“What about Allison?” Payne wondered.
“Her presence was a little tougher to explain. Thankfully, one of my colleagues, Henri, told me that the Holy Mountain sheltered many women refugees during the Greek War of Independence in the nineteenth century. I claimed that her life had been in danger-which technically it was-and we decided the safest place for her was with us.”
“Did they buy it?”
“Eventually. Once I pointed out that her expertise led to our discovery of the treasure, they were willing to cut her some slack.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
“Speaking of which, is she there? I’d love to tell her the good news.”
“Sorry, Nick. She left last week.”
Dial growled softly. “Dammit, Jon. I thought I told all of you to stay in Greece until this situation was rectified.”
Payne smiled. “Relax. She’s still in Greece. She flew up to Athens to meet with Petr Ulster.”
“Petr’s in Greece? What’s he doing there? I thought he never left the Archives.”
“Normally, he doesn’t. But he was willing to make an exception. It’s not every day that one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World is discovered.”
“Good point. But what’s he doing in Athens?”
“While you’ve been busy with legal issues, I’ve been dealing with the treasure. Obviously, with a discovery of this magnitude, everyone wants to get their hands on it. The Greek government says it’s theirs. The Turks claim it was stolen from them. The Italians claim it belonged to the Roman Empire, so they should somehow be involved. Not to mention the monks of Mount Athos, who think the treasure should belong to the monasteries.”
“And Petr?”
“For the time being, all parties decided that the treasure needed to be catalogued and preserved as quickly as possible by an independent organization. And that’s where Petr comes into play. The Ulster Archives has a sterling reputation around the world, so everyone was fine with his involvement. Right now he and Allison are in Athens, trying to sort out the logistics.”
Dial paused. “While you were listing interested parties, I couldn’t help but notice that you left your name off the list.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely interested. I have a team of lawyers in Athens right now, making sure our interests are protected. That being said, we certainly aren’t going to be selfish about it. Our number one goal is to make sure that this treasure is available to the public. Back when I was a kid, I stood in a long line to see King Tut’s treasure at the Smithsonian Institution. The sight of all that gold just blew me away. With that in mind, I want a new generation of kids to have the same experience with this discovery.”
“And how does D.J. feel about that?”
“He’s completely cool with it-as long as he’s allowed to keep the throne for his backyard. He thinks it will impress his neighbors.”
Dial laughed. “I think he’s right.”
“In all seriousness, we’ve been assured by all parties that our team-you, me, D.J., Allison, and Marcus-will be recognized for the discovery and compensated for it.”
“And Jarkko!” shouted the Finn as he walked up behind Payne. “Don’t forget Jarkko!”
Payne glanced back at Jarkko, who was wearing a Speedo and nothing else. The image would be burned into his memory for a very long time. “And my half-naked friend Jarkko.”
Dial smiled. “I appreciate my inclusion. I truly do. And I know Marcus will be thrilled.”
“Once the dust settles, we can all get together and talk about details. But for now, rest assured that someday soon you’re going to have one hell of a retirement.”
“Enough business!” Jarkko ordered. “It is time to get off phone.”
“Go on,” Dial said, “have some fun. I’ll call you as soon as you’re allowed to leave Greece.”
“Thanks, Nick. Keep me posted.”
Payne disconnected and stood up from his lounge chair. He spotted his best friend walking across the deck of the yacht. Jones was wearing a bright green floral shirt, a white bathing suit, and a pair of flip-flops, an outfit that looked remarkably similar to the one he had been wearing in Florida when they heard the first message from Richard Byrd.
“It’s pretty sad,” Payne said to him.
“What is?” Jones asked.
“You’re about to become one of the most famous people in the world, and you still don’t know how to dress.”
“Me?” Jones argued. “Look at Jarkko. It looks like he’s smuggling sausage in his shorts.”
Payne shook his head. “No wonder he does so much business with Kaiser.”
Jones laughed loudly.
Jarkko frowned even though he didn’t fully understand the comment. “You make joke at Jarkko’s expense?”
“Don’t worry,” Jones assured him as he held his index finger and thumb about an inch apart. “It was just a tiny one.”
The Finn shrugged it off. “That is fine. Jarkko does not mind tiny joke. Do you know why?”
“No,” Payne said. “Why?”
Jarkko put his arms around Payne and Jones. “Because, my friends, it is time to drink!”
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Some people are going to read this novel and assume that Heinrich Schliemann is a fictional character. How could someone like him-with all his quirks and crazy adventures-actually be real? Well, I have a confession to make. Not only was Schliemann a real person, I purposely excluded many of the wilder tales about his life in order to make him seem more believable. For all the bizarre details, visit a library or run an Internet search. Or, if you can get your hands on a copy, read Allison Taylor’s dissertation.
She definitely earned her doctorate.
Speaking of research, one of the most difficult things about writing an international thriller is all the legwork that must be done before a single word is typed. Since the majority of action in The Lost Throne occurs in Greece and Russia, two countries where English is a secondary language, I was forced to Americanize the spelling of many names and cities. If you’re having trouble finding details about Metéora, Spárti, or any other location in this book, make sure you try alternative spellings. Because these places actually exist. And they’re fascinating.
For additional information about this novel and answers to frequently asked questions about my writing, please visit my website: www.chriskuzneski.com.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chris Kuzneski is the internationally bestselling author of Sword of God, Sign of the Cross, and The Plantation. His thrillers have been translated into more than fifteen languages. Although he grew up in Indiana, Pennsylvania, he currently lives on the Gulf Coast of Florida. To learn more, please visit his website: www.chriskuzneski.com.
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