“Yeah. Low power. We have 20 minutes to get in there, get the best pizza this side of the Mississippi, and get the fuck out of town.”
The man-boy continued staring at her, utter incredulity on his face.
Shay threw open her door and stepped out. Peyton sighed and followed.
The woman walked toward the front door of the restaurant. “Look, did you really think I came all the way to the east coast just to save your scrawny ass?”
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
They headed inside as Shay nodded, taking a quick survey of her surroundings. Professional habit. They were hitting the place about an hour before closing, so the line was non-existent, only one old man eyeing the menu like it was written in Linear B.
“Do they have any stuffed crust here?” Peyton asked. “It’s been a while.”
Shay snorted. “Thin-crust NYC-style. That’s the only type of real pizza. You fold a slice in half and eat it. None of this abomination Chicago nonsense.”
“Okay. Whatever.” Peyton gestured toward the napkins and plastic utensils. “I’ll go grab some knifes and forks.”
Shay burst out laughing. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
The old man eyed her with a frown on his face. She ignored him.
Peyton’s cheeks reddened. “What?”
“I’m so blue collar,” the woman replied in a mocking voice. “Here’s a tip, Peyton. Blue-collar people don’t eat their pizza with a knife and fork, and that’s not how we roll, not if you’re with me.”
Shay didn’t bother with a supersonic flight back to LAX. Both of them needed a little rest. Taking a redeye and resting on the plane struck her as great time management, especially if she was going to be up for giving a lecture at her day job as an adjunct professor at nearby UCLA.
The lectures were a key ingredient to boosting her profile as a field archaeologist and fed her love of uncovering the real history of the world since magic started to return.
Besides, Peyton was still adjusting to his sudden death anyway, and a little sleep would help with that as well. Once again, Clueless hadn’t considered he would need a fake ID once he was dead until Shay gave it to him.
Their morning arrival in L.A. soon had her back behind the wheel of her beloved red Fiat Spider, Peyton in tow as they headed toward one of her warehouses.
She controlled multiple storage buildings spread throughout L.A. to store her equipment for the different jobs and anything else she needed. A series of false names and shell companies helped keep any nosy parties from ever linking anything to her directly.
Peyton yawned as they pulled up to the medium-sized brown building. A large dark blue metal loading bay door prevented further access.
Shay pulled out her phone to bring up an app and disable the primary security on the building. A grinding noise filled the air as the door slowly slid to the side.
“You’ve been quiet,” she said.
“Just… it’s a lot to take in. I’m dead now, and I have to live in Los Angeles.” He counted them off on his fingers.
Shay chuckled. “You get used to being dead after a while.”
The door finished sliding to the side, and she pulled the car in before pressing a command on her app to start the door closing sequence.
Metal and wooden crates and boxes filled the high-ceiling room, and two doors led to a bathroom with a shower and a small office. The building mostly provided overflow storage to a toy company before Shay purchased it.
She exited the car and waited for Peyton to get out before speaking.
“Welcome to Warehouse Two.”
“Warehouse Two?”
“I’ve got five of them, all for different purposes, some more important than others. It’s simple, the lower the level, the less important the shit, or the easier to replace, depends on how you want to look at it.”
Peyton laughed. “I only warrant a two? Ouch.”
Shay ignored him to walk over to a wooden crate and pull the top off. She pointed. Boxes of 9mm bullets filled the crate. She pulled open another crate to reveal climbing ropes. A third crate contained SCUBA equipment.
“Look, you’re safe here,” she said, “but if someone comes here and blows up the place, then I’ll have fallback places, and won’t be totally fucked.”
“Except for me being blown up.”
“You’ll die twice.”
“Not funny.”
“No one knows about this place. I monitor the warehouses seven different ways. I wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble and then sat you down with a target on your back. You’re safe.”
Peyton didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t bitch, so that worked for the moment.
“This is your place?” He walked closer to peer into the crates. “You live here? Or do you live in another warehouse?”
Shay rolled her eyes. “I live in a condo like a normal person.”
“You’re an ex-hitman who faked her own death. What’s normal about any of that?”
“I didn’t say I was a normal person just that I live in a condo like a normal person.”
“Got it.”
“I just don’t store anything important there. This is my storage, and I’m storing you here for now.” Shay pointed to one of the doors along the wall. “You can set up in there. I’ve got a computer all ready.”
“And internet?”
She shrugged. “Create a cutout. Steal it from some of the local businesses for now so it can’t be traced back to this place. I don’t want anyone coming to this place to wire it up or sticking up a satellite dish. You’re the computer expert. You’re going to take what I did and raise it to a whole new level. It’s why I saved your ass. The start of bigger things.”
Peyton nodded. “That’s doable. It’s pretty easy for me to use a VPN and a lot of proxy servers. If anyone comes poking, I’ll have them looking in Nigeria. Hell, I’ll have them looking in Oriceran.”
Shay chuckled. “Sounds good. There’s folding cots and blankets in one of these crates.” Shay looked back and forth and shrugged. “I don’t remember which one.”
“I have
