The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3

by Michael Anderle

  Finally learning not to take things for granted, huh?

  Alan slumped in his chair and scrubbed a hand over his face. “If you’re not going to Wyoming, then where… No, no, no. Not USC. Anywhere but USC. I’ll never hear the end of it from them at the next conference. They’ve already poached two people from my department in the last five years.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “You’re that worried about losing me? To be honest, I didn’t think you cared that much about me.”

  Alan took a few more deep breaths and offered her a forced smile. “Your guest lectures are some of the most popular among students in both the archaeology and history departments. Did you know enrollment is up in both majors? Departmental surveys indicate a strong correlation with your lectures and people selecting the majors. One incoming freshman for next year specifically mentioned you in their admissions essay.” He leaned forward, some of his confidence returning to his face. “Suffice it to say, we understand the value of your lectures for generating student interest in majors that normally aren’t considered as sexy as some of the other majors on campus.”

  “Really? People don’t care that half of what we know about human civilization is a lie, and we’re still coming to grips with that in ways that might take decades more, if not centuries, to fully appreciate? That’s not enough to get them interested in archaeology and history unless I give a fancy speech about it?” Shay snorted. Why were so many people so myopic?

  Alan shrugged. “I don’t disagree with you, Shay. I’m just telling you that it’s been a hard sell, and we’ve been worried about budget cuts. Because of some of the state funding shortfalls the last few years, all the state universities have been tightening up, and that’s trickled down to us at the departmental level. We’ve had to be creative with graduate funding, given the pinch on federal grants for students in our fields.” He smiled. “But you’re helping change that for our department and our sister department. More students being interested gives us ammo to help fight off the people trying to take our funding. In this battle, they’ll have to go sniffing for weaker prey.” He smirked, obviously pleased with his metaphor.

  Shay grinned. When she’d asked for the meeting with her department head, she’d thought what she was about to ask would be a harder fight, but he was giving her every weapon and argument she needed to win with ease.

  Talk about your weak prey. You need to fight a little harder, Alan.

  “So, it sounds to me like if I left this campus for whatever reason, you would be hurt in a big way?”

  “I…I suppose you could say that.” Alan’s face paled and he swallowed, seemingly realizing his mistake.

  Shay learned forward. “Then maybe we should talk about me doing something more than just giving guest lectures, like a permanent appointment and teaching a regular class or two.”

  Alan sighed. “Yes, but you see, the issue is…well, like I just said, it’s budgetary. We’ve barely fought off the vultures, and justifying another full-time position is very, very difficult in this funding climate, especially since you’re not bringing in any external funding. If you had a few grants, the situation would be very different, but as far as I’ve heard, you haven’t even applied for any.”

  Shay resisted laughing in his face. In truth, her entire official academic background was nothing but a complicated series of frauds and faked information, courtesy of Peyton.

  Funding? It wasn’t as if she needed the money. Her tomb raider career had been very lucrative, not even taking into consideration her years as a professional killer, but only being around for a few guest lectures meant she could never achieve any sort of true permanency at the university. People valued others when they had to pay, so she was going to make him cough up.

  I was supposed to retire to some tropical island somewhere, but that was before I met James and Alison. That alien bitch might have tricked me when it came to the lance, but her forty million dollars was real enough. The joke’s on her since the weapon’s pretty much useless now.

  Shay scratched her ear. “So let me get this straight…you’re desperately afraid I’m going to leave for another university offering me a full-time position, but you’re not willing to provide me any sort of stability here? I’m going to politely note this is at least a mixed message, if not downright insulting.”

  Alan swallowed. “When you first came here, you said you weren’t interested in that sort of thing. We had an understanding. You made it very clear, in fact.”

  “Come on, we’re archaeologists. If there’s one thing we should both understand, it’s that things and people change.” Shay frowned. “I’ve changed and my life’s changed, and I want a full-time position.”

  “That might seem advisable at first, but have you thought through all the implications?” Alan adjusted his bowtie again, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. “Right now you get to concentrate on the fun aspects of being a professor. No grading, no managing graduate students, and you have much more time for your field research. If you start teaching, you’re going to be tethered here, and from what I remember of your background, your teaching experience is limited.”

  Shay snorted. “I’ve proven that I can connect with students. You just got done telling me someone mentioned me in an admissions essay.”

  It took extreme self-control not to curse at him or laugh in his face.

  “Yes, yes. I do not doubt that you can connect with students.” Alan’s gaze darted around nervously. “You don’t get it, because you don’t have to deal with students for lengthy periods in unpleasant situations. You only have to deal with them when you’re teaching your fun guest lectures. Shay, they’re monsters. Whiny, entitled little monsters.”

  Shay finally lost her fight and burst out laughing. “Monsters? No, a monster is a crystal squid or a giant spider, not some mouthy eighteen-year-old student.”

  Not that I can admit I’ve fought both those creatures.

  “My point is,” Alan replied, “that you’re an archaeologist used to a slow pace in the field. Used to spending your time really getting to know a site and expanding your knowledge base.” He shook his head. “Dealing with threatening and entitled students won’t be the same. You might not be able to handle it. A semester as a teaching assistant during graduate school isn’t the same thing as managing an entire class.”

  Unless I get a bunch of homicidal ice witches in my classes, I doubt I can’t handle them. Wonder what Alan would say if I told him that?

  Shay shrugged. “Could always see what USC has to say after all.” She stood and grinned. “This isn’t one of those ‘Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?’ situations, Alan. If you don’t value me enough to give me a permanent position, I’ll move on. I have to do what’s best for my career.” She spun on her heel and headed for the door.

  “Shay, wait!”

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “What?”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Alan hung his head, his face pale. “But at the earliest, it wouldn’t be until fall semester. Can we still count on you for summer lectures?”

  “As long as you’re working on things, I can be patient.” Shay continued toward the door. “Just ask my boyfriend.”

  The front door opened and Shay looked up. James stepped through, leashed dog trailing behind. Thomas wandered in after the bounty hunter, his tail wagging furiously as it always did after his post-dinner walk with James. His master knelt and removed the leash.

  The dog barked and rushed into the living room where he greeted Shay, then circled three times beside James’ recliner before lying down. James hung the leash up on the coat rack by the door.

  They both always look so happy when they come home, Shay thought.

  James smiled at Shay, who was on the couch looking at her phone. “Hey, Shay! You just get home?”

  “Nope. About forty-five minutes ago.” Shay set her phone down, finishing for the moment her idle perusal of the USC archaeology department’s webpage. �
�Even if you left right before I got here, you took a damned long time. Did Mrs. Garth ambush you again to talk about how her grandson isn’t married yet? The way she talks, the guy is the hottest smart rich man to ever live, and he should be the next king of Oriceran. I think sometimes she’s trying to convince me to leave you for him.”

  “I doubt most men could handle you. Probably not even the king of Oriceran.”

  Shay smirked. “You’re right about that.”

  James nodded toward Thomas. “He just needed a while to go. Maybe he needs more fiber and shit.”

  “More fiber would help him shit, sure.” Shay glanced back down at her phone for a moment, then back up at James. “Just so you know, I talked to my department head today about teaching a regular class and getting a permanent position. Made it clear that I don’t want to be only a guest lecturer, and that if he doesn’t play ball, I’ll consider going to another place.”

  James moved over to his recliner and dropped into it. He extended the footrest. “Yeah? You’ve been thinking about that for a while.”

  Shay shook her head. “But this isn’t just theorizing about it. I basically forced him into a corner and demanded a permanent job after he tried to feed me a bunch of bullshit about the budget.” She grinned. “Oh, it was fun. I remember when he thought he could push me around. I always wanted to punch him in his fucking smug face, but now I have the weapon of popularity. Who knew? Not quite as satisfying as punching a man in the face or throat, but it’s nice in its own way. What do you think?”

  James rubbed his chin. “I’m not sure if punching a guy in the face is more satisfying than kicking or shooting them. Depends on the guy.”

  “I meant about the job.” Shay laughed.

  “Oh, I think it’s a good idea.” James stretched, his thick muscles straining against his shirt.

  Shay almost licked her lips at the sight. It was nice having the Prince of Pec-town as a boyfriend. “Really?”

  “Yeah, not like we’re moving anywhere, and you get restless. Sounds like a good way to work off restless energy without having to kill someone, but are you sure about this? Wouldn’t it make it harder to go on raids? I mean, it’s not like you do them just for money, right? Satisfaction and shit, like me and barbeque.”

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about that, and you’re right, I don’t do them just for money, but I also don’t have to do so many. I have piles of money, and, yeah, it’s expensive to maintain the warehouses and keep myself swimming in gear, but now I’ve got so many investments, I could probably never do a tomb raid again and live a swanky lifestyle until I die from natural causes.” Shay laughed. “Dying from natural causes? Now there’s something I never thought would happen. The point is, maybe it’s time to finally let civilization win. At least for a little while.”

  She looked at the stone-faced James. Maybe he needed more fiber. Or at least he needed to laugh at her jokes more.

  “Let civilization win?” he echoed.

  Shay nodded. “I faked my death because of the cartel, and we destroyed the cartel. Durand’s dead. Snegurka’s dead, and we’ve stopped poking the government about their alien projects. If we can track down Erin and take her down, there will be no major threats on my end. I can have a semi-normal life where I’m not always looking over my shoulder.” She furrowed her brow. “As much as an ex-professional-killer turned-tomb-raider who lives with her alien boyfriend can have a normal life.”

  James grunted. “Sounds good, except for that shit with the alien bitch. Heather hasn’t found anything since the plane crash.”

  “Neither has Peyton.”

  James shrugged. “Maybe she really is dead.”

  Shay snorted. “I’d love to believe that, but we don’t have that kind of luck. This is one of those times where you’re not going to get the simple life, even if she has been damned quiet these last few months. She’s the only true threat to your peace, quiet, and barbeque, and to me.”

  “I agree, but it’s not like we can do anything. If Heather and Peyton can’t find anything, not like you or I are gonna be able to find shit.”

  Shay frowned. “What about Smite-Williams?”

  “The Professor is asking around as quietly as he can since I explained everything to him, and he hasn’t found anything, either.” James grunted. “You know what, though? I don’t know if I give a shit.”

  Shay raised an eyebrow. “You don’t give a shit about an advanced alien hunting you who likely faked her own death just to throw us off her trail?”

  James reached over to scratch behind Thomas’ ears. “She’s zero for two against me, and she’s the one who faked her death to hide, not me. If she thought she had a chance, she would have come at me already. I think we just let Peyton and Heather do their thing. Eventually, she’ll make a mistake, then we’ll figure out where she is and handle her. Until then, we keep on carrying on.”

  “This is a mighty big threat to just ignore.”

  “Not ignoring it.” James chuckled. “Just focusing on the shit that matters. Fuck that alien, and fuck any aliens who want to screw with us. I’m not gonna be afraid because they want to kill me. They’ll have to get in line.”

  3

  Johnny Lee leaned forward to scrutinize the mahjong tiles in front of him. His hand was utter crap, and he risked losing a lot of money. His luck was garbage that night, and he knew at least some of his men were letting him win so as not to piss him off, which made him angrier.

  Fuck. Why do I even play this game? It always ends up pissing me off.

  He frowned down at his plate of half-eaten dim sum. He had a crap hand and a bunch of food with the gentle flavor of a piece of paper, even after hiring a new chef. Considering how much he was paying, he should have been able to find a half-decent chef, even if most people were afraid to work for him as the local leader of the 25K Triad.

  Johnny looked around at the men lounging at the tables and booths of Kowloon, his restaurant and primary base of operations. Both aspects were in need of improvement, even if he’d managed to expand the triad’s presence in LA in recent months after a few unfortunate initial reversals.

  I might gamble for shit and this food is terrible, but at least the business is coming along. That shit’s going to get me recognized. I’ll move up. Maybe I can even go back to San Francisco.

  Murmurs and shouts swept through the restaurant, and Johnny lifted his head to see what the commotion was about.

  What the fuck now?

  He frowned.

  One of his men stumbled through the door, blood and cuts all over his face. His blue suit jacket was shredded with long, narrow cuts. He collapsed to his knees once he cleared the door. The man was one of Johnny’s main enforcers, Andy Chen.

  Several men jumped up from nearby tables to run to him. Johnny stood and pushed his chair in. He maneuvered through the tables toward the wounded man, his brow furrowed in surprise and concern.

  Fuck. Is she back?

  Johnny frowned and cut through the air with his hand. “If you’re not 25K, get the hell out of here now. If you haven’t paid, don’t worry—whatever you had is on me. All employees come back tomorrow morning. If I don’t want you here, I’ll put up signs, and you’ll still be paid for your shifts.”

  A proper ruler had to take care of his people in good times and bad.

  Half the people in the restaurant rose, exchanging nervous looks. They shuffled out, their attention locked on the wounded man. A few employees ran into the back to shout in Cantonese and Spanish. The kitchen employees streamed out after that.

  Johnny grimaced as his bartender disappeared with the rest of the fleeing people. He really needed to train one of his men to do that job for situations like this. It was hard to know when you might need a nice mixed drink to cut the edge.

  The wounded man pushed the other people off him, murmuring something under his breath.

  Johnny closed and knelt in front of him. “Andy, what the fuck happened?”

  Andy contin
ued murmuring almost inaudibly.

  Johnny leaned in to listen.

  Andy stared down at his blood-covered hands. “She’s coming. She’s coming. She’s coming.”

  The triad leader frowned and shook his man by the shoulders. “Who’s coming? What the fuck happened? Where are the rest of the guys?” He looked around to confirm that only his men were left in the restaurant. They didn’t need witnesses to 25K business.

  She’s coming?

  Johnny’s stomach knotted. There was one woman who’d messed with the triad when they’d first started pushing hard into LA. They’d had trouble with the dark-haired bitch a while back, but he’d thought they’d come to an understanding with her, and he hadn’t run into her or her little gray-haired friend in a long time.

  It didn’t make any sense for the dark-haired bitch to come back. The last time they’d dealt with her, she’d traded with them for information.

  Shit. Did someone mess with her little pet elf chick? If I shoot one of the guys responsible and apologize, maybe she’ll leave the rest of us alone.

  Johnny shook Andy again. “Who’s coming? Is it the dark-haired bitch?”

  Andy laughed manically. “No, she’s a normal woman. We’d at least have a chance if it was the other one.”

  “Who the fuck are you talking about?” Johnny shouted. “And what happened to the other guys with you?”

  Andy blinked several times. “They’re all dead. She killed them. Cut them up like they were nothing. It’s her. She’s real—the Silver Ghost.”

  Concerned murmurs rippled around the room. Every man now stood in a rough semi-circle around Johnny and Andy.

  No, this shit isn’t happening.

  Johnny swallowed. Andy was right. The triad leader would have preferred the dark-haired bitch to be the one hunting them rather than the Silver Ghost.

  He took a few deep breaths, trying to focus. The worst thing he could do at that moment was show fear. It was time to be a leader, even if he didn’t believe what he was about to say. Doubt was poison to men who had to risk their lives.