Byzantine Gold (9 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Darav left camp after the evening meal. The divers relaxed outside, enjoying the mild breeze off the water. Six of the men divided themselves into two teams and played soccer. Charlotte, Atakan, Refik, and Talat lounged on blankets under a Cypress tree with the journalist Refik introduced at dinner.

“I’m going for a walk. I need to stretch my legs,” he told Refik before he left. At the same time, he noticed Atakan was unarmed.

No one sat at the entrance to the camp now. Curious tourist trespassers and any other non-authorized locals wouldn’t get far past the security fence at this time of day without being seen.

Darav walked to Ada’s. He sat at an empty table away from the noisy families eating in the restaurant and ordered a beer. After the waiter brought his drink and left, he called Omar.

Omar answered on the fourth ring.

“Diver Darav, I see you are not drowned yet.”

“Not yet. You sound in good cheer. Things are well?”

“Yes. We snuck past the Turkish patrols and into Daglica for supplies and came back loaded with food, boots, and light clothing. One of our charity organizations gave us a useful sum of money.”

Darav refrained from berating Omar. If they managed to enter Daglica, he should’ve gone the short distance more into Hakkari. In Hakkari, they had more charities who funneled the donations for the
needy
to their cause instead. Those additional funds bought explosives, and weapons, and ammo. Omar was a simpleton.

“Have you seen the stash of gold and artifacts?” Omar asked, interrupting Darav’s thoughts.

“I saw a small amount, not the pile shown in the MIAR newsletter. None of the artifacts will be excavated until the boring ground work is finished.”

“No one is suspicious of you?”

“I don’t think so. I was too careless today and must pay greater attention. The woman who is my dive partner called me Nassor several times before I responded. I’m not used to the name. I made an excuse, but I believe she thinks me slow-witted.”

It embarrassed Darav to admit Charlotte thought him less intelligent than herself. He knew she felt that from the way she spoke to him onboard the Suraya. Omar didn’t need to hear of the diving mistake he made.

“Better thought slow-witted than suspicious.”

“I was almost caught reading my notes on diving by the Ministry man, another area where I must be more cautious. He’s not the usual government man they send on these projects.”

“How do you mean?”

“He’s armed.”

“That is strange. Do you know why?”

Darav shook his head and said, “No. He watches the gate from an office during the day while the team is working. Something is going on that he and the project manager are not revealing.”

“Ask your dive partner, maybe she knows.”

“I can’t. She’s the Ministry man’s woman.”

Two couples, laughing and talking loud sat at the table next to Darav. He glanced up. A short distance away, Atakan and Charlotte were walking toward the resort. He moved his chair so his back was to them.

If the couple saw him, they’d stop to chat. He wanted as little personal contact as possible with an agent of the Ankara government. In all likelihood, Vadim served some portion of his mandatory military time in one of the southeastern provinces. Casual conversation might lead to a slip of the tongue. A wrong word, a foolish reference or comment by him that wasn’t natural to the real Jafari and Vadim would pick up on it. He’d interrogate Darav. When the answers weren’t adequate, Vadim would turn him over to MIT, the national intelligence organization. When they finished with him, he’d be convicted of terrorism and sent to prison for life.

“I have to go,” he said, in a panic, ending the call.

He dug in his pocket and pulled out change to pay for the beer. He dropped several coins on the table, more than enough to cover the cost. He left in the opposite direction from Atakan and Charlotte.

Chapter Sixteen

“Interesting,” Atakan said, as Darav went the other way.

“What?” Charlotte asked.

“Jafari,” he said with a single jerk of his chin toward Darav. “You’d think he’d stay long enough to say hello.”

“Maybe he didn’t see us.”

“He looked right at us.”

“I didn’t notice him.”

Actually, Atakan was grateful they weren’t delayed by idle talk with Jafari. Without Charlotte’s knowledge, he rented a bungalow at Ada’s for their entire stay in Salamis. The tiny, one-room cottage would please Charlotte. She had a jealous streak she didn’t bother to hide and Saska’s presence upset her. That was reason enough, but he wanted the place for the two of them. Privacy. The camp provided few places to share a private moment of intimacy. Unless, you were bold with no sense of shame, like Talat and Rachel, who braved sneaking off to remote corners of the compound.

A waiter passed by carrying a tray with bowls of fruit to replenish those on the tables. Atakan stopped him. One large container held pomegranates, a favorite of both he and Charlotte. All looked ripe.

“Hold this please,” he said and handed Charlotte the metal case with his gun inside. He wouldn’t risk leaving his weapon unattended for any length of time.

He picked through the bowl and chose the three with the most vibrant dark red skin. In his free hand, the one not encumbered by the sling, he then tested the weight of each. He selected the heaviest and paid the waiter while Charlotte placed the other two in the bowl. She exchanged the gun case for the fruit and started to sit at an empty, nearby umbrella table.

“No, no,” Atakan said. “Come.”

“Were not having drinks and the pomegranate here?”

“No.” 

He fished out the key to the same room they had before.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said and opened the door.

“Are we staying here tonight?”

“Yes.”

“I’m surprised they had a space available.”

“It’s ours for the next three months. I figured if you got laid often, you wouldn’t worry about Saska.” Atakan stepped inside and set the case down.

Charlotte closed and locked the door behind him. “Laid often and well—starting now.” Putting the pomegranate on the dresser, she tugged his shirt from his slacks.

Atakan grimaced as he removed the sling and straightened his arm out, flexing it a couple of times.

Charlotte rested her hands on his waist. Arousal spiked through him at the casual intimacy. She gave him time to work his sore arm using the repetitive moves the therapist taught him. He hated the physical therapy. His arm ached for hours afterward. But, he diligently exercised his shoulder and arm. Although he hated the recuperation process, he liked his therapist. Atakan paid for the man to come from Istanbul to Cyprus and continue working with him.

“How’s the therapy?”

“I’m happy with my progress and so is the therapist. I can forgo the sling at the end of the week.”

“Is the pain subsiding at all?”

Atakan leaned in and kissed her neck. “There’s still some pain, but that doesn’t mean you should stop undressing me.”

She worked fast, careful of his injury. Less effort was needed to get him out of his lightweight cargo pants and underwear. Without the sling to hamper him, Atakan had her clothes off much quicker.

He turned her so her back was to him. He gently removed the rubber band from her ponytail and ran his fingers through her hair. He pushed the loosened locks to one side, kissing her nape as he did. A shiver traveled the length of her spine as he drew his knuckle down to the small of her back. He bent and kissed the dimples that dotted the top of her buttocks. Her swift intake of air delighted him. Fingers tightening on her hips, cradling them, he fought the urge to take her then. To have her hold hard to the bed posts while he sank himself deep inside her like an animal in the field.

Instead, he straightened and reached for the bed. A cotton bedspread of dark blue patterned with red and white sailboats covered the queen-sized bed. Atakan peeled the spread away. He preferred making love on clean sheets. He’d seen a disturbing American television show where the crew visited different hotels. They used a black light on the comforters in the guestrooms which turned dried bodily fluids fluorescent blue or purple. Their disgusting findings leaped into his head occasionally. Today was one.

“Sit.” He patted the edge of the mattress. She did as he asked. “Now stretch out on your side like a nude in a Renaissance painting.”

“Or a harem girl?”

“Either serves my purpose.”

Charlotte lay with her head propped on her fist. She kept one leg up and bent. She held his gaze, smiling as she angled her leg just far enough to the side to give Atakan the full furry view he liked.

During their visit to Chicago the previous Christmas, she had a
Brazilian
administered upon her private area. He was appalled when she stepped from the bathroom and discarded her robe to show him. Many women denuded themselves. He knew it was a popular practice, but he never thought Charlotte would do such a thing.

“I do not like this barren landscape. Natural is good. How fast can you grow it back?”
he’d asked,
thankful his raging hard-on wasn’t affected by the unwomanish sight.

“Do you want it all back? I can have my ‘landscape’ trimmed and shaped so there’s still a narrow patch, like a band-aid size rectangle.”

“Ugh, you’d make a topiary of your...your—”

“My bush, yes.”

“No. No rectangles, no diamond patterns, no stripes, leave— ‘my bush,’
she’d supplied again
, “leave it fluffy.”

Charlotte giggled as he teased the hair she displayed so invitingly with the back of his fingers. “Come,” she said, tugging on his hands, trying to pull him on top of her.

He resisted. He had other plans starting with the pomegranate. The cottages all had tiny kitchenettes equipped with cutlery. He found a sharp knife and quartered the fruit. Its tart juice squirting as he cut. It dripped from the blade and ran over his fingers. When he finished, he brought two sections with him and lay next to her on the bed. He rubbed the wet fingertips of one hand over her parted lips, staining her mouth red.

She licked each lip slowly then said, “More.”

He plucked several of the ruby beads from the bitter membrane. One by one, he held them close to her mouth and popped them between his fingers. Again, she licked the colorful flecks from her lips.

“Eat,” he said, offering her the piece on his palm.

She dragged the quarter between her lips and then took a small bite, letting the juice trickle down to her chin. Atakan dipped his head and licked the liquid drop that formed at the corner of her lips. She took another bite, throwing her head back as he ran his tongue along the seam of her mouth. The fruits winey scent filled his nose. She tasted decadent, an exotic blend of sweet and tart.

He raised his head and shifted to lay sideways, his weight on the elbow of his uninjured side. He gathered the fleshiest arils and sprinkled them into the hollow of her throat, over her breasts, and then trailed them down to her abdomen. The rest of the section he tossed away along with the quarter she held.

He laced his fingers through hers. He started at her collarbone, his kisses turning to tiny nips that always made her crazy. She wriggled beneath him attempting to spread her legs but he trapped them between his. He sucked the seeds from the hollow of her throat. He traveled down, teasing her skin as he nibbled the seeds that nestled along the curve of her breasts. She arched and her hips rose to press hard against his when he moved to circle her nipples with his tongue.

“Atakan—“

“Shh.”

Releasing her, his hands slid to the sweep of her hips. He swirled his tongue around and inside her belly button. He brushed his lips across her abdomen, stroking her hip bones with his thumbs as he did. Her sun baked skin warmed his lips.

He shifted so his legs no longer trapped her as his moved to her thighs. She jumped and sighed when he sucked her inner thighs. He pushed her legs up, opening her most intimate place wide to him. He licked slowly, then darted his tongue into that wonderfully wet spot already slick for him.

“Atakan,” she said, in a tortured plea.

She jerked as he darted faster. She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “No more foreplay.”

He rose to his knees and slid his hands under her hips, pulling her to the edge of the bed as he moved to a standing position. He raised her legs so her calves rested on the top of his shoulders.

“Can we do this without hurting your shoulder?”

“I told you it’s getting better.” He looked down at her. “Much better.”

This was a favorite position of hers, she requested it often enough before he was shot. She said it reminded her of Roman orgy scenes in movies. He teased her again with his fingers, sliding them in and out before driving fully into her.

They went two rounds. His shoulder hurt a little after they finished gladiator sex as Charlotte referred to it. She insisted on giving his shoulder a rest and climbed on top. Either way, it was all good.

“I’m surprised the family in the next room didn’t pound on the door to complain.”

“Probably still at the beach. I saw them leave earlier when I came to rent the room,” Atakan said.

While they were busy, he couldn’t care less that the wrought iron headboard banged repeatedly against the wall. Now, even while they were simply lying together, it bumped the wall every time one of them shifted. Annoyed, he asked her to give him a hand and they dragged the bed several inches away from the wall.

They lay on the bed, quiet, sweating, and warm. The air conditioner hummed, the fan stirring the air without cooling it. Atakan gazed around at the room painted a dirty pink dreading he had to tell Charlotte the latest news on Tischenko. If he didn’t tell her, and she found out, she’d be livid. And, no doubt in his mind, she’d find out. The more a man wants to keep something from a woman the greater the odds she’ll discover the truth. She also had a right to know.

“Iskender arrives tomorrow,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Charlotte rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. “So soon? That’s great. It’ll be a relief knowing you have another body here to help.”

His chest tickled where her fingers played with the hair.

“There’s a reason for bringing him here so fast.”

Her fingers stilled. “Oh. Why?”

By her suspicious tone, he figured she guessed the answer.

“Nothing is confirmed--”

“What?”

“Our representative at the Ephesus site thought he might, I stress
might
, have spotted Tischenko on the street in Kusadasi.”

“Why didn’t he arrest him?”

“He intended to, again I stress, if it was Tischenko. He followed while he called the authorities but lost him in a row of sidewalk cafes. They were crowded with tourists inside and out. The police came fast. They searched but couldn’t locate him again.”

“He only followed him? He should’ve stopped him and taken him into custody.”

“I am armed by special permission as is Iskender when he arrives. The agent had no weapon and Tischenko always does. Our man required backup, as you call it.”

“How the hell did Tischenko get into the country?”

“
If
he’s in the area, he’s probably hiding on a boat offshore.”