Shay didn’t plan on getting in a gun battle under water, but at least with the needlegun she could kill someone more than a few feet way. Early on in her career as a professional killer, she’d hit upon the clever idea of ambushing a man in a pool. She’d learned the hard way just how ineffective normal guns were in water, and the little incident had almost ended with a knife in her chest.
“What else?” She tapped her lips with all the casualness of someone at Ralph’s buying groceries. “Oh, underwater flares. Maybe some grenades. Just in case. Never can be sure when you need to blow someone up.”
A grin split her face. This was going to be fun.
Assuming someone doesn’t get there first and try and kill me. Then again, that could be fun, too.
The black rental Volkswagen Canyon truck rolled along at a good clip. Forests of spruce and pine surrounded her on both sides, broken by the occasional village or small home. The hills feeding into the peaks in the distance dominated her attention on one side.
Shay took a private plane into Austria, her equipment stored in the belly of the plane and a hefty bonus paid to the pilot. See something, don’t say a damn thing.
She was already changed into her work clothes – all black and a snug fit, with her long hair tied back.
“Damn, the roads really are a lot nicer over here,” Shay muttered, enjoying the smooth ride. “And the drivers are better.”
Being better than a driver in L.A. or NYC is a pretty low bar to clear. Don’t know how much I should be impressed. Plus, it wasn’t exactly rush-hour on the mountain road.
Nah, still better. If I were in L.A., someone would have already honked at me just to be a dick.
It was a small irony that despite her speech to Peyton, Shay had ended up flying into Germany… Munich specifically. Time wasn’t her ally, which necessitated a supersonic flight. The two closest airports to the lake that could handle a supersonic flight were in Munich and Vienna. The German city was actually closer to the lake, though she’d long since passed into Austria.
Not gonna tell Peyton that. Don’t want him getting too smug.
Shay glanced in her rearview mirror. She’d spotted nothing but the occasional garden-variety truck or car. Every once in a while, she saw a cargo drone going in the opposite direction, but the farther she drove toward the lake, the less common they became.
Guess there can’t always be killer mercenaries waiting to steal your artifacts.
She chuckled to herself, wondering if the job would be too boring without a gunfight or two. Natalie hadn’t been totally wrong. There was an excitement that came with gambling with your life.
Whatever. It’s not like I became an accountant. I’m about to dive into some murky-ass lake to look for some Nazi artifact. That’s plenty dangerous.
Her stomach rumbled. She’d been in such a hurry that she’d skipped out on eating in any of the larger cities she’d passed through. Spending hours searching underwater on an empty stomach sounded like a terrible idea.
A review of her map app suggested the village of Grundlsee would be a good place to stop for a bite to eat. Her German might not be as good as her Spanish, but it was passable enough. Plus, she had to assume a bunch of drunk-ass foreign tourists infested the area at times, raising the chance of people having English proficiency.
Shay looked over her shoulder out the back window at the blue tarp covering all her equipment. The locals might get suspicious, or they might just assume she was there for Nazi gold in the lake like so many others and laugh in her face, just like the border guards in Salzburg when they’d asked to inspect her truck.
She’d hidden everything dangerous beneath false panels, leaving nothing more than totally legal, if conspicuous equipment. The border guards took one look at the way she was dressed and immediately realized the implications of her cargo. Their only real response was to mock her as Fräulein Schatzjäger, Miss Treasure Hunter.
Shay didn’t give a shit about border guards mocking her. The one useful thing from the border crossing was the guards letting slip that she was the first treasure hunter they’d seen in several months. That at least suggested a lower chance of anyone getting there ahead of her, but she still couldn’t discount they might have come through Vienna.
Fräulein Schatzjäger still needed to keep a low profile until she was sure. She’d run into mercenaries during her first major tomb raiding job, and she couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t run into someone equally dangerous. The information that had brought her here was accessible to others if they knew what they were looking for and could put the pieces together to fit the right picture.
Shay frowned as she pressed down on the gas, happy for the higher speed limits. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure there was nothing in her blind spot as she changed lanes, picking up speed.
Peyton had gone off about a better business model several times. She couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by that.
What the fuck does Man-Boy know about any of this? Tomb raiding isn’t the same thing as what he does. There’s a different kind of research involved. This is a good business model, one that doesn’t end with hits being placed on either of us.
“I know what I’m doing,” she said, tightening her hands around the wheel. “I’m building a rep so I will attract major players to the buys.”
Shay squinted at the road as she pulled out her phone, looking for cell service. She’d passed enough small houses and villages on either side of the road to hope at least.
Not great bars, but at least I have some.
She dialed Peyton’s phone.
He answered after one ring. “Shay?”
She could barely hear him, but it was clearly
