One Epic Ring: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 14)

by Michael Anderle

  She reached the first ticket booth and snaked around the side, achieving decent cover.

  Now that James was closer, he could see she wore a small backpack over her white jacket along with black tights, a mesh tank top, and sneakers.

  It’s like she knew she was gonna have to run. More practical clothes than the dress she was in last time we met.

  Addie reached into her jacket and pulled out a pistol. She whipped a few quick shots around the corner, but the barrage from her pursuers forced her back. A quick sprint sent her to the next ticket booth.

  James fired his .45 at the men as he arrived at a ticket booth. Two of them fell to the ground screaming and the remaining men scattered, half rushing in Addie’s direction and the others at him. Their shots flew wild, no one aiming well in their panic.

  Pathetic. These aren’t pros if one guy dying makes them lose their shit. Maybe just some cocky mobsters who aren’t used to dealing with real trouble.

  James grinned at the thought and flattened himself against the wall of the ticket booth. Bullets whizzed past, and a few ripped through.

  Good thing no one has a big gun.

  He ducked around the wall and squeezed off a few rounds at the charging crew. Another of the thugs took two rounds to the chest and fell. The bounty hunter turned and fired at the crew pursuing Addie and nailed a surprised man in the head.

  Addie zigzagged and fired wildly as she sprinted toward James’ position. He kept up his cover fire and the thugs ducked behind other ticket booths, several shouting. The courier dove and rolled as another few rounds of bullets came her way and ended up a few feet from James with nothing worse than a slight tear in her tights.

  The lithe courier sprang to her feet with practiced ease. “Sorry about the lack of warning, Mr. Brownstone. They rolled up on me before I could get a message off.” Her cheeks colored. “Kind of embarrassing.”

  “Shit happens, and fuckers can get the drop on anyone.” James grunted. “Any idea who they are?”

  Several more bullets perforated their booth.

  Addie shrugged. “Assholes? They didn’t introduce themselves. The minute they pulled up, I got out of my car and started running. I’m pretty good at knowing when to run and when to stand and snark. Maybe in Bounty Hunter Land you always know who you’re dealing with, but as a high-end courier, you’d be surprised how often random strangers try to kill you. I take it in stride these days.” She patted the backpack. “The important thing is the cargo.”

  More bullets pelted the booth.

  “It’s not so different for me,” James responded.

  During a lull in enemy shots, he popped from cover to fire. A cocky thug had left his cover and received several rounds in the chest for his arrogance.

  The bounty hunter ejected his magazine and reloaded. “Only seven left. I don’t know if they’re idiots who should have more discipline or brave fuckers for not cutting and running.”

  Addie fired a few quick shots of her own around the corner and laughed. “Yeah, this is not what I’d call a fun day, and I’m a big believer in smart people understanding that discretion is the better part of valor.” She nodded at her backpack. “Don’t worry, I’ve got the items. I’d give them to you, but we still need to do the DNA verification, so I can’t just hand them over.”

  James snorted. “I’m helping you in a gunfight! Doesn’t that prove anything?”

  “Verification is how I do things, big boy.” Addie fired a few more times and her gun ran dry. She yanked a new magazine out of her jacket and slapped it in. “Don’t have a huge number of spare mags, but don’t worry. If they kill me, you can just take the backpack and run. Might have some trouble with the locks, though.”

  “I’m just gonna finish this shit so you can give me the crap.” James moved toward her. “Switch places with me, and lay down some cover fire. It’s time I showed these fuckers who they’re dealing with.”

  Addie circled around James and nodded, lifting her gun with both hands.

  A few more bullets ripped through the ticket booth. There were now enough holes that they could see movement through the back wall.

  “Three,” James began, “two, one…”

  Addie aimed around the corner and sent round after round toward the men clustered at the far booth.

  I wish I had a grenade on me. It’d be easy to end this shit then.

  James took his opportunity and rushed toward the next closest booth. He didn’t fire, instead holstering his pistol and jumping. His hands caught the edge of the angled roof, and with a yank, James pulled himself on top of the booth. While Addie continued firing, James rushed forward and jumped onto the next roof.

  The confused men hesitated, some looking up at James and others still engaging Addie, which was a mistake. That cost one of the men his life as the courier shot him in the neck.

  The loud thud of James’ mass of muscle landing on the top of their ticket booth forced the surviving men to focus on the approaching bounty hunter. He didn’t open fire or slow before hurling himself off the top and slamming a fist into one of the men on his way down. The thug crashed into two of his friends, and all three collapsed with groans.

  James threw an uppercut into the next closest man. The target flew backward, his head hitting the wall behind him with a loud pop. He sank to the ground, his head at an odd angle and his eyes locked in a death stare.

  The bounty hunter barreled into the remaining men and tackled them to the hard asphalt. One of the man’s eyes rolled up in the back of his head and blood leaked from the back of his split skull. A few more hard punches sent his friend to the same fate.

  The survivors disentangled themselves from James’ first victim as he pulled his .45. He squeezed the trigger one time for each man, putting bullets into their heads.

  He didn’t know these men or why they were after Addie’s cargo, and he didn’t care. They were fucking with him picking up Shay’s engagement ring; that was all he needed to know.

  James chuckled. Weddings and marriage were the ultimate in complicated.

  He waited, gun out. The men all looked like normal if well-dressed human thugs, the type you might see any random organized crime group send out, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility that someone might start regenerating or turn out to be a secret gnome.

  Nothing like that happened. They all stayed conveniently dead.

  “Huh. Sometimes shit does work out.” James shrugged. “You okay, Addie?” he shouted.

  “I didn’t get hit,” she called back.

  “You see anyone else?”

  Addie poked her head around the corner of her booth. “Looks clear. Thanks, Mr. Brownstone.” She took a deep breath and jogged toward him. “Things got a little tense there. I prefer outrunning people in my car.” She nodded toward the Porsche in the distance. “I was half worried they’d shoot it up.”

  James grimaced. “I can relate to that.” He nudged a body with a foot. “You need to search these guys or anything?”

  Addie furrowed her brow. “Why?”

  “To grab IDs, figure out who sent them—that kind of shit.” James shrugged.

  “Don’t really care who they are.” Addie squatted by a man with a frown. “Assholes like this generally don’t care if they’ve messed up a delivery.” She grinned up at him, amusement in her one green eye and one blue eye. “Couriers aren’t like bounty hunters, Mr. Brownstone. Even a lot of criminal types might need our services, so they don’t tend to hold grudges, even if some of their guys get killed trying to mess with one of us.”

  “You do jobs for criminals?”

  Addie stood and nodded. “I don’t choose them, but I do take a lot of blind jobs. The Professor likes to fill me in on details, but not every client does. If someone hands me a box and tells me not to look inside, I don’t look inside. That’s rule number one of being a high-risk courier. But now that we’re done with that…unpleasantness, let’s get down to business.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small
metallic square plate. “Your thumb, please, Mr. Brownstone.”

  James grunted and placed his thumb on the DNA reader. After a faint burn, it beeped.

  Addie smiled. “And the secondary passphrase.”

  He stared at her. “Even though you just did a DNA scan?”

  “Yep. One time I was on a job in Bogota and the primary passphrase was verified, DNA matched, everything. Then at the last minute, the guy doesn’t know the secondary passphrase.” Addie shrugged. “Turns out there was a spell on him, and some warlock was ready to snatch the package. So verification, please.”

  James sighed. “Hyundai is better than Ford.” He groaned. “Fucking Professor. I should make him drink nothing but fucking tea for a month for making me say that kind of shit.”

  Addie stuck the DNA reader back in her pocket and unzipped her backpack. She pulled out a small black case with a built-in DNA reader on it and placed her thumb on it. The box clicked, and she opened it to reveal a small but tasteful jade pendant and a matching ring nestled in velvet.

  She smiled. “Your items, Mr. Brownstone.”

  James plucked out the jewelry and put the pieces into his jacket pocket. Addie closed the box and put it back into her backpack before retrieving another small box and handing it to Brownstone.

  “That’s for the Professor,” she explained. “It’s DNA-keyed to him already.”

  They both snapped their heads around as another blue SUV roared into the parking lot. It braked hard and swerved to the side, then the doors flew open and several more suited men jumped out, guns at the ready.

  Addie sighed and zipped up her backpack. “Never ends on some days. You’d think if they sent twelve guys, they would have figured that would be enough.”

  James handed the box back to her. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” He marched toward the men as they hopped out of the vehicle. All six pointed their guns at him.

  “Woah, Mr. Brownstone,” Addie called. “Uh, what the hell are you doing?”

  James shrugged and continued walking. “Feeding my adoring fucking public.” He stopped about ten yards from the men, who watched him warily. “Do you know who the fuck I am?” he shouted.

  The men frowned and exchanged looks. They kept their guns trained on him.

  One of the men’s faces twitched, and his gun wavered. “That’s James Brownstone. Fuck.”

  “Seriously?” one of the other men asked. “No way that’s him. The boss didn’t say anything about Brownstone being involved. Why would he even care?”

  “Because the courier was carrying shit for me.” James pointed at the nearest pile of bodies. “You think those fuckers killed themselves?” He gestured to Addie. “Or that she killed them all?”

  Several of the men visibly swallowed or paled. Several more cursed under their breath.

  James grunted. “Don’t know who you are. Don’t fucking care. I came here to pick something up and a bunch of those assholes were fucking with the courier making the delivery, which makes me think they were going to steal shit that belongs to me. Now you’ve got to ask yourself an important question: do you want to be the assholes who try to steal from James Brownstone?”

  “Fuck,” one of the men shouted. “This isn’t worth it.” He holstered his gun and climbed back into the car.

  The driver glared at him. “Come on, we have our orders from the boss. It’s just one guy.”

  “I’m sure that was what the Harriken said,” another man commented and stepped into the SUV.

  “And the Council,” a third offered before retreating.

  Two of the three remaining men shook their heads and holstered their weapons before climbing back into the SUV. Only the red-faced driver remained, but even he’d lowered his gun.

  “Come on, Brownstone,” the man shouted, “maybe we can make a deal. I don’t know what that bitch is carrying, but we don’t need all of it. We didn’t come here to steal from you. We’ve just got a job to do. Nothing personal.”

  “Stealing from me is fucking personal.” James flexed his fingers at his sides. “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t like killing people who don’t have bounties. It’s a waste of time, but I make an exception for people who fuck with me and make my day more annoying.”

  “Fuck it. It’s not worth the trouble to fuck with you, Brownstone. My boss will understand.” The driver frowned and holstered his weapon. “I’m gonna tell him you killed those guys though.”

  James shrugged. “Big fucking deal. I did.”

  The driver shook his head, jumped into the vehicle, and slammed the door. A few seconds later, the SUV peeled out of the parking lot.

  “That’s some proper respect there,” James rumbled.

  “Damn!” Addie walked to his side. “You basically just yelled at those guys and made them run. I think I’m more impressed by that than the guys you killed.” She held out the box.

  James took the box. “The guys I killed were dumbasses. The guys who ran were smart. It’s like you said—sometimes you need to know when to run.”

  “Thanks anyway, Mr. Brownstone. Remember, if you ever need a courier, the Professor knows how to get hold of me. I like your style.” Addie waved and jogged toward her Porsche, then stopped and ran toward the bodies. “Probably going to need keys to move the SUVs.” She laughed.

  James watched her for a few seconds before reaching into his pocket to pull out the ring and pendant. He held them up, and the afternoon sun produced a bright halo around the jewelry.

  I’ve got an epic engagement ring now, but I still need a fucking epic proposal.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  James sat down across from the Professor and set the box in front of him. “That was some annoying shit.”

  The Professor took a sip of his drink and smiled. “Yes, Miss Endo informed me that some unpleasant men interrupted her delivery, but I knew it was nothing you couldn’t handle, lad. That was why I asked you to be involved.”

  James shrugged. “Most of the people who showed up are dead. She said I didn’t need to worry about them. That still the case? Don’t care much, but it’s nice to know who’s closer to the top of the list of ‘assholes who want to kill James Brownstone.’”

  The older man shook his head. “You’re fine, lad. I doubt any of the men left alive will dare even look at you on tv again.” He patted the box. “Unfortunately, the tomb raider who acquired this for me has a loose tongue. I won’t be using him again. Alas, not everyone can be as skilled and conscientious as Miz Carson.” He gulped some more beer. “You received the ring and the pendant, I take it?”

  James fished them out of his pocket and set them on the table.

  The Professor smiled and nodded. “Very pretty. Very nice.” He lifted the pendant. “To be clear, both produce a visible magical force field when used, but when they are worn simultaneously, it’s even stronger. They require an Old Mandarin passphrase to activate and deactivate. I’ll send you a recording on your phone, along with phonetic information you can pass along to Miz Carson. If their defenses are exceeded, nothing bad happens to the artifacts; they simply stop working until recharged. The only trick with them is that they require moonlight to recharge. Direct moonlight charges them faster, but they’ll charge even under cloud cover, just slower.” He set the pendant back down. “I think Miz Carson will appreciate both their aesthetic and utility values. That said, a ring, even a magic one with a matching pendant, requires an adequate proposal. How are you coming with that?”

  “Halfway.” James shrugged. “Haven’t worked it out all the way, but I’ve got an idea at least.”

  “Oh?” The Professor raised an eyebrow. “An idea? That’s promising. What sort of idea?”

  “Something to do with a tomb raid; just need to find the right one with the right atmosphere.” James shrugged. “Probably need Heather and Peyton to help me, along with some advice from Alison.”

  The Professor chuckled. “I’m more than happy to help you as well, lad. Once you have a more concrete ide
a what you’re looking for, let me know and I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure we can be of use to one another.”

  “Thanks, Professor.” James stood and nodded at the box. “Hope you enjoy whatever that is.”

  “Oh, no, James. This I intend to bury somewhere very deep and far away.” A pained smile appeared on his face. “As your experience with the Eyes recently reinforced, some artifacts simply shouldn’t exist.”

  “Have fun burying it, then.” James nodded slowly and pushed his chair in. “See you later.”

  “Have a good afternoon, lad.”

  Shay frowned at her phone as the news video played. She’d decided to check the news before bed and was skimming headlines as James brushed his teeth in the bathroom. She hadn’t expected what she was seeing.

  The yellow chyron at the bottom cut straight to what she cared about: ERIN NORTH, INTERNATIONAL REFUGEE ADVOCATE, KILLED IN PLANE CRASH.

  In the video, dozens of firefighters stood around the smoldering wreck of a small private jet on a runway. A reporter stood behind the line of police keeping curious onlookers at bay. Several ambulances were parked off to the side, but their open backs revealed no patients.

  The image shifted to an overhead view from a circling drone. Pieces of the jet were scattered up and down the runway.

  “Again, we’re having trouble confirming all the details,” explained the reporter in voiceover, “but we can confirm at this time that a private jet carrying Erin North, CEO of the Global Empathy Foundation, crashed after an apparent engine failure while landing at Chicago O’Hare. Witnesses have reported that the plane seemed to be out of control and unpowered when it fell from the sky, and we’ve received initial reports that air traffic controllers lost contact with the plane before the crash.

  “While no one on the ground was hurt and no other planes were damaged in the crash, the private jet was completely destroyed. As you can see, there are fragments all over the runway. First responders have already recovered at least two bodies from the plane and authorities are still combing the wreckage for more.”