by Martha Carr
“That doesn’t change anything about the last job.” Shay shook her head. “That French fucker stole my artifact and messed with me on a job. It’s one thing to lose to Yulia. She’s at least a witch, but that guy doesn’t have any magic.” She pointed at the computer in the office. “Find Durand. Drop everything else for now. I don’t want any other jobs until I can find him again. The important thing is Francois Durand, and the wheel he stole from me. Asshole got lucky by showing up a few minutes earlier. He’s not better than me.”
“You planning to kill him?”
Shay shrugged. “Maybe, but mostly it’s time he realized he’s not free to do whatever the hell he wants. It might be good not to kill him.”
“Huh? Why?”
“Because where he goes there will be alien artifacts, and next time, I want to the one holding the artifact and mocking him.”
Shay leapt from the roof of the office building and landed with a smooth roll on the next building. She ran close to the edge to keep Durand’s black SUV in sight. The dense DC traffic was slowing him down, which helped.
Peyton’s and Shay’s research had managed to turn up a plane itinerary placing Durand in Washington DC, and a quick trip across the country was far more practical than waiting for the next time the asshole showed up halfway across the world. That didn’t mean shadowing the French retrieval specialist was easy.
Now that Shay was onto the man, she had only her skills to draw on. She had no open line to Peyton and no drones. Electronics could fail or be traced, and a paranoid asshole like Durand would be looking for something like that anyway. She doubted he’d bother to check the roofs of nearby buildings to see if someone was using parkour to trail him, though. Until a few days ago, she would have never thought of the idea herself.
Thanks, Marcus. Because you pissed me off, I’ve been learning a new useful skill. Next time I see you, I’ll thank you after I punch you in the nose.
After a few more blocks of slow-moving traffic, the SUV pulled into a parking lot. Shay ducked and watched from the edge of her current roof.
Durand emerged, along with two other suited men. He gestured toward a tall office building across the street, but Shay was too far to hear away what he was saying.
Should get some sort of portable laser mic if I’m gonna be stalking guys through DC.
The men nodded and headed toward the crosswalk. Durand strode the opposite way, his hands in his pockets.
What are you up to, asshole? Got a meeting you don’t even want any goons to overhear?
Now that her quarry was out of his vehicle, shadowing him from above was trivial. Shay continued jumping from rooftop to rooftop, with the help of the occasional ledge or balcony. Durand continued walking at a swift but not extreme pace, as if he had plenty of time to arrive at his eventual destination.
Just taking a stroll? Looking for your favorite bakery?
Durand glanced around every once in a while, but never up. Good instincts, just not good imagination. Shay grinned.
Hitting the ground at this point would only increase the chance he’d spot me. I’ll just follow him to wherever he’s going and figure out how to handle him from there.
The blond man stopped right in front of an alley and spent even longer than usual looking around. Once finished, he ducked into it, disappearing from view.
“Damn it.”
Shay sprinted forward to get a better viewing angle on the alley from the roof. Durand was nowhere in sight, but he hadn’t time to walk all the way down the alley either. Several doors faced the alley, but none were open.
Doubt you teleported, you slippery bastard. Which door? Guess I have to get closer.
Shay jumped from the roof edge onto a fire escape, grabbed the handrail and flipped down to a nearby balcony, then to a closed trash bin. A quick jog across the street brought her to the mouth of the alley after a few loud horn blasts from angry motorists.
She entertained herself with the thought that she’d just pissed off some douchebag Congressman.
The back doors to several buildings—restaurants, by the looks of them—opened into the alley. Boxes, trash bags, and two commercial-sized green garbage bins were in the alley, but there was no sign of Durand.
He went in one of these buildings, but which one?
Shay took a few careful steps forward and searched for a stray footprint or handprint that might mark the man’s trail.
“Impressive, Aletheia,” commented an annoyingly familiar French voice from behind her.
The tomb raider spun and yanked out her gun.
Durand already had his gun out and pointed at her, an amused smirk on his face.
Shay narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you shoot me when you had the chance?”
“It’s as I told you before—I’m impressed with you. Very few people can follow me for any length of time without me being aware of it. Not only that, the fact you could even find me to follow me is impressive. Even though I don’t hide behind an alias like you, it’s not as if I announce my movements to the world.” He gave her a cheerful grin and shrugged. “I’m guessing, though, that you aren’t here to kill me.”
“That’s undecided as of yet, asshole.”
“So feisty. If this is about the wheel, you’re too late. It’s already been passed along to my clients. Even if you tortured me for days, you wouldn’t recover it.”
“Your clients at Project Nephilim?”
The corner of Durand’s mouth turned up. “You’ve made a lot of assumptions, but that doesn’t mean I need to verify them. You know far less than you think you do.” He gestured with his gun toward her. “Put your weapon away and I’ll stow mine, or we could try to kill each other now. It seems a pointless waste of talented lives, but it’s a cruel world we inhabit.”
He’s probably wearing a vest, so I’d have to tag him in the head, but I’m not wearing a vest because of mobility, so he gets my head and whole center of mass for lethal target practice.
Shay slowly lowered her gun. Durand mirrored her movement, and both holstered their weapons under their jackets.
The Frenchman let out a contented sigh. “It’s so easy to accidentally shoot someone. That feels much better, don’t you think?”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that.”
“Don’t be so annoyed, Aletheia. You’re much better at this than I was when I started, but you’re still a…” He frowned. “What’s a good word? Trainee, perhaps? Ah, I know.” He snapped. “Still a rookie.”
“I’m not a fucking rookie. My record speaks for itself.”
Durand shrugged. “From my perspective you are. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have. I long ago even abandoned the silly pretension of calling myself a ‘tomb raider’ or ‘field archaeologist.’”
Shay snorted. “Oh, ‘retrieval specialist’ is so much better?”
“There’s a certain clarity to it, but it also reflects the larger scope of what I do. I retrieve things, not just from musty old ruins or strange out-of-the-way places, but sometimes, as you saw, from people who no longer deserve to have them.”
“How useful you are.”
Durand shrugged and scratched his cheek. “You’re on your way to becoming more than a mere tomb raider. That’s something to look forward to.” He clucked his tongue. “So many interesting adventures! Pulling those artifacts off the Mahogany Ship for instance, and whatever you were doing in Paris. I don’t know what you were after, but there certainly was a lot of strange things reported, even though using an EMP like that in a crowded area was a sloppy move.”
Shay didn’t care if that hadn’t been her fault. The retrieval specialist didn’t need to know anything about her. Just because they weren’t shooting each other in that alley didn’t mean things wouldn’t end in blood eventually.
“You think I’m gonna tell you anything?” Shay snapped.
“No, I don’t, but as I’ve just proven, I know more about you than you know about me. I’m going to give
you a little friendly advice, Aletheia. You need to stop poking your nose into my work. You’ve already lost the wheel, so you have no reason to follow up on any of this just because you think you know a few things.”
“Like the fact you snatched a three hundred-million-year-old out-of-place artifact from an old lady?”
“It’s just a hunk of metal. In many ways, it’s worthless.”
Shay snorted. “It was worth a million dollars to me, and if it’s so worthless, why did your employers care enough to have you go get it?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “People can misinterpret things. Sometimes it’s best to just help them not do that. See, even you have made a few leaps of logic, you’ve taken a few things out of context and read a few rumors online and convinced yourself of something that’s not true.”
“You don’t know what I believe or know.”
Durand chuckled.
Shay stared at him, not saying anything for several seconds. For all his smugness and skills, he wasn’t infallible. From what he’d said, he obviously believed she only knew about him through the Project Nephilim records, and he hadn’t alluded to the alien stone she’d recovered from Mexico.
He doesn’t know I have it. He also doesn’t know about the one I grabbed for the Professor, or about Correk.
She was finally ahead of Durand.
Shay allowed herself a smirk. “Guess we’ll just see what happens. Exciting shit.”
Durand backed up slowly toward the street. At least he was smart enough not to turn his back on her.
“Don’t assume that next time I won’t deal with you more violently,” he warned.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, asshole.”
With a final wave, Durand stepped out of the alley and headed in the direction of the parking lot.
Shay took a few steps before stopping. Following him after he’d already surprised her was pointless. She gritted her teeth and tightened her hands into fists.
Think you’re better than me, Durand? I respect you for spotting me, but I’m gonna end up the best tomb raider, and I’m not gonna let you scare me off this alien shit.
19
Shay crossed her legs and stared at James’ tv. No matter how many times he insisted they watch some cooking show focusing on barbeque, she could never get into it. It wasn’t a matter of food preferences. As much as she loved pizza, the idea of watching a show about it didn’t appeal. Tasting food was always better than looking at it.
“What’s this again?” she inquired.
James leaned forward, his face scrunched in concentration. “The start of the new season of Barbeque Wars: The Next Generation. A lot of fair-weather barbeque fans won’t be watching, though.” He shook his head, disappointment on his face. “Idiots.”
“Why’s that? Did the producers get accused of lewd acts with a llama or something?”
“Nope. It’s all human competitors this season. Not saying Nadina doesn’t bring something special to the barbeque world, but people need to remember all the quality human pit masters.”
Shay snickered. “Yeah, fuck those Oricerans. Earth! Earth! Earth! USA! USA! USA!”
Watching barbeque shows might not be fun, but teasing her man about them was.
James grunted. “It’s not about that. I don’t care as long as people make good barbeque, but it’s not supposed to be solely about novelty.” He shrugged. “You know what? We should head to Vegas soon and go to Jessie Rae’s.”
“James, I don’t hate barbeque, but I don’t love it so much that I want to marry it, unlike you. I’m not going all the way to Vegas just for some barbeque.”
“While we’re there we can do some other shit, too.”
Shay thought that over for a few seconds and nodded. Getting a little sweaty in some nice silk sheets in a fancy resort might be fun, at least when she had the time for it.
“I’m in the middle of some job shit right now, but maybe in a few weeks.”
“Hell, when summer vacation starts, we should go grab Alison and take her there. She told me that going to that Broadway show was really fun. She could really see the energy of the crowd and the performers, and she wants to see more shows like that.”
“Yeah, Alison… I guess that can work.”
Shay stopped herself from sighing. So much for a hot and sweaty weekend of passion.
It wasn’t like she could complain about James wanting to spend more time with the girl he was in the process of adopting, and, for that matter, a girl she liked. While Shay wasn’t ready to think of her as a daughter like James, she couldn’t dismiss that the girl had become important to her.
A quiet chuckle escaped her mouth.
This is the problem with all new parents: their cockblock kids.
James looked at Shay, confused. “What’s so funny?”
“Oh, nothing. Uh, was just thinking of some weird-ass outfit Peyton was wearing the other day.”
“He really does like his freaky outfits.”
She shrugged. “He considers them fashion-forward.”
James grunted. “Whatever the fuck that means.”
Shay laughed.
Good. I should let this shit distract me. The last thing I need to do is let James figure out that I was running around DC going after another tomb raider who is knee-deep in alien shit.
James picked up the remote and turned the tv off. Shay didn’t bother to harass him about using voice recognition. Even he got annoyed with a joke run into the ground.
“Your show wasn’t over,” Shay pointed out. “You don’t have to stop it because of me. I’ll live. Maybe I’ll learn something about barbeque.”
“I can watch it later. I like re-watching them anyway.”
“Even though you have a photographic memory?”
“A memory isn’t like living through something.” James shook his head. “We should talk. All the websites say so.”
Shay rolled her eyes. “Do they, now?”
James nodded. “Yeah. So, how you holding up?”
“Huh? What are you talking about? I’m fine.”
“Just saying, you said all that shit about the old Shay Carson being dead after we took out the cartel. I may not be good with this sharing feelings crap, but all this alien shit has taught me a thing or two about having to leave your old life behind.”
Shay held up a hand. “Seriously, James, I’m fine. I still have to be careful, but I don’t feel like I need to look over my shoulder as much with the cartel wiped out.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Why you asking?”
James frowned and looked away. “I don’t know. I’m still new at this relationship shit, but sometimes I feel like you’re hiding something from me.”
Damn it, James. Half the time you’re as observant as a brick, but now you have to start paying attention?
Shay placed a hand on his cheek. “Look, I’ve spent my entire life never trusting anyone but myself. This shit’s gonna take time. It’s not you, it’s me.”
He grimaced. “Shit, the websites talked about that, too.”
She laughed. “Okay, bad word choice, but you know what I mean. Don’t let it get to you. If anything important comes up, I’ll let you know.”
Trust me, James. I’m hiding this for your own good. You aren’t ready for the weight of knowing about all this government alien program shit.
James grunted. “If you need some ass-kicking help on a raid, you know you can ask me.”
“Yeah, yeah, but if I get too used to dragging your ass along I’m gonna get sloppy.”
“Just saying.”
Shay patted James on the shoulder. “Not to mention, a lot of times tomb raids require finesse. I love you, but you have the finesse of rabid junkyard dog.”
“Ass-kicking doesn’t require finesse.”
“Tomb raids aren’t usually about ass-kicking. It’s not always about just killing the first warlock you run into. Besides, you know what they say.”
James
frowned. “What?”
“’Absence makes the heart grow fonder.’”
Shay leaned over and stared at Peyton’s screen. Dozens of file names filled it, but they all looked like gibberish to her.
“What am I looking at?”
“Other files I found on government servers,” Peyton explained.
Osiris lay on the table right in front of the mouse. He watched his owner move it back and forth as if plotting to attack the peripheral.
“And what’s so special about these government files? Lists of politicians’ favorite porn or something?”
Peyton chuckled. “I think seeing that would scar me. No, it turns out there’s more to Project Nephilim than what I originally found. It also turns out the only reason I could even get those files is that they weren’t as protected as they could have been.”
“Seriously?”
“I think they’re not as important as other stuff. Lower priority.”
Shay blinked. “Wait, a secret government alien research program is not as important as something else?”
“Yep. There’s another project, in addition to Houdini and Nephilim. Something else they seem to be dumping even more money into. Project Ragnarok.”
“Ragnarok? Is Durand attached to that project as well?”
Peyton nodded. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I did find a few records that indirectly link him to Project Ragnarok. I’m also guessing the project name isn’t all that random.” At Shay’s raised eyebrow, he held up a hand. “Not saying they are planning the death of the Norse gods or something, but what if they know more about this alien stuff than we think? What if the Nephilim stuff was just some low-end work they shoved off for deniability? Or maybe they’ve figured out more since those Nephilim reports were submitted.”
