Hope they don’t have real-time satellite coverage. If they do, this will be over really quickly.
Shay snorted. This wasn’t a CIA wetwork squad, just some run-of-the-mill killers. She and James had decapitated an entire cartel and the Harriken. These guys were roaches in comparison.
The rumble of engines sounded, and she crouched. Three black SUVs shot down a side street, screeching as they took a hard turn into the industrial park.
The tomb raider grinned. She almost felt sorry for the bastards. Almost.
One of the SUVs sped past the bait vehicles Shay and James had set up and turned hard to block them in. The other two stopped behind them. Rifles poked from open windows and opened fire.
The guns spat bullet after bullet, their loud reports overlapping and echoing in the lonely industrial park. Glass shattered on the bait cars, and the dummies jerked with each bullet striking them. Fake blood from the dummies splattered all over the glass.
I knew it was worth it to add the extra touch. It’s the small details that really sell something like this.
Shay smirked at the mock massacre going on beneath her. A brief halt in the hail of bullets ended seconds later as all the hitmen reloaded and opened fire again. Finally, after a long couple of minutes, the assault ceased.
Dozens of bullet holes punctured the bait cars. Red splotches lay in the street and the shattered windows. Almost all the tires were now flat.
A cautious hitman in a suit stepped out of the lead SUV, automatic rifle in hand, and crept toward the Audi with his gun up. A few others exited the other vehicles and made their way toward the vans.
Almost there, asshole. Almost there. Just keep going.
Shay reached down to her belt and pulled out three EMP grenades. She trusted her throwing arm, but with three vehicles it didn’t matter. She really only needed to ensure two were taken out.
“What the fuck?” the first hitman shouted. “There ain’t anyone in here. It’s just dummies.”
“You fucking sure? Maybe we just jacked them up so much they looked like dummies now.”
Shay rolled her eyes. It was an important reminder that not every professional killer was an intelligent woman with an interest in ancient history and a penchant for wanting to uncover the truth.
With three quick tosses, she sent the EMP grenades flying toward the SUVs.
“What the fuck is that?” the first hitman shouted.
A loud buzz and crackle filled the air, and the SUVs all died.
“Randy Coolidge sends his regards, assholes,” Shay shouted, her voice echoing among the cluster of buildings and difficult to trace. “You call that an ambush? We’ll show you a fucking ambush, you pieces of shit. This is what you get for being so greedy. Should have only asked for ten percent.”
James threw a couple of frag grenades from behind the oil drums right after her speech. Shay raised her 9mm and put two rounds into the first hitman. He dropped to the ground with a scream.
The frag grenades exploded near the other men. Their echoing cries of pain further added to the confusion.
Shay started unloading her pistol into the two back SUVs, while James blasted away with his .45, bullet after bullet striking the vehicles. This time the shattering glass and blood splatters were all too real markers of actual men dying.
James took the opportunity to toss another couple of grenades while Shay reloaded.
They’d concentrated their fire on the back two SUVs and the men outside. The doors to the front SUV opened and three men rushed out, sprinting away from the carnage.
Shay waited a few seconds and then put three rounds into the back of one of the men. That left two men fleeing.
She smiled. They’d killed enough to make their point. The tomb raider sent a couple of smoke grenades down at the ground. She doubted the men would realize the SUVs weren’t burning in their confusion.
The tomb raider reloaded and slid down the ladder on the side of the building. She crouched against the wall, then spun around the corner, approaching the lead SUV while James came in from the other direction. Blood and bodies covered the ground.
A man groaned and crawled toward his weapon. Shay kicked it out of his grasp but didn’t finish him off. She had a mask on, and his survival, in addition to the other two’s, would only work better for the plan.
She strode toward the other two vehicles. Most of the men were dead, but a few had managed to survive.
Maybe a little overkill, but enough.
The tomb raider nodded to James and jogged toward the abandoned factory. He caught up with her as she pulled open the loading door.
“Still think it’d’ve been easier to just go kill Randy,” James rumbled. “When the Harriken fucked with me, I went and killed the Harriken. I didn’t trick the Nuevo Gulf Cartel into killing them.”
“If only we could all be as honest with our feelings as you.” Shay grinned and shook her head. “Nope. This way they waste him, and Peyton doesn’t end up beating himself up over his piece-of-shit brother.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Nicely done. A good mixture of brawn and brains. Won’t be long now till Randy is no longer a problem.”
Chapter Ten
A few days later, Shay sat on a bench in front of a fountain in the middle of the mall, scanning the crowd. A small bag from a jewelry shop sat in her lap, but she was focused instead on the arrival of one teenage girl with white-tipped black hair.
This is the ultimate test. You have all the people around here, but you can use the magolocation to help you navigate. Let’s see if you can actually find me, Alison.
Shay chuckled. Finding a particular teenage girl with unusual hair in a mall was an exercise in false positives, not helped by the tomb raider disliking the
