by K. T. Tomb
“Good. I want her to inform Dagan as quickly as possible about the threat to her life here. It’s time that Assyria stopped being an obstacle between us and Phoenicia; I’m tired of their pretending to be a kingdom when all they are is a country of bandits and brigands.”
“He will know before the next moon, husband, so we may as well prepare for war.”
“Excellent!”
Chapter One
UNESCO Headquarters, Place de Fontenoy, Paris, France.
“Director,” Petrovik said, as he stepped into the office.
“Yes, Petrovik,” she replied, without looking up from the computer screen. “What is it?”
“We still haven’t been able to make contact with the dig team in Iraq. They should have returned last week but when they arrived in Baghdad, we lost contact with them completely.”
“I know all about it. What happened to the investigator we sent? Hasn’t he been able to make any progress finding them yet?”
“He hasn’t been able to find so much as a clue of what happened to them, Ilea.”
“That’s absolutely preposterous!” she shouted, standing up from the desk so quickly that her chair flew back into the wall behind her.
She gathered her emotions hastily as she tugged at the ends of her blazer. She turned and looked over the city through the wide expanse of window.
“Should we file a missing persons report? Alert the authorities and enlist the assistance of the Iraqis to locate them?”
“No,” she replied, “We shouldn’t bring any unnecessary attention to this matter until we know more about where we stand and possibly who’s responsible for this. If it is really an abduction then it’s just a matter of time before they contact us to tell us what they want.”
“But in the meantime we can’t just sit here and wait, can we?”
“Absolutely not! We’re talking about nine of our best scientists and researchers here, not to mention their project was sanctioned and funded by UNESCO. We have to keep searching for them.”
“The liaison team lost contact with the other seven last night as well, Director.”
“What? Petrovik, when were you planning on telling me that? Where were they the last time they reported in?”
“At the base camp, Director.”
She ran her fingers through her short, straight bob anxiously and turned back to the desk. Pressing a button on the phone, she initiated a call to her receptionist.
“Call Miss Stone right away!” she ordered the woman on the other end of the line, before pressing the button again to end the call. “Say nothing to the media or the rest of the administration and get the liaison team in here right away.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m bringing the rest of Found History in on this, Petrovik. Chyna’s lead investigator was with the others at the base camp. She was supposed to help them break down the operation and secure the artifacts for a quick evacuation. If they’re off the grid now, Chyna is the only person who will be able to help us.”
***
Chyna’s laughter burst from the slightly ajar door of her office again. Rashid Abdullah, Head Curator of the Hagia Sofia museum had taken to visiting her at the office regularly since they had been open for business. He had become a dear friend to them all after they met while Chyna’s team had been working on the assignment they all now referred to as the case of the Mummy Codex. Rashid had been a key player in the solving of that mystery. As it turned out he was actually the modern day protector of the book that had been hidden from humanity for almost three thousand years by one of Egypt’s most famous and ill-fated princesses, Ankhesenamun-Tasherit-Ma’at. Rashid, they later found out, was a direct descendant of Pharaoh Djoser’s High Priest, Imhotep, and like all his descendants before him he had guarded the Book of Life, with a little help from his friends, of course.
Since they had come to Istanbul, Rashid had been sending a few jobs at the museum their way and that had been particularly helpful to the Found History team. They had met the who’s who of Istanbul society, had the chance to showcase some of their finer talents with the exhibitions and curating they did, and establish themselves as appraisers to the merchants in the region. It had been a beneficial relationship for all involved. Sirita had even hired an assistant investigator and taken on two interns from the local university just to keep up with the work.
“How are our friends in Luxor doing?” Chyna asked Rashid. “I haven’t heard much from Nassir, Mohammed or Jamila recently.”
“They are quite well,” her friend replied confidently as he poured fresh çay into both glasses on the table. “They miss us and insist we visit them for some sport soon.”
“Sport?” Chyna asked, as she lifted the glass carefully and blew on the hot beverage.
“Ah, yes. Mohammed would like to introduce us to the ancient Egyptian sport of falconing. He says the camp is overrun by destructive, but delicious jerboa.”
“Now, that’s different. I may have to take him up on that; I really miss Luxor.”
“Perhaps when Agent Stewart returns to Istanbul, a little holiday will be in order,” he said, winking mischievously at her.
Chyna smiled a telling smile and blushed a little at the comment. She missed Tony too. He was busy closing up the affairs of his assignment to the consular agent in Izmir and wouldn’t be reporting to the Istanbul consulate for another three weeks.
“Perhaps,” Chyna replied, sipping her tea.
“Mohammed and Jamila spend their time watching the Valley of the Kings for grave robbers these days, but they are content; they feel useful and the Watchers are all still comfortably supported by the foundation.”
“It’s good to know that Nassir and his colleagues have such dedicated and skilled protectors.”
“It’s true. Where are Oscar and Lana? I haven’t seen them in weeks.”
“Oscar is in New York. He bought a whole shipment of equipment for the company and he and that genius assistant of his are waist deep in getting them ready for installation. They should be here next week to outfit our office here in Istanbul. As for Lana, she’s in Iraq on contract. An archaeological team there is about to ship out and needed help to document and package the artifacts for transport. I haven’t heard from her in a couple of days but she should be back any minute.”
Sirita walked into the office carrying a beautiful white cattleya plant and placed it on the entryway desk. She could hear Chyna’s bubbly laughter flowing from her office as she spoke to someone animatedly.
“Who’s with Miss Stone?” Sirita asked Mina, the receptionist.
“Mr. Mohammed is visiting from the museum, Miss Patel,” she replied without looking up from the files she was organizing.
“Thank you,” Sirita replied.
She turned from the desk and was just walking towards Chyna’s door when the phone on her desk rang. Sirita stopped dead in her tracks. That phone was the direct office line which they only gave to their highest ranking clientele; and only to be used by them in abject emergencies. She ran to the desk and snatched up the receiver.
“Found History Istanbul, Sirita Patel speaking.”
“Oh, Sirita!” the voice on the other end said. “It’s Ilea Le Gal, UNESCO. Is Chyna there?”
“As a matter of fact she is, Ilea. Let me just connect you to her.”
She put the call on hold and grabbed the UNESCO files from her tray, moving rapidly towards Chyna’s office door.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Abdullah,” She said bowing her head slightly and turned to Chyna. “It looks as if we may have our first adventure.”
“What’s up, Siri?” Chyna asked standing to follow her to the desk.
Rashid put down his tea glass and followed them as well.
“Director Le Gal, from UNESCO Headquarters, is on the line. She wants to speak to you.”
Chyna went around the desk and pressed the hands-free button. The others turned to leave the room.
“Stay,” Chyna s
aid. “Both of you. Rashid, could you get the door?”
He closed it and they both respectfully took seats on the other side of her desk and listened patiently.
“Ilea!” Chyna said, as the call was connected. “How can I help you?”
“Hello, Chyna,” the voice said, “It’s good to hear your voice.”
“Likewise. I have my office manager Sirita and a colleague from Hagia Sofia here with me.”
“Hello, you two.”
They both replied cordially to the greeting.
“So tell me what’s up.”
“We instructed an archaeological team that we fund to clear out of their camp near Hillah three weeks ago. There’s something brewing in Iraq and we don’t want our people caught in the mix.”
“Argo,” Sirita interjected.
“Indeed,” Ilea continued, “Anyway, the American team broke camp, gathered the data and left. They arrived in Baghdad the day after they received their instructions. That was nineteen days ago, Chyna, and we haven’t heard from them since.”
“What about the group that was handling the artifacts, Ilea? Tell me you know where they are and that my girl is safe.”
“We lost contact with them yesterday. I’m sorry, Chyna.”
“Ilea, this is very serious. Have you sent anyone after them? Alerted the authorities?”
“Nothing has gone public yet. We wanted to see if we would hear from the people responsible first.”
“Great, but that was three weeks ago and your delay put the rest of the team in danger; now they’re missing as well.”
“That’s why I’m calling you. We put someone on the ground but he doesn’t seem to be able to come up with anything. We need you and your team to go to Iraq and bring our people home, Chyna.”
“Oscar’s in the States; he can’t get here until tomorrow at the soonest and Tony is in Izmir.”
There was a pregnant pause as Chyna chewed her bottom lip.
“We’ll be in Baghdad by tomorrow night, Ilea,” Chyna finally announced. “Be sure to send everything over immediately. I’m going to need the names of all your people over there, especially the investigator who couldn’t find them; he’s going to have to take point on this.”
“That’s fine, Chyna,” Ilea replied, with a sigh of relief. “Bill us whatever you need to.”
“Of course, I will,” Chyna said, ending the call.
***
“Where are you taking us?” Lana asked calmly, as the two men, one blond and the other dark-haired, escorted them down the hallway of a rundown hotel.
“Shut up, bitch,” the blond one responded.
He spoke with a distinct French accent, confirming to Lana that they hadn’t been taken by Iraqis. She breathed a sigh of relief and decided to obey him. Suddenly the group was stopped outside the double doors of what appeared to be a suite and the dark haired man shouldered his rifle and turned the knobs, throwing both doors wide open. The blond man ushered the eight of them into the room.
It was dusty but well furnished. Clearly, housekeeping hadn’t been inside the suite for many years. Bullet holes dotted the walls here and there and the window they’d obviously penetrated the room from years ago was still broken even though they had been cleverly blacked out using tarpaulin and plywood boards from the outside; the overhead fluorescent lighting flickered as if on cue.
The hotel must have been a remnant from the invasion of Baghdad by coalition troops in 1991. Suddenly, Lana was taken back to that world-famous news broadcast. She had to consciously restrain herself from reciting ‘The skies over Baghdad have been illuminated…’. She smiled at the thought of it. The kidnappers had made their second mistake by bringing them to this location. From the damage to the room, Lana didn’t need to look out the window to know that they were probably near the afflicted Baiyaa neighborhood; it was good to have some bearings even if they were only speculation.
There was no way to know why they had been kidnapped; the group had been taken from their cots in the middle of the night. The little camp outside Hillah had been cleared out by a group of men wearing paramilitary gear; they loaded every crate and box into the back of a truck and put each of them, handcuffed into another. Lana could only think that they must have been after the artifacts that had been unearthed by the dig team.
It was true that when she left Istanbul to go on the assignment she hadn’t been impressed by the dossier; it just wasn’t in her to pass up the chance to see Babylon, even as ruinous as it currently was. It had been declared a World Heritage Site in 2003 and ever since there had been a resurgence of interest in excavating the site. Of course, with the occupation by U.S. and coalition troops after the Persian Gulf War, that was not an easy task. When things improved slightly, UNESCO was sure that they were the first to get in there and for the following ten years, they had successfully bullied any other organization or government from gaining access to the site.
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.
***
Chyna’s head swam as she absorbed the information Ilea had given them over the phone. Lana was missing and no one knew who had taken her and the other scientists or where they were. The only thing they knew to some level of certainty was that they had not left Iraq; at least not by way of the Baghdad airport. It was becoming clear that they’d found something in the ruined city that had provoked somebody, or at least sparked an interest. She wished she had followed up with Lana’s findings and progress there more carefully.
“Siri, could you bring me Lana’s last report from the site, please?”
“Yes, Chyna,” she replied, hurrying away to her desk to retrieve the files.
Rashid stood and was about to excuse himself when Chyna looked up from her desk and gave him a questioning look.
“Have you no ‘Watchers’ in Persia or colleagues who might be able to assist us there?”
“No ‘Watchers’ are stationed that far east but I think the Eastman might have a contact or two there. I could give him a call to find out,” he replied.
“I would really appreciate that,” Chyna said, as Sirita reentered the office.
“Here are the files.”
“Well, Siri, you wanted to be an office manager at Found History, did you think that in your third week on the job you’d get your first opportunity to train as an investigator?”
Sirita’s eyes grew large in her head. She could hardly believe what she was hearing.
“Are you serio
us?” she asked, disbelievingly.
“Of course, I can’t take a bunch of strangers with me and Oscar won’t be here until eight o’ clock tomorrow morning and that’s only if he catches the flight Sandra booked for him. Mina can manage here if Rashid checks in periodically but I can’t go into the field by myself.”
“Fair enough, Chyna. It’s really an exciting proposition.”
Rashid smiled at her and said, “Aren’t you glad you spent those extra hours with me at the firing range? You didn’t know you’d get the chance to see action so soon, did you?”
Sirita laughed and left the office. She returned a few minutes later with a stack of paper from the fax machine.
“Ilea sent the names and other information on the missing teams, both the American scientists and the archaeologists that Lana was with. What do you want me to do with these?”
“Put them here on the desk, Siri, and get a notepad; there’s several things I need you and Mina to handle immediately if we are to be in Baghdad by nightfall tomorrow,” Chyna instructed. She looked up to see her friend standing and placing the tea things neatly on the tea tray. “Are you leaving Rashid?”
“I must get back to the museum, Chyna, but I will call you and let you know what the Eastman said.”
“Thank you.”
Chyna paused for a moment to gather her thoughts while Sirita stood poised in front of her with pen and paper. When she looked up again, there was surety in her eyes and she immediately started reeling off instructions to an instantly intimidated Sirita.
“Okay!” she started. “I need you to book us three seats on a midafternoon flight straight into Baghdad; no connections. I find it’s always too difficult with the extra security checks and we will all be carrying firearms, as well as Oscar will have some of our most sensitive equipment with him. I certainly don’t want a repeat of the ‘Great Istanbul Hacking,” she commented.
They both laughed at Chyna’s quip before she continued.
“Make sure that copies of our licenses for the guns and such are all sent ahead to the airlines and Iraqi customs along with any credentials Ilea sent over from UNESCO. We’re going to need a double executive suite booked at the Palestine International Hotel; you can speak to Ihram Ibrahim, he will know what to do. The next thing is security. Could you get in touch with Thorin and Demetri? If they’re in the region and not on assignment I need them to meet us there. You’ll need to make their flight arrangements if that’s the case.”