by K. T. Tomb
Lana chuckled to herself at the thought. They had been so greedy about the site and just as the lion’s share of the work was complete and ready to be shipped off, someone just swooped in and scooped it all up.
A laugh escaped her lips before she could stifled it. It gained her some strange looks from the others. Too bad those ‘someones’ had decided to scoop them up along with the pieces. She had admitted to Chyna within her first week there that the artifacts she was cataloging were a whole lot more impressive than she had originally anticipated.
One particular piece had been of specific interest; the dig team found it almost completely intact when they had excavated what they thought might be the great temple of Ninurta. The altar had been uncovered with hardly any damage to the beautiful idols and the mosaic that decorated the wall behind them.
There was a life-size statue of Ninurta with his legs in stride, his four wings were splayed as if ready for flight and in his hand he held two large-pronged spears. The depiction was of the god attacking a giant cockatrice-type monster that had a skeletal head, the body of a lion, and the flank of a bird of prey. But it didn’t seem in any way connected to the smaller idol that had caught Lana’s interest.
It was in the form of a serpent and made from one solid piece of perfect black hematite; large enough to be in scale with the giants’ foot but still of a size that was easy for one person to carry.
The serpent resembled a cobra with its hood spread but the fangs and scales were far more sinister. As Lana assessed it and made her notes the word that came to her to describe the creature before her with the large, red garnet eyes was: The Babylonian Basilisk.
***
Nigel laughed cheekily as he sent the satellite imagery to Chyna’s projector screen. Chyna and Siri stood looking at the disjointed map eagerly as he frantically typed on his keyboard, trying to home in on the signal. In the background, they could hear an incessant beeping noise that was apparently the sound the computer made as the tracking software was trying to get a position on the activated homing device.
A few moments later, a red dot appeared on the map and Nigel continued typing furiously. The image blurred, doubled in size and became clear again as it was magnified.
“Hang on a minute,” they heard Nigel announce over the speaker phone.
There was more clicking and beeping in the background.
“Alright, here we go!”
The image blurred, enlarged and re-focused a few more times until streets, alleys, the tops of buildings and open spaces became well defined and in some cases even labeled with their names. Chyna and Siri watched intently as a little red dot appeared on the screen and pulsed gently over one of the buildings.
“That’s it, Chyna,” Nigel announced. “That’s where she is.”
“Or at least that’s where her boots are; let’s hope that Lana is still in them.”
“What do you mean by that?” Sirita asked.
“Unfortunately Siri, every scenario we get ourselves into in our line of work comes with the possibility that things may not always have a ‘happy ever after’ ending. We always try to prepare ourselves for the worst case scenario.”
“You’re saying she may not still be alive, aren’t you?”
Chyna gave her a grave look and a little nod, and then returned her attention to the red dot on the screen and to Nigel over the phone.
“Nigel, could you put a watch on her, please? And get us the address of that building.”
“Sure thing, Miss Stone,” he replied.
“Thank you. I’ll let Oscar check in with you as soon as he arrives. You two will have to come up with a plan of how we can keep the track going until we actually get there.”
Chyna disconnected the call but kept on watching the screen on her office wall.
“We’re coming for you, Lana. Just hang in there.”
***
Chyna met Siri at the office at around eight the next morning and went straight over to the Hagia Sofia museum to meet with Rashid. He had spoken to the Eastman the night before, just as he had promised Chyna he would, and they both wanted to meet with her before she left for Iraq that afternoon. She was looking forward to their meeting in the hopes that her friend would be able to put a secret weapon in her arsenal for the trip.
Nigel checked in to say that the signal had not moved. Somehow, the news stirred mixed feelings in Chyna; there were more negatives associated with it not moving than if it had.
Zubeida, Rashid’s secretary, escorted them into his opulent office at the back of the museum. When the three women walked in, he was sitting on the edge of his large desk speaking animatedly in Arabic to the three other people in his office.
Chyna thought that maybe they had interrupted him in a meeting and looked expectantly at Zubeida who extended her arm signaling for them to proceed. Rashid stood and walked towards them with his hand extended to Chyna for a handshake.
“Welcome friends,” he said, jovially. “Come in, I want you to meet some people.”
Chyna recognized the Eastman, but she didn’t know who the man and woman with him were.
“Eastman!” she said, happily. “I have not seen you in quite a while. How have you been doing?”
“Miss Stone,” he replied, “What a pleasure to see you again. I’ve been well, thank you. I understand you are off on another adventure today.”
“Indeed,” Chyna confirmed as the smile faded from her face. “And it certainly isn’t under the most ideal circumstances. I take it Rashid has brought you up to speed?”
“He has. I am extremely sorry to hear about Miss Ambrose. How long have they been missing?”
“Well, the American team disappeared almost three weeks ago. Lana and the others have been gone for three days now.”
Rashid interrupted them at that point to introduce Sirita to the Eastman. Then he turned to the two people who were patiently waiting for the friends to finish their pleasantries.
“Chyna Stone,” he began, “I’d like you to meet Asha Khouri and Eli Bishara. These are two of our Watchers from Boğazkale. As I said yesterday, we don’t have anyone in the Foundation who operates that far to the east, but these two are originally from the Babil province. Their family has farmed those lands since the time of the Persian Empire so they know the territory inside and out.”
“I’m impressed,” Chyna said. “Your knowledge of the area will certainly be advantageous. Do either of you have any further connections in Iraq, particularly in Baghdad? I predict that the major portion of the operation will happen in that city since we have a location on Lana’s tracking device as being stationary in a building in the Baiyaa district.”
“I see,” Eli said, nodding his head. “My family has remained very rural, mostly working the family farm and taking jobs in tourism around the Babylon ruins, but Asha’s people have been living in Baghdad for decades.”
“It is true, but the amount of help available depends on what you think you will need, Miss Stone,” Asha said.
“Mostly information,” Chyna said, “But tactical support as well, about a dozen men, fully equipped for hostage retrieval. I’d rather not show up on the radar if I don’t have to.”
“I understand. I can do these things. Let me make a few calls.”
“Awesome,” Chyna summarized, as Rashid handed her a folder with some more background information on the two. “As Watchers, you have my utmost respect and trust. Rashid and Eastman think you are right for the assignment, so I am satisfied with that. Can you be ready and at the airport at one o’ clock this afternoon?”
They both nodded their confirmation.
“Great, we’ll have tickets ready for you at the check-in counter, see you then.”
Chyna turned to Sirita and instructed her to take their names, dates of birth and passport numbers and call the airline to book the tickets. While Siri made herself busy with that, Chyna spoke further to Rashid and Eastman.
“How are you holding up?” Rashid asked her.
“Okay for now, but the signal from the beacon hasn’t moved since we homed in on it and I don’t know what to make of that.”
“Do not worry, Miss Stone. It will be fine,” Eastman said.
“I hope so, Eastman. I really do.”
Chapter Three
There wasn’t much time left before Oscar’s plane would land at the airport and Demetri and Thorin were probably already through the immigration process and heading on to customs. The meeting with Rashid had certainly been fruitful; and they had added two experts on Iraq to their ranks.
Oscar’s plane was due to land at around ten thirty and their flight to Baghdad wasn’t scheduled to leave until close to three o’ clock. There wasn’t enough time for Oscar to leave the airport and freshen up at her house, so Chyna decided to book a room in the airport hotel where he could take a shower, have a meal and relax a little before they had to leave. The two bodyguards had been instructed to check in and secure the room if they arrived before she did. When they got to the airport, she and Siri would get checked in on the flight and send their bags on before retiring to the room to set up a temporary work space.
As she had anticipated, when they got to the front desk of the hotel, Sirita was informed that the room had already been checked in and they proceeded upstairs. Always on guard, Chyna took point and kept her hand on her SIG Sauer® M-11 pistol inside her jacket as they approached the door. She knocked on the door and waited for a response.
“Operation Ninurta,” came Thorin’s voice from behind the closed door.
“Ishtari’s retrieval,” Chyna replied, reholstering the gun and taking her hand from inside her leather jacket.
The locks were turned immediately by the satisfied bodyguard who rushed out to engulf her svelte body in a massive bear hug. When he saw Sirita behind her, he stiffened.
“Hey Thorin, how are you?” Chyna said, cheerfully. “This is Sirita, our office manager from the new office.”
“Hey, how do you do?”
“How do you do?” Sirita replied, primly.
They walked past the huge Swede and stepped into the beautiful room. It was one of the largest the hotel had to offer. Sirita had done a fantastic job of anticipating how much room they would need to be able to function for the hours they would be spending there. As soon as Chyna had greeted Demetri and introduced him to Sirita, she took out her laptop, logged on to the Found History server and called Nigel.
“Nigel, I’m going to need you to find an archery shop for me in the city. If there isn’t a place where I can get a compound matrix bow, I’m going to need to know that in less than an hour so I can arrange to take mine.”
“Sounds like you’re planning to get stealthy over there, Miss Stone,” he replied.
“If we’re dealing with a hostage situation, then we may have to, Nigel.”
“Understood. I’ll get right on it.”
“Could you also log onto Lana’s profile and download everything she’s uploaded to the server in the last week? I want to get a clear picture of what she was working on before she went missing. You never know, maybe we’ll find something helpful.”
“Good idea, Boss.”
It wasn’t long before Oscar knocked on the room door. Of course, he was a lot less cautious with his approach; he was still a bit of a novice. When he strolled in, Chyna smiled broadly.
“Where are you coming from, Cowboy?” Chyna quipped, making fun of how he was dressed. “Did we just fly you out of New York or was it Austin, Texas?”
“Awww, come on Boss Lady,” he groaned. “Give me a break. I left for that flight straight from work. I don’t even know what’s in my bag. I had to ask Sandra to go pack it for me.”
Oscar received raised eyebrows from both husky bodyguards when they got a good look at his leather and denim ensemble. He looked more than just a little bit like Crocodile Dundee, without the knife of course.
“Go take a shower and get some rest,” Chyna instructed. “I’m about to order some lunch.”
***
Lana yawned and stretched in an effort to relax the kink in her back. She had slept propped up against a concrete wall and it had been a rather cold night. As she rubbed the small of her back, two men in military style green uniforms came into the room carrying bottles of water and a bag of oranges. They carefully passed them out to Lana and the others.
“Is this all you’re going to give us?” a blond woman asked them boldly.
Lana turned quickly to look at her, shaking her head slowly trying to tell her to shut up. The men laughed at her and continued handing out the meager breakfast to the others.
“I’m starving and all you can give us is an orange?” the woman persisted, raising her voice.
Lana could see that she was genuinely upset and clearly not thinking straight. Just then, another man entered the room. He seemed to be someone who was in charge, at least of the other two who were tending to the hostages.
“What is she saying?” he asked the two men in Arabic.
They shrugged and continued with their work but the woman wouldn’t stop complaining. At that point, she stood up and threw the orange at the wall before collapsing to the floor crying. Lana sat peeling her orange as it was all playing out in front of her. The captain repeated his question. He was getting more and more agitated as the woman cried louder and louder.
“She’s asking if all we get for breakfast is an orange,” Lana said softly, in fluent Arabic.
The men turned to her in shock. They stood there scrutinizing the small brunette for a moment before the captain spoke to her directly.
“What is wrong with the fruit?”
“Nothing. She’s just really hungry. Don’t you guys have anything else we could eat? You haven’t given us anything since yesterday. We’re all starving.”
“These men were instructed to bring you supper last night. You are lying, woman. You’re a lying American.”
“The last thing we ate was the shawarma they took from the street vendor when we entered the city yesterday afternoon. No one brought us any supper.”
The captain went over to the two soldiers and hit them both over their heads. He cursed at them in another language that Lana could barely understand and she guessed that it must have been a rural dialect, Kurdish perhaps. The three men argued for a long time during which it was obvious that the captain was berating them.
Lana cringed at that. It wasn’t a good idea in any situation to aggravate one’s captors, when the captain eventually left they would remain at the mercy of the two embarrassed men.
“Bring them proper food,” the captain ordered, speaking Arabic again. “Thieves should have their hands removed but I have too few of you stupid buffalo to start dismembering you! So serve them like the thieving women that you are. Bring them khubz and bighilla and eggs. Don’t forget the tea, either.”
The captain turned to Lana and walked over to her. He offered her his hand to help her up from the ground which she gladly took since her back was still hurting. With his arm around her waist, Lana hobbled over to the boarded up windows with the captain.
“I apologize to all of you for the poor behavior of these fools. They are not used to the delicate art of kidnapping; they are more suited to hostage taking. Me and you, we can recognize the subtle differences between the two. They took your evening meal for themselves, so please do not think I’m not concerned with the welfare of you and your friends.”
“I will let the others know. Thank you.”
“I am Aziz; captain of these few men here.”
“I’m Lana.”
“Lana, they will bring you bread, beans and eggs, with tea. It is in the best interest of all involved that you are kept in the best of health and comfort.”
She laughed at the comment and shook her head slowly. The captain gave her a strange and questioning look.
“We need something to sleep on captain, it’s cold at night and we are used to much better than this. As kidnapped people we sho
uld have a proper place to sleep; unlike hostages, yes? As far as the distinction goes, we have no idea why we’re here, captain. Maybe if I could explain the situation to the others then they would be a little less antagonized.”
“The company they work for has been robbing the people of the Babil Valley for more than ten years by taking the relics from the ruins of Babylon and selling them to foreign museums and universities. The site was declared a World Heritage Site, so anything removed should be compensated for and all the jobs that support visitation of the site are required to go to resident natives of the immediate area.”
He paused for a moment and looked over her shoulder at the other investigators who were now being served their breakfast by the two soldiers.
“Instead, they hire foreign scientists who do not even take on any local apprentices and the tour site is staffed by people of a hundred different nationalities, most of which don’t even speak Arabic. They got their sanctions to be there from UNESCO but then they are left to run amok without so much as reports about the items they remove and where they are going. We believe that UNESCO should be made aware of the situation in Hillah; if they pay for their negligence as well, then we will regain at least a little of what we have lost.”
“Ransom,” Lana said. “…well played.”
Chapter Four
“Oscar, come on!” Sirita bellowed from around the table in the living room. “The food is getting cold and we’ve got to get going soon.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” he replied.
“Before Oscar and I ended up on assignment together in Greece, I never knew I’d meet a man who can primp more than a woman,” Chyna said jokingly.
Thorin chuckled at her comment while Demetri and Sirita exchanged amused grins. Finally Oscar appeared from the bedroom looking a whole lot better than he had going in. His jeans were no longer an homage to the pioneer man; they were slim and dark and modern. The cowboy hat was gone, leaving freshly shampooed, greaseless hair in its place. He no longer donned the comfortable plaid shirt he had traveled in; that he had replaced with a trendy, long-sleeved jersey shirt. It was a good look on him.