The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3

by Michael Anderle

  The yellow chyron at the bottom cut straight to what she cared about: ERIN NORTH, INTERNATIONAL REFUGEE ADVOCATE, KILLED IN PLANE CRASH.

  In the video, dozens of firefighters stood around the smoldering wreck of a small private jet on a runway. A reporter stood behind the line of police keeping curious onlookers at bay. Several ambulances were parked off to the side, but their open backs revealed no patients.

  The image shifted to an overhead view from a circling drone. Pieces of the jet were scattered up and down the runway.

  “Again, we’re having trouble confirming all the details,” explained the reporter in voiceover, “but we can confirm at this time that a private jet carrying Erin North, CEO of the Global Empathy Foundation, crashed after an apparent engine failure while landing at Chicago O’Hare. Witnesses have reported that the plane seemed to be out of control and unpowered when it fell from the sky, and we’ve received initial reports that air traffic controllers lost contact with the plane before the crash.

  “While no one on the ground was hurt and no other planes were damaged in the crash, the private jet was completely destroyed. As you can see, there are fragments all over the runway. First responders have already recovered at least two bodies from the plane and authorities are still combing the wreckage for more.”

  Shay narrowed her eyes.

  No fucking way. No fucking way in hell.

  She scrubbed a hand over her face.

  “Authorities have confirmed that Erin North was killed in the crash,” the reporter continued. “At this time, it’s presumed the other body is the pilot of the plane, but that hasn’t been verified. We have no information at this time about the cause of the crash, but Miss North has received numerous death threats from militant groups angry about her foundation’s work. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that this was a targeted assassination brought on by sabotage. Some have already suggested that the unpowered descent might be linked to a directed EMP attack.”

  The video shifted back to a ground-level view. Suited agents, both men and women, climbed out of black SUVs with US government plates.

  The camera shifted to the pale and harried-looking reporter. “I’ve just been informed that local PDA agents have arrived to perform the initial magical scans. Let me stress that at this time there is no indication that magic was involved in the destruction of this plane, but at the same time, we don’t know the cause. FBI and NTSB investigators are reported to be en route but have yet to arrive, to the best of our knowledge.”

  Shay paused the video and sighed. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck me.” She groaned loudly.

  James emerged from the bathroom in just his boxer shorts. His shirtless form displayed all his tattoos and abs that were probably illegal in twenty states. “Woah, slow down there, Shay. I haven’t even gotten to bed yet. Give me a minute.”

  She shook her head. “Not that I don’t want a little of that, but according to the news, Erin North just died in a plane crash. A rather mysterious and conveniently-timed plane crash.”

  James frowned and sat down on the bed. “Shit. Seriously?”

  “Yeah, seriously.” Shay set her phone down on the nightstand. “I don’t believe that for a second. Little Miss Nanoform gets taken out in a plane crash? Bullshit.”

  “Being an alien doesn’t mean she can’t die in a plane crash. If I didn’t have Whispy bonded to me, I couldn’t survive one, and I’m not sure I could even with him.” James shrugged and nodded toward the amulet, which lay on the nightstand on his side of the bed. “Not gonna try that shit out anytime soon.”

  Shay sighed. “The thing is, Peyton told me that things have gotten really quiet with North in the last few days. He used the words, ‘suspiciously quiet.’”

  James frowned. “Now that you mention it, Heather said something about that too. She thought maybe North was lying low for a while because she knew they were poking around.”

  “Exactly, but what better way to lie low than fake your death?” Shay snorted. “I should know; I’m a fucking expert on that shit.” She gritted her teeth. “Damn it. We pushed too hard and lost our window of opportunity. The bitch must have realized we figured it out and decided to disappear.”

  James eyed the amulet on the nightstand for a few seconds before returning his attention to Shay. “She’s pulling an Eyes, then. She’s afraid. That means she doesn’t think she can take me, not even if she has people she can hire, and the lance isn’t charged anymore. Her only choice was to fake her death and run away.”

  “Yeah.” Shay nodded. “I doubt some alien bitch is gonna figure out a way to force-feed an ancient Atlantean lance magical energy. The only thing is, now we can’t move on her quickly. I wanted to finish this shit and not have it hanging over our heads.”

  James shrugged and slipped under the covers. “If she’s running, I’m not worried. When she comes at me, we can try to talk to her and tell her about all this Vax shit and how I’m not gonna call any Vanguard assholes. If she doesn’t believe me, then we’ll do what we have to do. Not gonna worry about it now. Probably not gonna see her ass for a year, since she bothered to fake her own death.”

  “Other than Heather and Peyton, no one else knows about this Vax stuff, right?” Shay rolled on her side. “If the government assholes realized you are an alien it’d be bad enough, but if they realize you’re an alien supersoldier, they’re gonna lock you up in a dungeon and probe your ass for the next twenty years. I don’t want to have to kill everyone in the government to rescue you. It’ll be annoying and tedious.”

  James grunted. “Nobody else knows, but we’ll have to tell Alison eventually.”

  “I know, but she’s settling into school so well. It won’t hurt for her to live a few years without knowing about this shit. By then we’ll have taken care of all the loose ends anyway.” Shay sighed. “You know how she is. She’ll become obsessed with trying to protect you. Insist you use the wish or something.”

  “Yeah. It can wait.” James smiled, warmth all over his face.

  Shay blinked. “You’re smiling about this?”

  “Yeah. It’s been a good couple of weeks. Kicked a lot of ass, worked on a new sauce, helped you take down that piece of shit Durand, took out the Eyes, and I… Uh.” James chuckled. “What? You want me to bitch? I feel pretty good.” He shrugged.

  “No.” Shay rested on her elbow. “Look, I’ve tried to leave you alone to work out your shit, but I’m surprised you’re not more freaked about this Vax thing or finding out more about your parents.”

  James shrugged. “They did what they had to to help me, just like Father Thomas. I’m gonna keep doing what I’m doing to make their sacrifices worthwhile. Whispy might bitch, but he’s still working for me, so it doesn’t matter what he’s supposed to be doing or what he cares about. Just because I got a few new memories doesn’t change me from before I knew. I’m still James Brownstone, bounty hunter.”

  Shay smiled softly. “I stand by everything I said. I’ll fuck up anyone who comes at you, whatever their reason and whatever planet they’re from.”

  “Nah, it’ll be okay. After all, North was so scared of me she faked her own death.” James laid his head on the pillow and grunted. “I’m just gonna move on with my life unless Peyton or Heather find something special. Besides, I’ve got more important shit to worry about.”

  “More important than someone who wants to kill you?”

  James nodded. “Yeah, my future with you. I’m starting to get an idea about something fucking epic.”

  Shay’s brow lifted. “Really?”

  “The Cambodia job gave me some ideas.”

  She laughed. “A monster- and mercenary-infested tomb raid in the jungles of Cambodia gave you an idea about that?”

  James nodded.

  “Sometimes, James, you’re even weirder than usual.” Shay winked and smiled at him from her pillow. “But I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

  Aiyn sighed as she stared out the window of her new hom
e. The high condo provided a view of the sprawling city of Los Angeles. Some might find it pleasing, but staring at glass and concrete didn’t bring her any joy. The city lacked the elegance and beauty of her birth city.

  Not that it mattered. That was gone, reduced to dust by the Vax.

  The gorgeous view of the ocean from her old mansion had soothed her, but that mansion had belonged to her human identity of Erin North—an identity she’d been forced to discard for nothing.

  She inhaled deeply. Of all the miscalculations, she’d never expected Shay might use the lance.

  “Of course,” Aiyn muttered. “After I gave her the big speech about the danger it posed to the world and Durand potentially handing it over to the government, she would think nothing of it. I all but ordered her to use it.”

  Aiyn’s hands curled into fists. Shay’s and Brownstone’s cyberhounds had been sniffing too hard and too fast. She’d considered killing them, but she had no evidence they understood Brownstone’s true nature, or even that Shay Carson herself did.

  Some lines couldn’t be crossed. Not yet. Not until she had no choice.

  All wasn’t lost. The foundation would continue under capable leadership, and Aiyn could refocus on being a Shepherd.

  I’d let myself become too human; too embroiled in the conflicts on this planet. It’s not my duty to solve their wars. It’s my duty to protect them from advanced races that might prey on them.

  In that sense, discovering the Forerunner was a twisted blessing. Whatever motivated Brownstone’s current behavior, his moves so far suggested he was more interested in finishing off Aiyn before he initiated the invasion.

  Patience would be the key. Now that her previous human identity was officially dead, the Vax wouldn’t be able to track her. She could train, prepare, and experiment.

  The nanoform lacked her intelligence. Even with the slowed regeneration of her nanite supply, in a matter of months, she’d have enough nanites to go after James Brownstone directly. Once the Alliance realized what she’d done, they’d punish her anyway, so there was no reason not to try an act of desperation and use the power of the nanites to augment herself.

  If I die, I die, but at least I’ll die trying to defend this planet.

  Aiyn placed her hand against the glass, staring out at the orange-red sky as the sun set over Los Angeles. “No more schemes, Brownstone. No more games. You might be a monster, but you’re not a demon or a god.

  “I will kill you.”

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  December 4, 2018

  THANK YOU for not only reading this story but these Author Notes as well.

  (I think I’ve been good with always opening with “thank you.” If not, I need to edit the other Author Notes!)

  RANDOM (sometimes) THOUGHTS?

  One Epic Ring.

  So, it was that last fight there at the end which named this story. James needed to fetch a ring, and his woman wanted epic.

  Like James, I’m pretty straightforward. Thankfully, unlike Shay, my wife didn’t leave me to my own devices when picking out the engagement ring.

  I might never have asked her to marry me because I couldn’t get past that part. I'm serious here.

  How did she handle it? She took me to the store, right up to the counter, pointed at the appropriate ring and told me the size she wanted. (Editor’s note: Thumbs-up, Judith! I want to be you when I grow up.)

  Come to think of it, I’m not sure how decided I was asking her to marry me at that time. She was blasting Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It) by Beyoncé so much, you would have thought she was paying the radio stations at the time to play it merely to mess with my subconscious.

  The other song she seemed to play a lot (Also by Beyoncé) was Irreplaceable (To the Left). Between those two songs, it’s no wonder I asked in such a short amount of time.

  We have been married over eight years now, and I think I’ve just figured out how damned smart she was at the time.

  I’m so screwed.

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  AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS

  One of the interesting (at least to me) aspects of my life is my ability to work from anywhere and at any time. In the future, I hope to re-read my own Author Notes and remember my life as a diary entry.

  Sitting in Five50 at the Aria Hotel

  I just wrote the author notes for The Dark Mage about completely fucking evil and what it means. This time I won’t go into anything so deep. I think I’ll go to the opposite end of the spectrum.

  So, what is completely fucking hilarious? Is it a measure of something that makes one person laugh so hard, they lose their fucking mind?

  Or is it something that seems to tickle the funny bone of the most people?

  If that is true, then I would say that (most likely) physical humor is going to be the universal method of sharing something which is completely fucking hilarious. (Editor’s note: spoken like a male.)

  And if so, then it has to be something which crosses gender and age. Crosses nationalities and race.

  Without giving this more than sixty seconds of thought, I’d imagine a funny scene where a guy is kicked in the nuts is something that (can be) completely fucking hilarious.

  Except for the person kicked. That person believes the kicker is completely fucking evil.

  We would all be right.

  And now, I’ve come back to the dark side, and we are back to evil.

  I think I need cookies and milk.

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  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

  Spontaneous Justice

  The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 15

  1

  The dark-haired woman in front of James adjusted her cat-eye glasses and frowned at the computer in front of her.

  “Mr. Brownstone, is it?” She glanced at him, a dubious look on her face as she took in the large tattooed man in front of her.

  Why is she looking at me like that? James thought.

  James’ gaze dipped to the bronze nameplate on her desk: MARY WINTERS, TWP. He was in the right place, so why was the woman acting like she’d had too spicy a lunch and needed to run to the bathroom?

  He nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. James Brownstone. When I made the appointment, they told me just to put everything in the Notes section, and you’d read that over and let me know what was useful. If you need to know something else, I can tell you. I’ve never done this thing kind of thing before. Sorry if I screwed something up.” He shrugged.

  Mary smiled softly and folded her hands on her broad oak desk. It was covered with pictures of various men and women at their weddings.

  “Perhaps I’m misunderstanding the information you passed along to me, Mr. Brownstone, but from what I can tell, you haven’t even asked your girlfriend to marry you yet.”

  “Yeah, still working on the perfect fu…perfect proposal.”

  She seems like the kind of woman who might get upset if I’m a little too much me, but I need her help, so I better tone it down. At least until she gives me the info I need.

  “Technically,” he continued, “I kind of did start to propose, but she wanted something more special than what I was doing, which was just asking, but maybe she was mad because I didn’t have a ring yet? I get that not having a ring was a big screw-up, but you know, like I said, I’m inexperienced.”

  James had encounter
ed few things in his life as complicated as understanding Shay’s wants and desires. From the beginning, her reactions had confused him.

  “I…see.” Mary pursed her lips tightly, and something approaching panic appeared in her eyes.

  What is her deal? Maybe she really does need to go to the bathroom.

  “And that’s a good thing,” James continued. “She needs something special because she’s special.” He shrugged. “And I’m still trying to figure all that out. I’ve been listening to podcasts, but they aren’t very useful. It’s the same sh…advice over and over, but they don’t give me specific examples. Not ones that apply to her and me, anyway, which is why I’m here right now.”

  The woman chuckled nervously. “I understand how frustrating that must be, Mr. Brownstone, and it sounds like you’ve had a confusing time of it.” Her mouth made an O. “Wait, are you the James Brownstone who is the bounty hunter? From the amusement park incident? I don’t pay much attention to crime. It’s too depressing, but I did hear about that on the news.”

  “Yeah, that’s me. Is that a problem?” James grunted. Not a good time for his reputation to interfere.

  Mary shook her head. “No, I was just rather impressed with your work and fascinated to learn about the size of your bounties. I didn’t realize before hearing about it on the news how much money some bounty hunters make.” Her smile grew wider and hungrier.

  Yeah, that’s what greed looks like, all right. Is that what her attitude was about? She thought I was a drifter bum who couldn’t afford her services? Whatever. I can pay.

  James reached into his pocket to pull out the shield ring and set it on the table. “I scored a ring already. I learned from that mistake.”

  Mary leaned forward to examine the ring. She tilted her head. “Is this jade?”