by Anna Hackett
“Ah, that was it.” Layne drank more coffee.
Piper touched her arm. “I really am glad you’re okay.”
Layne smiled. “Thanks, Piper.” She glanced out towards the main excavation. It seemed eerily quiet. “Is everyone down in the dig?”
“Weeeellll—”
Layne groaned. “What now?”
“It’s what I was trying to tell you. It’s the curse. Most of the workers have left and returned to Dakhla. They refuse to work if there is a—”
“Curse. Got it.” She absorbed the impact and looked over at the work tent. Right now, she needed to work. “I’m heading back to work on the sarcophagus. You and Dr. Stiller work out the most important work to do next, and set whatever workers we have left doing that. Can you handle things down there?”
“You got it, Doc.”
“Thanks, Piper.” Layne headed across the sand. The sun was already getting hot. Today was going to be a scorcher.
Someone fell into step beside her.
“Morning, Rush,” Declan said. “You look like hell.”
“Gee, thanks. Way to make my morning better.”
“Get any sleep?”
“A few hours, thanks to you.”
“I spoke with the authorities this morning.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Nothing they can do. Suspect it was a thief who killed Karim.”
“At least they aren’t blaming the curse.”
“Yeah. Sorry to hear about your workers.”
She set her shoulders back. “We’ll find more. For now, I have work to do. I need that set-animal amulet. I want to see if it fits—”
When he pulled it out of his pocket, she smiled at him.
“Figured you’d be keen to test your theory,” he said. “I also had Hale put the scroll in the work tent.”
He followed her into the tent, and the moment she laid eyes on the scroll, she forgot about her crappy morning.
She put the amulet down and snapped on gloves. She gently rolled out the scroll and then picked up the set-animal. Holding it over the scroll, she hesitated, her gaze meeting Declan’s.
He nodded.
She set it down and it clicked into place.
“It fits!” She grinned, then leaned over the scroll, murmuring to herself. “Declan, the glyphs on the set-animal tie in with the ones on the scroll. It makes sense now!”
“The missing piece of the puzzle,” he said.
She pulled her notepad open, grabbed her pen, and sat on her stool. She set to work and Declan leaned over her shoulder, watching.
It scattered her thoughts a little. She could feel the heat coming off him. He was just too masculine.
She took a breath and started decoding the ancient symbols.
One stumped her. Dammit. She scribbled some ideas, scratched them out.
“It’s the symbol for west,” Declan said. “It’s a very old variant, but I’m pretty sure it’s west.”
She stilled, and slowly wrote west in her notes. “In the desert to the west. That works.”
“And this other one you’re having trouble with. I think it means small or tiny.”
“God, you’re right.” She scribbled furiously, then she tilted her head back and looked at his rugged face. “We’re not a bad team.”
She watched his face shutter and it made her chest tighten.
“So, what’s the final translation?” he asked.
Right. Translation. She cleared her throat. “To find your way to the desert in the west, to the House of Seth’s beloved.”
Declan frowned. “Got any more?”
“Yes. It joins up with what I translated yesterday.” She ran her finger along the text. “True believer, do not be taken in by the lies of the falcon. Use the scroll, hidden with Itennu, loyal servant of the true god of gold. Solve the riddles of the true god, to find your way to the desert in the west, to the House of Seth’s beloved, then the place of the small birds, where he is king.” She took a breath. “To the oasis of Zerzura.” Her hands trembled. “It’s a map to Zerzura.”
“This is what Anders is after,” Declan said grimly.
“It can’t be real, Declan. This must be a spiritual journey. Like the path to the afterlife, the dead have to pass through various gates and solve riddles. The desert in the west symbolizes the afterlife, where the dying sun sets each day.”
“This sounds pretty real to me, Rush.”
God, she hoped not. But at the same time… “Keep your voice down. We can’t have anyone overhearing, regardless.” If word got out, they’d be inundated with treasure hunters, looters, thieves, adventurers, rival archeologists. She pressed a palm to her forehead. “Zerzura is a legend. Lost cities can’t stay lost in this day and age of satellite images.”
“It doesn’t matter. Anders thinks that map is real.”
And he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for it. “What should we do?”
“We need to get the scroll out of here and you need to close down the dig.”
“What?” She shot to her feet. “I can’t shut the dig—”
“Layne, you don’t have enough workers anyway,” he said quietly. “Which I’m guessing Anders has something to do with.”
“What?”
“I’m guessing he poisoned the food, with Karim’s help.”
She rubbed her head. “Dammit.” She’d wanted this dig to be a huge success. Now it was just a disaster, and a man was dead.
She couldn’t risk any more lives.
With a heavy heart, she nodded. “Fine. I’ll let everyone finish out the day, then I’ll close the dig. But only temporarily. Until you find Anders.”
“Tomorrow, we’ll head to Luxor and take the jet back to Cairo.” Declan grabbed her shoulder, and gave it a light squeeze. “It’s only temporary.”
So why did she still feel like a failure?
***
Layne stared at her dig team.
It was a pitifully small group.
They only had a few workers left, and they’d barely gotten much done today. Everyone was dragging, after having spent the day doing twice as many jobs just to get anything accomplished.
She scraped a hand through her hair. Behind the group, Declan and his team stood, quiet and still.
“Okay, Aaron, send the local workers back to the oasis. They have a week off.”
The archeologist spluttered. “What? You’re going to send the only people we have—?”
“We don’t have enough workers, I know it and you know it.” She put her hands on her hips. “I want you to head into the oasis and recruit more workers.” She did some quick math in her head. “Up the hourly rate.”
He frowned. “That’ll cut into the dig budget—”
“I am in charge of the budget. You let me worry about that.” Without workers, there’d be no dig to spend the money on.
Aaron scowled. “We hired all the best workers from Dakhla. There won’t be more.”
“Fine. Take a jeep and go to Luxor.”
He gave her a stiff nod.
Layne eyed Piper and the others. “You guys have seven days off. Head into Dakhla, or Luxor, or Cairo if you prefer. Relax. Refresh.”
The grad students all grinned and fist-bumped. Piper gave a slow nod.
By the time the sun was setting, the dig was a ghost town. Layne finished making herself a sandwich and headed over to the fire.
Declan sat in the sand, Logan and Hale with him.
She sat. “Where’s Morgan?”
“She’s on watch with the guards,” Declan answered.
Layne had no trouble imagining the woman prowling around in the darkness. As Layne ate, the men talked, ribbing each other, telling jokes. She enjoyed the banter. She’d never had siblings, and in the foster home where she’d stayed, no one teased or joked good-naturedly. Besides, she’d been focused on studying and getting good grades. She’d wanted to make a good life for herself and make her parents proud.
Staring out at the silent dig, she wondered i
f they’d be proud of this screw up.
She stood. “I’ll be in the work tent for a bit before I head to bed.” She murmured her goodnights and trudged across the sand.
She lost herself in the scroll again. It helped dull the pain of knowing her dig was at best delayed and at worst falling apart. She double-checked her translation, making meticulous notes.
“I’m sorry.”
She jerked. “Goddammit, Declan, make some damn noise.”
He grunted and leaned on the table beside her. All masculine heat, radiating that intensity that seemed to reach inside her and make her tingle.
“What are you sorry about?” she grumped. “Scaring the hell out of me?”
“No. That the dig isn’t working out the way you wanted.”
“Not your fault.” She set her pen down. “You’ve actually been the most helpful person here.” And wasn’t that just strange.
He gave her a small smile. “My mother likes to tell me that out of the darkest moments, the best answers often emerge.”
“That’s kind of deep for a treasure hunter.” She wondered when Declan would have needed his mother to tell him that.
“She likes to get spiritual on me sometimes.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Not really. The darkest moments just seem dark and shitty and drag on far longer than you want them to.”
Her heart clenched. “Declan…what happened? With Anders?”
He was quiet for so long, she thought he was going to ignore her.
“My SEAL team was on a joint mission with his team in the Middle East. I discovered Anders was keeping a little dungeon. He was holding locals there. Torturing them.”
Her stomach turned over. “How could anyone do that?”
“He’s a psychopath, Layne. He likes to kill, and he feels no remorse. He had men, women, children…” Declan shook his head.
“You stopped him? You saved those people?”
When she watched Declan’s jaw go tight, she knew that wasn’t what had happened.
“I was ordered to leave them there to suffer, until we had enough evidence against Anders.”
A tense silence fell.
Layne shook her head. “You aren’t built like that.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I disobeyed orders. Took my team in.”
“You saved them.”
“No. Most of them were already dead. I think Anders knew I was on to him.”
Her chest tightened. And it still haunted Declan to this day. “You did the right thing.”
“Anders got off. Not enough evidence. Because I disobeyed orders, the bastard avoided jail.” Declan shook his head. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get into all this. Look, Rush, I know things aren’t working out how you wanted, but I know you can pull through this. Hell, your dedication and enthusiasm alone—I’ve never seen someone so packed with those two qualities.”
Warmth spread through her chest. “Thank you.”
“So, what’s left with the scroll?”
“Nothing. I’ve translated it all.” She tore out the sheet with her notes. “It’s all right here.” She tucked it into her pocket. “For anyone crazy enough to follow it out to the middle of nowhere, in one of the most unforgiving deserts in the world.”
“You should get some sleep. We’ll make an early start in the morning to Luxor. I’ll put the scroll back in the safe.”
She nodded. “Good night, Declan.”
“Night, Rush.”
When Layne got to her tent, she realized just how tired she was. She managed to get her boots off and then fell, fully clothed into her sleeping bag.
Sleep took her and the dreams took over. A jumble of crazy images she couldn’t pull apart.
When someone slammed a hand over her mouth, she thought it was part of the dream.
But then she came awake with a jerk, her scream muffled against a large hand. She was jerked backward against a hard, male body.
Panic fired, her pulse spiking. She wasn’t letting whoever this was kill her or get their hands on the scroll.
Layne started struggling and slammed her head back, the back of her head colliding with her attacker’s face.
Chapter Nine
Dec muttered a curse. “Shit, Rush, it’s me.” He kept his voice a whisper. “Now be quiet.”
The struggling woman in his arms stilled. When he judged she was calm enough, he uncovered her mouth.
Her head whipped around. “Dammit, Declan.” She was pissed, but keeping her voice down. “What the hell are you doing?”
“There’s a team infiltrating the camp right now. We spotted them coming.”
She gasped. “Anders.”
“Yeah, and I’m guessing he’s got some not very friendly people with him. We’re outnumbered.”
Dismay covered her face. “They’re coming for the sarcophagus and the scroll.”
“Yeah.”
She swore under her breath. “We need to get to the safe and get the scroll and the set-animal amulet. And Aaron’s still here. He didn’t leave for Luxor—”
Gunshots echoed in the night.
Declan cursed. “No time. We have to go. Now!” He pulled her toward the entrance. “Boots. And grab your emergency pack.”
Even though he could sense her fear, she followed his orders. She got her boots on and slipped her pack onto her back.
Dec already had his, and he pulled out his SIG Sauer.
Layne eyed the handgun. She took a deep breath and followed him out.
Outside, he saw flashlights arcing through the dig. Two vehicles stood, lights on, illuminating the main excavation site. He saw shadows moving at the storage tents.
He grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the action and into the shadows. There was a brisk wind blowing.
Dec touched his ear. “Everyone okay?”
His team checked in.
“All clear,” Morgan said.
“Idiot stepped on Hale,” Logan said. “But we’re fine.”
“Okay. Where are you?”
“Eastern side. Five hundred meters out of camp and watching the show.”
Shit. He and Rush were on the other side of the camp.
“Roger that. Anyone see Stiller? He was in his tent.”
“That’s a negative,” Logan said.
Not good. “Okay. Get to safety. The doc and I are on the western side. Let’s lay low, and then rendezvous at the prearranged emergency point.”
The wind blew harder, spitting sand in their faces. At least it would muffle noise, and hopefully help conceal their footprints.
“We need to get out of camp and meet up with my team.”
Rush nodded. “I hate leaving these bastards with free range of my dig—”
“Yeah, sorry I misplaced my army, otherwise I’d take them down.”
A hint of white teeth in the dark. “And there go all those superhero delusions I had about you.”
“Come on, Rush. Even while I’m rescuing you you’re busting my balls.” He tugged her down a dune and deeper into the desert.
They hadn’t gone far when he heard voices raised in excitement. Dec turned. The headlights of one car perfectly illuminated Aaron Stiller’s skinny form. He was pushed hard by the thug holding his arm and the archeologist fell to his knees.
“No,” Layne said, pressing a hand to her mouth.
Then a tall, broad figure appeared.
Everything in Dec’s body went still. Ian Anders.
He had a clean-cut face for such an evil person. He was wearing all black and staring at Stiller with calculation. Then he held out his hands.
Dec heard Layne gasp. Anders was holding the scroll and the set-animal amulet.
“Can Stiller translate the scroll?” Dec asked.
She nodded. “Without a doubt.”
“Shit.” There was nothing they could do. Dec chewed it over and realized he needed help. He pulled out his satellite phone and thumbed in Darcy’s number.
His sist
er, reliable as always, answered on the first ring. “Declan?”
“Darcy, I don’t have long. Anders has raided the camp. He has the scroll and one of the archeologists. Rush says the guy can decode the scroll.”
“The map to Zerzura,” his sister said grimly.
“Yes. I need you to call in Callum. Tell him to come in with help.”
“I’m on it. What else—”
The scream of static filled his ear and his phone went dead. With a curse, he turned it off. Next, he touched his earpiece. “Logan? You there?’
Nothing.
He yanked his earpiece from his ear. “Dammit to hell.”
“What?”
In the starlight, he could make out Layne’s pale face. “They’re jamming our comms.”
There were more loud voices from the direction of the camp. Dec glanced over his shoulder…and saw flashlights heading in their direction.
“Dammit. Run, Rush.”
They sprinted through the sand. Layne tripped, but Dec grabbed her arm. She righted herself and kept running.
The wind grew stronger and Dec felt the whip of sand against his skin. He scanned ahead. The vague outlines of the dunes were all he could see. There were no good hiding places.
Suddenly, a large shape loomed over them. Dec’s pulse spiked and he brought his gun up.
“Dec.”
Dec lowered his weapon. “Shit, Logan. I almost blew your head off.”
Logan snorted. “Come on.”
Dec grabbed Layne’s arm and soon they reached the bottom of the dune. “Logan, plan?”
“Bury ourselves in the sand.”
“Hey, boss man.”
Dec heard Morgan’s voice but didn’t see her.
“Down here.”
Dec just made out the two bulges in the sand that he guessed were Morgan and Hale. He nodded. “Let’s do it. Rush, lie down.”
She did, pressing her belly to the sand. Dec quickly covered her with sand.
“Stay still and quiet.”
She nodded but he knew she had to be scared. He touched her head, then quickly set to work burying himself right beside her.
The voices got louder.
Under the thin layer of sand, Dec stayed very still. He’d had practice at sitting quietly, waiting, on missions. Patience was a hell of a valuable skill, along with calm under fire.
Someone was shouting in Arabic.