“Uh, thank you,” she murmured, unsure if saying something like that was even appropriate. She grabbed the two bags containing the stuffed animals and stepped out of the car. The back door closed itself, and the car pulled away as she made her way toward the orphanage.
Father McCartney stood outside holding Dina’s hand.
The little girl broke free and rushed toward Charlyce, throwing her arms around the woman. “You’re here! I’m so happy to see you!”
Charlyce smiled down at the little girl. “I’m happy to see you too, my little angel.”
A few hours later, Charlyce smiled through her tears as she chopped onions. Cooking for others, especially after living on the street, made her heart soar.
There had been so many nights she’d gone to sleep on the streets with her stomach gnawing on itself. Knowing the children in the orphanage would go to bed with their bellies full thanks to Father McCartney and the donors—including Mr. Brownstone—brought a tear to her eye.
Father McCartney chuckled as he stepped into the kitchen. “Always grateful to have volunteers, but I hate to think that I’m working them to tears.” His gaze dropped. “Ah, onions. That explains it.”
Charlyce dried her eyes on her sleeve. “No, it’s not just the onions. It’s tears of joy. Maybe you find it silly, Father, but I’ve come a long way in a short time, and now I’m in a place to give back. It makes me feel very happy, because I never thought I’d be in this position.”
Father McCartney smiled warmly. “Everyone should give back to the community. I, for one, am very grateful for your assistance. Even with all the money donated to this place, it’s hard to keep up.” He sighed and walked over to table. The priest plopped into a chair and set a phone on the tabletop. “The sad truth is, although Dina is young enough that she might get adopted, a lot of these kids are too old by the time they get sent here. So we try to do our best to make sure it’s a nurturing and wholesome environment, and that takes time, money, and effort. Volunteers like you who can help with things like meal prep or playing with the kids are vital.” He looked at the phone and sighed.
“Got a nasty call, Father?”
Father McCartney shook his head. “A problem with one of our older kids. We allow them to have phones. It’s a necessity, after all, particularly for the ones who want to have jobs, but she was getting involved in cyber-bullying of another girl.”
Charlyce sighed. “Enough hate in this world that young girls don’t need to be adding to it.”
The old priest ran a hand through his white hair. “Things have changed so much. I was born in the 70s, you know. I remember hitting up the arcades in Trenton and thinking video games were the most impressive thing ever. When I was growing up, bullying was old-fashioned. Face to face.” He chuckled. “So much has changed. Computers are everywhere. The internet. Magic.”
“You’re giving these children a place to grow up where they know they’re cared about. That’s all anyone can do. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. I was loved, and I made my mistakes. I don’t blame no one but me for them.”
A smile crossed the priest’s face. “I know, and I have my faith to guide me. So much has changed, but people are the same in the end. All we can do is our best to impart our good values to the children. If their hearts are pure, they can do their best to resist technological or magical temptations. Donations from people like James and volunteers like you are a javelin of light piercing the darkness.”
Charlyce teared up again. “I’m just trying to do what little I can to give back after years of not doing nothing. You spent your whole life trying to serve the Lord. That means something.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong—I’m satisfied with how I spent my life. It’s just refreshing to be reminded of all the good people out there.”
The door swung open, and Dina wandered in. “Can I help?”
Charlyce smiled down at the girl. “I need some vegetables washed. Why don’t you go get the stool from the closet, my little angel, and we can make dinner together?”
“Yay!” The girl scampered into the other room.
Father McCartney rose. “You’re a good woman, Charlyce. Thank you for your help.”
She shook her head. “No. Thank you for allowing me to help.”
10
James chuckled as he took in the well-manicured lawns and the expensive new-model cars filling Shay’s neighborhood. Even after his home was destroyed he hadn’t even thought about moving into a new area, despite how rundown it was. He kept his yard and home well-maintained—other than the occasional rocket-launcher attack—and he didn’t want some busybody from an HOA telling him what to do with his own damned property.
He parked his truck in front of Shay’s two-story brownstone. She’d purchased it before they’d met, just one of life’s odd coincidences.
Today was a relationship maintenance day. The podcast stressed that the occasional surprise was good for a relationship, as was sharing activities. He’d texted Shay to tell her they wouldn’t have time for a date to throw her off. She’d never suspect he was going to ambush her for a special Brownstone Date Experience.
I hope this shit goes well.
James marched up the path leading to her front door and knocked lightly. He waited. Shay never answered quickly, but it wasn’t about her checking her hair or make-up; it was her security system and weapons. It wasn’t paranoia when a person had dealt with hitmen coming after them.
The door finally opened, revealing the confused dark-haired tomb raider. “James? What are you doing here? I thought you said you were wrapped up with bounty shit for the next few days.”
“You busy?”
“I was going over some prep for a job.” Shay frowned. “I forgot to tell you. I’ll be flying out tomorrow.”
James grunted. Was his surprise already over?
This is what I get for trying to be all slick about this shit.
“But what about today?” James pressed.
Shay shrugged. “I could spare some time. Why?”
James nodded toward his truck. “I’m gonna go wait there. Make sure you’re packing for trouble and meet me at the truck.”
“Trouble?” Shay leaned forward and lowered her voice. “How much trouble we talking?”
“Nothing we can’t handle and nothing that requires any explosive drones. Don’t worry about grenades. I’ve got a box in the backseat.”
“Do you have any sonic grenades in there?”
“No. I never use those.” He shrugged.
“I’ll bring a few.” Shay stared at him, not bothering to hide the confusion on her face. “Even though I have no fucking clue what’s going on. I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into her home.
James headed back toward the truck with a smile on his face.
Time for the perfect couples’ activity.
After fifteen minutes on the road, Shay sighed. “Are you planning to tell me what the fuck is even going on? You show up at my house unannounced, tell me to grab gear, and then don’t say shit about why or where we’re going when we start driving.”
James shrugged. He’d been thinking the last several days about his discussions in Vegas with the detectives and how they’d thought a woman who’d be with him had to be into danger. It made him think about the kind of fun that only he could provide.
Shay wouldn’t have had the jobs she’s had if she wanted to stay at home and watch movies about chicks marrying their best friends from small towns or some shit.
“I figured we could do something different,” James rumbled. “This is a surprise date.”
“Different? What’s that mean?” Shay laughed. “Surprise date? You gonna take me to a barbeque place that has a slightly different sauce?”
James shook his head. “No, no. Just figured the more shit we do together that we’re both into, the more fun we can have.” He checked the mirrors for any tails or drones before turning at an intersection.
“Yeah, I guess, but what
are you talking about here? His and hers massages? Why did I need weapons for that?”
Shit, I hope she likes this surprise.
“Leland Carmichael,” James announced. “He’s the surprise. We’ll hit Venice Beach later, but the first part is him.”
Even more confusion spread on Shay’s face. “Who the fuck is Leland Carmichael?”
“A dangerous motherfucker who has a problem with women.” James’ hands tightened around the wheel. “Level-three bounty. He’s a freelance asshole who specializes in arson and car bombs. He served a few years in prison for minor offenses, but not anything serious because he’s good at covering his tracks. More than a few witnesses have conveniently died in fires or dropped their charges, including several ex-girlfriends. Leland gets off on smacking them around, you see. But the last one managed to get some hidden video and sent that off to the cops before she went into hiding. It was enough to get the bounty, along with the other evidence the police have on him.”
Shay nodded slowly as she took in the explanation. “This guy’s level three, but you want help?”
“I’ve got a line on him. This guy’s known to have a lot of thugs helping him, and it’s good to have another person, especially since I’m not using the amulet, and I thought it’d be fun to do together.”
“So, in other words, your idea of a surprise fun thing for us to do together is to go attack some dangerous bounty with a little army?”
“Yeah.” James grunted. “For most of the shit we’ve done together, I feel like I’ve been pushing in on your world, and I get how you might not like that. But I know you can kick ass, and I want to be more backup when you take him down. Hell, you can have the bounty if you want.”
Shay rolled her eyes. “No offense, James, but level-three bounty money I could find in my couch cushions.” She gave him a wide grin. “But it still sounds like fun.”
James parked the F-350 up the street from the old warehouse. “I got lucky. My informant told me this is Leland’s base for the next few days. Fucker likes to move around a lot ever since the bounty got issued.”
Shay inspected her 9mm. “Probably a good idea. You never know when some crazy-ass bounty hunter and a tomb raider might come knocking.”
James and Shay traded grins. They exited the truck and made their way up the street.
James tapped the silver frequency jammer on his wrist. “Killing any drone feeds, but he’ll probably figure out we’re coming from that.”
Shay shrugged. “Big deal. It’s not like this is a cartel meeting. How many guys we talking about, anyway?”
“He’s got a dozen with him. I don’t know the bounty statuses on them, so we should be careful about killing them. Don’t want to make more trouble for Mack if I can avoid it.”
“A little handicap for the game, huh? Fine. I’ll disable them without killing them. It’s a good skill to practice anyway.” Shay winked. “Never know when you might need to interrogate an asshole or use a guy as a human battering ram.”
James chuckled. They closed on the rusted-out gate of the chain-link fence blocking off the warehouse.
Shay frowned and narrowed her eyes. “Oh, he’s gonna be one of those guys.”
“What are you talking…” James spotted the thin white line strung in front of the bottom of the gate. He walked backward and gestured for Shay to follow. “Guess it’s a good thing I brought a few thermite grenades.”
“Thermite? You were expecting something like this?”
James nodded. “Yeah. He’s known for shit like this. Thinks he’s a real clever asshole.”
Shay snickered. “You really know how to show a girl a good time with the grenades and death traps.”
“Well, it was either this or a movie.”
The pair backed across the street. James tossed a thermite grenade toward the gate. The bright flame ignited as it hit the ground and a few seconds later, the flame ignited the hidden explosives, and the entire gate exploded in a shower of dirt, asphalt, and twisted metal, leaving a small crater and a half-downed fence on both sides.
Shay laughed. “Just how many explosives did that asshole bury there?”
James pulled his .45 out of his holster. “I figure we watch where they walk when they come out to play. That’ll mark the safe path.”
They jogged back to the gate, their guns at the ready. Three men burst out of a side door of the warehouse. Shay lobbed a sonic grenade at them before they even lifted their guns. The grenade slammed into the ground with a high-pitched whine and the men collapsed, groaning and clutching at their ears.
She looks so damn sexy when she throws a grenade.
“We need to—” James began, but stopped as Shay burst into a sprint.
The tomb raider rushed toward several large metal barrels near the crater and leapt onto the first one. Her legs spread apart for balance she pushed with both hands on the edge to gain the momentum she needed to hop onto a higher barrel. She jumped from the top of the next barrel toward a drainpipe near the door. The tomb raider was on the ground near the men before James could even process what she’d done.
A few quick punches knocked two of the men out. She yanked up a third and stuck her 9mm against the side of his head and snarled. “Point to the safe path, asshole.”
The groaning man, his eyes half-closed, raised his arm and pointed.
“If you’re wrong, you die,” Shay promised.
He nodded.
James rushed toward Shay, using the man’s information as a guide. A few seconds later, he arrived at the side of the warehouse without exploding. Convenient.
Shay knocked the goon out and dropped him. “This is way more fun than a fucking movie.” She kicked in the door the men had come out of. “And at least we know this one isn’t trapped.” With a grin, she entered.
James rushed into the cavernous warehouse as two screams from inside tore the air. Two goons lay on the ground, clutching their bleeding legs. Shay spun, knife in hand, and planted her blade in a third man’s thigh. She yanked it out and sliced at the man’s hand, and he dropped his gun with a scream.
James ducked and rolled behind some crates when three men on the other side of the room popped up from behind a wall of boxes and opened fire. The bounty hunter tossed a flashbang at them and sprinted toward the boxes. One of the men broke cover to fire again, only to get a faceful of Brownstone’s fist for his trouble.
The man flew backward and slammed into a pile of empty crates, which collapsed on top of him. His two friends brought up their guns, but it was too late. James grabbed the weapons and yanked them out of their hands before tossing them behind him.
James grabbed both men by the neck and threw them into a nearby wall. One moaned as he broke through the weakened drywall and slumped, unconscious. The other thudded against the wall and fell to the cold concrete floor before he lost consciousness.
Shit, I didn’t even check on Shay.
He glanced her way. Shay crouched behind a box, a smile on her face as she reloaded.
Looks like she’s having a great time. Glad I chose this for our couple’s pastime.
A half-hour later, they stood in front of a locked office door on the second floor of the building. All the thugs in the warehouse had already been knocked out or fled.
Shay reloaded her pistol.
James gestured toward her face. “You’ve got some blood on your cheeks.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not mine.” She used her sleeve to wipe it off and smiled. “Better?”
“Yeah.”
Shay’s mouth twitched. “You know what’s fun about this?”
James eyed the door before turning back to Shay. “What?”
“There’s no millions of dollars on the line, no weird-ass super-magic weapons that will summon demons or upset the magical balance of power. It’s not like we’re even saving the world from some dangerous international criminal gang. It’s just some dicks we need to handle.”
James shrugged. “Before the Harriken
, I didn’t have problems with that kind of shit. If I went after some Mafia asshole or something they didn’t come and kill my dog. And, yeah, sometimes the real treasure at the end of the job is just getting a dangerous asshole off the streets.”
“Just saying. Sometimes it’s nice to get a workout where the stakes aren’t so high.”
James nodded. “Oh, I forgot to ask you earlier. What was up with that shit with the first few guys? I haven’t seen you move like that before.”
Shay winked. “I’ve been studying parkour. A guy I know convinced me it’d be a good idea. New hobby with practical use.”
“Oh, that makes sense.”
“You could always come along.” Shay snickered. “Though the idea of James Brownstone doing parkour is hilarious.”
James grunted. “I don’t want to anyway. It looks complicated as shit.”
Shay snickered. “Never change, James. Never change.” She nodded toward the door. “Have a plan?”
“He might have trapped it. I’ve got the frequencies jammed, but if there’s some mechanical shit going on, there’s nothing the gadget can do about that. I’d rather not get you blown up on our date.”
“Yeah, that would fucking suck.”
Shay wandered away from the door toward the opposite end of the metal walkway that led to the first-floor stairs. “Go ahead and kill the frequency jammer. I’ve got an idea, but I need to make a call to Peyton first. Wait there for now and make sure Leland doesn’t run.”
James shrugged and tapped the jammer off. He kept his gun aimed at the door and waited. Shay’s footsteps echoed throughout the warehouse until she left the building.
A minute passed, then two, then five.
Where is Shay going?
Something shattered inside the room, and someone yelled. A loud thump was followed by silence.
“What the fuck?”
The door swung open, and James whipped up his .45.
A smiling Shay stood on the other side. The back window to the office was broken.
The Unbelievable Mr Brownstone Omnibus Page 8