The Cylon Curse

by J. Robert Kennedy

  Laura rose, stepping toward him and putting an arm over his shoulders. “Of course it’s not.”

  “It is. We should have given up long ago, but my pigheadedness wouldn’t allow it. We’re broke! Absolutely broke! That lunch today? That was for show. We’ll barely be able to eat for the next two weeks because of it, and it’s all my fault. I’ve poured every cent we have into this project, despite her objections.” He dropped into the nearest chair, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She’s been wonderful. She’s done everything she can to cut our expenses. She’s begged and borrowed from friends and family, and worked the Internet for donations.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly closed. “She’s my rock,” he gasped. “I don’t know what I’d do without her. If anything happens…”

  Laura patted his shoulder. “We’ll do everything we can.” She looked at Tommy. “Is there anything more you can do?”

  He made a show of cracking his fingers. “Never give up! Never surrender!”

  42 |

  Suqut Brigade Safe House

  Athens, Greece

  “Give me your husband’s phone number.”

  “Why?”

  Rafiq pressed a knife against the woman’s throat. “The number, now!”

  “But he doesn’t—”

  He slipped the knife through the buttons on her shirt and tucked the blade under one of her breasts. “If anything but a number comes out of your mouth next, I cut it off.”

  He felt her tremble under his power, under his control, and it excited him. He leered at her, determined now more than ever to have this woman before his business with her was done.

  He might even take her with him.

  A white woman with a broken spirit would fetch a lot of money on the black market. He had no doubt there were many sheiks out there who would pay handsomely for such a prize.

  But not before he had broken her of any will to resist.

  She gave him the number, thankfully preserving her value with two breasts, then he shoved the gag back in her mouth. He left her, whimpering, and returned to join the others. He dropped into his chair and motioned toward Zaman, on the phone with their lookout.

  “Are they at the hotel?”

  Zaman nodded. “Yeah, they just arrived.”

  “Police?”

  “None.”

  Rafiq smiled. “Good.” He pulled up the video recorded of the professor’s wife earlier, then forwarded it to the phone number she had just given him. Along with a simple text.

  You know what we want.

  43 |

  King George Hotel

  Athens, Greece

  Tommy jerked back in his chair, frustration on his face, causing the entire room to stop their conversation and focus on him.

  “That doesn’t look promising.”

  Tommy frowned at Acton. “I’m sorry, I tried, but all I can be sure of is that the van enters this dead zone, then never comes out. There are half a dozen ways to come out of there, including the way they came in, but I can’t find it.”

  Acton pursed his lips. “So, they switched vehicles. And probably knew about the dead zone.”

  Tommy nodded. “Right. And they’d have to switch into something similar in size, since there were at least four of them, plus Professor Galanos. But I’ve gone through the video, and there are literally dozens of vehicles coming out of that area that could fit the bill.” His shoulders slumped in defeat. “There are just too many variables. We need a new piece of information that I can use to narrow it down.”

  Reading checked his phone. “Still nothing from London. I’m going to assume the Greek authorities are canvassing the area for witnesses to any vehicle exchange you’re referring to. I’m sure the major will have already found the van and be going over it with a fine-toothed comb. If we’re lucky, they’ll find something that can help us.”

  Antoniou sighed. “Luck. It always comes down to luck.” His phone vibrated in his hand and he checked the display, his eyes narrowing before his jaw dropped. “I-I think it’s them!”

  Everyone leaned closer. “What’s it say?”

  “You know what we want.” Antoniou looked at the others. “What do they mean by that? What do they want? Why don’t they just say it!”

  Tommy pointed over his shoulder. “There’s a video attached.”

  Antoniou handed him the phone. “I don’t understand these things.”

  Tommy tapped away at the device then his laptop, and within moments, they were all watching the video. Acton’s stomach flipped at the sight of the bruised and battered Juno, tied to a chair, her cheeks stained with tears, her mouth stuffed with a gag.

  And terror in her bloodshot eyes.

  Ten seconds later it was over, with nothing revealed, nothing said, nothing beyond the text message that had accompanied it.

  You know what we want.

  Acton returned to his seat. “They have to be talking about the urn. That’s the only thing truly of value to anyone outside the academic community, right?”

  Antoniou wiped the tears from his face. “Yes, but they have it.” He pulled at his hair. “What else could they possibly be talking about? What else could I have that they want? Money? I’ll send them the bank statements. I’m broke! They can have my house, my car, anything!”

  “This isn’t about money.”

  Acton looked at Reading. “You sound certain.”

  Reading smiled. “I’ve been in this business a tad longer than you lot.” He pointed at the phone. “The message tells us a fair bit. If they wanted money, they would have said so, but they don’t. They want some object, or some service. This isn’t a ransom demand looking for cash, and what could anyone possibly want from an archaeology professor?” He looked at the three of them in the room. “No offense meant.”

  Acton grinned. “None taken, I’m sure. But if we assume you’re right, and it’s not money, and it’s not some service, then it must be an artifact they’re after. Which brings us back to the elephant in the room—they already have the only thing that was worth anything.”

  “You’re forgetting. There’s one other clue in that message.”

  Acton’s eyes narrowed, wondering what he could have missed in those five little words. “Enlighten me.”

  “Our theory was that they might have taken her to validate the artifact to the buyer.”

  Acton exhaled slowly, his head bobbing. “Which, if true, would mean they’d have no reason to contact anyone. They’d just take her to the meet, then either kill her or release her.”

  Reading nodded. “Exactly. So, I think we can now safely eliminate that theory. Which brings us back to them wanting something from you, Professor. Are you positive there’s nothing else of value?”

  Antoniou shrugged. “Nothing from a monetary perspective. Some private collectors, I’m sure, would pay dearly to have some genuine artifacts from that era, but we’re talking thousands of Euros at best, not millions. And besides, it would be illegal to possess them.”

  Reading gave Acton a quick look over the naïve statement. “Professor, things have been disappearing for months. Obviously, they’re of value to someone, and those people are not concerned with the legalities.”

  Antoniou sighed, shaking his head. “You’re right, of course. But who would be willing to kidnap for such items? Kill for such items?”

  Acton had to agree. There was no way anyone would kill for a clay jar or a bronze dagger. The monetary value just wasn’t there, nor were the bragging rights.

  But an urn, inscribed by Cylon himself, with a mystery inside?

  That was something someone might kill for.

  “It has to be the urn,” said Acton.

  “But—”

  Acton held up his hand, cutting off Antoniou. “Think about it. The urn is the only thing worth any amount of money that could be worth killing for. We’re quite certain that the men who kidnapped your wife are the same ones who attacked the dig last night. The only reason they’d attack was to
get that urn, but their attack was thwarted.”

  “But they got the urn!”

  Acton shook his head. “No. Someone got the urn. Remember, you’ve had thefts for weeks now.”

  “Months.”

  “Okay, months. Hugh, would a group like the Suqut Brigade be the type that would sit around for months, stealing one artifact after another, then fencing them for a few thousand Euros at a time?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Exactly.” Acton turned to Antoniou. “I think whoever has been stealing your artifacts is someone on the inside.”

  Antoniou nodded. “Which is what we suspected.”

  “Right. And I think they took the opportunity to steal the urn while the attack was underway. It’s the only thing that fits.”

  Antoniou sighed. “I can’t think of any other possibility either.”

  “Neither can I. But there’s one little problem with this.”

  Antoniou stared at Acton. “What?”

  “The Suqut Brigade obviously thinks you are the inside man.”

  44 |

  Suqut Brigade Safe House

  Athens, Greece

  It had been fifteen minutes, and Rafiq was growing impatient. Scratch that. He was already beyond impatient. He stared at the phone again, his mind playing tricks on him, certain he had sensed a vibration that was never there.

  Zaman cleared his throat. “Umm, do we know if he got the message?”

  Rafiq twisted his beard around his finger. “If it didn’t go through, the phone would have said so. It went through, though we don’t know if he’s actually seen it.”

  “Then what are we going to do? They must know that we have no way of knowing, so maybe they’ll just ignore us and play dumb.”

  The very notion had Rafiq on his feet, rage building. “Come with me.” He stormed down the hall, Zaman on his heels, and entered the woman’s room. He handed the phone to Zaman. “Record me.”

  Zaman tapped the screen a few times, then held the phone out in front of him. Rafiq advanced on the woman, her eyes bulging with fear, and he punched her as hard as he could in the nose, the satisfying crunch of it breaking felt deep in his loins as the endorphins surged through his body—exactly as he imagined every moment of Jannah to be.

  The woman cried out against her gag, tears and blood flowing down her cheeks as Rafiq stepped away, indicating for Zaman to get a closeup of her shattered face. Zaman nodded at him, the shot confirmed.

  Rafiq grabbed the phone then forwarded the video with another text message.

  I’m growing impatient. If you don’t respond, we’ll show you what we do to infidel women.

  45 |

  King George Hotel

  Athens, Greece

  “Oh no!”

  Acton wrapped his arm around Laura, holding her tight as they all watched in horror the short video showing someone punching Juno in the face, and the resulting damage.

  Tommy, his voice cracking, read the message. “It says, ‘I’m growing impatient. If you don’t respond, we’ll show you what we do to infidel women.’”

  Antoniou’s head lolled to the side, Reading and Acton springing to his aid. Acton turned to Mai. “Get a facecloth from the bathroom and run it under cold water. Tommy, go get some ice.”

  Mai rushed for the bathroom, but the newly returned Leather stopped Tommy. “I’ll get the ice.” He left the room, Reading locking the door behind him then holding up a hand, ending Adelaide’s attempt to follow.

  “Let’s all just stay put.”

  She nodded, returning to her seat as Mai returned with the cold cloth. Acton placed it on the shocked husband’s forehead, then gently slapped the man’s cheek.

  “Basil, can you hear me? Just breathe. You’ll be okay, just breathe.”

  Antoniou moaned then his eyes fluttered open and he inhaled deeply. “Wh-what happened?”

  “You fainted.” Acton removed the cloth from the man’s forehead and placed it in his hand. Antoniou dabbed it against his cheeks and neck as Laura arrived with a glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

  Antoniou took the water then several healthy gulps, color returning to his cheeks. “I-I don’t think I’ve ever done that before.” He smiled weakly. “Don’t tell my students. I’ll lose any respect I might have with them.”

  Acton chuckled, happy to see a hint of the sense of humor he knew the man possessed. “Your secret is safe with us.” He glanced over his shoulder at the knock at the door, Reading opening it and letting Leather back in. Ice was added to the drink, and a few cubes wrapped in the damp cloth, everyone backing off to give Antoniou some space and some dignity.

  Antoniou finally sighed, his old self once again. He pointed at the phone. “We have to reply.”

  Laura frowned. “Yes, but with what?”

  Acton pursed his lips, looking about the room. “The truth?”

  Antoniou leaned forward. “But if they find out I don’t have it, then they might think Juno’s of no value. They might kill her.”

  Reading nodded. “Then we have to delay them. At least until we can find out where they’re holding her.” He turned to Tommy.

  “Any luck?”

  Tommy shook his head. “No.” His eyes widened as he stared at Antoniou’s phone. “Maybe we can trace the messages!”

  Acton’s eyes narrowed. “Would they be that stupid?”

  “Maybe. We didn’t get the message until we arrived. We were at the police station for almost five hours. How did they know to wait just the right amount of time?”

  Acton bolted upright. “They know we’re here, and not with the police!”

  Reading and Leather both sprang into action, Leather checking the hallway then relocking the door, Reading looking out the windows then drawing the blinds. Laura frowned.

  “Do you think we’re in danger?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “I’ll call for help.” Leather dialed his phone and retreated to the bedroom, calling, Acton assumed, the Greek security team, reemerging moments later. “We’ll have a team here in less than fifteen minutes.”

  Acton pointed at Antoniou’s phone. “Before Tommy does anything with that phone, we need to respond before they hurt Juno again.”

  Laura shook her head. “Do we arrange an exchange?”

  Antoniou stared at her. “And when we show up with nothing? What then?”

  Acton chewed his cheek for a moment. “We cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  Reading agreed. “We need to delay the meeting. They’ll keep her alive for as long as they think you’ll give them what they want.”

  Antoniou paled slightly. “But won’t they want it right away?”

  Reading’s fingers drummed on his chin for a moment. “Tell them that it is hidden, and the place is being watched by the police. You can’t get it until they leave.”

  Antoniou nodded, picking up the phone, his fingers trembling as he operated the touchscreen. Acton held out his hand.

  “Let me.”

  Antoniou handed him the phone and Acton quickly sent the message then looked at the others. “Done. Now we wait.”

  Tommy held out his hand. “Gimme. We might not have much time.”

  46 |

  Suqut Brigade Safe House

  Athens, Greece

  A string of expletives erupted from Zaman’s mouth as he read the reply to their messages, and though blasphemous, Rafiq was willing to forgive him, as his own had been worse.

  “He’s playing us. He has to be.”

  Rafiq tugged at his beard, pacing the small room. “Is he? He says the place he’s hidden it is being watched.”

  Zaman spat. “That’s garbage. Watched by who?”

  “The police, obviously.”

  “But why would they be watching where he’s hidden it? If they know where it is, then why not just go in and get it?”

  Rafiq paused, then sat, wagging a finger. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe he’s hidden it at his home, and the police are watching
the home.”

  Zaman’s jaw dropped slowly as he leaned back in his chair. “Now that makes sense. He steals it, hides it at his house. The police have no need to search it, but after we took his wife, they’re watching it just in case we show up.”

  Rafiq stood. “Makes perfect sense to me. Do we know where he lives?”

  Zaman shook his head.

  Rafiq grabbed a pen and paper from the table, then headed for the woman’s room. He tore the rag out of her mouth. “Your home address. Now!”

  “Wh-why?”

  He smacked her across the face, hard, eliciting a gasped cry and a fresh stream of blood from her shattered nose. “No questions. The address, now.”

  She gave it to him and he wrote it down.

  “Please, what’s this all about?”

  “Your husband has something we want.”

  “What?”

  “The urn inscribed by Cylon.”

  Her eyes widened as he shoved the gag back in her mouth, ignoring her denials.

  We’ll know soon enough.

  47 |

  King George Hotel

  Athens, Greece

  As the conversation raged over Acton’s suggestion the kidnappers thought Antoniou was the thief, Mai flipped through the dozens upon dozens of photos she had taken while at the site. The entire experience had been so fascinating, she had wanted to capture every moment, every sight, so she would never forget it.

  And she hoped the images might help her piece together what had happened.

  When the attack had occurred, it was late, so most of those working there had already gone home for the day. When the shooting started, she and Tommy had been with the professors, all four of them, in the dig site with Leather and some remaining grad students. From what she could remember, and from what she could see in the photos she had been taking of the just revealed urn, there were no guards in sight, meaning the local security, and Leather’s hired security, were all outside of the massive pit that was the dig site.