“Yeah, not exactly the kind of thing anyone wants lying around.” Shay paused as a waitress came by to pick up the Professor’s mug and hand him a new one. She looked at Shay expectantly, and Shay waved her off. “I’m good, thanks.”
The waitress departed, carefully weaving through the dense crowd that filled the pub.
Shay turned back to the Professor. “You said it hasn’t been used since the beginning of the last century?”
“Around there, yes.” The Professor furrowed his brow and nodded a second later.
“So it’s been lost since then?”
The Professor nodded. “Aye. It was in fact completely lost until last week, when I became aware through my sources that an unscrupulous sort had recovered it in Romania and was intending to smuggle it from there to the UK, and then who knows where?”
“Okay, that sounds promising. You don’t mind if I take it from this other asshole then, right?” Shay gave him a questioning look. “Not saying I’m going to kill the guy, but not gonna go out of my way to let him kill me when I grab the cobza.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The Professor offered her a bright smile. “Romania has already done that for you. You have no direct competition, or at least not yet.”
“He was executed by the government? Convenient.” Shay leaned back. “I don’t mind doing the whole ‘woman versus environment’ thing rather than ‘woman versus man.’”
“No, no. Not that government. The smuggler involved decided he was going to evade certain authorities by hiding in the Hoia Baciu Forest. Have you heard of it?”
Shay scratched her cheek. “It sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it.”
“It’s a forest in Transylvania,” the Professor explained. “It’s had a haunted reputation for quite some time, but before the gates opened, there was just the occasional sighting and that sort of thing. There was nothing particularly sinister.”
“And now that the gates are open? I’m guessing it’s a lot more sinister?”
It wouldn’t be the first place she’d traveled to with that problem. While most people treated the opening of the gates as just having a few witches, elves, and gnomes running around in public, it’d already resulted in many changes on Earth.
The Professor nodded gravely. “The level of magic in the forest ended up being far higher than many other places; even most kemanas. It’s my understanding that in the distant past, it was an area where certain dangerous experiments with portal and gate magic were performed. Several sources blame the Atlanteans, but they might have been painted as the culprits out of convenience. The truth is that the place is permanently damaged, in a sense, with fluctuating levels of magic, and even random portals opening on occasion.”
“I see,” Shay replied, taking in all the information. The more she could learn about the job, the less trouble she’d have completing it.
He gave a slight shrug. “Previously, the Silver Griffins and certain wizards associated with the Romanian government did their best to keep an eye on it without drawing more attention to it by trying to keep people out. It’s gotten steadily worse since the gates opened, and now it’s completely out of hand. Although the Griffins were destroyed, no one has a problem simply informing people that the place is too dangerous for most to travel to. That’s helped keep people safe, even though the underlying problem hasn’t been dealt with.”
Shay leaned forward. “Break down what you mean by ‘it’s completely out of hand.’ I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”
“Many different things. Strange portals open at random. The place is also infested with dangerous magical creatures that don’t seem to care or even know what century it is. Electromagnetic interference makes most technology people try to use in it fail. It’s so bad that the Romanian government has closed off the entire area, and they have the military patrolling the perimeter to keep people out and the creatures in. They’re looking into ways to stabilize it because it’s feared that any attacks on the area might result in an even worse situation. The Veil is thin in many places in the world, but usually only on particular days, not all the time.”
Shay chuckled. “Damn, when I wanted a big job, I wasn’t thinking you were going to send me into hell. I have to admit it sounds fun!”
“Oh, it’s not hell. Or, none of the creatures are demons, anyway.” The Professor waggled his eyebrows. “But, aye, Miz Carson, it’s extremely dangerous. As such, I’d suggest James accompany you on this job. You might be able to handle all the threats, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a strong backup.”
“I was planning to ask him anyway. He’s been looking for a major ass-kicking opportunity.” Shay smiled. “And this sounds right up his alley. My only question is, how the hell do I find some instrument in the middle of a whacked-out forest filled with dangerous monsters.”
The Professor laughed. “The Fixer gave me an artifact that will help on this particular job.”
“What’s so funny about that?”
“It’s ridiculous-looking. You’ll see. It’s a little chicken figurine with a rotating base. He’s attuned it to track the cobza.”
Shay blinked. “Not to be a bitch… Who am I kidding, I am just being a bitch. Why isn’t he going and grabbing it himself?”
The Professor smirked. “He’s currently involved in other important matters. You do have to keep in mind, Miz Carson, that the Fixer is responsible for the entire planet, and there are a lot of dangerous things going on all the time on Earth.”
Shay pulled out her phone to tap in a quick text to Peyton. “This sounds like a good job. When did you need it done?”
“Sooner rather than later.”
Shay frowned and nodded. “Could you give me a few days? I think I’ll need them to get James onboard.”
The Professor nodded. “That’s fine.”
“By the way, you said the military is patrolling the forest. Do you know of any places that are weaker in the perimeter? I’d rather not have a shootout with a bunch of soldiers.”
The Professor pulled out his own phone and sent her some information. “Don’t worry. I have some contacts there who will be able to get you past the patrols, but of course, those military forces won’t come and help you if you’re in trouble. You’ll be on your own.”
“Fine. The only things worth being afraid of in that forest will be James and me.” Shay grinned.
Chapter Ten
Trey relaxed in a corner booth at the White Sun, just soaking in the light jazz playing over the speakers. He was taking his time as he sipped his Manhattan and checking out everybody in the room. Although he was now full-time in Vegas, he still couldn’t identify every major criminal on sight, and that was a hole in his knowledge he needed to correct to provide the best leadership for the local Brownstone Agency.
The more I know, the less I’ll be surprised.
Kathy chatted quietly with a man at the bar, laughing with her hand on his arm. Trey was always impressed by the differences in how she and Tyler operated, but they both got useful information in the end. He respected them both for that. Even James had to rely on information brokers for his job, proving how critical they were to a good bounty hunter.
I might never be as great at this job as the big man, but there’s no reason I can’t get close.
A suited man with slick-backed hair entered the White Sun and looked around. Trey recognized the new arrival. He was Marco Esposito, a local man; son of the leader of the Esposito Family.
Well, look what we have here.
The bounty hunter didn’t bother to hide his frown. He hadn’t had any trouble with the Mafia in a few months, but his last few major dealings with them hadn’t left him with much trust in their ability not to stir up trouble. Plus, every once in a while, one of their guys gave him a dirty look or made some annoying comment that reminded him they weren’t on good terms.
I hope those fuckers have learned their lesson. I’m already tired of dealing with their shit. If they come at me a
gain, maybe I won’t be so nice next time.
The mobster continued scanning the room until his gaze landed on the bounty hunter. A slight smile followed as he walked toward Trey, his stride easy and loose. He didn’t look like he was preparing for a fight.
This is promising shit.
Trey sighed and shook his head, unsure. If Esposito started any trouble in the White Sun, Trey would need to make an example of him, if only to make sure that everyone knew that just because the big man wasn’t there, that didn’t mean they could push the Brownstone Agency around. The value of the place as an information source would go down if people didn’t believe the neutrality would be defended, too.
Esposito stopped beside the booth and offered Trey a pleasant smile. The man had blindingly white teeth.
Damn. He must use those to light up the road at night.
“Mr. Garfield. We haven’t met, but I’m Marco Esposito.” He extended his hand.
“I know who you are.” Trey narrowed his eyes and gave the other man’s hand a light shake. “The only real question is why the fuck you are here and talking to me? I guess that’s two questions.”
The mobster chuckled. “I like you. None of this fake politeness bullshit. No wonder you work for Brownstone.” He nodded at the seat opposite Trey. “I’d like to join you to discuss certain matters. I think you’ll find this interesting to listen to and at least think about. But I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Trey’s gaze flicked around the room. There were a few other men from various Families and factions present, but none seemed to be paying him or Esposito particular attention. If this was some sort of trap, it wasn’t obvious, and the meeting wasn’t considered noteworthy enough by others to require close personal scrutiny.
“I don’t mind talking to any man who just wants to drink with me,” Trey replied evenly.
“Good.” Esposito sat and folded his hands in front of him. “First off, let me note that I’m aware that you’ve had some unpleasant dealings with some of the local Family men. Obviously, each of our groups has its own concerns and goals, but everyone now mutually agrees that it was a mistake to antagonize you—and our Families don’t always agree on things.” He chuckled.
Trey snorted. “You’re damned right it was a mistake. So, what, you here to apologize and shit? Kind of took a long time, don’t you think?”
Not gonna be petty, but also can’t let them think I’m too “live and let lie.”
“While I do apologize, that’s not why I’m here.” Esposito smiled. “I’m here instead to talk about mutually beneficial opportunities, things would benefit both you and us. In the end, we’re both businessmen, right? So that’s what we should be focusing on: business.”
Trey furrowed his brow. “Opportunities? What opportunities?”
“Yes. You see, we Family men understand and respect strength. We also understand and respect people who keep their word. Say what you will about Brownstone and his agency, no one’s ever said that James Brownstone doesn’t keep his word, even if it involves him saying he’s going to fuck someone up.”
Trey chuckled. “Yeah, that’s the big man, and that’s how we run things. We ain’t going around looking for fights to start. We just go after people who already have made a big enough mess to get themselves a bounty.”
Esposito leaned forward, a plastic smile on his face. “That’s the thing. Your agency is still new in town, and I get it—you’ve got money to make. We could help with that.”
Trey frowned. “You could help us with that? How? We don’t need leads. We go after public bounties.”
The other man’s smile never wavered. “I understand that, but we could provide you with opportunities and point you at certain people making things unpleasant for people of concern here in the fine city of Las Vegas. For example, we might be able to highlight where certain bounties might be when you otherwise have trouble finding them. You take them down and get your money, and people concerned with local stability benefit. That’s not objectionable, now, is it?”
Trey snorted. “What? Let me get this straight. Are you saying the Brownstone Agency should form some sort of motherfucking alliance with the Vegas Mafia?”
Esposito sighed. “I’m just saying that we both represent businesses interested in making money. You people are bounty hunters, not cops, so perhaps certain accommodations could be made that would be mutually beneficial to all parties, especially in terms of taking certain rewards to perhaps focus on not every available bounty. A short-term loss for a long-term profit is a valid business strategy.”
Oh, hell no. Is he saying what I think he’s saying? Time to set some shit straight.
“You said your name is Marco Esposito?” Trey asked.
“Yes, and call me Marco. All my friends do.”
We ain’t friends yet, bitch, but I’ll play nice so you’ll listen to what I have to say.
Trey cleared his throat. “Let me break it down for you then, Marco. I was under the impression already that everyone local understood how this shit worked, and I’m kind of frustrated that I have to explain it again, especially for someone who seems like he’s a pretty smart guy.”
Marco shrugged. “Go ahead, break it down for me. This ought to be interesting.” He looked more curious than annoyed.
“It ain’t no thing. It’s like you said. We ain’t 5-0. We’re bounty hunters, but that’s the thing. Because we’re bounty hunters, we go after anyone with a bounty, because anyone with a bounty has already fucked up enough and made enough noise that they need to be handled directly.” Trey picked up his drink and took a sip. “And once we’re committed to going after a bounty, we ain’t gonna take money to look the other way just because you’re Mafia, if that’s what you were getting at. The minute the Brownstone Agency does that shit, it looks like we’re taking sides, and that causes all sorts of problems. You know what I’m saying?”
Marco frowned, the first significant displeasure he’d shown since starting the conversation. “I think you’re pushing away some very good opportunities for us to be friends. I believe you will want to think about this very carefully, or perhaps bring it up with Mr. Brownstone.”
Trey laughed. “You’re tripping if you think that James Brownstone is gonna take bribes to ignore a bounty, and he’s told me a shitload of times that I can run Vegas however I need to.”
“I see.” Marco’s mouth twitched. “That’s unfortunate.”
Trey sighed. “Let me make this shit clear. I may have knocked some heads around, and some local people learned why they shouldn’t fuck with me, but I ain’t shit compared to James Brownstone. Hell, that was why other fuckers came after me, and if this shit is about threatening me, well, learn your damned lesson, bitches. Even if you manage to push me aside, you’re not gonna want to deal with the big man.” He gestured toward the door.
The mobster quickly recovered his smile. “Let me give you a scenario, Mr. Garfield, so I can make sure we’re both on the same page. I think we can still reach an accommodation that’s mutually beneficial as long as each party understands the other.”
“Fine. Go ahead.” Trey leaned back and crossed his arms.
“You’re not a cop. Neither is your boss.” Marco glanced over at a single uniformed officer on the far end of the bar. “So it is our understanding, which has only been reinforced by this conversation, that if a Family man hasn’t threatened you and doesn’t have a bounty, you wouldn’t have any interest in them. Is that an accurate statement of the situation?”
Trey lifted his chin and gave a slight nod. “Yeah, that’s true. You keep your shit clean in public and avoid bounties, and you won’t have a Brownstone problem unless you go looking for one. We’ve got better shit to do than run around messing with every fucker out there.”
“And the Harriken? Everyone says James Brownstone didn’t used to care about those sorts of groups, and although there was an organizational bounty when he finally took them down, initially there were mostly only low-level bountie
s.”
“Because they disrespected the big man, and I’d think y’all would understand.” Trey laughed. “Those Harriken bitches were the dumbest motherfuckers on the planet. He would have left their asses alone after the first time if they hadn’t come at him again.”
“I see.” A combination of concern and slight confusion played out over Marco’s face.
“Here’s the deal.” Trey picked up his drink and took a sip. “You know what the big man wants out of life?”
Marco furrowed his brow. “A lot of money, I’d assume. That’s where we can help him.”
“Shit, no. He don’t give a fuck about that. If you had seen his house, you’d be asking yourself, ‘How does a motherfucker who has that much money live in some tiny house in the middle of a shitty neighborhood?” Trey held up a hand. “And I know it is a shitty neighborhood because that’s where I was born and raised and lived most of my life. Sure, the place is now getting better, but that’s just the last year or so.”
“I don’t get it. If he doesn’t care about money, what does he care about? He’s not a justice freak, or he wouldn’t be so obsessed with only going after bounties. What? Are you saying Brownstone doesn’t care about shit except for the thrill of the hunt?” Marco sat up with a disturbed look on his face.
Oh, so you fuckers thought you had him all worked out, is that it?
Trey almost laughed in his face. The idea of playing James up as some ruthless coldblooded hunter appealed, but keeping the Vegas situation reasonable and stable was at the top of his list of concerns. He wasn’t about to sign some treaty with the Mafia, but if he could keep them on their best behavior, it’d make things better for both the agency and the cops. It was just a matter of managing expectations on both sides.
Shadow Of The Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 16) Page 9