Golden Chariot

by Chris Karlsen

Atakan and Gerard rushed out. Charlotte and Uma hurriedly gathered the pieces the four had been cleaning and got them into storage containers.

  Rachel and Martine joined Uma and Charlotte grabbing any cloth or cover they could find to protect the computers.

  Personal laundry they’d hung out was scattered among the rocks and shrubs bordering the camp. They’d be picked up later when time allowed.

  Out at the wreck site, in the open water, the Suraya weighed anchor and sailed toward shore. Refik moored her in the sheltered cove adjacent to camp. The ship was large enough to withstand the winds but he wouldn’t risk the on-deck equipment.

  The strong winds continued into the night. In the predawn hours, they finally moved eastward toward the Greek Islands. At first light, everyone joined Refik in the center of camp. He broke the team into two groups. One to repair the damage wreaked on the lab and other canvas walled structures. The second group handled the carpentry work reinforcing the screened and wooden buildings as a preventative measure against another storm.

  The shower stall had blown over. The overhead water tank fastened to the support poles was intact but empty. Storm repairs to the small boats that delivered the fresh water delayed the scheduled refill. A new supply wouldn’t be brought in until the next morning.

  Cleanup and camp repair work lasted from early morning until sunset and sunset was at eight-thirty, a full fourteen hours. By the time they finished, none of the team felt like drinking or eating in the village. Everyone collapsed on blankets and towels with plates of sandwiches and beer kept cold by the kitchen’s massive generator. Charlotte declined the beer and opened a warm bottle of French Medoc she’d been saving.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been grittier, sweatier or smellier in my life,” she said and plopped down to share a blanket with Atakan.

  “I have, but it was a long time ago when I did my military service.”

  “You were in the military?”

  “Yes, for my mandatory service when I was eighteen. I hated it, the worst months of my life.”

  “What was your assignment?”

  “Watching the southeastern border. I had a great view of northern Iraq’s wildlife...snakes, lizards, and loathsome camel spiders.”

  Charlotte shuddered and sucked down a swallow of wine. “Your father was a high ranking officer. Couldn’t he secure a better deployment for you?”

  “Yes. But it is not his nature to use his influence for trivialities.”

  “You’re his son not a triviality.”

  “As an officer’s son, he expected me to accept the orders given me and execute them faithfully. This was my duty.”

  “Did you ever tell him how much you hated it where you were?”

  “To what purpose?”

  The rigid philosophy of the Vadim men, although honorable, was a tad myopic. The Chicago in her couldn’t help but think, what’s the use of having an influential father if you don’t utilize it once in awhile? The soundness of that reasoning was instantly undermined by the memory of the heated discussion she had with Atakan over her use of Sun Bear’s influence.

  “Have you ever gone against a superior when you thought they were dead wrong?” she asked.

  “Once...and no, I don’t want to discuss it.”

  #

  The next day was hotter than usual. By breakfast, the heat from the sun’s glare combined with the grit covering everyone’s skin made all of them cranky and uncomfortable. Like lemmings, they dove into the soothing water of the Aegean, Charlotte among them.

  “Come with us to the cove,” Uma said, swimming towards the inlet.

  “Go on without me. I’m heading for the promontory,” Charlotte said.

  “The cove’s beach is better, less rocks.”

  “But the dolphin pods like to hang by the promontory. See you back at camp.”

  Charlotte floated on her back with her eyes closed for several minutes until the sunlight started to sting her face. She turned over and swam away from the shore, stretching it out using a long breast stroke. She was a good hundred yards from the beach which wasn’t an uncommon distance for any of them to swim. She’d only gone a few yards more when a series of waves, three footers, rolled over her. She thought it odd but unimportant. Generally, the sea around the peninsula wasn’t prone to waves of noticeable height during the summer season. She swam through the few sets without much of a problem. A sudden, fast current caught her after the last wave. It sucked her farther out, farther than she’d planned on, and farther than she’d been before.

  Like all the team, she was a strong swimmer and tried to power through the swells and turn back. Fighting the tide, she wasn’t making any progress. The current was sweeping her the opposite direction and toward the open water. She kicked harder as the waves surged over her head, pushing against her strokes, the salt irritating her eyes. The bigger rollers kicked her ass. They were followed by rapid, much smaller rollers. Those piddling whitecaps were kicking her ass worse. Every time she opened her mouth to take a gulp of air after the first set, the second-string whitecaps smacked her in the face, sending more seawater into her lungs than air.

  She caught glimpses of the increasingly distant beach. If she screamed for help no one would hear. She forced herself not to panic. She stopped struggling and bobbed in the water, drifting, studying the flow of the current and calculating. South/Southeast. South meant open water and almost certain drowning. Southeast led to the promontory and the strip of beach she could take back to camp.

  The water swirled around her forming circles that spun one direction or the other. She lengthened her stroke, feeling the strain in her ribs as she pushed through the water. She found an eddy that spun southeast and fought her way toward the shore.

  When she reached the point where the water wasn’t over her head, she waded ashore. Exhausted, she dropped to her knees on the sand, wracked by coughing from swallowed saltwater. Panting, she pinched her nose closed with her fingers trying to stem the stream of snot the sea triggered. After a few minutes, the coughing lessened and her nose stopped running. Charlotte stood and rinsed her hands in the water then flipped her hair from her face, smoothing it back with her palms.

  The water was calm now, glassy with only an occasional minor whitecap breaking. A stone’s throw away, two dolphins breached, dived, breached and dived again.

  “Real nice timing. Where were you five minutes ago, Flipper? I could’ve used a ride.”

  Her heart was still pounding from the exertion of fighting the current when she reached camp and Atakan approached.

  “We had an earthquake while you were in the water,” he said.

  “That explains the wicked rip tide I got caught in. I almost drowned.”

  He grunted. “Why didn’t you call for help?”

  “I was too far out and the current moved too fast for you to hear.”

  “You should have yelled anyway. Cilgin sey! What is wrong with you? You know better than to swim such a distance alone.”

  “I’m not an idiot. I’m a victim of circumstance.”

  He took her chin in his fingers and tipped her head to each side checking her out in the sunlight.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I am looking at your eyes. They’re pink and puffy as a baboon’s bottom.”

  “That’s the best comparison you could come up with?”

  “No, it’s just the first one that came to my mind.”

  She batted his hand away. “How big was the quake?”

  “I’d guess a 5.0. There’s no official announcement yet, only that it was an underwater quake and the epicenter was several miles off Rhodes.”

  “Shake and bake.”

  Atakan looked puzzled.

  “It’s what Californians say when you get an earthquake on a super hot day,” she explained. “Anything in camp wrecked?”

  “No. But, if you’re feeling fine and your eyes aren’t too sore, you need to get ready. Refik is on the Suraya and we’re the startin
g dive team. We’ll report any new quake damage to the wreck. If no major problems exist, you and I are authorized to explore the area behind the goddesses.”

  “Fantastic. Give me a minute to put drops in my eyes and we can go.” Charlotte slapped Atakan on the ass as she took off, smiling to herself at his startled expression.

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  “Fingers crossed for you, Charlotte. I hope you discover an effective entry. It is my wish you find your proof,” Refik said.

  “Thank you.” It was the first time he’d offered her encouraging words for her theory. Then, he ruined her sense of delight.

  “Stay to the inspection area unless you’re positive it’s safe to enter the interior,” Refik warned. “You, I’m not worried about,” he said quietly to Atakan.

  Charlotte heard and looked up while slipping her fins on. “You’re worried about me? Why?”

  Refik walked away ignoring the question.

  Atakan answered, but whatever he said was drowned out by his fins slapping against the deck.

  “Hey, what did he mean?” Charlotte repeated and followed him to the dive platform.

  “He’s concerned your enthusiasm might override good sense, that you might--wait there’s a phrase in English which applies.” Atakan made a pretense of trying to recall the words. Frowning as though concentrating, he tapped the side of his temple. “It’s screw-up. You might screw-up. He says don’t.”

  The assumption annoyed and baffled her. She hadn’t done anything to deserve it. She kept silent. Only a fool or a dope would challenge Refik. She was neither. However, Atakan was another story.

  “Here’s another English phrase for you. Bite me.”

  “Where? A variety of images fills my imagination even now.”

  “You tell me. What’s your preference when you play sultan and harem girl?”

  A flash of surprise crossed his face. He apparently never expected her to mention the amusing sex game again. Foolish man. Like good saffron, she’d use it when a little zing was called for.

  He glanced around to see if anyone heard her. “Shh, what did I tell you about discussing such things? It’s very improper for you to bring this up in conversation with a man.”

  She hooked her finger through the loop on his wetsuit’s zipper and tugged, forcing him to bend close. “Gotta news flash—sultan, that little nugget about you is gold.”

  She released her hold, pulled her mask down and adjusted it. “Mask up,” she said and moved to the bottom step of the platform.

  He fixed his mask over his nose and cheeks and hopped down next to her. “This is a fantasy. You said I play this dressing up game. I never said I did.”

  “Can’t hear you, jumping in now.” She disappeared under the water’s surface.

  Atakan lowered himself on the guideline behind her.

  Prior to the meltemi, Talat and Refik set up the large stationary lamps. Today was the first chance the team had to return to the wreck. As soon as the Suraya anchored, Talat had started the generators for the lights. Charlotte flipped the one they’d use on and angled it toward their designated area.

  They exchanged a mutual “oh shit” look. Charlotte and Atakan stood side-by-side on the seafloor analyzing the stern’s severe shift in position. Any hoped for entrance in the unexplored section of the hold today had to be postponed. They’d discuss the situation with Refik.

  They stayed off the wreck while conducting the inspection. Fallen rock spilled over most of the stern’s port side, likely the result of the morning’s earthquake. The ship sustained significant new damage. The new problems negated the progress the team had made removing the rotted planks over the Rhodian amphoras. In addition to the excess strain from the rocks, more decking had collapsed onto the hold behind the statues. The deepest recesses of the cargo area might prove inaccessible this dive season. Charlotte’s spirit sank at the thought of this lost opportunity.

  The added weight forced everything from mid-ship to tilt sharply toward the slope. The shift tweaked the back end further weakening its stability. The wreck was being torn apart, the forces of nature twisting one side of the ship in one direction and the other side in the opposite direction.

  Atakan and Charlotte freed the heavy cord attached to the light from the sandy cover where Talat and Refik had buried it. Each took an end and lit the interior.

  They located a possible entry to the hold. In the chaos of broken planks, pottery knocked askew and partially covered goddesses, a dark triangle appeared in the light. Together, they tested the sturdiness of another layer of rocks. It felt firm enough to support them and they climbed down closer for a better look. The opening was small. Charlotte thought with some additional removal work a solo diver might be able to pass through.

  She tapped her watch face, held up three fingers, tapped her chest, and pointed to the black hole. She wanted to see if there was a way to estimate the extent of the damage and if access was feasible. Atakan nodded he understood and waited on the rock pile within sight.

  She picked her way across the planks. She straddled a pile of shattered deck and rocks and bent to light the entry. The goddesses swayed as a sharp aftershock sent a jolt through the wreck. The ship groaned as the wall of rocks broke and rolled over the ancient hull. The tremor loosened stones from higher on the submerged cliff. The heavy rumble of the crumbling precipice reverberated through the water.

  She backed out at the onset and joined Atakan.

  They swam out over the slope observing what additional dangers the movement caused. Around them, the ship gave another loud groan as the stern slid further into the deeper water. They kicked hard, hurrying from the immediate area. If they were too close and the stern broke free, they could get caught in the downward rush of water. The wreck continued to creak as they swam to the first decomp station.

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Sevastopol

  Maksym tapped the top of the fresh package of unfiltered Gitanes against his palm. The tobacco packed down well. He thought the habit made the first puff more potent. This is what he was told years ago when he was a young army recruit. The theory sounded reasonable. He removed the cellophane and inner foil, then tapped the corner against his finger. Three cigarettes slid out.

  His phone rang. He checked his watch. Garabed’s call was right on time.

  “Talk to me,” Maksym said, lighting a cigarette.

  “Not as much new as I hoped. Vadim routinely reports on what artifacts they’ve recovered. Most of the rest of his conversations with Firat are administrative in nature.”

  “This is disappointing.”

  “He also discussed Ekrem’s woman and the possibility the two murders were a personal vendetta.”

  Maksym plucked a leaf of loose tobacco from his tongue, wondering how he made the real connection. It wasn’t the investigative path he thought Atakan would take. Ministry men focused on smuggling operations in their inquiries. It was an interesting deviation for Atakan to consider.

  “Go on.”

  “Firat denied there was any validity to the premise.”

  Maksym didn’t respond. He’d talk to Stevan. In spite of Firat’s negative reaction, the fact Vadim had hit upon the truth might require a change in plans. If Maksym was planning the operation, he’d step-up the time table.

  “You still there?” Garabed asked.

  “Yes. Anything else I should know?”

  “Yes, we may need to cut my activity here short. Someone has been asking the locals about the Damla family. I do not know who is the nosy one, could be Vadim or one of a couple of others. None have challenged the existence of Basri Damla, but I suspect I am on borrowed time.”

  “I will see what my employer wants and get back to you.” “One more thing. The Schweiger woman...I want her when I am finished here.”

  “Not a problem.”

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Bozburun

  “Good news.” Refik propped his feet on his desk. A damp towel hung around his neck. “
Well, good news tempered with so-so news. Sit,” he told Charlotte and Atakan, gesturing to the empty chairs in front of his desk.

  “What’s the so-so news?” From Refik’s casual attitude, Charlotte guessed it couldn’t be too bad.

  “For this season, I’ve decided on very limited access to the stern hold. Maybe next year the situation will change.”

  “I thought as much.” Charlotte rated the news below so-so but better than horrible.

  The safety problems had continued to mount. Unlike treasure hunters, MIAR staff respected the dangers of the sea and chose caution over everything else. Risk factors weren’t taken as seriously by treasure hunters. MIAR was lucky. Although the wreck was known to the public, it was protected by the Turkish Navy who patrolled the area. MIAR also maintained good relationships with local fishermen. They kept a watchful eye on the location during the off season.

  “You say access isn’t impossible this season, just limited,” she said. “We will work some portion.”

  “Yes, but it will be last, which is still good news.” Refik ran the towel over his hair, balled it up, and then tossed it into a corner basket.

  “You and Talat re-evaluated the wreck subsequent to the aftershock. What did you find?” Atakan asked.

  “Stacks of pottery and trade goods remain in the primary cargo area which is stable. Set off to one side, under extra layers of dunnage are rows of large pithoi. I want those to come up as soon as possible. Tomorrow’s dive you two start work there.” Refik covered his mouth and yawned. Then, he yawned a second time. “Don’t mean to yawn in your face, my butt is dragging. Talat and I fought rougher than usual currents.

  Charlotte’s nostrils flared as she suffocated a sympathetic yawn of her own. “I got caught in a strong, swift current after this morning’s first tremor.”

  The screen door squeaked open and the three of them looked up. Talat came in a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He didn’t say hello or acknowledge anyone, not even Refik. He went right to the narrow office sofa and sprawled out with one leg on the cushions and one leg hanging off the edge. He laid there with his eyes closed managing to inhale and exhale without removing the cigarette. Smoke streamed from his nose and between his lips.