Tomb Raiding PHD

by Martha Carr

  The other two pouches were filled with small jewels and a few gold coins. Even if they weren’t magical, it was a good secondary haul.

  Shay tied them to her belt, spared a final glance for the dead chicken, and shook out her sore arm and shoulder.

  “You were a good opponent. Don’t feel too bad in Hell if the Devil yells at you.” Shay took a few steps and chuckled.

  Does a demonic chicken get fried down in Hell?

  9

  Peyton smiled into the rearview mirror of his rented pickup truck, loving the gray cowboy hat, bolo tie, and black cowboy boots. It wasn’t an outfit he’d typically wear, but he’d have to change that going forward.

  “I am so rocking this look.” He nodded and stepped out of the truck.

  Peyton strutted across the parking lot toward Lonestar Pawn and Jewelry, one of the many pawn shops in the city of Georgetown, Texas, and one that had a specific item he needed, according to his research and client information.

  The faux cowboy threw open the door. A bell rang overhead, and a mustachioed older man at the counter gave Peyton a quizzical look. The corners of his mouth turned up.

  Why is he looking at me like that?

  Peyton grabbed the brim of his hat and offered the man a polite nod before making a show of wandering around the small shop and taking in some of the items on the walls and shelves. His plan involved him not coming off as too eager. He didn’t need to be an expert negotiator to know that.

  “Looking for something in particular, boy?” the owner drawled from the front counter.

  Peyton walked toward the counter with a smile on his face. “Howdy, sir.”

  The man smirked. “Look at you, hat-wearing boy. Enjoying the look?”

  “I can assure you that I dress like this all the time.” Peyton experimented with a painful Texan accent for the first part of the sentence but had already given up by the end of it.

  “Sure, boy. Whatever you say.”

  Okay, so I’m not the best actor in the world.

  Peyton took a deep breath. This wasn’t a demonic chicken or sinister catacomb. This was a simple artifact recovery from a shop that had no idea they even had a magical artifact. According to the client, it looked like a simple onyx brooch.

  I can do this. Don’t have to fight anyone or worry about crazy competing tomb raiders. Simple. Just need to find it and walk out of here with it.

  The client said that the brooch had some limited light and fire powers, but it only worked for magical beings. It was effectively just a magical flashlight and lighter, which was why it had passed through several humans’ hands in Texas without anyone noticing it was magical. It also conveniently sat in the glass case below the counter.

  Peyton pointed at the brooch. “That looks pretty.”

  The man arched a brow. “Yeah, you could say that. Just got this in the other day. Five thousand dollars.”

  Peyton managed not to bug his eyes out. The client was only offering two thousand dollars. Shay would mock him for the next twenty years if he took such a high-percentage loss even if the absolute amount was pocket change to her.

  “Five thousand dollars? Do I look like some sort of Hollywood actor? I’m a rancher.”

  The owner chuckled. “Nope. You don’t look like an actor, boy, but the only kind of rancher you are is all hat and no cattle.”

  Peyton blinked, not sure how to respond to that. Maybe he should have kept trying with the accent.

  How would Shay handle this? Oh, probably with flying fists and guns, or by breaking in during the middle of the night to steal it. I can do this. Just need a little Peyton elegance.

  He cleared his throat. “Because I’m aching for a nice gift, and I just sold one of my prize-winning heifers, I’m willing to give you five hundred for it.”

  The owner laughed and slapped his hand against the counter. “Boy, you loco or something?”

  “That isn’t worth five thousand dollars. I know that much, even if I am loco.”

  “I’ll give you that, boy. How about twenty-five hundred?”

  Peyton shook his head. “Because I like your face, I can do seven hundred and fifty.”

  The owner grinned. “I find you funny, so I’m willing to drop to fifteen hundred.”

  “I can’t do more than one thousand.”

  The other man sighed and scratched his eyelid. “That’s me taking a bath, boy.”

  Peyton shrugged and turned to walk away. “If I’m going to pay much more than that, I might as well grab something that isn’t in a pawn shop. She’ll just really like that one.”

  “She, huh? Who? Your mother?”

  “Uh, yeah, guess you could say that. Kinda.”

  The owner pulled a keycard from his pocket and passed it over a reader on the side of the counter. The lock to the glass case clicked, and he slid the door open. “Guess it’s your lucky day, boy. I like a man who respects his mother.”

  Peyton tapped the brim of his hat and nodded. “Much obliged.”

  The other man pulled out the brooch, chuckling.

  Peyton resisted letting out a yell of triumph. Sure, he hadn’t paraglided into the middle of the desert or had a shootout with a bunch of Russian mobsters, but he’d pulled off a solid, if low-level, artifact recovery.

  Maybe it’d be a stretch to call it a tomb raid, but he was satisfied for the moment being Peyton the Pawn-Shop Raider.

  James’ F-350 was parked right outside Shay’s brownstone when she pulled up in her Fiat. A little antiseptic spray and a bandage had taken care of her beak wounds, but her shoulder was still sore. Her bounty-hunter boyfriend stepped out of his truck and headed toward the garage with a capacious brown paper bag in hand.

  Barbeque, I bet. You’d think he would have shown up with pizza, but it’s the thought that counts.

  Shay snickered and pulled her car into her garage. James ducked inside under the closing door

  “Welcome back,” James offered as Shay stepped out of the car.

  “Surprised you wanted to see me tonight right after a job.”

  James shrugged. “I know you’ve been busy, so I haven’t bothered you, and you’re always staying at my place. I figured we could mix it up. I’ve read that’s a good thing to do in relationships.” He lifted the bag. “Brought some barbeque. Thought about going to Vegas and getting some Jessie Rae’s, but wasn’t sure how good it’d be by the time you got back. Still, this is from a good local place.”

  Shay laughed. “James, you’re the only person I’d know who’d drive hours and hours just for barbeque.”

  He grunted. “Maybe the only one you know, but not the only one like me in the world.”

  “I don’t think the world could handle two James Brownstones, and I can barely handle one.” Shay smiled. “Let’s go eat before the food gets cold.”

  The barbeque wasn’t thin-crust pizza, but it did hit the spot. A couple of hours later, she sat on the bed with her man behind her. He was massaging her tired and aching shoulders. Shay had given him the rundown on the job since he’d asked about her wound.

  “A demon chicken?” James asked. “Like the kind that lay eggs?”

  “Well, yeah, like that, but evil and huge. And bulletproof. And frag-grenade proof, the little son of a bitch.”

  “I hate when they’re bulletproof,” James grunted. “How did you take it down?”

  “My knives and the tachi.”

  James grinned. “Good gift, huh?”

  “Yes, for the girl who has everything, a magical demonic chicken-killing sword is a must-have.” Shay laughed. “But it did come in handy.” She sighed at her lover’s skillful work. “Speaking of coming in handy…”

  “You know if you ever want me to come with you on a job, I will. I don’t need a bounty if it’s you.”

  “I’m fine, James. It takes more than a giant evil chicken to kill me.” Shay turned around and licked her lips. “But there’s a little something I’ve missed that you could give me.” She winked and leaned over
to turn out the light. “Just watch the shoulder.”

  Shay awoke in the middle of the night, her head resting against the hard planes of James’ chest. The bounty hunter slept on his back, oblivious to the world. It took Shay a few seconds to realize why she’d woken up: a chiming phone on her nightstand.

  She disentangled herself from her lover’s arms and rolled toward the nightstand. Peyton.

  311. Give me a call.

  Shay stared at the phone, having no idea what a 311 was. She crept out of bed and took the phone with her into the next room to call her assistant and personal hacking specialist.

  “Sorry to call you in the middle of the night,” Peyton answered.

  “That’s fine. Maybe. What the fuck is a 311, though?”

  “I mentioned it to you the other day right before you left. Huh. You must not have been paying attention.”

  Shay rolled her eyes. “Just tell me what the fuck it is. You’re the one who called me in the middle of the night.”

  “You know, information coming in that suggests a problem, but not like a red-hot emergency.”

  “And what information is that?”

  “I was checking into the 25K Group guys. They are still keeping it local. There are only a small number of them, but they’re starting to sniff around and pay informants. I think it’s just a matter of time before they figure out who Lily is, or at least who she knows. Then they’ll come knocking on the other kids’ door with guns.”

  Shay sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. She heard a loud thud on the other end of the line.

  “What the hell was that?”

  “Oh, it’s just Lily running and doing parkour and acrobatics and stuff. Trying to burn off steam and cabin fever, I guess. Girl doesn’t even seem tired. Surprised she slept the other day.”

  Shay sighed. “Whatever. That’s fine, but why are you calling me in the middle of the damned night about this?”

  “If you want to catch up with these guys, it has to be the middle of the night because that’s when they roam the street. Otherwise, you’ll be breaking into a heavily fortified building. So if you want to find them, you better get going. Besides, misery loves company.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I can’t see Amber…”

  Shay snorted. “Fine. You’re right. Best to handle this shit ASAP. Get Lily ready to meet me, just in case. I’ll be on my way soon.” She hung up.

  She walked back into her bedroom and scribbled a note for James, which she put on the nightstand next to him.

  Be back soon. Have a small side job. Don’t worry, it’s local and easy.

  Shay opened her closet and accessed her hidden panel. City jobs made things a little more difficult, and she didn’t want to waste time arming up at Warehouse Three. A gun, adamantine knives, and her earpiece should be enough.

  She shook her head. No, she couldn’t assume everything would be easy—that would be a mistake. After a quick stop at Warehouse Three for a more standard loadout, she’d go have a chat with some gangsters.

  Okay, Lily, let’s clean up your mess.

  10

  Shay stepped out of the van onto the darkened street. She didn’t want to risk her Fiat being damaged or broken into while she handled the triad members., It also lacked the appropriate modifications the van had to make it immune to one of the devices she needed for her plan.

  Killing the men wasn’t on the menu. That would only attract even more attention, which might lead to Lily and her friends, or maybe even Shay. At the same time, if the men decided they wanted to kill her, she wasn’t going to lie down and die, hence the arming up.

  Still, the night’s efforts would be another test of her ability to engage targets in a non-lethal manner. At least, that was the plan.

  “You still have eyes on them?” Shay asked, her voice barely a whisper. The throat mic would pick up her words.

  “Yeah, they are one block north and one block west of you,” Peyton reported through her earpiece. “Twelve of them are spread out, but they aren’t in earshot from the looks of things. They’ve rousted a few prostitutes, but aren’t doing much other than trying to look tough.”

  Shay cracked her knuckles. “Okay. I’m gonna jam shit so I don’t have to worry about them calling anyone or spotting me with drones. Pull your drone back now.”

  “You sure about your plan? I mean, there’s a lot that could go wrong.”

  “Yeah, I know. If worse comes to the worst, I can always start killing people.” Shay marched up the block. “And send Lily with the package. By the time she gets here, I’ll be ready for her.”

  “Roger that. Enjoy your gangster beatings.”

  “I always do. It’s a nice way to let off steam.”

  Shay touched a silver band on her wrist and waited for about half a minute. That would give Peyton enough time to fly his drone out of range. She pressed a button and activated the jammer.

  About seventy-five percent of the streetlights died.

  “Okay, not quite what I wanted, so Stage Two it is.”

  Shay slipped her phone into a small metal case, then dropped it into a pouch on her tactical harness. She pulled out a metal cylinder with several buttons. She wouldn’t normally set off an EMP in a city, but it was the middle of the night with no traffic in a rundown commercial district. The only chaos she’d cause was for the triads.

  “Here goes nothing.” She pressed the button.

  The rest of the streetlights died, plunging the entire area into darkness. According to Peyton’s research, she’d have at least a few minutes to deliver the pain before some of the backup systems activated and rerouted the power. It wouldn’t restore all the street lights, but it’d restore enough to make her job harder.

  Shay hit a corner and peered around. She spotted the triad members advancing. They were all dressed in black. A few had their sleeves rolled up to display their dragon and phoenix tattoos, and all of them had guns peeking out from underneath jackets.

  “Okay, here it goes.”

  The tomb raider darted into a narrow alley. A quick pop around the corner put her behind the trailing gangster. She slammed into him in the darkness, knocking him to the ground. Instead of finishing him off, she disappeared back into the alley. She pocketed a few large rocks and grinned.

  That went well.

  The man shook out his bloodied wrist and shouted to his friends. Shay took a deep breath and charged the alley wall. She leapt up and pushed off before twisting and pushing off the other wall, which sent her higher. It didn’t take her long to make it to the roof of the three-story building.

  I could have killed all of you assholes already, but I’m holding back. Sure, I’m holding back for Lily’s sake, but I hope you appreciate it.

  Shay resisted the urge to drop a sonic grenade on them. If she escalated the attacks before she had them in the necessary location, they’d start shooting and things would get out of hand. Instead, she hurled a rock she’d picked up from the alley and nailed one of the men in the neck.

  He yelped. “Fuck! Someone hit me in the neck.”

  One of the other men shouted at him in Cantonese.

  Shay bit her lip to keep from laughing. She rushed to the edge of the roof and leapt to the next, landing with a roll. She threw another rock into the back of the head of a third gangster before she ran to the other side of the roof and dropped to a nearby landing. From there, she hopped landing to landing and finally back to street-level.

  Shouts of mixed English and Cantonese rose. Shay sprinted away from the building of her latest rooftop assaults, then around the corner of a small laundry.

  The triad gangsters had tightened their formation, just as she’d wanted. Several had knives or guns out as they desperately searched for the enemy.

  “How many of the fuckers are out there?” one of the men shouted.

  “At least three,” another answered. “Why the fuck are they messing with us? Where are they?”

  Shay ran across the stre
et in a crouch, and none of the men spotted her. She ducked in another alley, then sprinted out to slam one of the gangsters’ face into a wall before rushing back in.

  The triad gangster groaned and shouted something in Cantonese. The twelve men rushed into the alley after her.

  Brave guys, but they are doing exactly what I want, so not so bright.

  “We’ll kill you,” one of the men shouted. “We’re gonna torture your guy when we catch him. The rest of you better surrender right the fuck now, if you know what’s good for you.”

  Shay continued running. She vaulted over a commercial garbage container with ease and led the twelve men a block away to an alley behind a barbeque restaurant, of all places. She didn’t give a crap about the restaurant, but the alley had one important feature—it dead-ended against a nine-foot fence covered with barbed wire.

  When Shay hit the alley, she used a metal garbage can as a launchpad to get her to a window ledge, then jumped to the next window ledge until she was on the roof.

  She killed the jammer and pulled out her phone. She didn’t need to make a call, but Peyton could use her signal to direct Lily to her final location.

  The men raced into the alley with their guns out, hungry for their prey. They clustered together, looking for their enemy.

  “Where the fuck did he go?”

  She, asshole.

  Shay almost grabbed a frag grenade, but she sighed and grabbed two sonic grenades instead. She tossed both into the alley.

  “Look out!” one gangster managed to yell before a high-pitched whine filled the air. All twelve men collapsed, clutching their ears.

  The tomb raider dropped down with the help of a garbage can and pulled her gun.

  The gangsters remained on the ground, still stunned by the effects of the grenade.

  “I’ve got a gun on you, and I also have the exploding kind of grenade. You can just sit there and rest until a friend of mine arrives, then we can all have a civil conversation.”