Authors: Chris Karlsen
He kissed Charlotte on the temple and ran his fingers through the back of her hair.
“You’re very quiet,” he said to Charlotte, settling his palm on her nape.
“I’m just listening. What happens if you find he lied on his resume?”
“We’ll notify MIAR and rescind his work visa.”
“MIAR has a list of alternates. The team won’t be without a member long. There’s no shortage of qualified applicants,” Iskender added.
Charlotte pushed her chair back and stood. “Excuse me, I have to go to the ladies room.”
As she walked away, Atakan watched the strange woman out of the corner of his eye. Her eyes followed Charlotte. The man made a comment that seemed to annoy the woman again.
“Don’t turn around yet, but when you can, take a look at the couple two tables behind you,” Atakan told Iskender. “They’re weird. The woman stared at me earlier and now stares at Charlotte. I don’t like it.” He finished by telling Iskender his theory about them being libertines, which Iskender chuckled at.
“What’s so funny? Charlotte and I are a handsome couple. Why wouldn’t they want to have sex with us?”
“Your beach time today has imprinted sex on your brain. Because the woman is gaping at you doesn’t mean she wants to engage in an orgy. Such ego,” Iskender said with a shake of his head. “Can I look now?”
“Yes, she’s talking to her companion and not paying us any mind.”
Iskender moved his chair so he was at a right angle to the other table. He used the excuse of ordering another beer to take a good look over the waiter’s shoulder.
“Well?” Atakan asked.
“She’s a pretty one, the man not so much. I don’t think Charlotte will approve of getting naked with him.”
Iskender grinned at the face he got in answer. “Speaking of Charlotte, we had an unusual conversation on the way here,” he said, turning serious.
“What about?”
“She asked if I knew what a Jonah was.”
“What is it?”
“’A bringer of bad luck.’ Then she asked if I believed in the Evil Eye. I said yes. When I asked why she wanted to know, she said, ‘no reason.’”
It was a curious topic for her to bring up. Atakan thought about it but no particular reason came to mind that might move her to discuss the subject. The last time they talked about anything close was in Paris. His mother had upset her with silly talk and he’d explained the history he and Tischenko shared. “This problem with Tischenko is the result of a personal grudge.” She said she understood. He’d ask her about the Jonah comment later.
The odd duck woman paid no attention to Charlotte when she returned. The man left money on the table for the bill and they rose to leave. Atakan watched them walk down the promenade and out of sight.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Maksym helped Rana off the Zodiac onto the yacht’s stern. “Well?”
“They were at the resort called Ada’s. The man in the photos was there when Evgeniy and I arrived. The woman came a few minutes later with another man,” Rana said.
“Good,” Maksym said, and kissed her. He put his arm around her waist as they walked to the main cabin. “You acted normally, you didn’t stare or get yourself noticed, like I instructed?”
Rana dropped her purse and the brown shopping bag on a chair in the salon. “Yes.”
Maksym poured himself a glass of papaya juice as Evgeniy joined them and sat in the opposite chair.
“She is terrible at watching. You shouldn’t send her with me again,” Evgeniy said.
“Shut up. I am fine,” she insisted.
He’d just asked her and she told him she did good. Now a different tale emerged. “Quiet,” Maksym snapped and turned to Evgeniy. “Why?”
Rana sank into a corner of the sofa, away from the chair where Evgeniy sat.
“She stares like a chicken mesmerized by a straight line. Twice Vadim caught her and she had to divert her eyes.”
“So, he saw me looking at him. I doubt my attention raised his suspicions. After all, he looked at me too. Perhaps, he finds me attractive.”
How much, if any, damage had her indiscretion caused? Between the different versions told him, Maksym assumed Evgeniy’s was closer to the truth.
“I expressly told you not to draw attention to yourself.”
“Two glances.” She shrugged. “Evgeniy is making more of this than necessary,” she replied in an impatient tone. “He should stay behind. I’m fine without him and he is rude to me.”
With limited time and options, Maksym decided to stick to his original plan. He strode over to where she sat on the sofa. “I don’t care,” he told her, pointing a finger as he held the glass. “You will go together. Couples blend in better with the vacationers than a woman alone.”
She folded her arms and gave him the sulky face he hated, the tight-lipped scowl of a stubborn teenager. He turned from her and set the juice down. The quick, open-handed blow caught her off guard, his palm connecting with her whole cheek. She reeled from the force and raised her hand in front of her face, ducking her head against another strike.
“Do not test me with childish behavior. You’re to be discrete. You will not repeat the mistake Evgeniy speaks of, or I will put you on the next plane to Kusadasi.”
Rana hung her head and nodded. A fiery palm print covered one side of her face.
“Do you want us to try and obtain, subtly, a photo of the second man?” Evgeniy asked.
“No. I am only interested in Vadim and his woman. Go tomorrow at the same time. If they leave, try to follow. Let’s see where else they go other than the camp and Ada’s.”
Rana dabbed at tears with a tissue and whimpered quietly.
“Leave. Go to the cabin where I don’t have to hear your silly sniffles,” Maksym told her.
She grabbed her purse and hurriedly left.
“You look worse by the day,” Evgeniy said when she’d gone.
“Time is short. I must act soon. Ada’s is not a suitable location. I need to catch them alone.”
“What if you can’t get to both of them?”
“I’ll be disappointed but as long as I can put a bullet in Vadim’s heart, I’ll die happy.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“But why? I’ve made them already,” Omar asked, in a demanding tone Darav disliked.
“We don’t need the bombs. I rented a car and drove the distance to the military compound. I believe we can take what we want from here and reach the escape boat before any aid from the base arrives.”
“You would waste them when we could inflict so much damage on one of their army bases? This is foolish.”
“It is foolish to do what is not necessary. I watched. Watchtowers line the walls. Plus, they run regular patrols in the immediate area. Although, I didn’t see any planes, they may run aerial patrols too. If we are caught, and I see now that is a distinct possibility, our plan is ruined.”
Omar’s silence on the other end was an indication of his disapproval. Darav steered the conversation away from the sore issue. Nothing he could say would placate Omar. Better to move onto another topic before the discussion turned into an ugly verbal battle, Darav wished to avoid.
“I’ve found a buyer for the relics...a rich Russian,” Darav said.
“You have spoken to this Russian?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know to trust him? How do you know he doesn’t plan to meet with us, take what we have by force and kill us?”
“He won’t.”
“Who is he?”
“What does it matter?”
“I am the leader if something happens to you. I should know who he is, who I am to contact.”
“Nothing will happen to me.”
“Your secretiveness offends me. I have people loyal to me here, as many as you. Perhaps, they will be as offended as I. Perhaps, they will refuse to assist you in this plan.”
Omar was a stupid, foolish man, but stupid men are capable of creating big problems. He also had a persuasive tongue. A fool with an artful argument is a dangerous combination. Distance weakened Darav’s influence over the group, even those who were allegedly loyal to him. Omar had the advantage of presence.
Darav hesitated then finally said, “Vasiliy Chernikovich.”
“You are certain he is not Russian mafia?”
“I checked and no, he is not. He’s a powerful industrialist with influential friends in the parliament. He does not need to be part of the mafia.”
“Is there no one else? Wealthy Russians often have body guards...tough men who do as they are commanded. I do not trust him not to steal our goods.”
Darav said nothing and let his imagination run wild.
“By your silence, I can tell you suspect maybe I’m right.”
“No. I was quietly thinking of how I want to kill you when this is over,” Darav replied.
There was no humor in Omar’s laughing response to Darav’s hollow threat. The odds of him succeeding in killing Omar without repercussions were slim and Omar knew it. If he murdered him without legitimate cause, without the approval of the rest, he’d be signing his own death warrant. An ally of Omar’s would put a knife in his back or a bullet in his head.
Darav faked a soft laugh. “I’m making light with you. Trust me, Chernikovich is a buyer, not a threat.”
“You test my patience too, Darav. Know this: if your plan fails and we survive, I will challenge your leadership.”
At that moment, Darav wondered if there was a way for Omar to wind up dead during their escape.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The water was as calm below as it was on the surface. Charlotte stood at the base of the guideline, taking a moment to enjoy the quiet sea, warm and crystal clear. She felt a little mythical, like she’d been given a privilege granted by Neptune himself to stand in the God’s private aquarium.
“Look,” she told Nassor, speaking to him on the AGA’s voice system when he joined her. “A Thalassoma Pavo, T-Pavo for short. Isn’t he striking?” She pointed to the brightly-colored fish with a pink and blue face and yellow-green body. A smaller version of the fish, in solid neon green, shot past. “That one is a juvenile. The other is a male. The mother is probably close.”
They continued on to the cargo hold. Heavy dredge work earlier in the week revealed a heavily damaged ebony chest about the size of a bread box. Talat led the team of men who cleared the immediate area of sand, silt, and other sea debris. He’d reported the chest contained valuable relics, jewelry and religious items. Charlotte and Nassor were the first team to recover the initial contents.
When they reached the hold, she took photos before they began tagging and removal. Because of the nature of the artifacts and their high value, after tagging, each piece would be loaded into special plastic boxes. The relics would be enclosed in the boxes and sent immediately to the surface. A waiting team on the Suraya would take the pieces to the desalination tanks, following a brief inspection.
She moved some broken deck slats that covered a portion of the chest. Under the slats and on top of the layer of gold jewelry, a small octopus had made a nest of various shells and shards of brown, green, and clear glass. The glass was contemporary and probably gathered from beer bottles thrown from boats and broken on the seabed.
“You can’t stay here,” Charlotte explained to the octopus as she shooed it away from her glittery home.
The creature clearly didn’t trust Charlotte not to steal some of her precious treasure. She hovered within arm’s-length of the divers, tentacles fluttering in agitation.
“Go away, little one. You can have your shells and beer glass. We’ll leave those but not the lovely treasure beneath.”
Charlotte stacked the glass and shells to one side. The octopus could easily create a new home from the tidy pile.
The first relic Charlotte took a photo of was a Byzantine gold necklace with intricate, lace-like cutwork known as
opus interrasile.
The delicate design technique started in the late Roman Period. Its popularity continued into the Byzantine Period.
She stretched the piece across the palms of her hands, admiring its beauty. The necklace was made of three rows of trapezoid sections hinged together with gemstone stations. Attached to the last long row were two short gold chains. Three thumb-sized, lozenge-shaped cabochons of amethyst hung from the first gold chain. A cabochon pendant of amethyst twice the size of the other three hung from the second chain.
Charlotte gave the necklace to Nassor so he could tag it and then put it in the secure box. As soon as Nassor took the necklace from her, the octopus swooped down and snatched it from his fingers. Holding tight with two tentacles, the animal propelled away from Nassor, whirled and attempted to escape.
Nassor batted at the thief, striking it once before Charlotte interceded.
“Don’t hit Sparkle,” she said and caught the creature in her gloved hand. Sparkle had made the tactical mistake of returning
her
property to
her
treasure nest where Charlotte worked.
“You named this thing?” Nassor asked in a distasteful tone.
“Yes, I like her. She’s a small bother, but cute.”
After a short, give and take struggle, Charlotte pried Sparkle’s suction cups off the necklace and handed it over to Nassor.
“We should take her topside with us for dinner.”
“We’ll do no such thing.” She returned to the chest under the watchful eye of Sparkle.
“Why Sparkle?” Nassor tagged the necklace, put it in the box and tugged on the line. The deck team would pull the box up right away.