“How do you know he’s worried?” Davion asked. “I mean, no offense, brah, but this ass is trying to extort money from the Granite Ghost. He’s either crazy, or he’s got balls of steel. Either way, it doesn’t sound like the kind of dude who worries about stuff. I’d be wetting my pants if I had called you up and said the kind of stuff he said to you.”
“He made a mistake with the drop-off location. That reveals everything I need to know about him.”
“Amazing Dwayne’s?” Davion sounded dubious. “What’s so special about there? The pizza is trash, brah. I went to this party for the kid of this girl I was dating a few years back, and I was like, ‘Man, why you feeding kids this pizza?’”
“I know he’s afraid since the cowardly fucker is making me meet him in a kids’ restaurant,” James explained. He checked his mirrors in case any suspicious wizards had been stupid enough to wander over to the apartment. Two young men stumbled past his truck on the sidewalk, swaying and red-faced, too drunk to care enough to look his way.
“He knows I can’t make a serious move there,” he continued, “but that also means he’s gonna be vulnerable and make some sort of appearance, or a lackey will. I need whatever evidence you can get without tipping him off. If we screw this up, he might kill Calista. The fucker is gonna die either way, but I’m saving her.”
“Got you.” Davion hummed for a few seconds. “The way I see it, this kidnapper asshole can’t be that good at infomancy if he’s afraid to take his payment in crypto coins, which means if I just do this old-fashioned and avoid any scrying, I might be able to pick something up we can use. I’ll hack every camera in the area. I’ll also get a bunch of drones going at different altitudes, maybe even hit up a few satellites, but just so you know, this might get the attention of the alphabet agencies. I’m willing to do it, but I don’t know how much heat you want.”
“I don’t give a shit.” James grunted. “Those fuckers are all afraid of me, and I can explain it to them later. This wizard is screwing with me, my orphanage, and my parish, and if he was trying to pay Calista to seduce me, that means that fucker thought he could blackmail me, and fuck with my marriage, too. If Shay wasn’t so pregnant, she would be the one fucking them up, and you don’t want an angry Shay after your ass.”
Davion whistled. “Damn. When you put it like that, I almost feel sorry for the epic-level beat down he has coming. Almost. But you need to teach him a lesson.”
“I will,” James rumbled. “But I need your help to do it. So, can you help?”
“I’m going to do my best, brah, but if this guy is as careful as you say, he might be prepared for all that. There are plenty of spells he can use to beat cameras and shit, and if I can’t go full magic, I can’t guarantee results. I’m not trying to be all humble, I’m being real since that girl’s life is in danger.” Davion sighed.
James furrowed his brow as he considered the possibilities. “Understood, and I appreciate it. You just prepare to do your part. I don’t want the whole agency involved in this shit because it’ll get too dangerous for Calista, but I’ve got someone else who might be able to help.”
Shay sighed on the couch and shook her head as James finished explaining the situation. “I hate being right all the time.” She pointed to her stomach. “If I wasn’t about to pop, I’d be on my way to arm up, track this guy down, and cut off his dick for trying to fuck with our family.”
This fucker doesn’t know how lucky he is it’s just me coming for him. At least I’ll finish him off quickly.
James paced the living room. Thomas followed him and wagged his tail, picking up on the energy but not the anger. “I wish this was simple stalker shit like you said first. This is the problem when I don’t beat any fuckers down for a while. People get the idea they can come at me. That they can come at us. I’m gonna kill this fucker either way, but if I drop that money off, I’ve got no guarantee he’ll let Calista go. She didn’t do anything to deserve getting involved, other than knowing me. But I don’t know an easy way to beat this guy. He’s prepared more than most people I deal with.”
Shay ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” James frowned. “I know what you said, but you can’t get anywhere near this. It’s too much of a risk.”
“That’s not what I was thinking about. I’m not exactly at my most agile right now, even if I’ve been keeping in shape.” Shay grinned. “I’ve got something else in mind. Remember that tomb raid under the abandoned nuke silo in Nebraska I did with Lily a few years back?”
James nodded slowly, not sure where she was going with her train of thought. “Yeah, there was some stuff you thought might be alien, but it turned out just to be, like, fossilized dragon crap. I don’t think dragon shit’s gonna help.”
Shay made a face. “I’ll have you know it has a lot of value to certain magicals, and I don’t have any of that left. We made a lot of money off that job.” She waved a hand. “But forget dragons. Remember what else I found? Unless your near-perfect memory is suddenly failing you?”
James shrugged. “You just said you found a few other minor artifacts. You didn’t explain more, and I didn’t care enough to ask. I always figure if I need to know, you’ll tell me.”
“They were more than just minor artifacts,” Shay explained. “When I got them IDed, a few of them seemed like they would be useful, so I kept them, but the particular situations in which they might come in handy haven’t come up yet. We’ve both got a lot of ways to track people, and one of them in particular is focused on that sort of thing.”
“What is it?” James asked, curious now. “And how can it help us?”
Shay’s grin grew wider, almost vulpine. “Don’t worry. You’ll find out when we go grab it from the warehouse. I’m sure you’ll love it. As for how, it’ll allow you to track something without the magical signature of the beacon being detected by most common types of magic. I don’t know how it works, exactly. Some sort of dangerous magic was involved in its creation, and from what I understand, we can only get a few uses out of it before it dies.”
James grunted. “Sounds annoying.”
“Sure, but it’ll work. And this is as good a time as any to use it.” Shay shrugged. “Do you want to save that girl, or do you want to have an annoyance-free day?”
“Fine. Got anything you can think of that I can use to protect Calista at a distance?” James asked. “When this shit gets rough, the first thing they’ll do is grab her to use as a human shield. I might not be able to get close enough to give her a ring or a necklace or anything like that.”
Shay tapped her lips, looking down as she thought, then snapped her fingers. “I’m so fucking brilliant. If we weren’t already married, you’d have to marry me because I’m so damned impressive.”
“Huh?” James narrowed his eyes. A cocky Shay was a dangerous Shay, but that was a good thing, given who the target of her wrath was.
She winked. “I’ve got a better idea than shielding her. We’re going to give this jolly asshole a reason to not care about her at all. That way, you can do your thing without any worries.”
A smiling banker placed the last stack of wrapped bills in James’ open briefcase. Two security guards stood outside the small room, hands on the grips of their guns. The door was locked, although considering who was making the withdrawal, a robbery would be suicidal.
“And that makes two million, Mr. Brownstone.” The banker licked his lips, obvious excitement in his eyes. “All in cash. Would you like me to count it again?” It sounded more like pleading than an inquiry.
I wonder how often this guy gets to personally handle this much cash?
James shook his head. “I watched. It’s all there.” He reached across the table and closed the briefcase. “Thanks for getting this taken care of so quickly.”
“Of course.” The man placed a hand over his heart. “When I heard that it was you who needed the help, I personally pledged to make sure we would get thi
s taken care of as quickly as possible. I understand a man of your background often is involved in complicated situations that don’t lend themselves to normal procedures and times. Your license helps facilitate things, but I must again remind you that this transaction will be reported to the Treasury Department.” He looked contrite. “I apologize if that causes you any inconvenience, but unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do about that, even with your class-six license. It’s unlikely, but they might end up contacting you.”
“That’s fine. This isn’t anything they’ll be interested in.”
Yeah. It’s more an FBI or PDA thing. This shit will all be over by the time the government comes sniffing around, and I doubt they’re gonna pitch a fit about a dead kidnapper and extortionist.
The banker tilted his head, his eyes locked on the briefcase “I’m not one to tell you how to do your business, Mr. Brownstone, but you are aware that there’s no DNA lock on this case, right? Most of our clients who make high-value withdrawals either use couriers with such cases or provide their own. I understand that you’re, well, you, but accidents happen. Things can get misplaced, and this is a hell of a thing to misplace.”
James shook his head. “A DNA lock would complicate things. I need this to be easily accessible and checkable for what I have in mind.”
The banker leaned forward with a sly smile, his eyes darting back and forth. “You can level with me,” he whispered. “Is this for some super-special bounty mission? Maybe to bribe an evil government official in a corrupt government so you can take down some evil necromancer?” He winked. “You can tell me. Consider it a banker’s confidence. I won’t tell anyone, not even the feds.”
It’s been a while since I beat down a necromancer. And it’s been a long time since anyone tried to make me pay them a bribe.
“Nope,” James offered. “Not a bounty. This money isn’t leaving LA while I have it. I’m not taking any trips right now. My wife’s about to give birth.”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten about that.” The man sighed and sat up. His breath caught. “Wait. I know what it is.” He pointed at James. “You’re going to pay for some rare meat. Something imported from Oriceran, perhaps? Barbequed unicorn or something?”
James made a face. He had no idea what unicorn tasted like, but there were certain things he wouldn’t eat, regardless of how tasty they might be.
Shit. Now I’m wondering what unicorn tastes like. Thanks.
“It’d have to be the best damned barbeque in existence for me to pay two million dollars for the meat,” he explained. He glanced down at the case. He needed to feed the man something before he spread too many rumors that might complicate things or get the police or government involved. “I’m thinking about buying a…” He frowned. “A yacht. Yeah, a yacht. I’ve got a lot of money, right? This is a down payment. I heard on some channel that yachts are a good investment, and I’ve been trying to figure out ways to spread my investments around. It might be fun to sail around the world one summer or something like that, you know?”
“I see. I suppose I can understand that.” The banker sighed, disappointment spreading across his face in a creeping wave over the banal explanation for the withdrawal. “If that’s all you’re doing, I should point out we could have easily set up an electronic transfer for you. It would be far safer than carrying two million dollars in a briefcase without a DNA lock.” His eyes widened. “Wait. Does it have a magic lock?”
“Nope, it’s just a plain-old briefcase. I bought it at an office supply store before I came here. The one about six blocks down.”
“Oh. I see.” The banker’s expression turned dour with James’ continued slaying of his fantasies.
“As for an electronic transfer, I like the personal touch.” James pulled the briefcase over to him and patted it. “Nothing like slapping a case full of cash in front of someone.”
Yeah, a certain wizard’s gonna experience my personal touch.
Chapter Seven
The magnificent cacophony created by scores of yelling children assaulted James’ ears as he stepped inside Amazing Dwayne’s. It was his first visit, and he hoped it would be his last. He’d never been more grateful that Alison was already a teenager when he’d first met her. It’d saved him from the sheer annoyance of concentrated childhood joy like the pizza place.
A sickening realization crept in, twisting his stomach. Some challenges couldn’t be met with pure force. His new child wouldn’t come out a teenager. He might be forced to come to annoying places like this in the future. A chat with Shay about forbidden restaurants needed to be placed on his near-term agenda. They should stick to barbeque joints.
High possibility of collateral damage from any initiation of battle, Whispy sent. Human offspring lack sufficient tactical and situational awareness to minimize danger.
James had bonded the symbiont on his way. Mr. Jolly Wizard hadn’t specifically warned him not to use any of his personal tools, and there was no way he was walking into the situation without his primary advantage. The whole thing might come down to him having to take a hit for Calista.
I know all that, James thought. We’re not fighting anyone in here. We’re just here to drop off the money and, if we’re lucky, catch sight of the bastard who thinks he can jerk me around. Then we’ll track him down, and we’ll kill him.
Recommend quick termination.
Yeah. Recommendation accepted.
Whispy’s satisfaction filtered into James’ mind. The symbiont might be obsessed with improvement above everything else, but his basic bloodthirst would always remain.
The briefcase felt light in James’ hand, even with the two million dollars inside. He’d thought about pulling some sort of stunt and filling it with paper, but he doubted that would fool the wizard. A couple million to save a life wasn’t necessarily too expensive, but there was no way he could let a magical kidnapper run around thinking he could kidnap people and extort money from James Brownstone. Like the wizard had said, two million dollars could have easily been twenty million. The principle remained the same.
The loud restaurant was divided into two major sections, along with a small counter in the back where you put in orders for pizzas and grabbed your fountain drinks. An arcade with different games was separated by a short wall from a dining area filled with long blue tables. A few gaps allowed passage between the two sections.
The arcade games were a mixture of VR, with headsets and gloves awaiting players, and less immersive entertainment with more basic interfaces. Other games filled a smaller section near the back. Two children batted a glowing disc back and forth over a translucent beach scene. He wasn’t sure if it was a hologram, magic, or something else.
My kid won’t need that shit. My kid will have fun on the obstacle course I’m gonna build in the backyard.
James frowned. He should have started building it several months ago, but it didn’t matter. It’d take a while for the kid to learn to walk anyway. He had time.
Children and their haggard-looking parents sat at the tables munching on different types of pizza. They all watched four wooden automatons playing Oriceran instruments. Despite the exaggerated cartoonish features and bright colors of the automatons, one was obviously supposed to be a flute-playing Light Elf woman. Another was a gnome male wearing a top hat. He blew into a reed atop a strange pyramidal wooden instrument that sounded like the bastard child of an oboe and a trombone. The band included a rat-like Willen playing a single hand drum and a centaur plucking an instrument that approximated a lute. The gnome and the Willen sang a loud song about friendship. According to art on the wall, the Willen character was supposed to be the eponymous Amazing Dwayne.
An illustrated story near the front informed James that the Amazing Dwayne had traveled all the way from Oriceran after getting a taste of pizza, and now wanted to “share the joy of song and pizza” with Earth children.
They look fake. Is that because it’s easier to do that kind of thing, or do they want to make peop
le forget this is actually magic and not robots? I’m surprised a gnome would make something like this, but maybe he figured it was a good way to make a quick buck.
A smiling young woman stepped forward. Her uniform was a riot of colors and covered with what James assumed were drawings of the Amazing Dwayne’s band. Her name tag read Devon.
Only a flicker of hesitation appeared on her face before she announced, “Welcome to Amazing Dwayne’s, a touch of magic, and pizza so delicious it must be enchanted. Are we a party of one today, or are you waiting for more people?” She didn’t give any indication she recognized James. Her gaze dropped to the briefcase, suspicion sneaking into her happy façade.
“I’m not here for pizza,” James replied, menace seeping into his voice. He was too annoyed to lie. “I’m looking for someone. I’m supposed to give them something here.” He raised the case.
The woman winced. He felt bad. It wasn’t her fault he’d been forced into a loud kids’ restaurant for a ransom drop-off. If anything, he felt pity for her. Having to spend eight to twelve hours a day around hundreds of screaming kids was something that might even challenge Whispy’s adaptation ability.
“Um, okay, sir,” Devon offered slowly, glancing over her shoulder at another employee. “I suppose you could sit…” She looked around and pointed to an empty table—the second closest to the entrance.
Did Mr. Jolly Wizard do something to keep the table clear?
“There for a few minutes,” she continued, “but if it’s going to be more than that, we’re going to have to at least ask you to buy a drink. This isn’t a park.” She squinted, a flicker of confusion passing over her face.
“Fine,” James rumbled. He stepped past her. Small children swarmed past him on their way to their waving parents in the dining area. With a grunt, he sat down at the table and set the briefcase on the top. He alternated between watching the entrance and surveying the restaurant. The table didn’t offer great visibility. Another plan, perhaps.
Road Trip: BBQ Delivered with Attitude (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 20) Page 6