Byzantine Gold (15 page)

“Why?” she asked, curiosity piqued as to what reason he’d give.

There was a long pause before he answered, “Seems a sexier theory than explaining away the mess as the usual goods found on a warship for the Empire.”

Not a reason she’d have associated with Nassor. To her, nothing about him exuded sex or lusty desires. Everyone on the team cracked off-color jokes or remarks at times—everyone except him. And when they did, he never laughed. Maybe he didn’t understand sarcasm or maybe he was one of those people with no sense of humor. She’d put money on the last.

“American movies show sexy pirates, when they’re Caribbean or English. The movies with Barbary Coast pirates are always shown as dirty savages,” he added with a touch of heat in his tone.

Strange statement. She tried to remember a movie with Barbary Coast pirates and couldn’t.

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Johnny Depp can’t do a North African accent,” she said flippantly blowing off the weird question.

“Who?”

“Johnny Depp. You know the star of
Pirates of the
Caribbean
.

Darav’s blank expression remained.

“Never mind. Whatever region they originate from, a pirate is a pirate. You want bragging rights for gangs of murderers, rapists, and thieves?”

“For good or bad, we are what we are. Cultural pride must prevail,” he said with a little more heat.

“If I understand you, you don’t care how these criminals are presented, as long as all their cultural groups are shown equally good or equally bad?”

He turned to her with anger in his eyes. “Yes, it is an insult and unfair to show one group in a constant negative light and not the others.” 

“I applaud your passion, but this is all academic. We don’t know the purpose of the ship yet.”

“You’re right, of course,” he said in a calmer voice.

He swam away and returned to bagging shards.

Charlotte continued to collect and bag, but her mind was on Nassor. His extraordinary resentment of the popularity, romanticizing to some extent, of western pirates over the Arab ones stumped her. It’s the movies. Who gives a fig how they’re portrayed? She reassessed him again. 

Archaeologists from various organizations freely discuss the politics of artifacts among themselves and with media outlets. The acquisition, retention, sale, and exhibition was a source of fiery debate. On occasion, the MIAR team talked about the topic too, but it never turned angry or unpleasant. Their international team avoided any criticism regarding the policies of individual governments.

His strong feelings had nothing to do with the men who sailed this specific ship or the artifacts as a cultural heritage issue. They were broader based and definitely geo-political. Charlotte thought it resulted from the fact he was Egyptian. His pride was understandable. Egypt’s achievements and powerful influence was felt across the ancient world. For the sake of team camaraderie and peace, she hoped he kept his attitude to himself.

Another troubling possibility entered her mind. Although unlikely, it had to be considered. What if his passionate view wasn’t based on nationalist or Arab superiority? What if it was religion based? Was he a radical, a fervent Islamist?

Few of the team held deep religious beliefs. They favored facts obtained from scientific sources or historical record. They placed their faith in what they could see and touch and smell and not in the unpredictable nature of invisible deities. That said, Derek had a lucky coin he rubbed before each dive. Rachel wore a St. Christopher’s necklace. Atakan vehemently denied he was superstitious, but had a nazar boncugu--protection against the evil eye, attached to his key ring. She smiled to herself and kissed him when he attached the blue-glass bead to her key chain too.

She glanced over at Nassor. No one knew his beliefs. If he held radical beliefs, he’d see the team as Infidels. Then, why work with them? She dismissed the idea. The man was an odd duck, true. Pro-Jihadist? No.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Charlotte sat in the shade to write. She’d brought a Bounty Bar and tested the softness with her thumb and forefinger. It felt solid so she put it aside to eat when she was done. By the time she finished, the bar was a tad squishy to the touch.

“Read this,” she told Atakan.

They were alone under the tree while the team members in camp were busy elsewhere. Sliding over on the bench, she peeled the wrapper from the candy bar. Most of the outer layer had melted, but she didn’t care. The form didn’t matter only the rich taste of coconut and chocolate together. She ran a finger across the smeared chocolate on the paper, wasting none of the precious coating before devouring the rest.

Atakan took her spot in front of the laptop but he wasn’t looking at the screen. His gaze followed the candy action, turning heated as she lifted her finger to her lips and sucked the chocolate off.

“You’re doing that to make me crazy,” he said.

“No. If I wanted to make you crazy, I’d do this.” She snagged his index finger and brought it to her mouth. She circled the tip with her tongue. Then drawing the tip in, she sucked in a slow and rhythmic manner, varying the strength.

She pulled the tip from her mouth but still held onto his finger. He offered no resistance when she used it to swipe more of the chocolate from the wrapper which she licked off. She moved to his middle finger and licked its length top-to-bottom like she would a melting ice cream cone. His breath quickened as she slid her other hand up his chest. Enjoying herself, she teased the wet trail left on his finger with her warm breath and then gnawed the meaty base lightly between her teeth and up to the knuckle. When she peered up, his pupils were wide, his dark brown eyes looked black.

When she released the trapped finger, he stared like a panther about to pounce. She’d tested his control. Other than a few stolen kisses, they hadn’t shared an intimate encounter for weeks. He didn’t move or speak for a long moment.

“Wicked woman,” he said at last. “Later, you will see two can play this game.”

“What a delicious threat.”

“I don’t threaten,” he warned and turned to read her document.

“Well?” she asked when he was done.

“Are you keeping a diary?”

“No, a journal.”

She handed him the letter she’d received from the university in Istanbul where she applied to teach archaeology in the off-season.

“They rejected me,” she said. “Not because I wasn’t qualified. They liked my curriculum vitae but they want published professors.”

Atakan opened the letter and skimmed the few paragraphs. “I see.” He folded the letter and handed it back. “I gather from this journal, you plan to write an article. You should get Saska to help you.”

Charlotte coughed, choking on the bite of candy she swallowed the wrong way. “I don’t need Saska’s help,” she managed after washing the bite down with a swig of water.

Brows furrowed, he gave her a puzzled look as though declining to seek Saska’s advice was ridiculous. “Why not? I’ve read her articles. She’s an excellent journalist. I’m certain she’d be happy to offer you suggestions.”

“I don’t need her help. I know how to write a paper. Besides, I’m not submitting to a magazine. This is for industry journals, to be read within the archaeological community.”

“She—”

“I said no. Jeez, you are so thick sometimes,” Charlotte said, wiping her sticky fingers with a moist towelette.

“I don’t understand.”

“Forget Saska. As a theoretical article, what’s your opinion?”

“We don’t have enough to support the pirate angle yet, not to the extent of presenting it as a valid hypothesis. We might find contradictory proof.”

“I realize its only speculation right now and one of several possibilities.”

“What happens if you finish the paper and the idea is proven wrong?”

“Then, I start over and write a different paper.”

Atakan hit
save
, closed the file and her laptop.

“I thought you were happy working at the lab. You like the staff. Why the sudden desire to teach?” he asked.

Charlotte felt a twinge of guilt when she’d accepted the job at MIAR’s conservation lab in Istanbul. Last year, Jeff, an old crush of hers and Nick’s best friend, asked if she’d consider moving back home to Chicago. He declared his love for her and suggested she take a similar job in one of the city’s colleges.

The idea of being cooped up in a class or lab didn’t appeal to her. Although, she missed her family and friends, including Jeff, she didn’t want to leave. Worse, she had the painful task of telling Jeff she loved him but wasn’t
in love
with him. Within months, she’d made a liar of herself and took the MIAR lab position.

“I like the work better than I expected. I’d prefer to teach though.”

She didn’t have Atakan’s confidence in a renewed visa approval. After the wreck project, she had a short window of time to obtain permission to legally stay in Turkey.

“The lab job isn’t unique enough to warrant an extended work visa. At any time, Ankara can tell them to hire a Turkish citizen. The university is permitted to employ foreign teachers for unlimited terms.”

“You worry too much.”

“I worry with cause. I sent my paperwork to Ankara in the spring. If everything was in good order, why haven’t I heard?”

“Is there a government agency anywhere that moves at other than glacial speed? You know the expression, ‘Byzantine Rules.’ It’s Turkey, the origin of all things Byzantine.” He grinned and spread his hands wide, perversely proud they’d given name to a convoluted and confusing system.

“Forego your concern, there’s a sure solution,” he said.

Charlotte closed her eyes, counted to ten, and then fixed on him with an icy stare. “Atakan, if you’re going to offer up another of your
uniquely
romantic-Byzantine marriage proposals-don’t. I swear to God, I will sock you where you sit.”

Chapter Thirty

“Hi Case. How you doin? Everything okay?”

“So far, so good,” Charlotte said, surprised Nick picked up on the first ring. Usually, he waited to see the caller ID readout first.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound it. You were sitting by the phone for a reason. Talk to me.”

“It’s nothing. I’m riding a beef. I was expecting a call from IAD.”

There wasn’t much time until her next dive. Nick didn’t get many complaints against him. The worry in his voice regarding this one concerned her. She put the reason for her call aside.

“What happened?”

“I knocked the guy next door on his ass.”

On his last visit, Nick told her and Atakan about the man. His neighbor was a cranky toad who bullied the mousy divorcee who lived on the other side of his house. Nick had jogged by her house after a run. The woman was taking down the bird feeders from her porch. Strange for her. She kept them filled year round, even cleaning the snow away daily in the winter. Curious, he stopped and asked why. She started to cry and said the man yelled at her and demanded she remove the feeders. He didn’t like the many birds they drew, complaining they were dirty and shit on his flowers.

Nick hung them back up. When she protested, he reassured her.
If he says anything to you, tell him they’re staying, and if he doesn’t like it, come and talk to me.

In Charlotte’s opinion, whatever the jerk did to make Nick sock him was deserved. “Go on.”

“The douche bag neighbor got nasty with the woman next door again. She did as I said and told him to talk to me. He showed up on my doorstep last week. He started giving me shit and then made the mistake of poking me in the chest with his finger.”

“And you---poked him in the nose. Let me guess, rather more enthusiastically than he poked you.”

“Yeah, let’s go with that.”

Charlotte chuckled. “Sorry for laughing.”

Nick laughed with her. “It was kind of funny watching his blubber butt rolling around on my porch holding his nose.”

“Seriously, how much trouble are you in?”

“Not too bad. The State’s Attorney ruled the incident ‘mutual combat’ and declined to file charges against either of us. I expect I’ll pull a thirty day suspension from the department, no big thing. 

“What about you? Is this just a social call or do you need something?”

“I have the IP addresses Tischenko used for your techie friend to research.”

“I thought you’d get them to me sooner.” 

“I’m sorry. I sat on the information trying to decide if I wanted to do this on the QT. Can he still do it?”

“Sure, although by now Atakan and the Ministry have the results. Why not ask him what they found?”

“I did, but Atakan avoided a direct answer. I’m sure eventually he’ll tell me. In the meantime, I’d like a second source checking.”

“Understood,” Nick said. “Case, if Tischenko’s there, the information might be too old to be useful. The time lag gives him a big advantage.”

“I know. That’s what I’m most afraid of.”