Layla

Chapter 2: Geneva, Switzerland, 1962

Geneva, Switzerland

February 21, 1962

(10:00 am)

"Can I get you two anything else?" The Swiss waitress asked the couple sitting outside in the rather mild winter weather. 

Layla looked up from her paper and looked at the nice waitress. The young waitress was fairly well dressed for a waitress, Geneva was perhaps the second wealthiest city in the world aside from New York City. And the prices they were charging for brunch was more than she usually paid for dinner in Frankfurt. 

Since having decided a year ago to dedicate their time on the road, she and Erik had advanced their cause by more than they had in the nearly 13 years they had been on the path to revenge together; granted they had paused for five of those thirteen years. They had finally discovered one of the banks that knew about the Nazi criminals that kept their gold in their stores. 

She had come across a group of "treasure hunters" as they called themselves in Munich in October that had welcomed her with open arms thanks to her abilities and brought her to a warehouse where they stored all the gold bricks they had discovered throughout Europe. Walking out with a bar of gold with the Reichstag emblem on it had been a trip home. 

Erik had chastised her for not bringing him along, but she went anyway. Her abilities far outscored his own, if she had run into trouble she could have had all those supposed treasure hunters kill each other with barely a tip of the hat. His abilities relied on anger, a powerful emotion yes, but not nearly powerful enough to accept to not let his emotions dictate him.

After stealing the gold, she and Erik had come across a group of individuals with questionable morals regarding democracy, but they had been more than happy to give in information pertaining to banks that supposedly were involved in the trade of Nazi gold. Two months of meeting with those people had yielded the result of the Swiss National Bank in Geneva. 

Such a big bank too, one that had a lot to lose should any international groups discover it. The bank's future was of little concern to Layla as she only wanted information pertaining to Schmidt. One of the bank directors apparently had been a rather friendly financier of the Third Reich, and Schmidt's name was listed on one of the possible associates of this banker. 

"No thank you," Layla replied with a friendly smile on her face. "Can we get the check?" 

The waitress smiled right back and went back inside the cafe to get the check for their mid-morning meal. She was feeling generous this morning, the waitress would get the full amount on the bill and a tip. She had to save up her abilities, as if she actually had a limit, for noon. 

At noon she and Erik had an appointment with this supposedly Swiss-national banking director that would give them the information they needed pertaining to Schmidt's current location. Or at least that was the plan, she felt this time around they'd actually get a legitimate lead on Schmidt and find and at last get their revenge. 

Layla had become sick of running. She was nearly 31 years old, she wanted to return to her mundane life in Frankfurt translating news, books, and whatever shit they had her translate. She'd come home and fix dinner, Erik would arrive home after dinner was ready and they'd enjoy a peaceful evening in knowing they wouldn't have to leave to go interrogate some fool that may have a connection to Schmidt. 

Peace. How she wished for it. 

She looked at Erik, his attention on everything but her. He was paranoid, somehow he thought Schmidt would be foolish enough to be in Geneva, the home of the United Nations, the banks may be guilty and in plain sight, but Schmidt was not nearly that stupid. He would have left Europe shortly before the war ended, he could be anywhere, but not in Europe.