The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3

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The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3 Page 92

by Michael Anderle


  Shay was pinned on both sides. There would be no avoiding a confrontation.

  The sedan’s doors opened, and four suited men stepped out, each carrying what looked like a dark wooden flintlock pistol with glowing yellow glyphs on the barrel.

  Huh. Hard to tell from this far away, but those look more like magic than alien tech. That I can handle. Again, these assholes are underestimating me. These fuckers are gonna pay for coming after me. I don’t care if they are secret government assassins.

  The men all aimed at the Porsche. Shay crouched behind her door, mostly to keep the slight argent sheen from her defensive artifacts out of sight. Whatever surprise she could manage might help. She hadn’t seen either drone since the truck crash, and if they were too high, they would have trouble picking out fine details about her skin.

  “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant,” shouted one of the men, an unassuming specimen except for his dark suit and the odd gun. “Or at least any more unpleasant.”

  “I’m not the one who just killed some random trucker to make a roadblock,” Shay called back. “We’ve already gone past unpleasant, but don’t you think that was kind of an idiotic move? What are you going to do, gun down all the local police? Haven’t you heard the song, Captain Flintlock? You only get one shot.”

  The man chuckled. “I assure you that these have a lot more than one shot.”

  “What can I say? Hamilton lied to me. Maybe James is onto something about musicals sucking, but you’ve made a big fucking mistake anyway.”

  Captain Flintlock murmured something to one of the men beside him before turning his head back toward Shay. “If you come with us right away, you won’t be harmed. If you resist, you very well may be, but in either event, you’re not leaving here unless it’s in our custody, dead or alive.”

  Shay scoffed. “Let’s just say your track record doesn’t make me trust you, asshole, and the only reason I haven’t killed you all is that I want to know who the hell you are before I do. It’s important to know who to target for revenge.”

  “You don’t need to know that information at this time. You just need to know that you come with us alive, or you can die here in an alley and come with us anyway. And let me be clear, Miss Carson…this time you’ll actually be dead, unlike that little stunt you pulled back East. We’re a whole different level of threat than what you’re used to dealing with.”

  Fuck. Between the weapons, the attitude, and the info, they have to be government. Who exactly works for Nephilim and Ragnarök in the government? DoD civilians? Hidden office FBI? CIA? Guess it doesn’t matter. I’ll kill them and grab one of their phones. Peyton can figure everything else out from them. Time to remind them who they’re dealing with.

  Shit. Peyton.

  Shay pulled out her phone. She had no signal despite being in the middle of one of the largest cities in the United States.

  Fucking government jamming. Pussies.

  “So what’s it going to be, Miss Carson?” asked Captain Flintlock.

  Shay laughed. “If you know who I really am, then you know how many people I’ve put down, magicals and non-magicals, and I wasn’t as well-equipped back in the day. You looking to die, asshole?”

  “Oh, we’re quite aware of your penchant for high-powered artifacts and weapons,” Captain Flintlock replied. “Don’t worry. We’ve brought just the weapons we need to get through your defenses. Oh, and if you think the police or AET will show up, you’re mistaken. We’ve taken measures to assure that their arrival will be delayed. No one’s coming to help you. Not the police, not any of your little friends.”

  “I noticed the jamming already. Good. Thanks. It means I can kill you without having to answer a lot of questions.” Shay crept backward, keeping the door between her and the men. “And you guys are fucking morons. If you knew enough to show up with not one but four special guns, you should have been smart enough to know not to fuck with me to begin with.” She primed and arced the sonic grenade over the door.

  The men opened fire. Hissing, the flintlocks spit tight balls of blue-black fire that blasted straight through her door and narrowly missed her. Shay scrambled behind the car as they continued blowing holes in her car. Her sonic grenade lay on the ground, and all four men still stood there not even a hint they were bothered.

  Some sort of shields, then. Too bad shit couldn’t be easier, but they’ve ruined this perfectly good car. They’re just lucky it’s not my Fiat.

  Shay wasn’t sure if her artifacts could hold up to their weapons, but in any case, she wasn’t James. If they could get through her shields, there was no alien amulet to stitch her back together if she lost consciousness.

  Okay, let’s play this smart. First I need to test their defenses.

  Shay popped up to fire a few rounds at Captain Flintlock and the man closest to him. Her bullets bounced off invisible fields around the men, and she ducked back down as their flintlock fireballs ripped right through the windshield. The hiss of the firing continued, but no rounds penetrated through the back of the Porsche.

  So they can’t blast through everything? That’s nice, but it doesn’t do me any good when I can’t get through their shields.

  Shay rolled to the side to fire off several more rounds, but the new angle didn’t help her hurt the men either.

  The Flintlock Brigade ceased fire. The two drones buzzed overhead as they appeared from over one of the buildings and circled the area.

  “Are you ready to end this farce, Miss Carson?” called Captain Flintlock. “You have to appreciate now that we’ve taken all necessary measures to deal with you. We don’t want to have to kill you, but we will. I’m not going to guarantee you’ll survive this, but if you come with us, at least you’ll have a chance.”

  Time for test number two.

  Shay holstered her pistol and readied one of her gnome-crafted knives. She shot up for a quick toss at Captain Flintlock.

  The suited assassin didn’t flinch at her throw. His eyes widened as the knife pierced his shield and closed on his face. The magic slowed the blade, but the point jabbed his cheek, drawing blood before the knife fell to the ground, scraping his jaw.

  Not total anti-magic, but good enough.

  Shay rolled back around the car as the flintlocks came alive again, blowing holes through the other side of the car. She needed to close on the men to finish them off, but there was no way she could close without getting ventilated.

  She gritted her teeth and pulled out another sonic grenade in one hand and a flashbang in the other. She tossed the sonic over the car as a distraction, waited one second, then threw the flashbang, popping up immediately after the echoing boom. The men groaned.

  There’s always a weakness to exploit. You idiots just assumed I threw two sonics.

  Shay yanked out another knife as she charged toward the men who were clutching their eyes and firing wildly, blasting holes in the ground and nearby walls, knocking asphalt and concrete shards into the air.

  The angry woman closed the distance in seconds and shoved her knife against Captain Flintlock’s throat, pushing with both hands through the thick field blocking her. It felt like trying to stab a man at the bottom of a bowl of thick molasses.

  The force was enough to ensure her blade pierced his throat. He gurgled as blood leaked out of his mouth. His gun fell to the ground as his fingers twitched.

  Shay dropped and grabbed the magical firearm. She jerked to her side and fired at another man. His shield took the first hit, but the second tunneled right through his heart. The third man died as she added a new hole to his head, and the fourth man had just gotten his sight back in time to see her kill him.

  Nothing more satisfying than killing people with their own weapons.

  Several more cars and vans screeched to a halt down the street. More suited men with rifles rushing out and ducking behind the opened doors. They popped out their magazines and slapped in new ones.

  Shit, those are probably anti-magics if they’re bothering t
o change.

  Shay looked up at the two circling drones and nailed them both with the flintlock before rushing back toward her car. The new arrivals opened fire, their bullet storm riddling the sedan with dozens of holes.

  Well, shit. They’ve got me pinned even if I’ve got the Ultimate Flintlock of Rogue Government Operative Killing or whatever.

  Shay peeked around the corner to fire, but the intense suppression fire from the reinforcements forced her back into the alley. Shouts and footfalls grew closer.

  Fuck.

  Two large tactical drones descended from overhead, both carrying large rockets.

  More drones?

  Shay narrowed her eyes. Her defenses could take a hit from a rocket or two—not that she’d tested that exact scenario, but she was pretty sure.

  James, if your engagement ring can’t even take a rocket, I swear I’m gonna come back and haunt all your ribs.

  She lifted her flintlock, but the drones zoomed out of the alley, releasing their rockets toward the reinforcements. The area shook with thunderous explosions, and something flashed from behind her.

  What the fuck?

  Shay spun that way. A massive rope of light wrapped around the trailer and yanked on it, slowly pulling it away from the alley.

  A hail of bullets shredded one of the drones, and it tumbled to the ground. The other released its final rocket before bullets struck its rotors, and the machine plummeted to the hard asphalt below.

  “Come on, Shay!” shouted a man’s voice from the other end of the alley. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t put a name to the voice.

  The light rope vanished, and although it hadn’t moved the trailer much, there was more than enough room for her to get through.

  Shay sprinted that way, the flintlock still in hand and ready. She raised the weapon, ready to fire.

  A handsome dark-haired man in a suit stood just outside the back end of the alley.

  Shay snorted. “Switched to contacts, Daniel?”

  It’d been a long time since she had last talked to the CIA agent. His presence there and his help suggested the men after her were CIA from a different faction, given what little she knew about his true background.

  A blonde Light Elf in a leather catsuit stood next to him.

  Shay raised an eyebrow. “You join some BDSM club since the last time we talked?”

  Daisy laughed. “I like her.”

  “We don’t have time for jokes.” Daniel whipped out his pistol, a small silver model with a barrel far too small to fit a bullet. He pulled the trigger, and a bright blue beam shot out. A man screamed from the front of the alley. “We can chat later, Professor Carson, or Aletheia, whichever you prefer.” He nodded to a nearby silver Jaguar. “For now, let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Shay sighed and glanced over her shoulder at her brand-new hole-riddled Porsche.

  13

  The Jaguar screamed down the mostly empty streets. Daniel pressed a few buttons on the touchscreen labeled Chromatic Active Camouflage. The system beeped, and a confirmation message appeared.

  I’m having car envy here, Shay thought. The guy does have some nice toys. I’ll have to give him that, even if he is a government stooge. And he did help me back there.

  Shay glanced at the elf in the backseat. “By the way, who the hell are you? I don’t remember seeing you around CIA Boy before. Then again, I didn’t get to meet any of his friends.”

  The elf gave Shay a pleasant smile. “I’m Daisy.”

  “Daisy, huh?” Shay arched a brow. “And you’re in the CIA? Do they even allow elves in the CIA?”

  “I’m not in the CIA.” The elf shook her head and made a pained face.

  Shay eyed her. “You’re not in the CIA? You just hang out with a CIA agent and help him take on other government agents?”

  “Yes. Being in the CIA would be painful and far too boring. Just think of me as a freelancer who let Daniel convince me to help him out for far longer than I should have with this really corny speech about… You know what? I don’t even remember. Something like, ‘Do you want to do pointless mercenary jobs for the rest of your life or save the two worlds?’”

  Daniel snorted. “I don’t think I phrased it that way, but that speech was pretty good. It got me a whole team of qualified operatives and support personnel.”

  “Sure, it worked. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Daisy winked. “Though how much of that is the speech versus other things?”

  Daniel frowned and cleared his throat.

  Shay chuckled. “Just so you know, that speech wouldn’t have worked on me. It’s hard to appeal to a sense of altruism if it doesn’t exist.”

  “I still recruited you, just in a different way.” Daniel tapped a few buttons, and multiple camera views appeared on his console display. “Altruism works for some people, challenge for others. Ego for some.”

  Shay sighed. “Anyway, thanks for the assist, Agent Goldstein, even if it’s been a while. I had those guys on the ropes, but I don’t mind them all checking out sooner.”

  “Winters,” Daniel replied.

  “Summers?” Shay offered, confused by the sudden seasonal reference.

  “No, Winters. It’s my actual last name,” Daniel explained. “But just call me Daniel. I think we’re well past the point of bullshit excuses and lies about what and who we truly are. I know all about who you are, Professor Carson. You’re Aletheia, one of the most skilled tomb raiders on the planet. You’re also a retired professional killer, who was also one of the most skilled on the planet. You faked your death to escape a cartel hunting you, a cartel whose entire top leadership was conveniently destroyed shortly after James Brownstone, and I presume you, traveled to the same area where they were having a meeting.”

  Shay grinned. “Coincidences happen. Bad coincidences happen more often to bad people. And those cartel guys were very, very bad people.”

  Daisy eyed Shay, surprise and respect on her face. “The two of you killed a cartel?”

  Shay shrugged. “To be fair, there were a lot of explosive drones involved. I forgot how many each of us individually killed. You’d have to ask James.”

  “Impressive.” Daisy gave a quick nod.

  Shay shrugged. “To be clear, I didn’t do it because I was trying to be a hero. Again, no altruism. I did it because the assholes had a hit out on me.” She turned back to Daniel. “If you know all that, it makes this easier for both of us. Is that why you basically disappeared? You didn’t want some dangerous killer dirtying up your black ops? And call me Shay. Only my students call me Professor Carson, and occasionally my department head, when I make him.”

  “It had nothing to do with you and everything to do with my group and our operations.” Daniel sighed. “Things were getting too hot. I was honest with you before about everything I told you. I’m part of a special group in the CIA dedicated to alien matters, but my group isn’t the only one, even if we’re currently the ones calling the shots. My group has a little different attitude than Fortis. They were the ones mostly calling the shots before. They had the approval until not all that long ago of the highest levels of government, and they used it for ruthless actions.”

  “Fortis? They were the flintlock brigade that tried to kill me back there?” Shay lifted the weapon and grinned. “I earned a really nice trophy. It almost makes it worth it to have them try to kill me.”

  Daniel glanced at the weapon. “Don’t get too attached. I’m surprised you still have it. Any second now, you won’t.”

  Shay scoffed. “I’m not giving this back, Daniel. Those Fortis assholes just murdered my new Porsche, and this is my compensation.” The flintlock cracked and turned to dust. “What the hell did you do, Daniel?”

  I swear, if this guy is fucking with me, he’s not gonna like how I react. Gratitude only goes so far.

  “It wasn’t me,” The agent offered with a smirk. “Those things are powered by this kind of central battery, which is large and unwieldy. They probably had it in
the trunk of the car. You get too far away and…well, you saw. It makes the flintlocks not all that handy for field work, not that there were a huge number of them to begin with.”

  “Damn it,” Shay grumbled. “So now I’m out a Porsche and a cool new gun.”

  Daisy snickered. Shay glared at her.

  The elf held up a hand. “Not trying to be a bitch. Trust me, Shay. I’ve been there. So has Daniel. Fortis trying to kill us is practically a daily pastime for some agents.”

  Shay dropped the remnants on the floor mat and dusted her hands. “Well, this has just been a shit night, now, hasn’t it?”

  Daniel was staring straight ahead, his brow furrowed.

  “Thanks, Ronni,” he muttered under his breath. “Just let me know if they’re coming our way. Between Shay and what the drones did, we took down a lot. That should at least give them a reason to pause for a day or two and reconsider their tactics.”

  Shay looked back to Daisy. “Some sort of hidden receiver?”

  The elf nodded. “Ronni’s one of our tech support people. Very creative sort.”

  They aren’t set up so differently than Peyton and me or James and Heather. A few fancier gadgets here and there, and probably more backup, but same principle.

  Daniel sighed and looked at Shay. “Our drone coverage suggests that no one from Fortis is following us. I’m surprised they were so bold. Going after you in the middle of the city like that was risky, even with them taking measures to make sure the police didn’t come. That must mean they’re very worried about you finishing the job.”

  Shay leaned back in her seat and got comfortable. “So these Fortis assholes are, what, the guys behind Projects Ragnarök and Nephilim? They’re the guys hiring people like Durand?”

  Daniel nodded. “Among other things. Originally, they were a secret group tasked with investigating and controlling non-Oriceran alien activity on Earth, but their method for doing this boiled down to taking whatever artifacts they could find and killing anyone who had seen too much.”

 

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