>>5460058> “Not quite yet, Jack. Gonna nose around a bit first and see what I can see. Think I’m due for a little bit of good luck.”“Just be careful, Sean.”
> “Hey, when am I not?”Despite being separated by metric tons of stone, gravel, and bone, you can practically feel Jack staring at you for that one.
You resent that implication, it’s not like you’re <span class="mu-s">that</span> reckless or anything. Sure, you pick fights with international crime cartels for fun and profit immediately after escaping unsanctioned federal custody, but how else can you be expected to unwind?
Hell, unless you catch the attention of the JLA or something, you’ve carved out a nice little professional niche for yourself. Turns out that nobody cares overmuch if you save the rough treatment for other scumbags.
Anyhow, back to more important matters like looting.
You had briefly considered searching the reaper wannabe, but given that its been reduced to a rapidly putrefying puddle on the floor, you’re doubtful that you would accomplish anything other than getting your armor dirty.
Instead, you continue to follow some of its previous tracks, which eventually guides you to a small room dug into the side of a tunnel.
Judging from the antique wiring and dust coating every surface, this room hasn’t had a human being inside for decades at the least. The identity of the previous occupant quickly becomes clear when you notice a grimy, moth-eaten flag sporting a swastika.
At first glance, the room looks like a listening post of sorts, probably established after the occupation during the early days of WW2.
You were ready to write the room off as a curious oddity, before an old safe stashed in the far corner catches your attention.
A bit of thermite and some elbow grease is enough to crack the mechanism, revealing its hidden contents; half a dozen gold bars bearing the stamp of the 3rd Reich.
Now that you’ve got a bit more info to work with, you conclude that this might’ve been some kind of emergency bolthole for Vichy French or Nazi occupiers in the later days of the war. It would explain the stockpile of gold at least, as well as the busted up radio equipment.
Well, their loss is your gain.
As for the bars themselves, you can barely believe your luck with such a find.
Even if you discount their historical providence, it’s still a kilogram of nearly-pure gold per bar. It’s not going to make you fabulously wealthy or anything, but it’ll be a welcome addition to your personal war chest. Hell, there were time when you would’ve done much worse for much less of a payoff.
You nose around the immediate area in case there are any more hidden caches, but come up short. Guess you’ll have to make due with only secret stash of gold bars.
> “Jack, you’ve got the green light to pull me out. I’m all done.”