by Tony Lavely
“Cool. Why, did he say?”
“Not in so many words, but I think he wants to know when whoever we send will arrive.”
“That seems a funny reason to fly all the way from… Karachi, right?” She rose and waved him along to the lanai. “A long trip for little gain, since he’s already committed the funds.”
“Yes, it is.” They seated themselves looking out over the blue water to the south of Home Cay. “Should I ask him directly?”
“Naw. Let him tell us in his own good time. If he hasn’t by the time we’re done, then we’ll ask.” She slid her phone from her pocket and tapped its face. “I have to go to Miami day after tomorrow. You remember, my doctor’s appointment? Dan’s set…” He laughed at her pouty face. “… to chaperone me. Other than that, I don’t have anything we can’t work around. Can we get Leonid and Fedor back, like early next week so they can meet him, too?”
“I’ll arrange their return. This morning while we were sleeping, they got the formal word that the contract will be allowed to lapse. But it’ll be a week or so to get clear and ship everything we’re not going to leave.”
“Damn. Who else will be available, then?”
“I’ll check with Leonid who of his team will return with them. I’d guess four or five will want to see what we have available; the others will fade off to another group. But that’s just my guess.”
Beckie went through the rest of the ten o’clock meeting with Willie; the updates were all routine. As Willie left, she pulled out her phone and rang Beth.
“You got a couple of minutes?”
“Pieter’s just been giving me a refresher on the proper care and feeding of hand- and long guns. Now, gonna to put some of that to use, depleting the ammo stores. With the ear muffs we won’t be able to talk. Should be done in a couple hours.”
“I’ll join you; wanna fire my P238 anyway.”
In a half-hour, they were in the underground range on Port Cay, shredding targets. Beckie disliked target practice; it had no motivating power for her, but then she recalled Elena’s “We try not to kill sparring partners,” and the lesson that had taught her. She broke open another box of ammunition and reloaded her four magazines. Before she’d finished the last one, Beth grabbed her arm and pointed to the doorway where Pieter stood, smiling.
She doffed the ear protectors and Beth said, “Time for a little fun. Pieter told me you’ve been through the M1911 course.”
“Yeah, Last year or maybe year before that. My opinion? Great pistol, but at two and a half pounds, too big for me to strap on. I’d be pulling to the right!”
“I thought I’d give it a try, since he loves them and recommends them to everyone comes through his shop.”
Beckie caught the woman by the waist and guided her to the team’s smiling armourer. “Make sure he goes over the problems. Since it’s so easy to field strip, people tend to think it’s perfect. Right, Pieter?”
“Right, Mrs. Jamse. Glad you remember that. Here, Ms Stadd, try this for feel.” He handed her an example of the Colt’s Manufacturing Company Pistol, Caliber .45, Automatic, M1911A1. “Your Glock 17 is good, but the .45 ACP cartridge in the M1911 is an advance on the 9mm.”
“I know where this is going, Beth, and I don’t mind a refresher. Maurice can hold lunch til about three, since Pieter’s gonna take every minute of that!”
Pieter ushered them into his workshop without disputing Beckie’s prediction. When he allowed them to leave—at three-fifteen—he had not only demonstrated the weapon on the range, but Beth watched in awe as he detail stripped the gun with no tools. “A useful characteristic,” he said, “especially in combat situations.” He’d followed by describing the problems the naysayers had with it, including the jams which needed a gunsmith like him to repair. Before they left, Pieter demonstrated the few options available to a shooter when a problem did occur.
On the way back to Home Cay and lunch, Beckie brought herself up to date on the training Lisa had done, and Beth’s plans not only for her, but the other team members, too. She smiled to herself. Leave the good people alone to do their job, Beck!
Leonid and Fedor arrived on February first, a Thursday, the day before Brody was due. Beckie asked Jannike Meyer to take their papers as usual and send them along as soon as Patrice landed.
She knew little about the two beyond that they were Russian and the few tidbits Willie had shared when they discussed them the week before.
The two men had met ten or so years ago while both were in the Russian special forces Alpha Group. Willie was certain that they’d kept their relationship undercover while part of Spetsnaz, and as far as Beckie recalled, they hadn’t been all that open about it since joining the team.
Janni’s call to warn of their arrival found Beckie on the lanai; after a ten minute wait during which she advised Boynton they were close by, she went to the front door to welcome them.
Leonid was the taller one, Willie had said, though he wasn’t tall. But, she thought as they approached from the dock, Fedor isn’t really short, either. Both are close to a foot taller than me! Neither was dark, but Fedor was darker than Leonid. Both men had close-cut brown hair; they’d donned camo and tee shirts for the flight.
Fedor said something Beckie couldn’t hear, and Leonid laughed and clapped the other man on the shoulder. “I’m sure she won’t…” Leonid looked up to see Beckie waiting and mumbled the end of his statement.
The two men hurried, and Beckie opened the door, greeting them with her firmest handshake. On the lanai, she waved them to pick whichever seats they wished and called to Boynton who appeared with his ever-present coffee service. This time, however, there were three carafes.
“For you, Rebecca.” He poured a cup. “Gentlemen, please tell me if this is not to your liking,” he said as he filled two smaller cups from a second carafe.
“I find it suits very well,” Leonid said once he’d sipped. “Thank you for remembering our… plebeian tastes; this is excellent.”
Boynton beamed as he took his own seat. “Willie is about to arrive, if you wait another minute.”
“Ah. That explains the extra cup,” Beckie said with a smile. “So. Leonid Danilin; Fedor Starinov… I apologize, I don’t know the proper honorific.”
“No matter,” Leonid said with a faint smile. “Even now, neither do we. Names will be fine.”
Beckie tipped her head, hoping her confusion didn’t show. “Well, okay. In any event, it is a pleasure to meet you in person, finally. I hope your trip wasn’t too boring.”
“Trips to the Nest are never boring,” Leonid said. He paused a moment, then continued, “Though we spoke via computer in September, in person I convey again my condolences. I believe Fedor wishes to, as well.”
“I do, Mrs. Jamse. I can hardly imagine your feelings. We both miss Ian, in our own ways.”
“Thank you,” she said, dipping her eyes for a moment.
“Please, call me Lyeka. And he…” tipping his head toward his partner, “… is Fedor,” who nodded, a smile curving his lips.
As Beckie acknowledged him, Willie came through the slider and greeted them.
“I think,” Beckie said, “that we’ll spend a few more minutes, then let you go relax. And study.” She tapped the thin envelope Willie’d carried back from Paris. “We’ve signed up to guard an archeological dig in Baluchistan, southern Pakistan. Everything we know about the job is here.” She slid the envelope across the table where Leonid could reach it. “We hope to know more tomorrow; one of the principals arrives shortly after noon. I invite you to the meeting at two PM; bring all the questions you can think of.”
Leonid nodded as he slipped the papers out and began to peruse them. His face made interesting changes as he did so. She counted surprised, disgruntled, amused and something else she couldn’t identify. He handed each sheet to Fedor once he’d finished it. When he arrived at the maps, the last pieces of paper, he and Fedor scrutinized them together.
“Interestin
g, Mrs. Jamse.”
“Beckie, please.”
“Of course. This site seems to be… distant?” He glanced at Fedor, who nodded, and Leonid continued, “Distant from locations where other excavations have been done. And the antiquities departments in Islamabad have been protective of their heritage.” He waved one of the sheets. “I see that the proper people have been paid off… but those people can also forget their recent… windfalls, I think you say.”
Beckie gave him a big smile, which she then turned on Willie and Boynton. “I love it when we pick the right guys.” She turned back to the Russians. “They wouldn’t say what they’re looking for. Do you have an idea?”
“Not with any certainty. But the area near Mohenjo-Daro is being slowly investigated as the home of the Indus Valley civilization, sometimes called the Harappan civilization after the modern name of the first city to be found and excavated. That was about… well, almost a hundred years ago, now. Finding it, I mean; the civilization is Bronze Age.”
“What… How?” Beckie flushed as she realized how incoherent she sounded. “I mean—”
“How do a couple of Russian mercs know anything about the Bronze Age, and excavation work in Pakistan?” Leonid laughed. “I believe that Ian knew of our hobby, but perhaps not. Or he failed to share with you.”
“Wouldn’t be the first thing,” Beckie mumbled.
“I see. Well, Fedor’s maternal side has roots in India, and as a result, he determined to see what he could about her possible ancestors. Of which the Indus Valley civilization may be one.” He glanced at the map again. “What are the odds, Fedor, that they’re looking for something related to the IVC?”
Fedor picked up the map to study it. “Honestly, I am not convinced. Those people were agrarian, and there’s no sign of a river in this area. However… Lots of earthquakes. The land may certainly have shifted. Let us wait before we attempt to tell the expert his job.”
“Always the intelligent one,” Leonid said with a chuckle. “That sounds an excellent plan.”
“I agree,” Beckie said. “Take yourself to wherever you’re headed; we’ll see you for dinner tonight if you’re up for it, or tomorrow at two in any event.”
Beckie’s phone showed three PM Friday before the tall dark man she recalled from Paris stepped out of the skiff that one of Janni’s staff had piloted from the airstrip on Port Cay.
“Monsieur Brody!” she called, walking down the path toward the dock. “This way, please. And welcome.”
They met and Brody shook her hand. “Thank you for inviting me to this beautiful place. I should have planned to stay more than a day.”
“Thank you. Ian’s work, for the most part. If you’d like to stay a bit longer, accommodations are certainly available. However, while it’s sunny today, rain is forecast for the weekend, off and on.” They’d reached the door where Boynton was waiting. After a quick introduction they settled at the glass table on the lanai.
“Leonid and Fedor are due momentarily,” Boynton said.
“Good. When they arrive, we’ll begin. They will lead our effort on your behalf.” She smiled. “Since that region has interested them, I’m sure they will have pertinent questions.”
“Excellent,” Brody said. He gave her a wide grin. “I hope I can find pertinent answers.”
“While we wait,” she said, “how is Doctor Jones? All right, I hope? And I am curious. Where is your base? In Pakistan, or closer to the museums?”
“Jones is well, although…” A wry smile overtook his face. “… he is not fond of travel. As you might guess. I presume you share his aversion, for a different reason.”
“Actually, I’m okay with travel, though it isn’t as comfortable now. My… I’m tempted to say ‘handlers’ but that’s not really fair. My friends prefer I remain close to home, for the time being, at least.”
“Ah. Good for them. While we spend a great deal of time in Pakistan, and will spend more once we begin in earnest, our base is near Marseille. The shipping traffic through the port sometimes brings… interesting objects to light.”
Beckie covered her surprise with a quick smile, but only had time to say “Ah,” before Leonid came through the slider ahead of Fedor. She made the introductions, adding Willie and Beth Stadd as they followed the Russians.
After a round of small talk and greetings, Beckie began. “So, Doctor Brody, what brings you to visit us?”
He placed the tea cup carefully and leaned back in his chair. Is he getting ready to… lie? Why?
“I have two or perhaps three goals. The first has been met: to meet the men you will deploy on our behalf.” He nodded to Leonid and Fedor. “The second is to learn your schedule for their deployment, now that you have had time to consider the information we gave you. Finally, to answer any questions you may have. At least, those that pertain to your task.” He steepled his fingers. “While others may arise, those were my initial thoughts.”
Beckie nodded. “Reasonable.” She turned to Leonid. “Would you and Fedor like to lead off?”
Leonid spent a few minutes reviewing his and Fedor’s knowledge of the Indus Valley. Beckie observed Brody’s expressions as he listened. He seems surprised that they’re interested and, I guess, well-informed. She had no yardstick with which to gauge their expertise beyond Brody’s reactions, so she kept her thoughts to herself.
When Leonid finished, Brody leaned forward again. “I will need far less introductory material than I’d planned. I think you two are an excellent choice.
“I doubt that this will be germane to your task, but a year ago, some farmers’ children were playing in the valley we have indicated, and found what appeared to be part of a structure—a foundation— made of fired bricks. Fired in a style that has been seen in other settlements associated with the IVC, as you call it.
“Hoping for a reward, I suppose, one of the farmers pointed the find out to his local chief, and in several months, the antiquities departments in the government received the report.
“By luck and nothing else, as is true so often in archeology, Jones and I were working that day, in that department. We requested permission to research the find.”
He turned to Beckie. “We had already been in contact with Mr. Jamse, seeking his advice about security as we planned to excavate sites north of Islamabad. When we focused our attention on this location, we continued our association, leading to our meeting in Paris.
“That is by-the-by, however. In our preliminary investigation, we determined that the site might fit the model of a Bronze Age settlement. Or one from that era, at least.”
He picked up his cup and sipped. Boynton offered a carafe of hot water and more tea; Brody accepted and set a new cup to steep. “We also poked around—” Leonid chuckled. “Of course we did. How could we resist?” Brody said in return. “We discovered through soundings what could be the mouth of a… Well it could be a cave, but since it does not appear natural, we hope it will be a storage place. Perhaps a mine.”
“From an historical point of view,” Leonid said, “we acknowledge the possible importance of such a discovery, if it pans out. But we… Mrs. Jamse’s team is… seems to be overkill, if I may say so?” Beckie nodded. This could be interesting. He continued, “What obstructions have you already met that bring you to desire an armed team for your security?”
Brody leaned away once more. “You know that Pakistan has many, perhaps hundreds of splinter groups, each acting as if it is the final arbiter of right and moral activity within its sphere of influence. Some approach the IS way of enforcement, though none local to our site. And I should say, most have not approached the brutality of the group in Syria and Iraq. Yet. However, the ones that are most local, two of the chiefs speaking for the others, have agreed that no excavation should take place.”
“Even with government approval?” Beckie asked.
“Perhaps especially with government approval. This is Baluchistan, after all.” Beckie recognized the twisted smile he gav
e her. She’d seen it on Ian’s face when a difficult situation offered only poor choices. “The government enjoys approval when they mandate things the chiefs agree with. Or, more approval, at least. The rebels, the Baluchistan Liberation Army, have been fighting Islamabad for years.”
“Ah. Thanks. I remember some of that from info that we…” She nodded at Willie. “… were doing in preparation for this. But the level of discontent wasn’t quite that clear. Or maybe, I didn’t interpret it that way.”
Brody nodded. “Since the formation of Pakistan with the current borders, the area encompassed by Baluchistan has been in dispute. The native population has always been… desirous, at least, of freedom from the forced rule from Islamabad. The BLA’s existence proves that feeling.” He leaned back and looked out across the water south. “Even at that, I don’t believe it germane to our security problem; we have no interest in supplanting local control.”
“The trick will be convincing the locals that that’s the case, won’t it?”
“Certainly true, Mrs. Jamse. That task will probably fall to both of us. So…” Brody looked back to Leonid. “… we have those disaffected to contend with. And then of course, there are the usual robbers and thieves looking for antiquities to make off with, to offer on the black market.”
“Who keeps them at bay until we arrive?” Fedor asked, the first words he’d spoken.
“Fear of the local chiefs, mostly. Also, at the site there’s nothing visible except the small foundation the children discovered. Robbers are notorious for wanting others to do the hard work, allowing them to swoop in at the end and make off with the spoils.”
“You said a mine, earlier. What would they mine?” Boynton asked.
“Depending on the actual era, copper is most likely. Gold has been found west of the site, but we doubt the mountains could have produced workable quantities in the time frame we expect the settlement to date from. While copper was imported from what is now India, a more local source would have been welcome between 2700 and 2500 BCE.
