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The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3

Page 81

by Michael Anderle


  Shay laughed. “By the time this shit is done, you will have planned the whole wedding.”

  “I want Thomas to be the ring dog. I saw that shit on the internet.”

  Shay stared at him. “Um, that one I’m going to have to think about.” She leaned over to kiss him. “It might have been a few crazy weeks, but I feel like everything’s starting to finally calm down. No alien stalkers, no government conspiracies, just us doing what we do. I’ll be able to settle into the new semester without too much trouble now.”

  James grunted. “Yeah, just a nice and simple life—with a few three-headed dragons and mind-control bastards thrown in for spice.”

  Senator Johnston continued typing as someone stepped into his room and closed the door. “Since my assistant didn’t call ahead, you don’t have an appointment. I’m a very busy man. Go outside and make an appointment.”

  “You called me,” replied an amused voice.

  The senator looked up from his computer screen to find a Light Elf smiling at him. It was the Fixer, Correk.

  “I did at that,” Senator Johnston replied with a smile. “I apologize for my rudeness. I have a few things to discuss with you. I don’t know if you are aware of the current situation with the Nine Systems Alliance?”

  Correk folded his hands in front of him. “My understanding is that they now have another permanent representative on Earth. One pretending to be a human, but who at least your government and a few other key governments are aware of and dealing with.”

  “Exactly.” Senator Johnston frowned. “The reason I contacted you was that I wanted to discuss backup plans in regard to the Alliance. The President has given me his full confidence in this matter. Quite frankly, I’m simply providing plausible deniability, but we all have our roles.”

  Correk moved over to sit in the chair in front of the senator’s desk. “Backup plans?”

  “Yes. You’re the Fixer, and you’re supposed to help all magical beings on Earth.”

  “Why are you bringing it up now?” The elf frowned slightly.

  “Because you can’t help the magical beings of Earth if the Nine Systems Alliance turns them to dust by nuking our planet.” Senator Johnston gave him a tight-lipped smile. “And it just so happens that helping them also helps us non-magicals.”

  Correk scoffed. “Do you have evidence the Alliance intends to do that?”

  “They were prepared to fire a so-called antimatter torpedo at Earth when we met them.” The senator shrugged. “We got lucky that we were ready for them last time and the alien involved was reasonable. Next time, maybe they don’t care. They’re so damned afraid of Brownstone that they might do something stupid.”

  “And I’m not saying to do this, but you’ve never maintained even a brief flirtation with handing him over to the Alliance, right?” Correk raised an eyebrow in question.

  Senator Johnston shook his head. “To hell with that. He’s a loyal American, and on top of it, if they’re that afraid of him, it’s a good thing. We don’t know this Nine Systems Alliance from whatever random Martians might be out there. Even if we assume everything they say about the Vax is true, that doesn’t mean they’re good people.” He leaned back in his chair. “And so what if they get a little spooked about our magic? From what little they’ve admitted, they don’t have any magic on any of the planets in their Alliance. They associate portals with the Vax and consider them to be very dangerous. Maybe they will end up taking offense to something on Earth and come for us. Right now, the fact that we still have Brownstone gives us leverage to get them to back the fuck off.”

  Correk furrowed his brow. “You’re saying that you want to use Brownstone as a weapon against the Alliance? That’s a dangerous game you’re playing.”

  The senator scoffed. “I’m saying a man loyal to his country and planet will defend it. I won't mind pointing him at the Alliance if they get too frisky. That’s one of the reasons I’ve helped him.” He raised a hand. “Now, don’t get me wrong. I genuinely like the man, but liking someone and using them as a tool aren’t mutually exclusive. And now that we know about the Alliance and the Vax, let alone some of the other aliens out there, we have to keep asking ourselves what we’ll do if they don’t come in peace.

  “And what have you come up with?”

  “I think having strategic-level magical solutions ready would be helpful,” Senator Johnston replied.

  Correk frowned. “King Oriceran isn’t going to support anything that’s a violation of the Great Treaty, or, I should point out, violations of agreements between Earth countries and the Oricerans about the same issues. You’re worried about the Alliance, but I don’t think you realize that if there was another Great War like on Oriceran, it’d be more terrible than you could imagine.”

  Senator Johnston pointed to a framed “Blue Marble” Earth photo on his wall. “If Earth goes down, all magical beings on Earth go down with it, even if the Oricerans can protect themselves. There are billions of lives on the line.”

  “You’re misunderstanding.” Correk waved a hand. “There are political considerations for both planets, so we should focus on solutions that don’t violate our political constraints but are still useful as backups to Brownstone.”

  Senator Johnston nodded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. What did you have in mind?”

  “The beginnings of a plan. There are just a few items that need to be recovered for it. Ms. Carson has already gotten us some, so maybe she and Brownstone can help with the others.” Correk cleared his throat. “Along with a few people affiliated with your CIA.”

  Senator Johnston folded his hands in front of him. “Tell me more.”

  Author Notes - Michael Anderle

  February 6, 2019

  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?

  So, my Oriceran Partner in Crime (OPC) Martha Carr has been nudging (read, harassing) me about doing a set of stories AFTER Brownstone 18 comes to an end that I’m just not feeling. Once I started the comment above, I realized WAIT A TIC - I CAN’T REVEAL THAT YET!

  DAMN!

  Ok, two more books and then all will be revealed that (I think) we need to reveal about this side of the Brownstone Family.

  If you haven’t picked up Alison’s tales, you might want to do that. She is NOT (and yet is) a chip off the old blocks of her adopted parents.

  Alison has more patience and provides a few more opportunities for people than James would. However, there is a limit to Alison’s patience.

  It’s a family trait.

  AROUND THE WORLD IN 80 DAYS

  One of the interesting (at least to me) aspects of my life is the 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.

  The Antlers Hotel, Colorado Springs USA - Superstars Writing Conference (Kevin J. Anderson)

  I’m in my hotel room, working at the table in the “living” room of the two room suite. My wife and I pretty much need this type of separation for multiple reasons that I won’t get in to.

  However, it helps keep our marriage happy. I’m a morning person, she is not.

  Enough said.

  The view out our window is magnificent. Mountains all around and it snowed on our way across a street to get to a restaurant. The swirling snow as it danced down the street in snake-like coils was very interesting. The wind-chill factor cold of about five degrees was NOT an acceptable return on investment.

  OK, I will admit it - I am a real wuss when it gets cold. I find it fascinating and delightful—and I find the cold that comes with it a show-stopper at times. I apparently want the beauty without the pain that goes with it. Perhaps I want the cabin-in-the-woods experience without the shivering and the shakes.

  Is that too much to ask?

  (
Personal note: The Antlers Hotel has AMAZING heaters. While the decor is decidedly 1980s rustic and I have NO idea how the heating works, I can tell you that I feel very comfortable admitting their heater can make it like the Sahara in my room.

  In the middle of a snowstorm.

  And I was raised in Houston, Tx.)

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  Go ahead. I bet you can’t read just one.

  Sign up here: http://lmbpn.com/email/.

  HOW TO MARKET FOR BOOKS YOU LOVE

  Review them so others have your thoughts, and tell friends and the dogs of your enemies (because who wants to talk to enemies?)… Enough said ;-)

  Ad Aeternitatem,

  Michael Anderle

  Horsemen Gather

  The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 17

  1

  Four drones flew overhead in tight formation in the cloudless sky. One machine broke away and descended, a small white box clutched in its cargo arms as it made a sharp right turn. It passed over James and Thomas, a dull buzz announcing its arrival.

  Here it comes, James thought. It had to be four of them.

  Thomas barked at the low-flying Andercarr delivery drone. He strained against his leash and growled, ready to take down the mechanical menace that dared to invade his neighborhood. The dog had nothing against birds, but he despised drones with an almost rabid passion. James had had to stop him from taking down a drone making a delivery a few weeks before. It was funny until the delivery company stopped by to complain.

  “It’s okay, boy,” James rumbled, keeping a firm grip on the leash. “It’s just someone getting a package. You don’t want to stop someone from getting their As Seen on TV shit. That could be the only thing they have going for them.”

  Thomas continued to bark at the drone.

  Between magic and drones, James wondered about the future of human drivers. The main thing keeping drones from eliminating their flesh competitors was the fact that most cities didn’t want hovering robots carrying anything heavy around, especially since hackers had long since proven that the much-vaunted security systems of delivery companies weren’t foolproof. A few high-profile so-called accidents had ended the brief risk of drones cluttering the sky with every type of cargo imaginable, but there were still more than enough that James couldn’t go for a walk without his dog getting pissed off.

  Will it make a difference if they start doing a bunch of shit with magic?

  Thomas growled and crouched low as if trying to figure out if he could make it into the air to take down the drone. James wouldn’t put it past the animal to try some doggie parkour to get at his prey.

  It might be fun to see him try, but I can’t piss off the delivery companies. I order too much shit, especially for PFW.

  “Come on, boy,” James tugged on Thomas’ leash. “Let’s finish our walk. The drones will be gone by then.”

  Thomas finally gave up on the aerial enemy. The dog barked a few more times before turning to follow his master as they continued their walk.

  At least the warm sun kept James from needing a coat. That was one of the great bonuses about living in Los Angeles. Not every city stayed as warm in late October.

  People bitched about how it almost never snowed in the winter. It had only snowed here twice in his entire life, but he saw that as a bonus. Every trip to a cold climate reinforced the opinion.

  “Should probably buy some fucking candy,” James mumbled. “Halloween’s coming up.”

  Thomas looked at him and barked once.

  James hadn’t cared about the holiday in past years, but the last time he’d talked to Alison, she suggested he could stand to be a little user-friendly with the neighborhood kids. His increased visible presence in the neighborhood, including throwing barbeques, meant that people now expected him to be more social all the time.

  Being nice to people makes shit more complicated, but it does make the neighborhood better.

  “Complicated.” James grunted. “Can you believe that shit, Thomas? This is what I get for not keeping shit simple. Now I have to worry about fucking candy.”

  The dog barked and wagged his tail as they got close to the park. James liked this time of day; it was a little bit before the neighborhood kids got home from school and flooded the park with their games. His attempts to go to the park when the neighborhood kids were around always turned annoying. The children swarmed Thomas, eager to pet the dog.

  They had dubbed him “the Granite Fido.” The dog loved the attention, but his master didn’t.

  He doesn’t even do bounties. He’s just a dog.

  James stared at his dog for a moment, considering a few possibilities.

  Then again, maybe I could get him some body armor. Would a defensive artifact work on a dog? Zoe could mix up some sort of potion that would help him bite harder. With a shield and a good bite, he could help me take down bounty assholes.

  James rubbed his chin as he considered ways to turn his dog into a bounty hunting aid before discarding the idea. No matter how tough he made Thomas with artifacts or armor, the dog wouldn’t be able to deal with the high-level bounties who now formed the bounty hunter’s main prey. He’d get hurt, and it’d be his master’s fault.

  A woman’s scream ripped from a stand of trees, blasting the idle thoughts about turning Thomas into a killing machine out of James’ head.

  What the fuck? Someone is seriously trying shit in my neighborhood?

  James frowned and released the leash as he sprinted toward the source of the scream. Thomas barked several times and charged forward, his legs pumping hard.

  A loud thud came from the trees, cutting off another scream. When James arrived, a man was standing over a woman who was lying on the ground clutching her bleeding head. The man held her purse, and he wore brass knuckles.

  “You should have just given it to me, bitch!” the mugger screamed. “Getting hurt was your own damned fault.” He turned at the sound of Thomas’ barking. “What the fuck now?”

  The dog leapt at the man and sank his teeth into his thigh.

  The man squealed in pain and tried to shake the dog off, but soon collapsed to the ground slapping his hands against the ground. “Get him off me. Get him off me.”

  If he had more discipline, he might have thought to punch Thomas. But then he’d have to deal with me punching him into a tree.

  James slowed as he approached his dog, who was still mauling the criminal. “You’re lucky, asshole. A few inches higher and to the left and you’d have a higher voice,” he snapped. “Thomas, come.”

  The dog released his lock on the man and padded back over to James. He turned to face the mugger and let out a long, low growl.

  The woman sat up and gingerly touched the laceration on the side of her head. “God bless you, Mr. Brownstone.”

  “Brownstone?” the mugger whispered. “But Brownstone don’t do anything but level four and up bounties anymore,” the man whimpered, clutching his leg. “Everyone knows that.”

  James glowered at him. “This isn’t bounty work, asshole. This is pest control and a workout for my dog. If it wasn’t me, it might have been one of my guys. Plenty of them live in this neighborhood, and they wouldn’t have been as nice as me.” He stared down at the groaning man. “Call the cops right now.”

  “What?” The mugger blinked.

  “Call the fucking cops, asshole.” James cracked his knuckles. “Get them here before I decide I could use some exercise, too. It’ll be a lot of paperwork if I beat your ass, but if you piss me off enough, I’ll pay the price for the stress relief.”

  The mugger swallowed, then pulled out his phone and dialed 9-1-1. “I’d like to report I just tried to mug someone, and I need cops to come and arrest my ass as soon as possible. No, I’m not fucking lying. I tried to mug this bitch, and I totally knocked her ass down. I need
an ambulance, and she needs an ambulance.”

  James grinned and crossed his arms. “I think I’m gonna stay until the cops come. Unless you have a fucking problem with that?”

  “No, sir.” The mugger trembled. “Of course not, sir.”

  Damn you, Johnston, thought CIA Agent Karl Nast. How dare you use the CIA to help you with your damned plans? You haven’t won, not yet, and I’ll make sure of it.

  Karl glanced around the table at the small group of CIA agents. A few years ago, these men and women represented some of the most elite and best defenses the United States had against non-Oriceran extraterrestrial threats as members of the secret team Fortis. Their group had the direct ear of the President and the authority to do whatever was necessary to protect the country, and now they were reduced to hiding like mobsters on the run. Many of the agents weren’t even officially alive anymore.

  Damn everyone who has stood in our way, more concerned about inhuman creatures than the safety of their own country. We’ve let them humble and humiliate us, and we’ve been undercut by traitors motivated by naïve idealism. Pretty speeches about morals won’t protect this country or planet. The CIA used to understand that.

  “We’ve been too passive for too long,” Karl began. He made eye contact with each agent as he spoke. “It doesn’t matter how the situation has changed. Our mission as members of Fortis is to continue to defend this country and planet from aliens, even if the politicians and bureaucrats have allowed themselves to become weak and corrupt.” He frowned. “At least with the Oricerans, we have magical parity and linked history, but the events of the last few years have proven again and again that humanity is woefully behind when it comes to alien technology. All the fancy spells in the world will do nothing if the Nine Systems Alliance shows up with some sort of battleship and starts bombarding the planet. Even they are afraid of the Vax, and we’ve all dealt with other species who possess technology we don’t have hard counters for, other than what we’ve been able to collect from them.”

 

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