by K. T. Tomb
After dinner, Demetri and Thorin went back to their posts. At around 11p.m., they would check the locks on the shutters of the parking bay, come upstairs and shut down the elevator, then they would take shifts and while one of them slept, the other would watch the surveillance camera footage and guard the team.
“Oscar, did you set up your magic machine yet?” Chyna joked.
“Yes Ma’am. I’m just about ready to do the first sweep for the professors’ cell phone. You got the IMEI?”
“Actually, I’ve got a few,” Lana replied, handing him the piece of paper. “Apparently our friend carries two phones. One is personal and the other is university issue, one iPhone and one Blackberry. But he’s had the Blackberry upgraded several times over his tenure; apparently the University of Athens likes to keep their professors up on the latest technology. No one was sure which of those three was the most recent.”
“Alrighty then,” Oscar said in his signature southern drawl. “Let’s get ‘er done!”
While Oscar started clacking away on his keyboard, Chyna turned her attention, and that of the others, to the huge file that had been retrieved from the professor’s office. It was absolutely overflowing with ancient maps, modern charts and pages and pages of research which made it painfully obvious that Professor Cartwright had not been completely truthful with them during their discussions on the topic. Not because he was hiding holding out on them, but because he quite obviously knew the importance of remaining discrete. He knew way more that he had been telling them; no wonder he had been taken. Whoever had the professor knew that he could lead them straight to the site of Artemesia’s ships if he wanted to.
They sorted all the papers in the file into smaller batches: wreck location, history of the Battle, maps and charts and personal theories. When they got to the last of them, Chyna noticed a piece of the professor’s personal stationery jutting out from a pocket in the cover of the docket. She took it out and read it.
“I’ve found our clue boys and girls!” she announced triumphantly. “It seems that our dear friend was being threatened.”
“Oh, dear gods!” Fariha cried. “By whom?”
“By our other dear friend, Mr. Doyle.”
“That rat!” Lana chimed in.
“Um, who’s Doyle?”
“Don’t you read the dossier anymore Oscar?” Lana admonished. “He’s the guy who Cartwright kicked off the dig for trying to force himself on Fariha.”
Fariha blushed and lowered her head. She did her very best to avoid Oscar’s eyes, but when someone called attention to her it was extremely difficult to remain inconspicuous.
“Sorry Fariha,” Lana replied immediately. “But he should read his dossier before he gets to a job. That’s what the long flights are for, not for stretching out and sleeping in the First Class reclining seats.” Then she turned to Chyna and said, “Be sure to book him coach from now on.”
“Right,” Chyna continued, brushing the comment aside. “It seems that ever since his expulsion from the site, Doyle had been threatening to destroy the professor’s career. He was planning to use the professor’s own research to locate the ships himself, and then imply to the Greek authorities that the professor had sold their claim on the Minoan Mask out to the Turks, while he kept the mask for himself.”
“Hmmm!” Fariha scoffed, forgetting her earlier discomfort. “Does it give us anything apart from implicating Doyle?”
“Well there’s the name of a company and an address. It’s in Izmir, but the address is clearly residential, not commercial.”
“Let’s check it out.” Lana suggested.
“Oscar, could you look up Reneseree Industries please?” Chyna asked.
“Re-nes-er-ee Industries,” repeated Oscar. “Seems like it’s a shipping company out of Istanbul, has offices in Izmir as well. They specialize in stationary carriers, you know the type that can keep cargo stationary at sea for extended periods of time like when the port gets too full or there’s a need to intercept another ship to consolidate a shipment.”
“Interesting,” said Lana.
“Check this address out,” Chyna said, handing the paper to Oscar.
“That’s the address of a men’s shelter.”
“A men’s shelter?” Chyna’s question was interrupted.
“What?” Lana asked. “How the hell is that supposed to help? It doesn’t add up.”
“There’s something more to it than that.” Fariha stood and began pacing the room. “It’s not a straightforward clue. The professor would know that anybody who got their hands on the file would find the note. What if it fell into the wrong hands? It’s a cryptic puzzle, like those impossible crosswords he loved so much.”
“Loves,” Lana corrected. “We are not memorializing him.”
“You’re right, Fariha,” Chyna said. “We’re going to have to think like Cartwright to solve this one.”
They sat silently for a moment while each pondered the clues and Oscar ran each cell phone IMEI code one by one. Lana got up and started toward the kitchen to do the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen. She loaded the coffee pot and started the brew when suddenly Fariha suddenly spoke up.
“Elementary, my dear Watson, elementary!” she exclaimed.
“What is it?” Chyna asked, as Oscar and Lana burst out laughing.
“There’s a company name and there’s the address of a men’s shelter.”
“Yes, we already know that!” said Lana.
“The professor is trying to tell us that we will find him or the kidnapper, or both of them at a residence that belongs to the man who owns Reneseree Industries.”
“Hot damn!” exclaimed Oscar. Turning back to his keyboard, he added “Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle. Does anybody want to guess who that man is?”
“Who is it, Oscar?” Fariha asked, saying his name for the first time and relishing the sound of it.
“Its Ferdinand Doyle, Ethan Doyle’s father I’d assume.”
“Get me that address!” Chyna said.
The next morning found all six of them on their way to Athens International Airport to board a direct flight to Izmir’s Adnan Menderes International Airport. They moved quickly and boarded the plane ahead of all the other passengers; taking their seats in First Class and being vigilant of every other passenger who boarded the flight. Only after the flight crew had closed the doors, were Demetri and Thorin satisfied and took their seats. With no dossiers to read, they all tried to get some rest, even though the flight was less than an hour long.
In Izmir, they settled into the top floor suites at the Izmir Palas Hotel. It was the safest and most diplomatically literate hotel in the city, according to Chyna’s sources at the United States Consulate. It also helped that it was right up the street from the consulate. Once the men had done their routine security sweep, Chyna and her team moved in and started unpacking the gear. She took off her leather jacket and hung it in the closet as she always did. Then she opened the safe in her closet and placed the holster with her SIG, her tools and her tech bag inside it. She set the code and locked it. She placed the little folding suitcase stand inside the closet, put her suitcase on top of it and closed the closet doors.
In the living room, Fariha was leaning over Oscar’s shoulder with a look of amazement while he was showing her something on the computer. Thorin spoke steadily into a two way radio with Demetri who was setting up the remote surveillance cameras at strategic locations. Lana was making tuna sandwiches for everybody’s lunch.
“So, boss lady, what’s our next move,” she asked, as Chyna joined her in the kitchen.
“I think we had better lay low until Megamind over there gets a decent ping on the professor’s phone,” Chyna quipped. “How’s that coming along by the way?”
“I just got started, Chyna. Can’t you cut a dude a little slack?”
“You’re from the South, Oscar. Don’t you know what happens to a cowboy when his saddle’s got a little slack?” she paused a little before fi
nishing the statement.
Oscar turned bright red and he started to scowl.
“He falls off the horse! Now getting hopping!”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Fariha, make yourself useful and set up the pin boards over there,” Chyna said, pointing at the sea facing windows. “I want that entire viewpoint blocked off solid,”
“Yes, Ma’am,” she replied, mimicking Oscar which made everyone, even Thorin, laugh aloud.
As the sun set over the canal that evening, Chyna sat at the table staring at the map they had singled out from Professor Cartwright’s collection. There was something about it. It seemed that whenever the light that was hitting it changed, some things would be highlighted and some things would be obscured. She had seen that phenomenon before but she just couldn’t put her finger on what it was. The bright orange and yellow and gold light of the setting sun filled the room, making well lit enough to still see but just unlit enough to succumb to the use of overhead lighting. Demitri hit the light switches and as the fluorescent tube over Chyna’s head popped to life, she saw it.
“Oh! The gods!” she cried. “Oscar, did you bring the black light lantern?”
“Of course I did,” he replied. “Need it?”
“I sure do. Fariha, Lana, come see this.”
When Oscar returned with the black light, Chyna took the chart from the pin board and laid it out on the table. She took the lantern and switched it on then positioned it over the portion of the map that showed the ocean off the coast near Cesme, Turkey. Right before their eyes, on the plain parchment, a cluster of dark shapes appeared. Beside the dark blobs was an even darker line which ran between the blobs and the coastline.
“What is that?” Fariha asked pointing to the line, as Lana squealed with delight.
“It’s the Chios-Samos ridge,” Chyna replied. “Ships have been sailing the canal over that wreck site since time immemorial and no one ever thought that they could be there, no one except Professor Cartwright.”
***
The next afternoon, they all left the hotel through a back exit and took the short drive down to the United States Consulate.
Chyna and the bodyguards sat with a very intelligent and ambitious young C.I.A. agent named Ricardo Perez and made legal declaration of their firearms and submitted copies of their conceal carry licenses to back it up. They also confirmed that their credentials had been forwarded by the university so that the local antiquity authorities could be made aware of their expedition and grant the necessary licenses and permission to go ahead and dive the site. Now that they had an exact location, the whole process was anticipated to go a lot smoother.
Ricardo was extremely interested in history and the work that Chyna’s group was doing. He even confessed to having applied for permission to attend the opening of the Minoan exhibition but sadly, he had been denied the leave to travel to Athens. Chyna regaled him with stories of the dig in Knossos and some of her other adventures and in the end it was certain that she had just gained a new admirer and certainly an ally. Oscar took the opportunity to use the consulate’s secure internet connection to check the ping he had gotten off of the professor’s phone the night before. It was weak but it was definitely good and it hadn’t moved either. Lana made arrangements with a diving and salvage company in Cesme to take them out to the site in two days time.
With all their business complete, the team made a quick stop at a grocery store about five miles from their hotel and then drove back to Ataturk Caddesi. It was 7 p.m. and completely dark by the time they arrived. As soon as she walked into their suite, Chyna knew something was wrong. She stopped dead in her tracks and she quickly drew the pistol from its holster. Crouching slightly, she signaled to the others to step back and allow Demetri and Thorin to come close to her back. She signaled for Demetri to take the left and Thorin the right, and then they moved forward sweeping the hotel suite. Room after room they searched the apartment until they got to Chyna’s room. As they moved in through the door, Chyna caught sight of some movement in the living room. She tapped Thorin on the shoulder and they both turned back silently. As they did so, a figure in full black ran from behind the drapes, through the open sliding doors and sailed over the ledge of the balcony. They chased after the figure, unable to fire shots into the open night, but when they got there and looked over there was no one there, just a treble hook and rope hanging from the railings. A large sheet of paper, which she recognized immediately, was to her right caught in the branches of a palm tree that hung over the balcony. Chyna snatched it quickly and rolled it up, tucking it into her jacket. She was furious. She shut the sliding doors and locked them shut, the lock seemed loose; clearly it had been tampered with. Demetri pulled the thick drapes closed while Thorin turned the lights on and made his way back to the front door.
“What happened?” they all asked.
“There was someone inside the apartment,” Chyna replied. Before they could ask any further questions she began to issue the orders, “Demetri, Thorin, get hotel security up here right away. Oscar, check the tech and make sure nothing has been compromised. Don’t forget the cameras; see if we have any footage of this guy. Lana, Fariha, check your rooms and see if anything is missing.”
“Hey, what about my stuff? Don’t you care if anything of mine is missing?” Oscar asked.
“Like I said Oscar, check the tech and make sure it hasn’t been compromised.”
After fifteen minutes, everyone regrouped in the living room.
The head of hotel security had arrived. He was an American and he had brought a couple of local cops with him.
“I’m very sorry for this intrusion Miss Stone. I assure you no one has ever scaled the walls of the Izmir Palas Hotel before.”
“I don’t doubt that Chief. This is a different breed we’re dealing with here.”
She turned to her team. “Anything missing?”
“Nothing,” Lana and Fariha both said.
“Everything seems in order here,” Oscar said from the desk.
“Well, I guess I was the target this time Chief,” Chyna said sadly, as she returned from checking her own room. “They cracked the safe in my room, made off with $5000 in cash and all the travel documents for my team. Some of our research papers are gone from the table over there too.” When Chyna pointed to the dining table, they all realized that the “black light” map was gone. She considered telling them about the rolled up map she had tucked inside her jacket, but decided that the best kept secret was the one which you told to no one.
“Everything seems to be except the map,” Lana commented after shuffling through the papers on the table.
“Gather it all up,” she ordered. “Get your bags packed too.”
“This officer will take all of your statements Miss Stone while Officer Kasri and I try to see if we can lift any fingerprints from the safe in your room.”
“Do what you have to Chief, but my team and I are getting out of here tonight.”
She pressed a speed dial button on her phone, spoke a couple of code words, disconnected the call and placed the phone back into her jacket pocket.
“Fifteen minutes, team, move it!”
***
It took Agent Anthony Stewart five minutes to get to Chyna’s suite at the Izmir Palas Hotel and fifteen to get her team and all their equipment out of it.
He set them up in his own home across town. An ancient looking brownstone which stood on a little rise set back about a quarter acre from the street. It was Izmir’s “diplomat row” according to the F.B.I. agent, and he reassured them that they would be safe there. With his own guard already on duty around the clock, he even made a joke that Demetri and Thorin were more than welcome to have their first full night’s sleep in weeks. Chyna thanked her friend profusely and reassured him that they would be out of his way in a couple of days.
“What are you talking about, Chyna? You guys are welcome to stay with me here for as long as you like. I’m actually kinda upset that
you didn’t come to me to begin with.”
“I didn’t want to impose,” she replied.
Anthony knew that as code for her not needing her every connection known to the people who were with her. He dropped the argument immediately, he had noticed the newcomer but he hadn’t had a discreet moment to ask Chyna about her yet.
When everyone had been shown to their rooms, Anthony quickly returned downstairs where he knew Chyna would be waiting for him in his small library. She had poured herself a drink of whiskey and was glancing over the books on his shelf. He poured some bourbon over ice and joined her.
“You have some new things here, Tony. Very exciting.”
“Really? The books are exciting you? You’re hurting my feelings, doll.”
He put his free arm around her waist and pulled her to him.
“Are you sure you didn’t call because you were trying to avoid me?”
“I’d never be so underhanded and mean, Tony. Come on, you know me way better than that.”
“So, I was right, it’s the Greek girl.”
“Yes. She is a long time student of Professor Cartwright’s and it’s clear he trusted her. That’s all well and good but I’ve still only known her for seven months or so.”
“It’s good you stick to protocol Chyna, things can go south really fast when you don’t.”
“I try my best to keep myself and those around me as safe as humanly possible, Tony.”
“Your compassion, dedication... It’s so sexy,” he said, kissing her softly behind the ear.
She pulled away from him and strolled casually toward the door. She closed it and turned the lock before returning to his side.
“I’ve never compromised a team or a mission,” she whispered into his ear.
“Neither have I. If you remember well, this library is sound proof,” he said, as his lips met hers.
Chapter Three