“Ye want to rob someone?
He shook his head. “Not someone. Something.”
“Stores?”
“Nope.” He smiled. “Banks, baby. We’ll rob banks.”
I stared back at him. I knew I couldn’t say no.
I knew I didn’t want to.
I’d found my new life.
Egyptian Eyes and Irish Lies
The trip out to the deserted farmhouse was bumpy and silent. The bumps came from the dirt road that tossed Niall’s small car about. The car lurched left and right and in and out of the deep ruts, rattling my teeth. The rust bucket creaked in protest with each jolt. I wondered again if the bottom would fall out before we reached our destination.
The silence was because I didn’t entirely trust the fucker Niall.
The car lurched to a stop at the end of the lane. Niall killed the engine and beamed over at me. “Are ye ready to see something grand?”
“If ye’re only trying to impress me to get into my knickers, save yerself the trouble,” I told him. “That’s not happening.”
He gave me a sly smile and said nothing.
I sighed. I wanted to tell him that one time-a drunken mistake, at that-doesn’t mean a pile of shite, but it wouldn’t do any good. He’d only smile wider.
“Why are we here?” I asked instead.
“Ye’ll see,” he said, pulling the keys from the ignition. Without a word, he opened the car door and got out.
I cursed in old Irish and followed him.
Niall strode to the front door of the faded, leaning farmhouse with confidence, his swagger more pronounced than usual. I walked behind him, more cautious. I didn’t think he’d be fool enough to take a girl out into the country and rape her, but with some lads, you never know. He’d have a surprise coming if he tried, though.
The windows to the farmhouse were all either broken or boarded over. The roof had fallen into disrepair. I wondered briefly how much of the interior remained dry when the rains came.
At the door, Niall paused. He gave a knock, paused again, then gave another series of knocks.
“Secret Agent Man,” I whispered sarcastically.
Niall shot a hard glance over his shoulder at me. “Mind yer tongue. This is serious business.”
“Oh, really? But a moment ago, ye were giddy like a schoolboy. Now, suddenly, it’s serious business?”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s for the Cause, lass. Now shut yer gob.”
“Go feck yerself.”
He turned around and took a step toward me. “Don’t think ye’re above getting yer pretty little arse beat.”
The door cracked open and a voice filtered out. “Brian?”
Niall’s jaw clenched. He pointed his finger at me and jabbed it in the air. Then he raised his eyebrows to ask if I understood his warning.
I figured the man takes himself far too seriously, but I nodded back to him all the same. It was more out of curiosity than anything. That and being in the middle of the nowheres with him and now a second man, too.
“Brian?” The voice behind the door repeated. The question was followed by a metallic click.
My ears pricked up at that. I’d heard enough gun hammers cocked to know the sound.
“No, lad,” Niall said, turning away from me. “It’s me. Niall.”
There was a pause, then the door swung open. “Get in here. Quickly.”
Niall walked through the door. I hesitated.
“Ah, feckin’ Jaysus. Ye brought her?”
I recognized Sean’s voice then. I’d have sighed again, except I knew that while I couldn’t always trust Niall, Sean was off his nut. And he had a gun, the plonker. I didn’t figure it wise to provoke him.
“Well, get yer arse in here, then,” he snapped at me. He waved his empty hand in my direction. Then he looked over my shoulder at Niall’s car. “Aw, fer Christ’s sake, Niall. Why don’t ye jes’ put out a feckin’ sign that says ‘Here Be Rebels?’ What’re ye thinking, parking right out in the open like that?”
“Dry up, Sean, and let Shae in.”
Sean rolled his eyes and waved me inside. I stepped through the door and into a musty living room. A lantern glowed on the mantel of the old stone fireplace. In the corner, I spotted a wooden box full of groceries and a sleeping bag. That wasn’t nearly so interesting as the coffin covered in a sheet next to it.
“Ah, Jaysus,” I murmured, a small spike of fear cutting through my stomach. “Don’t be telling me that the two of ye went and killed someone.”
“What if we did?” Niall said.
I motioned at the covered coffin. “Then I’d say it was right grand of ye to provide him with all he needs for a proper burial.”
Niall smirked.
I didn’t know why he’d asked me out to this farmhouse, but I decided it was time to get to the core of it. “If ye did kill someone,” I told him, “then that’s yer own feckin’ business. Ye don’t need to be bringing me into it.”
Niall said nothing.
I stepped closer to him. “And further, ye can drop the tough man o’ Sinn Fein pose. I’m not impressed.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “No, nor scared, neither.”
I gave him a hard stare. When you’re twelve and see your own father gunned down in the street outside his own house, it takes a lot more than some dramatic posing by a couple of pub-spawned patriots to shake a girl.
“She’s got a hard neck, this one,” Brian said. “And all this time, I just thought she was just some ride from the pub.”
“Shut yer gob,” I snapped, without looking at him. I continued to stare at Niall. “Now, do ye want to tell me why we’re here?”
Niall smiled the same goofy grin he’d flashed out in the car. “I’ll go ye one better. I’ll show ye the reason.”
With a flourish, he pulled the sheet from the coffin.
Only, it wasn’t a coffin.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, shocked.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Sean whispered.
I glanced over at him. He de-cocked the pistol and tucked it into his belt. Then he nodded toward the golden sarcophagus. “That there is a woman inside. Ahwere is her name.”
I turned back to the sarcophagus. The lantern light played off the intricate hieroglyphics painted upon golden exterior. The regal, stoic face of an ancient Egyptian woman stared up at the deteriorating farmhouse roof. Her black eyes spoke of ages gone by.
“How…?”
Niall pointed at Sean. “He’s the hero, lass.”
Sean smiled proudly. “All I did was see an opportunity for the Cause and take it,” he said.
My mind whirred. I tried to push aside the wonder that came with the beauty of this relic. I had to know what these two eejits were getting me into. With an effort, I tore my gaze away from all that lovely gold.
“Ye took it from a museum?” I asked. “Jaysus, lads, the Peelers will be looking for it high and low.”
Sean shook his head. “Feckin’ thing was hidden in the old Hunt estate. Goddamn Yank found it. We took it from there.”
“Still, won’t the Hunts report it missing?”
“Not likely,” Sean snorted. “They didn’t even know it was there. Feckin’ English pillaged so much treasure in the world, they forget where they hide it all.”
“That doesn’t seem right. Who forgets something like this?” I glanced back down at the deep dark eyes of the woman’s face.
Ahwere, Sean had called her.
“Look,” Sean told me. “The Yank said that one of them hid it there seventy-some years ago. I don’t think anyone else knew about it. He figured it out from some of the old papers the pillager left behind.”
“Who?”
“Randal Hunt. The Yank was studying the entire family — ”
“The graduate student? The one from the pub?”
“Aye. Dex. He figured it out. He found it in a secret room behind a wall in the basement.”
“He tore down a wall?”
“I tore down the feckin’ wall,” Sean corrected. “Skinny bastard watched and played the boss. We found the mummy and hauled it out.”
“Who saw you?”