The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus 3

by Michael Anderle

  The faces of half the people in the room tightened. Some of them swallowed.

  Ah, you all were hoping, weren’t you? Hoping it was Brownstone, and we could just agree to drop a nuke on him.

  The National Security Advisor turned to Ambassador Yona. “The US government is willing to commit assets to aid in defense of Oriceran against this hostile extra-terrestrial threat.”

  “Assets?” the elf replied. “What assets? We’ve already sent a second group after him who used even more powerful magic than the first time, and they barely hurt him before being killed. You saw what happened as well. A limb shorn, and regenerated a short while later.”

  “We don’t know how our aircraft will perform on Oriceran,” the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs explained. “But I’m willing to bet that bastard might not bounce back so easily if we dropped a few JDAMs on him.”

  Ambassador Yona frowned, not understanding the military jargon.

  “Lots of bombs, basically,” Senator Johnston explained. “But unfortunately, General, I actually doubt that would work.”

  The other man looked at him with a frown. “You do?”

  Senator Johnston nodded. “Everything we know about these Vax suggests they adapt quickly to attack types. James Brownstone was a child when he came to Earth. It might very well be that the older Vax have a stronger baseline of defense. After all, it’d be foolish to send out your soldiers to worlds with advanced technology if all it took was one good bomb hit. I think we have to assume at this point that all non-nuclear conventional weapons will be ineffective against an armored Vax.”

  “You’re suggesting this new arrival is, what…the Vax equivalent of Special Forces?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.”

  The general snorted. “We saw him get hurt. He’s not immortal.”

  Senator Johnston shook his head. “Because magic doesn’t seem to be anywhere else in the galaxy but Earth and Oriceran, but our boy just received a crash course in it. For all we know, his symbiont might be able to adapt even faster than Brownstone’s.”

  The National Security Advisor pinched the bridge of his nose. “What about the delivery of a nuclear device? Even if we can’t trust getting a plane over there, we could send a briefcase nuke over with a few soldiers. Have them arm up, and get the Oricerans to teleport them away after they prime the device.”

  “Absolutely not,” Ambassador Yona replied, her face tight with rage. “A nuclear weapon risks breaking the Great Treaty.”

  “It’s not, strictly speaking, strategic-level magic.”

  “It’s the same level of damage.”

  Senator Johnston smiled. “I’d offer a suggestion, Madame Ambassador. We have one asset who is far more likely to be able to defeat the Vax: James Brownstone. Since he’s not the one stirring up trouble, he might be useful to end it. We can’t order him over there, but I know enough about him that if we tap him on the shoulder and let him know a Vax is in town, he’ll want to come and give the new guy a little California hello.”

  Ambassador Yona sighed and shook her head. “That’s an even worse idea. We don’t have the trust in James Brownstone that you do.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  “In addition, even if we presume that he would handle the Vax, he is still a dangerous man who has interfered with the sovereign ruling line of at least one Oriceran race.” Ambassador Yona raised her hand and whispered, a soft melody emerging. The image of a Drow with stark white hair and jet-black skin appeared. “If he returns, who knows who might begin to worry? Or how they’ll react?”

  Senator Johnston nodded toward the Drow. “My understanding is that the Drow don’t hold that against him. They’re the ones who chose to depose their queen. Brownstone was just a tool for that.”

  Ambassador Yona gave him a condescending look. “You don’t understand the delicate balance on Oriceran. The Great Treaty and other lesser treaties bind everything together well enough that we’ve managed to avoid the same perpetual warfare that has plagued your planet for the last ten thousand years. The initial opening of the gates has already rendered things unstable. Every additional element of complexity risks damaging that careful balance.”

  She shook her head. “No James Brownstone.” She took a deep breath. “But it doesn’t matter. We didn’t come to ask for your help. We came to make it clear we were going to use everything short of strategic-level magic to stop him. Even if we’ve had some failures, we have a few other options still available. I shall keep you abreast of the situation. With any luck, this unpleasantness will soon be behind us.”

  “I hope that’s true, Madame Ambassador, but unfortunately, I don’t think it will be,” Senator Johnston replied. He leaned back and shook his head.

  The Oricerans might not want James Brownstone involved, but the senator had long since assumed the bounty hunter would have to be. It wouldn’t be long, he suspected, before he would have to go have a little chat with the man.

  Brownstone’s the easy part. That Shepherd bastard always seems to know what’s going on. He’s going to knock on my door soon, and probably ask if he can sneak a nuke of his own over to Oriceran. Earth, Oriceran, Vax, and the Alliance: four different players. Let’s just see if we can get through the next few days without an interdimensional and intergalactic war starting.

  6

  James smiled as he stepped into the Leanan Sidhe. The main bar was in a slightly different location, and the new tables were a slightly different color, but someone who hadn’t visited it before wouldn’t have known it had been half-destroyed in a battle only a few months ago.

  Fucking Fortis. You should have just left well enough alone. If you had, you would still be alive.

  The thick crowd also proved that no one present worried about any danger. Even though the official cover story was that James had taken on cartel assassins rather than government agents, he had worried that business would drop off. Most people, he presumed, wouldn’t want to drink in a place where they might get shot.

  James looked at a charred piece of wood hanging on the wall above a brass plaque.

  This is a piece of the original bar destroyed in the battle between James Brownstone and the cartel hitmen.

  The date of his battle with Fortis was inscribed beneath.

  A couple of college kids with USC shirts stood next to the plaque, taking selfies with their phones in increasingly outlandish poses.

  James shook his head as he proceeded toward the back and the crowd parted for him by instinct. The pub was one of the few places he could go where most people didn’t demand stupid shit like autographs or selfies with him, but he’d been drinking at the place since before he had become famous, even if he didn’t hit the pub nearly as often anymore.

  The Professor was in his usual spot, his cheeks already red and a half-empty mug of beer in hand. James sat across from him without waiting for an invitation.

  James used to spend a lot of time in the place, but things had changed. He had changed, but that didn’t mean he trusted or respected the Professor any less. Some things never changed.

  “Good evening, lad.” The Professor offered him a warm smile. “I didn’t know you were coming in. I’m assuming because you didn’t call, this isn’t about work.” He sounded intrigued by the possibility.

  James shook his head. “Nah. Shay doesn’t want any jobs until after the honeymoon. Try to avoid asking her, even if you need top-level talent. She’s all in as far as this wedding shit goes.”

  “I’m not one to stand between a woman and the wedding of her dreams, particularly when that woman is as lethal as Miz Carson.” The Professor took a sip of his beer. “If you’re not here for work, are you here for a drink?” A wicked grin spread across his face. “Or are you finally ready to take another crack at being the Bard of Filth? We’re not having a contest tonight, but I could be persuaded to have an exhibition match.”

  “Not that shit either. Never that shit.” James grimaced. “Something more importan
t. Wedding shit.”

  Confusion took over the Professor’s face. “What about the wedding?”

  “I need a best man.” James shrugged. “It might sound weird, but you’re the first person who comes to mind.”

  The Professor rubbed his chin. “A best man, which means I’d have to give a speech extolling your virtues. Aye, that sounds like a lot of work.”

  James grunted. “There’s an open fucking bar.”

  “Excellent, lad.” The Professor raised his mug. “Then I’m willing to work.”

  James chuckled. “Good to know your priorities are always the same.”

  The next morning, James settled in at the conference table at Camp Brownstone. He didn’t typically bother going to meetings anymore, but since Trey was in town, he thought it was a good time to check in with everyone. Especially since they’d had a few new hires in the last several months.

  Trey sat next to James, while Maria and Staff Sergeant Royce sat on the other side of the table.

  Maria nodded at James. “I know how much you hate meetings, so I’ll get right to the point. Things are going well. Really damned well. I’ve got very few complaints, and you know me. I like to bitch about stuff.”

  Trey laughed. “That’s one way to put it.”

  Maria smiled. “How else am I going to describe it? We’ve got steady and consistent captures in LA, and the Vegas teams have been cleaning up, too. We’re steam-rolling the bastards out there.”

  Royce nodded. “None of the new recruits have washed out, and I’ve stepped up training. We’ve got a good team of men and women, with more experience than Trey and his guys had when they came in. I’m surprised by how well they’ve adapted to how we do things here.”

  “Why is that?” James asked with a frown. “I figure guys with more experience would have less trouble than gang members.”

  “The agency culture is…particular. Some people might not want to work next to ex-gang members or, for Vegas rotations, take orders from them. Even though we’ve started adding more of a formal chain of command, at the end of the day, Trey and Maria are the people calling the shots for field operations, and it’s important that everyone respect that.” Royce shrugged. “But it hasn’t been an issue, and no one’s had a problem with me coordinating training. It’s like we’re a bounty-hunting machine.”

  James nodded, satisfied. These reports were consistent with everything he’d been hearing and reading, but it was good to sit down and look people in the eye as they related what was going on. It helped ensure that no one was holding back because they were afraid the Granite Ghost would attempt his own brand of “training.”

  Maria frowned slightly. “We’ve had to expand outside of LA and Orange County at times, just to make sure we have enough revenue, given the number of bounty hunters we have, but that hasn’t been a big problem. Plenty of scum in SoCal.”

  Trey grinned. “You can always send the overflow to Las Vegas. It might not be LA, but they’re punching above their weight in terms of freaks. I’ve got the Mafia nice and tamed for now, but that don’t mean it’s a safe town, and it’ll be a long time before it is.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” James replied. “And if it gets too safe, then we just spread out more. If we need to travel for bounties, we can do that, but I don’t want to grow the agency too much.” He grunted. “No shit where we have branch offices all over or whatever, but I don’t mind grabbing assholes in other cities. It’s good to hear all this from you guys, though. It makes what I have to say next easier.”

  Trey’s grin turned to a frown. “I don’t like the sound of that shit, big man.”

  James shook his head. “It’s nothing bad. I’ve been talking a lot with Shay and Alison, and I think that after the wedding I’m gonna dial shit down even more than I have.”

  “Meaning what?” Maria asked with a curious look on her face.

  Royce didn’t say anything as he watched the conversation unfold. The ex-Marine was always ready to follow orders and react to the situation with professionalism.

  “Meaning I’m semi-retiring,” James replied. “Not fully retiring, but like I said, semi-retiring. I want to begin planning to open a barbeque restaurant.”

  Trey whistled. “Damn, big man. I kind of knew this day was coming, but James Brownstone deciding he’s done is a big-ass deal. It’s the fucking end of an era.”

  “Not really.” James nodded at Trey. “You’ve been bagging level fours by yourself lately, and a lot of the teams have done well, too. The agency doesn’t need me. You’ve got shit completely handled. I’m overkill at this point.”

  “Not that I disagree, but I do have concerns.” Maria sighed. “I’m ex-AET, so I know all too well what non-magicals need to take down enhanced threats. I’m willing to say that our top teams here could do a great job against any level four, but level fives? I don’t think it’s a smart play. There’s too much of a risk.”

  James grunted. “Like I said, semi-retired, not fully retired. I figure for level fives, if they’re dumbshits enough to come to LA or Vegas, that means they want an appointment with me. In those cases, you all just concentrate on finding them, and I’ll lead the final team to take them down. No reason to go looking for too much trouble. If some level-five fucker wants to jack up Denver or some shit, we can let someone else handle it.”

  Maria nodded, relief coming to her face. “We could still use a few more magicals, especially on the LA side of things.”

  “May Wu still might join, but I’m not gonna press her on it. She knows the offer is there.” James shrugged. His phone buzzed with an alarm. “Is that pretty much it? If so, I’ve got some shit I want to talk to Trey about.”

  Maria stood. “I’m good. I think we’re all on the same page, and nothing anyone said is surprising.”

  Royce stood as well, a mischievous grin on his face. “I’ve got a fitness run I want to lead for a few of the guys who are letting themselves go.”

  Trey rested his elbow on the table and waited.

  Maria and Royce departed.

  “What’s up, big man? Trey asked.

  “Yesterday, I asked the Professor to be my best man,” James explained.

  Trey laughed. “Shit, motherfucker! You’re gonna need a whole fucking lake of beer at that wedding if Smite-Williams is showing up.”

  James chuckled. “Probably, but he’s helped me out for my entire career, and in a way, he’s my oldest real friend. You aren’t offended or shit like that, are you?”

  “Nah, but that old drunk being your oldest real friend is kind of sad in a way. Don’t matter much. You’re marrying a fine-ass babe, so who the fuck needs friends, you know what I’m saying?” Trey winked.

  “Yeah.” James nodded to the other man. “I still need groomsmen, though. I already asked Mack, and he agreed. Now I’m asking you. You’re not gonna have to do all the usher shit. There’ll be too many people, so Shay’s gonna hire professional ushers, and she told me to get five groomsmen to match the number of bridesmaids she’s going to have.” He started ticking off fingers. “Maria, Kara, Janelle, Bella, and Alison. We’re still deciding on if we’re gonna have a flower girl and a ringbearer and shit. I want Thomas to bring the rings, but Shay disagrees.”

  Trey laughed. “Seriously, big man?”

  “He’s a smart dog.” James shrugged.

  “Your wedding.”

  James lifted his other hand to tick off more fingers. “The Professor, you, Mack, and Tyler. Maria’s gonna ask him for me. Still trying to decide on the fifth groomsman.”

  Trey eyed James like he’d lost his mind. “You want Tyler to be one of your groomsmen?”

  “Yeah. It’ll make him feel special and shit. He can be annoying at times, but he’s fed me a lot of good information over the years, and it’s obvious Maria wants to marry him, so I might as well feed him a bone. It’s good for the agency.”

  “Sure, okay.” Trey looked down a for a moment, his brow furrowed. “Look, big man, this is gonna sound we
ird, but I think you should only have four groomsmen.”

  “Why?”

  Trey lifted his head. “Because I want to leave a spot in memory of Shorty. Kind of a way to honor him. I know I ain’t have the right to ask you that, given that it’s supposed to be the happiest day of your life and shit…”

  James shook his head. “It’s fine. You’re right. Leaving a spot for Shorty’s not a bad idea, and if he were still alive, he’d probably be the fifth man anyway.”

  Trey’s expression brightened. “Thanks. I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

  “You’d be surprised. I won’t ever forget him.”

  “You don’t ever forget anything.”

  James snorted. “All the more reason. Thanks for the suggestion. That’s all I had to ask about.”

  Trey stood and fluffed his lapels. “You sure? I’m heading back to Vegas tonight, so if there’s anything else you need while I’m in town, let me know.”

  “Nah. I’m good.” James shrugged. “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Trey headed toward the door with a smile on his face.

  Looks like I can finally just go ahead with my life, James thought. No crazy-ass aliens or CIA hunters after me. It might still be a few months until the wedding, but it’ll be good to get everyone used to shit before then.

  Nothing on Earth can fuck this shit up now.

  7

  Sentry 8224 sighed as he reviewed the holographic display of the grainy video clip on his ocular implant and leaned back in the comfortable chair. If anyone was recording or watching him, they would see nothing but a human man seemingly distracted at a desk in his home office.

  I can’t believe I’m reduced to this. I knew Johnston was hiding something, but this?

  All the advanced technology of the Nine Systems Alliance, and the Shepherd still found himself almost completely thwarted by the strange combination of primitive Earth computer systems and the much more concerning magic, but he hadn’t failed totally. A small nanoprobe had managed to infiltrate the meeting with the Oriceran ambassador.