Road Trip: BBQ And A Brawl (The Unbelievable Mr. Brownstone Book 19) Read online

  Whispy had gone quiescent after whining about inefficiency. James wondered if that meant a well-timed attack might harm him more than usual, but the situation was well in hand.

  James spotted anti-magic emitters set up in the back of the ambulances and narrowed his eyes. The first time he’d heard of the newer devices was after someone had tried to use them on Alison and one of her friends. That little test had ended with Alison and her friends taking down the men trying to ambush her since they’d failed to remember that she didn’t only have magic to rely on.

  Guess those anti-magic things don’t matter much now since they have to be in a small area, but what happens in fifty years? Will they even need bounty hunters in fifty years if they have shit like that but better?

  James shook his head. It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t be his problem. He wasn’t even supposed to be working this job. His favor had turned complicated, and he needed to get back on the road soon.

  “Do the cops need anything else from me?” James asked.

  Trey shook his head. “Not that I’ve heard.”

  “I should probably get going, then.”

  “Maybe, but hear me out.” Trey moved away from the truck. “I got that name—Boris Egorov—from the bounty.”

  James nodded. “Yeah, what about him? He’s the Ultimate dealer?”

  “Way more than that.” Trey glanced back and forth and lowered his voice. “Egorov is Russian Mafia. He used to hang in, get this, Dallas until a couple of months ago. He’s a smart guy. He knows enough to keep his hands clean, so no bounties, but I’ve been hearing rumors that he’s making a big play. I hadn’t connected him with Ultimate because the word on the street was that drugs weren’t his game. He’s supposed to be a big arms dealer. Some people even say he’s got a few big politicians in his pocket.”

  James frowned. “Sounds like a piece of shit, but you just said he didn’t have a bounty. No bounty means it’s not your problem. It’s not like it’s cheap to run the agency or keep you guys in gear. Just because I don’t pay much attention doesn’t mean that changes.”

  Trey raised a hand. “Sure, sure. I feel you, big man, but if this guy’s bringing in Ultimate into Las Vegas, he’s making problems for the agency, even if those problems don’t appear until later. The guys we took down today weren’t all that, but what happens if some Ultimate freak decides to go to the Strip or Fremont Street and make a point by killing a bunch of people? And who knows if that side-effect stuff makes them go crazy? If AET had taken these guys on, it might not have gone as well.” He lowered his hand. “I get that we’re not the cops, and I get that we can’t go around trying to solve everyone’s problems, but we both know you’ve taken on plenty of ass-kickings that weren’t exactly profitable.”

  James grunted. “I had my reasons, and those usually involved self-defense.”

  “Yeah, big man. Usually.” Trey smirked. “Sometimes you just decided to stop some bastard because they had it coming, even if the money wasn’t all lined up right away.”

  “What are you saying, then?” James furrowed his brow. Everything Trey had said was true, even if James didn’t like it.

  “I’m saying we go take out Egorov.” Trey pointed to one of the ambulances as it pulled away. “That way, three months from now this city’s not flooded with level fives blowing up casinos and killing people. Sure, the agency and cops can take them down, but that’s only if we see them coming. And even though we’ve got a little Brownstone Effect here, it’s not as strong as it is in LA. Sometimes I think scumbags are coming here to test out if they’re ready for LA.”

  James folded his arms over his chest. “It’s a waste of time. If you’re not gonna get paid, you’re just burning cash and supplies. Turn the name over to the cops and let them do their thing. You’re a bounty hunter, not a cop.” He nodded toward a few uniformed officers in the distance. “They’ve got AET. If they have surprise, they can take this Egorov down.”

  “Come on, big man. You know how it goes. Cops have restraints. They’ll have to do surveillance and build up a case. They can’t go knocking on the man’s door without a lot of paperwork, and having some piece-of-garbage bounty throw Egorov’s name out isn’t gonna be enough for them to move quickly. By the time they get going, it might be too late. Ultimate could be all over the city.” Trey’s phone chimed, and he pulled it out and smiled. He shook the device. “The city’s already paying for the four we just took down. That’s nice. Maybe the golf course will cut us a break on the damage. They’ve got to have insurance.”

  The agency’s feeble attempts to maintain their own insurance had failed years ago. Everyone respected the Brownstone Agency’s ability to take down bounties, but everyone also understood that like their eponymous founder, the men and women now staffing the agency couldn’t always accomplish that without a decent amount of collateral damage. There wasn’t an insurance provider on either planet who could make giving them a policy profitable.

  James surveyed the golf course. Dark wisps of smoke lingered in the air, but from a distance, a person couldn’t make out much damage. There were only a few major craters, so it might not end up being as expensive to repair the course. The bounty hunters hadn’t even blown up any buildings, and that already made the battle less destructive than James’ last little exercise session with the agency.

  He couldn’t help but be reminded of the utter destruction of a USC baseball field that had occurred during the Battle of LA. The actual number of damaged sporting areas over the course of his career had been low. Most bounties and crazed enemies didn’t hang out on golf courses or baseball fields.

  I should sit down and figure out how many mansions, warehouses, and labs I have blown up throughout my career.

  James chuckled.

  Trey eyed him. “Is that a good laugh or a bad laugh?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” James locked eyes with Trey. “It also doesn’t change how I feel about Egorov and doing shit for free. It sets up a bad precedent. It’d be one thing if Egorov threatened you. Self-defense is good for the reputation.”

  I wonder how often they’re doing that kind of thing for free? Maybe I shouldn’t be bitching since the agency is still profitable. If I want to run shit, I should run shit. Trey and the others have done a good job since I stepped away.

  Trey took a deep breath. “Egorov might not have a bounty, but he’s surrounded by guys who do. If we raid his place, we’re guaranteed to snatch more than a few guys with bounties while making our lives easier and the city safer in the long run.” He shrugged. “And that’s saying the cops don’t find us a convenient retroactive bounty for Egorov. You know how they are when it comes to this kind of guy, especially in Vegas. Hell, at this point, we’re pretty much the primary private AET for them, and they’ve said as much several times.”

  James sighed and shook his head. It annoyed him, but he was losing the argument. “I’m supposed to be taking a slow and relaxing road trip to Denver, and now I’m gonna help take down some mob boss whose place is probably surrounded by guys on Ultimate?”

  Trey laughed. “Come on, those fools don’t stress you out. You can’t tell me they do, and Egorov doesn’t have a lot of magicals. He’s smart enough to not surround himself with freaky mutants. Like I said, arms dealer. I’m thinking our boy is gonna have military-grade weapons.” He nodded toward an AET officer in an exoskeleton standing in front of a police van. “I’m thinking it won’t be as easy to take him down. Sometimes I like taking on magicals more than normal dudes, because magicals get cocky and forget there is always a way to get through a power.”

  “I’m not stressed about them. I’m just worried about my trip.” James’ gaze scanned the police and the other bounty hunters, who were standing around chatting. “I’m already a day behind schedule. Is this gonna take a long time? I don’t want to sit around in Vegas waiting for you to corner some mobster unless he’s hiding out in some kick-ass barbeque place I don’t know about.”

  Trey shook his
head. “I’ve got you covered, big man. We already know where Egorov is. Since we already had our eye on him, we went through the trouble of scoping out his headquarters a few weeks ago. We can just knock down his door and knock his ass out, and you can be on your way. Ain’t no big thing. Once we take out Egorov and his boys, the cops can do their thing, and you can get back on the road.” He shrugged. “I’m not saying we can’t handle the guy without you, but you do have a way of making things less complicated.”

  James rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Fine. If you already know where he is, we might as well get this shit over with.”

  Trey offered him a bright smile. “Great. Thanks, big man. You’re making the rest of my year easier.”

  Chapter Nine

  An hour later, a line of vans, trucks, and SUVs all pulled up in front of a large fenced mansion and parked. Several Brownstone Agency drones circled high overhead as the bounty hunters hopped out of their vehicles, all in tactical vests layered over their chest armor. Everyone was equipped with a rifle and a stun rod, along with multiple sonic grenades and flashbangs.

  James frowned and looked around, his helmet back on and his armor recharged with the help of another Shay treat. He didn’t see any obvious guards around the mansion. His instincts suggested that meant Egorov knew they were coming and fled, but Trey had told him they’d been watching the mansion, and no one had arrived or left in the last hour.

  Trey pointed into the air and circled with his hand. “Everyone but the primary entry team, continue surrounding the place. No one’s running yet, but they might get a little less brave once their guys start going down.”

  Other Brownstone vehicles were unloading on different sides of the mansion. Everyone was linked via comm except James, who’d turned down the offer of a receiver. It felt too much like work. This was just a favor for a friend.

  “If he’s not gone, then this shit’s probably a trap,” James rumbled.

  Trey shrugged. “I’m sure our boy has a few nice toys, but that’s why we brought you along.”

  “I’m a nice toy?” James snorted.

  “You’re the nicest toy, big man.” Trey offered him a merry smile. “Just a little dangerous, is all.”

  Victoria and Ramon jogged over to Trey. “The specialists are all in position.”

  Trey had ordered some of the other magicals working in Vegas to spread out with the other teams. He didn’t want to leave any holes in the defenses.

  Good idea, James thought. He had to admit that the people running the agency now were better at that type of planning. Even when he was directly involved, his strategy had mostly consisted of kicking the enemy’s ass quickly enough that none of his guys would be in big trouble.

  Trey pointed to the gate. “Let’s go say hello.”

  Victoria, Trey, Ramon, and James marched toward the front gate, which had an intercom pad off to the side.

  Trey strode over and pressed the Call button. “Hello, this is Trey Garfield of the Brownstone Agency. We’re going to need everyone inside to come out with their hands up. Anyone who doesn’t have a bounty will be free to go, but we know there are more than a few men inside with bounties.” He released the button. “There we go. Nice, fair warning.”

  The massive door to the large unattached garage off to the side groaned and lifted, and the front double doors flew open. A man in power armor clanked out, a rocket launcher in one arm and a heavy machine gun in the other. The device was an evolution over a mere exoskeleton. The clunky form could easily be mistaken for a robot, but a human was inside operating the machine. Anti-magic deflector crystals were embedded in the upper chest portion of the armor.

  Two additional soldiers in power armor emerged from the garage.

  James narrowed his eyes. “More complicated shit—Ultimate and power armor. No one is just a mobster anymore with a magic sword?” He scoffed.

  “Got three armors up front,” Trey reported over the comm with a frown. “Support, make sure none are sneaking around back.” He turned to James. “That’s a little more gear than we planned on. Ultimate dealing’s apparently damned profitable.” He snorted. “Wait. Shit. I know who these guys are. We got a report about a merc company sniffing around Vegas looking for work. They weren’t supposed to be coming in for a few days. Good news is, the whole company has a bounty on them, and they don’t come to America much, so we’ve already got some decent bounties lined up even if no one else inside has one. Just need to play it careful in case more are hiding.”

  James shook his head. “I’m sure that’s their best play up front. I’ll take those assholes out, and everyone else can sweep in after me. I can’t have this shit take all day. I need to get back on the road.” He jumped into the air before Trey could respond and extended a blade.

  The power armor near the front raised its metal-and-polymer arm and opened up with its machine gun, the sound thunderous. A steady stream of shell casings clattered to the cement of the porch as torrents of bullets filled the sky and converged on James. The bullets bounced off his armor, scratching it but not accomplishing much else.

  Maximum adaptation already achieved, Whispy reported. Attacks conventional in nature. Further engagement unlikely to yield additional adaptation. Quickly eliminate enemies.

  A rocket hissed away from one of the garage armors toward one of the agency’s SUVs and the bounty hunters scattered before the projectile struck. An explosion enveloped the vehicle and threw it into the air. The burning wreck tumbled end over end and almost crushed a fleeing bounty hunter.

  Damn, James thought, you’re right. I better pick this shit up.

  The agency bounty hunters opened fire.

  James grunted as he dropped toward the front porch. While he trusted the agency to take targets down, that didn’t mean they would always be able to do it without casualties.

  With a mighty thud, James landed in front of the first power-armored opponent. The armor batted at him with a thick arm, but James blocked it with his own, producing a loud clank that sounded like metal hitting metal. His opponent stepped back and fired his rocket into James’ chest.

  The explosion blinded him for a second and knocked him back a few feet.

  Minimal damage. Armor regeneration in progress, Whispy reported.

  Explosions, the crack of gunfire, and the hiss of stun bolts filled the air. A few fireballs and lightning bolts joined them, but the anti-magic deflectors of the armor weakened the attacks, leaving it blackened and pitted but not seriously damaged.

  James swung his blade wide and cut through the machine gun and arm of his opponent. The armored soldier jerked back, and the sparking stump revealed the gloved hand of the human operator inside. A few more inches and James would have taken a trophy. A few quick stabs and slices had the suit staggering backward, its movement rigid, sparking, and smoking.

  The helmet and chest of the armor hissed and swung open, revealing a bloodied operator.

  Huh, James thought. I went deeper than I thought.

  The operator’s shaking hands moved toward the straps that helped keep him inside. James marched toward the other man and laid him out, armor and all, with a single punch that sent him crashing into the foyer of the mansion.

  Dozens of men swept with automatic rifles swept around the far walls of the foyer from the front hall of the mansion and opened fire on James. He jumped back and ducked around the wall, not out of fear but because he had another concern: protecting the agency’s bounty hunters.

  The other two armored men continued to pin most of the bounty hunters with a steady stream of bullets and the occasional rocket. Their anti-magic deflectors darkened, but they were nowhere near black and shattering.

  James raised his blade and pointed at one. Green sparks appeared around his blade, leaping across the weapon and increasing in frequency. The suits turned to concentrate their gunfire on him. At least if they were firing at him, they couldn’t fire at any of the bounty hunters.

  A couple of rockets followed
a few seconds later, forcing James back and into a crossfire with the mercenaries in the foyer.

  Maximum adaptation already achieved, Whispy reported. Anticipate enemy ammo shortage before significant damage achieved.

  James grunted. Although the bullet storm wasn’t hurting him or his armor, the sheer volume of hot lead being slung at him was distracting. He released his own charge, and a green beam blasted from his blade and arm. The attack carved through the first armored suit, a red Maserati in the garage, and the side wall of the garage.

  The blast left a smoking hole in the center of the armored suit and its operator and it toppled over.

  Shit. I might have wasted the bounty.

  Enemy is unlikely to have survived removal of heart and lungs, Whispy helpfully clarified.

  Thanks for that.

  James crouched as bullets and grenades exploded around him, the attacks showering him with dirt and shrapnel. He would have to close and disable the enemy with his blades and claws or risk another kill, especially after his lecture to Trey about doing things for free.

  James’ expanded vision might not truly let him see behind him, but it let him see enough. Trey rushed down the street with a grenade launcher, pointed at the surviving suit of armor, and pulled the trigger.

  A small silver grenade flew toward the armored merc, popping up with a few blue sparks once it completed its flight. James couldn’t hear anything in the overwhelming din of the gunfire and other explosions, but the sparks and arcs of electricity let him know what Trey’s plan had been: EMP the bastard.

  The suit stopped moving, and a moment later, the back opened instead of the front.

  All sorts of models. Fancy.

  The operator dropped out and laid on his stomach, then put his hands on his head, accepting that he was outclassed.