police end, but just keep what I said in mind. Even with your reputation, there’s only so much we can keep out of the press.”

 

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