Discoveries (Mercenaries Book 5)

by Tony Lavely

  “Damn.” Shut up, Beck! He’s got some experience with this place, these people. You put him here to do a job… Let him do it!

  “I’m not trying to step on⁠—”

  “I know that, Lyeka. Just, I hate that I need… yeah. That I need to have a guy with me just ’cause I’m a girl! But that’s not your fault. Thank you for saving me from my own error in judgment.”

  He gave her one of his rare smiles. “I would never forgive myself if I lost you, Mrs. Jamse. Believe me.”

  She grinned back at him. “Okay, Captain. When do we go?”

  Three: A Visit, Then the Dig

  Just after seven AM local time, Beckie opened the door of Leonid’s truck and slid off the edge of the plastic seat. She’d donned a kameez over her camos, and a scarf adorned her head, though her long chestnut hair was visible at the back of her neck where it disappeared into the neck of the kameez. After a look at the building that could have been a double for the one the team had set up in, she gestured to Leonid. “You set?”

  He tapped his ear as he came around the front of the truck.

  She went to the door and rapped sharply. In a minute, just before she would knock again, the door opened. A woman⁠—Beckie assumed since the person wore a full length robe, one that started at the peak of her head and ended sweeping the floor. Blue in color, with a faint trim, a slit at eye level allowed brown eyes to peer out. Her gasp was the only reaction until she spoke, “Aap say milkar khushi hoee.”

  “Assalam-o-Aleykum,” Beckie responded. She glanced at Leonid, now stepping forward and greeting the woman while Beckie thought, I hope what you said means you won’t kill us. When Leonid and the woman finished their brief conversation, she left the door open, but went into the building.

  “She will speak with Khan, to see if he will meet with us.”

  Beckie bobbed her head and wondered why he would. And then, why would he not?

  Perhaps two minutes passed before the woman returned to wave them in. She followed Leonid in and allowed the woman to close the door behind her, and then show them to a sitting room with rugs scattered about. The woman indicated they should sit. Again, she left them alone. Well, maybe not quite alone; she heard a shuffle from the doorway. Leonid agreed with a sign; it’s expected. He followed with we’ll be quiet. She agreed.

  The several silent minutes allowed Beckie to wonder about the sagacity of her actions, but she came to the conclusion that that bit of introspection did no good; they were here. Deal with it. As she did, the woman entered carrying a tray with serviceable cups and a pitcher. Two cups. Interesting. Are they for us or for someone else? Clearly, none of it was for the woman.

  She placed the tray between Beckie and Leonid’s knees and gestured that they should partake. Leonid took the tea pot and poured a well-steeped stream of tea into first her cup, then his own. The woman nodded and backed away, out of the room. Beckie lifted the cup and sipped. Pretty good. I still prefer coffee, but I’ll keep that to myself. So, this is Amir Khan’s place? Better than our Surab base! But shouldn’t the woman wear the shalwar kameez, not an abaya? With a dupatta, Fedor had said when he’d given her a brief introduction to Urdu and life in Pakistan.

  Like her misgivings of a minute before, it was too late to worry about that now. I can’t ask Leonid now. I’ll leave it for later. What are the odds I’m sampling the opium crop? was the next thing to drift through her mind. Never having used it, she had no frame of reference, but she still seemed… normal, whatever that was. To pass the time, she did some math problems and then reviewed the team’s jobs. When she got back to Ian, the tears convinced her the tea was just that. Or non-hallucinatory, anyway.

  As she wiped at her cheek, Khan appeared in the doorway. He wore a blue outfit which was otherwise the same as at the meeting yesterday. “Good morning,” he said in his British accented English. I must have started, she thought as he continued, “Five years at Cambridge, training to take over the family’s trade. However, the economic woes of the past ten years did the business in. Bankrupt, I think you say.”

  Beckie dropped her gaze for a second. Not sure what to say about that.

  He nodded. “Thank you of course. Not that it had anything to do with either of you.” The woman entered with a second tea service, this one either chrome or silver rather than the unadorned white china of theirs. He said something and the woman bowed, rather more deeply than Beckie expected, and retreated once more.

  He poured his tea and sipped. Beckie studied him to see if she’d made a faux pas, but she’d watched Leonid and expected nothing unusual.

  “Now. What brings you to visit me? I am confused as to why the both of you have arrived at such an early hour. Did I say something to upset or confuse you yesterday?”

  Leonid bowed slightly from his seated position. He spoke in Arabic, which annoyed Beckie. Because she still didn’t understand, not because he felt it the way to begin.

  The men carried on a brief conversation, of which the thing she understood was Khan’s “Shukran jazīlan.” Whoa! What’s that for?

  Leonid touched her arm. “Your pardon, Mrs. Jamse. I explained that you wished to see him today for a private discussion, and I am here to ensure nothing goes awry. On either side.”

  “Thank you, Captain. Hopefully that will ease our introduction.” She faced Khan. “Before I answer your question, Sahib, allow me to thank you myself for agreeing to meet and speak with us. Shukran jazīlan.” He gave her a very slight dip of his head and upper body. She heard Leonid draw a breath. Well, that’s something I guess he didn’t expect. “We both appreciate your time and attention. Now. You asked if we… if I was upset or confused by what you said yesterday. No, not at all.” She placed her cup on the tray. “However, I have a… problem about which I hope you can advise me. I believe it leads back to you or to the people for whom you speak. Can you tell me the real reason you wish the archeologists to depart?”

  His expression⁠—eyes wide, brows raised, nostrils flared⁠—and his small gulp warned Beckie. “Why do you believe that I have not spoken the truth?” Leonid gasped more audibly this time. Best be careful, Beck.

  “You misunderstand me. I do not doubt that the reasons you gave are valid, that you have people who fear those things. I believe there are other reasons, perhaps one, perhaps more, that are also informing your actions. I would like to understand them.”

  “And you would then depart?”

  Beckie allowed her lips to curve into a faint smile. “As you imagine, from the wistful look in your eyes, that is unlikely. Since I do not know what they are, I suppose it is possible that you might have a reason that I would agree requires our work to stop.” He took a breath as if to speak and she raised her hand. “I think the odds are small. Do not take action expecting that to be the case.”

  He sat back, deflated. “I cannot.”

  “Very well. I assume therefore that continuing the dig may uncover something which your people do not wish exposed. Whether it is illegal, or shows the people in a bad light, or causes some one of you to lose money or a commodity which⁠—”

  He rose and left the room.

  Sure her face showed her despair, she whispered, “Leonid, maybe we should go.”

  Leonid rose silently and gave her a hand up. No one interrupted their journey back to the truck, though Beckie was sure she heard footsteps as they departed the house.

  “So, given his reaction,” Beckie said, wriggling on the truck’s seat, “I’ll guess they’re trying to hide something, and fear the scientists will run across it in their work. Will it be a problem to talk to the others about this? Like, now?”

  He glanced over, then shook his head as he avoided a motorbike. “We’ll head back to the house. Fedor and Tark are there now; if we need the others, we’ll either call them or talk at the site.”

  She nodded, then put her feet up on the dash and contemplated the few facts they had. It all comes back to we don’t know enough!

  Sitting in the kitchen
, Beckie surveyed the group, then settled on Leonid. “How much of an aerial survey have you done so far?”

  Leonid turned to Fedor, who leaned back a little then said, “We worked in conjunction with the archeologists. As they had interest only in the immediate area, that was our focus. Willie approved using our drone to provide them video. Tark handled the drone and Else Meyer did preliminary data reduction before passing the images along to Chouj.”

  “Right,” Tarquin said. “Up to the peak of the hills on both sides, and no more than five hundred meters along the valley.”

  “What did they find? Sorry if I missed it in some report; Khan was just too concerned about our presence. I’m of course connecting our presence with Doctor Smythe’s team remaining, as if that was the problem he faces.”

  “Righto. I’m sure it was buried in some report, with a lot of pictures of sand and rocks. Basically, nothing unexpected. They found the GPR to have more value.”

  “GPR?”

  “Ground penetrating radar. Images sub-surface.”

  “Oh. Okay. The visual images. Could Else find something interesting in them? And can you get us high-res shots of the scenery five or so kilometers around the site?”

  “I should probably stream it to Else, then. It’ll take a little longer, but she’ll be able to begin sooner. I’ll get it started.”

  “Cool, thanks!” Beckie said as Tarquin left the room. “Now, it’s gotten late enough so people are awake in London, right?”

  From the hallway, she heard, “Too right it is!”

  “Thanks, Tark!” She dug her phone out and scrolled to Derek’s number. When he answered, she quickly reviewed the Asian Art Museum’s role in their current job and the information from Else about the web site’s possible location.

  His response was eager. “So, look around and see what we can find? Time frame?”

  “The limit is twenty-four hours from an unspecified time that might be four AM this morning, here.”

  “And if we miss it?”

  “Bad things may happen to Ian and Ralf.”

  “Ian’s dead and Ralf’s with you⁠—”

  “No. We think Ralf’s safe, but not Ian. Ralf might not be safe, but if not, there’s damn all we can do about it right now. So the goal is Ian; find him or some direction that leads to him. Fuck. This is all news to you. Trust me; I’ll explain later.”

  “Got it. Anything else?”

  “Keep in touch.”

  “Will do. You do the same; I’ll expect answers.”

  Beckie disconnected before smiling at Leonid. “Well, we were going up to the site today. Anatoly and Fabien must think they’ve been abandoned. Will Chouj be there?”

  “Mrs. Jamse,” Leonid said after he’d laughed for the second time, “ride with me. Fedor, you take Beth. Tark!”

  “Allo!”

  “Are you staying here or moving with us?”

  “It’s convenient to control the drones from here, and I can monitor the feeds to Else. So, yeah, I’ll stay. Leave one of the trucks, right?”

  “Da.” On the way to the truck, he said, “I don’t know Chouj’s schedule; we can ask.”

  Fedor stopped before boarding his truck. “Chouj is off-site most of the day, up to Quetta. I sent Juri with him.”

  “Thanks. That’s fine.”

  After the promise of the morning, the rest of the day was boring. Not that Beckie objected, and seeing the dig, even in its early stages, was more interesting than Discovery Channel shows she’d watched. Still, while one of the archeologists took time to explain the things Leonid had just told her, the survey with Leonid and Fedor informed her of the risks in the location.

  “We think there are only two viable access routes, then?”

  “Right, looking at satellite maps and the images from the drones,” Fedor said. “The one we came in, and then…” He pointed at the ridge line forming the south boundary of the valley. “… back of that ridge, there’s another track wide enough for heavy lorries, but no evidence that it’s been used for that.”

  “Why would anyone want access to that area?”

  “No answer to that, so far,” Leonid said. “And I chose not to take time away from the work here. Yet, at least.”

  “Good!” He doesn’t need me to point him at the job. “As long as Daesh doesn’t come running down with knives drawn, anyway.”

  “Correct. I think we’ll be able to get up that way on the weekend. Early next week at the latest.”

  “Sounds good.” Beckie used the rest of the day, until sundown, walking the site and watching the patterns the scientists, and the team, made doing their jobs. Nothing blared out “red flag” to her. Chouj was still off-site, though one of Smythe’s team confirmed that she expected him tomorrow.

  After a bland dinner at the base, Beckie called Derek to see if he’d had any success.

  No was the short answer. The museum staff at all levels were talkative, friendly and completely unaware of anything that might interest Beckie.

  “Will it be a problem for you to hang around for another day? Emily’s okay, right? And Barbara won’t miss you too terribly?”

  “It’ll be fine. I can talk to them more about why they funded Smythe; we didn’t get into that end of it.”

  “Great! I’m gonna talk with Smythe’s guy here tomorrow; maybe he’ll say something that makes sense.” Not gonna hold my breath on that, though!

  The next morning, Beckie inhaled her coffee at a reasonable time, and planned her day. First thing: a call to Willie and Maurice. She didn’t need a half-hour to get the few updates from the last time she’d talked, not even a day before. She ended with, “Okay, guys. Help Shen keep everyone there safe. I’ll check in again, probably tomorrow.” She slipped the phone back into her inside shirt pocket.

  In the truck, Beckie said, “I’ll talk to Chouj when we get there.”

  Leonid started the engine before glancing across the cab at her. “Not thinking of giving in, Mrs. Jamse? Not that anyone would blame you.”

  “Ian was my mentor. Would he have given in?” He gave her a quick shake of the head. “So no, I’m not giving in, either. But, making it look confusing? That might buy us a few more hours.”

  “Ah. Another reason you’re in charge of me, and not the other way round,” he said with a chuckle.

  “Which doesn’t mean I won’t listen to any ideas you have.”

  Chouj would be available at about eleven-thirty; the intervening two hours were filled with more reviews of the site and the work. Conversations with each of the team members left her with an okay feeling that nothing had been overlooked.

  Unfortunately, her hour-plus long conversation with Chouj provided no insight, and she decided that with his twenty scientists and workers, some of whom were locals he’d recruited, the disruption caused by playing at leaving wouldn’t be worth the few hours they might gain. Besides, the time’s already up.

  More concerning was Chouj’s belief that there was nothing besides the site for Khan and Rezaei to be interested in. Sure hope Else and Tark can find something.

  She’d not left Chouj’s shelter before the reality of the situation hit her; she thanked him and walked out into the dim haze of a light mist. We don’t have any time… Khan may not be unalterably opposed to Smythe’s work, but he’s not ready to give us any help. So who is? I don’t believe Derek’s gonna find anything in Nice; maybe I should just have him go back to Barbara’s job?

  Rather than cry about it, she scanned the area. Little’d changed from her surveys earlier: maybe thirty yards from Chouj’s tent, four or five local men were digging and screening in the confines of a grid laid out with ribbons. Above them, on the slope to the north, one man had binoculars and seemed to be watching the valley. Hmm. That doesn’t look like one of Leonid’s guys. She shook her head. I’ll ask him.

  A little further along the valley, two more men and a woman were standing at the upslope on the northwest face of the site. They were operating a bulky instrument.
Maybe that’s the ground penetrating radar Tark told me about. One of the men was rapping on the side of the case as they held it to the sloping surface. “I see a lot of data processing in your future,” she muttered in their direction before taking a faint path up the south face from just behind Chouj’s tent.

  I’ll see what I can find up there. The path became steeper the farther she went. Getting my exercise for today, that’s for sure. After thirty-five minutes, she reached the local crest. Breathing heavily, she found a flat-topped rock and dropped to sit. Oh, yeah. Almost eight thousand feet, Tark said. She panted a little more. The mist had become closer to sprinkles, although far from steady. The kameez she wore was hardly damp.

  That must be one of the golden eagles, she thought, spying a large bird soaring above her. She saw the light brown, almost tan head, and the white flashes in the large wings. I’ll just be still, so it won’t think I’m prey.

  Prey came again to her mind about two minutes later when four men, again in the local uniform of shalwar kameez, these all dark blue, popped up over the lip of the crest from the side away from the site. Her breath was nearly normal; she bounded from the rock and paced toward the two men facing her.

  Before she could even wave or call a greeting in her broken Arabic, or even less fluent Urdu, the two men at the sides closed ranks behind her, blocking the retreat she’d just begun to contemplate.

  Ahead, those two carried a bundle of… What’s that? A blanket? What⁠—

  They threw it over her head and rushed in to trip her, taking her down. “Ooof!” She hit the ground and rocks dug into her ribs and belly. She felt hands at her ankles while the blanket was being yanked and dragged. What? What are they doing?

  She didn’t have to wait long for an answer. Her ankles had been tied together and the blanket made into a bag from which her tethered ankles extended. She could see light around her legs where the blanket closed. Hands grabbed her ankles and dragged her on her back over the lip of the hill and down its side. She tried kicking but that earned her a rifle butt or boot at her shoulder. When the hill dropped her three or four feet, she opted for using her hands to protect her head.