“You have to go in tonight.”
“Why?”
“By tomorrow there will be too many guards.”
“How many are there now?”
He took a chance, one he had a feeling he might regret later. “Just those that were already there. Amateurs. You’ll have no problem handling them. She says the item will be where she previously indicated.”
“She?”
“Yes.”
“Your contact is a woman?”
His chest tightened with the disgust on the other end of the line. “Yes. Is that a problem?”
“You expect us to trust a woman?”
Damos closed his eyes, shaking his head, repulsed by the tone. “This isn’t the Islamic State. Here we trust our women.”
The rage in response had him nearly evacuating his bowels. “I should slit your throat for your blasphemy!”
His chin trembled as sweat trickled down his back, wondering what had possessed him to be so stupid. “I apologize. I meant no disrespect. What I meant is that here we trust our women, right or wrong, and I trust that she is telling me the truth. You have to go in tonight, or you’ll never get in.”
There was a pause, the only sounds the bursts of static from heavy breathing near the mouthpiece. “Very well. But if she’s lying, you’re the one who will pay the price.”
The call ended and Damos collapsed in his chair, almost blacking out from the panic attack now threatening to overwhelm him. He had dealt with criminals most of his life, and few scared him. But these weren’t criminals. These were fanatics, out to make a profit to fund their insane dream of a worldwide caliphate.
And they wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, should things go wrong.
God, please let nothing go wrong.
25 |
Phaleron Delta Necropolis
Athens, Greece
Acton smiled broadly as their head of security, Cameron Leather, entered the dig site, accompanied by his Greek counterpart. Laura rushed up to him, arms extended, giving him a quick double-cheek kiss, the poor man appearing as uncomfortable as their friend Hugh Reading did every time someone tried the move on him.
Though he never minded it with Laura.
You never mind getting hugged and kissed by your daughter.
And he was certain that was how their friend thought of Laura after all these years, though if you ever suggested he was old enough to be her father, he’d give you a withering stink-eye until you recanted.
“Is your friend settled in at the hotel?”
Korba grunted. “I’ll say, I think they broke the bed already.”
Without looking, Leather’s hand snapped out, stopping a hair’s breadth from the Greek’s happy place.
“I’ll go check on my men.” Korba retreated quickly, and Leather returned his attention to Laura and the others, all stifling grins.
“Yes, she is. Thank you so much for allowing me to bring her.”
Acton stepped forward, trying his best to ignore the awkward smile on the man’s face.
He’s got it bad.
“You should bring her by for a tour, if that’s okay with you, Professor.”
Antoniou nodded vigorously. “Of course! Of course! Bring her! We would be happy to give her the VIP treatment.”
Leather smiled. “That would be wonderful. I know she’d be chuffed to see something like this. In fact, she had already jokingly asked me to find out if it were okay.”
Laura patted his arm. “Of course it is. Any friend of yours is a friend of ours.”
Leather turned all business. “Darius tells me that his men should be set up before midnight, so within the next couple of hours. Once the equipment comes online, we should have complete perimeter security. With the handheld scanners and pat downs, we should put an end to your little problem here.”
Antoniou sighed. “I hope so. It’s so distressing!” He gestured toward the table holding the urn with Cylon’s warning etched on it. “I’m just thankful that this wasn’t stolen.”
Leather’s eyes narrowed and he strode over to the table, making a quick circuit of the area. “It’s valuable?”
The doubt in his voice had Acton chuckling. “After all these years of working with us, don’t you know by now that it isn’t just precious metals and gems that have value?”
Leather shrugged. “Looks like something my grandmother might have in her sitting room.”
Tommy snorted. “I think I saw one just like it at Pier 1.”
Mai blushed, giving Tommy an elbow to the ribs, silencing him. “How long have you been waiting to say that?”
“Two hours,” replied a wincing Tommy.
Acton gave him a covert thumbs up, mouthing, “Good one!” before giving Leather a quick explanation. “Have you heard of Cylon?”
Leather nodded. “Yeah, isn’t that the homeworld of a race of cybernetic organisms that rebelled against the human race?”
Tommy snickered.
“Yes it is, and do you know where they got their name?”
Leather paused. “Umm, I had always assumed it was short for cybernetic something.”
“And you’d be wrong. Actually, if you watch the original Battlestar Galactica, you’ll notice that it was heavily influenced by Ancient Greece. Apollo, Athena, Greek-styled helmets for the Viper pilots, and an enemy called Cylons. Most people don’t realize that Cylon was a real person from the seventh century BC Athens. He tried to stage a coup, and failed.” Acton motioned at the scores of skeletons nearby. And we believe these are his followers, and this”—he pointed at the skeleton he was now convinced was the man himself—“is Cylon, their leader.”
Leather whistled, his head slowly bobbing. “So, I assume that makes this find of significant importance?”
“It confirms one of the first recorded events in Ancient Greek history.” Acton gestured toward the urn. “And this, is the proof. This urn appears to have been inscribed by Cylon himself, and we believe was placed in here by him after his followers were entombed here, some still alive. And we believe he then died here, in battle, before he could escape.”
Leather shook his head. “I’d hate to disagree with you, but if you’ll forgive an amateur’s perspective, I’d like to offer a theory of my own.”
Acton, slightly surprised, smiled. “Please do.”
“I won’t dispute anything you said except your last statement.” He stepped over to the skeleton that they believed was Cylon, and knelt, as if in reverence. “If I had led these people to their deaths, and had heard that some had been left alive in here to die, I would have done anything I could to get to them. And if saving them wasn’t an option, I would have ended their suffering, then stood my ground, fighting any and all who would dishonor their memory, until I was finally struck down.” He reached out and touched Cylon’s hand, his voice barely a whisper. “Only then could I live with the shame of what I had done.”
Acton’s chest tightened at the emotion in Leather’s voice, and it made him wonder if something had happened in the man’s past of which they weren’t aware. Laura stepped over to him, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “A beautiful sentiment.” Leather rose, and she gave him a quick hug before turning to the others. “I think we have a new theory to add to the mix. Did Cylon fail in an escape attempt, or did he stand his ground and fight to the death, dying willingly?” She flashed a smile at Leather. “I’m inclined to believe the latter.”
Acton nodded, scratching his chin. “Sometimes you need a soldier’s perspective to understand the motivations of another soldier.” He grunted. “I like it. Too bad we couldn’t go back in time and be a fly on the wall here.”
Tommy raised a finger. “Well, speaking of time travel—”
Acton held up a hand, cutting him off as he spun toward the ramp. “Did you hear that?”
More popping sounds, then a scream. A burst of static erupted from Leather’s comm gear.
“We’re under attack!”
Acton spun toward Tommy and
Mai, pointing toward a large tarp covering a yet to be excavated area. “Get under there and stay quiet until we come for you.”
Tommy stood frozen for a moment, then grabbed Mai, pulling the terrified woman toward the feeble cover as Acton followed Leather and the others toward the entrance, the gunfire growing more intense. Laura disappeared over the top then screamed, a body rolling down the temporary ramp.
Acton sprinted toward it, the uniform identifying the victim as one of Korba’s men. He paused to check him. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Took them in the vest.” He thrust a weapon into Acton’s hands. “Go!”
Acton didn’t need to be told twice. He rushed up the ramp, readying the weapon, and spotted Laura lying nearby, behind one of Korba’s SUVs. His heart almost stopped and he was about to cry out when he spotted muzzle fire erupting from under the vehicle, coming from a weapon under her control.
She was okay.
He pressed up against the wall near the top of the ramp, surveying the scene. Several of Korba’s men were down, and the remainder of the gunfire was being directed toward the main gate, at least a dozen muzzles flashing at them, revealing their superior numbers.
And their positions.
He checked on the others, deciding they were all behind solid cover, then slinked along the side of the embankment that housed the dig site, and away from the gunfight. Out of sight, he sprinted along the side then around the back, finally climbing to the top of one of the berms and taking up a position that gave him a clear view of the front gate. He lay prone, crawling into his final position, then made sure his weapon was on single shot.
He had no extra magazines.
He took aim and fired, the man dropping. He fired again, this time missing, his chest heaving too hard to aim properly. He steadied himself then fired once more, and another dropped from a hit to the leg.
And finally they took notice of the new angle of attack.
Several turned to fire, and he switched to full-auto, emptying the rest of the mag into the cluster of attackers in short, controlled bursts, then rolled away, the safety of the berm protecting him from the returned fire. Safe, he rushed back the way he had come, kicking himself for not taking more than the weapon when it had been offered him.
As he rounded the final corner, about to enter the parking area, engines roared and the gunfire dwindled then stopped.
“All clear!” shouted Leather, and Acton breathed a sigh of relief before raising his hands.
“Friendly on your six!” he shouted, emerging tentatively from around the corner, his gun over his head. Weapons spun toward him then quickly lowered, and he picked up his pace when he was certain he wouldn’t be blown away. “Is everyone okay?”
Laura stood, dusting herself off. “I’m fine. Basil? Juno?”
Antoniou emerged from behind a stack of boxes, clearly shaken. “I-I’m okay. Juno? Where are you?”
Juno emerged from behind a row of vehicles, her cheek scratched and knee bleeding. “I-I’m fine. Just a little banged up.”
Antoniou rushed over to her, as did Laura, while Acton joined Leather and Korba, tending to the downed members of the Greek team.
“Are they okay?”
Korba shook his head, making the sign of the cross as he held a hand to the chest of one of his men. Leather replied for him. “He didn’t make it. Took one to the neck.”
Acton dropped to a knee, closing his eyes as the moans of pain surrounding him threatened to overwhelm him. Then his eyes shot wide. “Mai!” He leaped to his feet and sprinted toward the site entrance. He rushed down the ramp and toward the tarp. “Are you guys okay?”
The tarp moved then two heads appeared. “Yup,” replied Tommy. “Is everyone okay?”
Acton shook his head. “At least one of the guards is dead, and several are wounded pretty bad. But you two are okay, right?”
They both nodded, tears streaming down Mai’s face. “Professor Palmer?”
Acton gave her a hard hug eagerly returned. “She’s okay. You know her. I think she singlehandedly fought them off.”
Mai giggled, still holding on, and he felt no compulsion to release his own grip. He reached out and squeezed Tommy’s shoulders. “Thanks for watching out for her.”
He shrugged. “It’s kinda my job now, isn’t it?”
Mai reached out and pulled him into the hug, and the three of them stood there for a moment, saying nothing, when Acton’s eyes shot wide and his jaw dropped at the sight before him.
“Oh my God! It’s gone!” He let go of his young charges and rushed toward the table that had held the urn inscribed by Cylon, then examined the ground for broken shards, finding none. He spun toward Tommy and Mai. “Did you see who took it?”
They both shook their heads, Tommy replying. “Sorry, sir, but we didn’t see anything. Our heads were covered.”
“Did you hear anything?”
Again, they both shook their heads. “Only gunfire. I was just trying to stay quiet and not piss myself.”
Acton again surveyed the area for any evidence of the precious relic, then sprinted up the ramp and into the parking lot where the others were. He jogged over to where Laura was, Antoniou and Juno with her, watching as police and paramedics arrived.
“It’s gone.”
They all turned toward him. “What’s gone?” asked Laura, then she gasped. “You don’t mean…”
He nodded. “The urn is gone.”
Antoniou’s eyes widened and he wobbled. Acton reached out and grabbed him by the arms to steady him. “It-it can’t be. We stopped them. We stopped them at the gate.”
Acton shook his head. “I checked the area. It didn’t fall off and break. Someone physically took it.” He threw a hand toward the scene before them. “All this must have been a diversion. While we were watching the gate, someone else must have come into the dig site and taken it.” He sighed, his eyes closing as he pictured the dead and wounded. “All of this for nothing.”
Leather walked over, his face grim, his hands and clothes covered in blood, an active participant in the first aid being provided. “You’re all fine?”
Laura nodded. “And Darius’ men?”
“One dead, four wounded. They’ll live, but they’re out of the game. We’ll be short staffed until replacements arrive tomorrow.”
Acton frowned. “It doesn’t much matter now.”
Leather’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“The urn was stolen during the attack.”
Leather stepped to the edge of the dig site, peering into the excavated area. Tommy waved. “Did they see anything?”
“No, I had them hide under a tarp. They didn’t hear anything either.”
Leather cursed, turning to look at the carnage now tended to by the emergency personnel. “It was all a trick.” He kicked at the stone covered parking lot, sending a small rock skittering across the ground toward one of the parked cars. “Clever, though costly.”
Acton stared at the gate. “How many of theirs did we get?”
“Six.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Six? Maybe one of them knows where it was taken.”
Leather shook his head. “They’re all dead.”
Acton’s eyes narrowed. “But I know I shot one in the leg. I guess they took him with them when they left.”
Leather shook his head. “No, they killed their wounded.”
Bile filled Acton’s mouth. “Unbelievable. Who are these people?”
“I took photos of all their faces before the police arrived. I’ve sent them to your phone. I suggest forwarding them to Agent Reading, just in case the authorities here aren’t so forthcoming.”
Acton agreed. “Good idea.”
Leather handed him a phone. “And I found this on one of the bodies.” He nodded toward Tommy, now approaching with Mai. “I suggest you give it to the whiz kid and see what he finds.”
“Give me what?” asked Tommy.
Acton handed him the phone. “We
might have been talking about another whiz kid.”
Tommy grinned. “How many do you actually know?” He stared toward the main gate. “Is this one of theirs?”
“Yes. Tuck it away somewhere, then when we get back to the hotel, work your magic.”
Tommy stuffed it into an inner pocket of his jacket. “Consider it done.”
Antoniou stared at the pocket. “Do-do you think you can find something that can help us? We have to recover the urn, we have to find out who is behind this.” He threw up his hands, color returning to his cheeks. “This is a disaster! The history that has been lost!” He reached out for Juno, tears staining her cheeks. “They’ll shut us down for sure!”
Acton stepped closer to his friend. “It wasn’t your fault.”
A burst of air erupted from Antoniou’s mouth. “That may be true, but in today’s Greece, someone always has to be blamed, so long as the government isn’t. If we had proper funding, we’d have had proper security in place, and the petty thefts would never have happened, and whoever is behind this wouldn’t have been so emboldened to steal the prize.”
Leather cleared his throat. “Are we sure it’s the same people?”
Laura’s eyes narrowed. “Who else could it be?”
“Well, before, you said it was always just little things, with no one getting hurt. No violence whatsoever, right?”
Antoniou nodded. “That’s correct. Always something that could be tucked away easily somewhere. And no one ever got hurt.”
“Right. Now we have this direct assault, in numbers, heavily armed. That doesn’t match the previous thefts at all. And frankly, I don’t understand the value of these things very well, but I can’t see what had been stolen being profitable enough to warrant a team that expensive.”
Acton grunted. “You’re absolutely right, up until a few days ago, when they discovered that urn. On the black market, it could be worth quite a lot.”
Antoniou agreed. “I’d estimate millions to the right person.”
Tommy’s eyes bulged. “Millions? That old pot we were looking at?”
Antoniou turned toward him. “Yes. Remember, it’s not what it’s made of that gives it its value. It’s the history. A well-preserved ancient urn isn’t necessarily worth that much, but one with an inscription from Cylon himself, with contents that are a mystery?” He threw his hands up. “Who knows what it could be worth to the right person?”
The Cylon Curse Page 8