The Milestone Protocol, Ernest Dempsey [100 best novels of all time txt] 📗

every waking hour. And in her sleep.

“Tara?” Alex jolted her from her wandering daydream. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I was just thinking about the explosion, the gate, all that.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know it shook you.”

“It’s okay,” she insisted. “I’m fine. I just….” She didn’t finish her thought.

“Just what?” He peered into her eyes, as if that look could pry the truth from her. He stroked her dark auburn hair gently, letting his fingers comb through the smooth locks.

She loved it when he did that. It calmed her, and she knew he knew that. “I just keep getting the feeling that something bad is coming.”

“Well, something bad already came. It’s still here.”

“I’m not talking about the virus,” she clarified. “I…It’s weird, but….” She still couldn’t get it out.

“Hey,” Alex soothed, keeping his eyes locked with hers. “It’s me. You can tell me anything.”

She took in a deep breath and sighed. It didn’t matter if she sounded crazy. Tara knew Alex wouldn’t judge her. He would listen. She needed him to listen, to hear what had been driving her crazy in the months following the incident.

“Before the explosion,” she began, then stopped abruptly as a light on her desk to the right alerted her that the elevator was descending to the basement level. Tara reached over and hit the Esc key on the keyboard and the glass case dimmed. She hurriedly tossed her jacket onto it and minimized the screen with the analysis, then stood up and walked over to the coffee pot bubbling in the corner.

“Subtle,” Alex quipped, turning his head in time to see Tommy emerge from the elevator doors beyond the glass wall.

“You could have helped me,” she insisted. She picked up a white coffee mug and filled it with the steaming liquid.

“You didn’t ask,” he offered with a smirk.

She rolled her eyes. “Part of me thinks you wanted me to get caught.”

Tommy opened the door and stepped inside.

“Maybe,” Alex admitted, then spun around to face their boss. “How’s it going, chief?”

“Uh…it’s going okay. How are you guys today?”

Tara checked her watch. “Not bad for nine thirty in the morning on a Tuesday. Nothing exciting going on here, although we did get the analysis done on that Bronze Age piece in the corner over there.” She pointed past the tables festooned with ancient artifacts ranging from clay pots and vases to eroded swords, knives, shields, helmets, and even a fifteenth-century crossbow. The ages of the various pieces spanned millennia, which was one of the reasons the climate in the lab had to be precisely maintained, right down to the steam coming out of the coffee pot. The International Archaeological Agency made that simple by storing most of the delicate items in airtight cases.

Tommy looked beyond the collection to the bronze helmet in the corner. “The one from Ireland?” he asked, following her finger to the other side of the room. “We just got that in—”

“Two days ago. I know,” Tara said. She didn’t hide the cocky sound in her voice.

“We are good, boss,” Alex reminded with a shrug and then crossed his arms in a way he hoped might have made him look like a rapper.

The gesture flew right over Tommy’s head. “Well, that’s impressive.”

Tara rolled her shoulders and took a sip of coffee.

“So, what’s going on?” Alex asked. “I thought you were supposed to be speaking in Sweden tomorrow.”

Tommy took on a grave expression. “Yes, I’m leaving here in a few minutes to head to the airport. An old friend, Magnus Sorenson, has asked me to speak at an event they’re holding to open a new wing to their historical center. You two should be the ones speaking. You did most of the work getting the artifacts ready that will be on display.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like being on stage,” Tara confessed.

“I’m not a fan of it either,” Tommy agreed. “Still, I need you guys to look into something for me, if you can.”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“A colleague…Actually,” he corrected, “a guy who doesn’t like me very much was conducting a dig in Russia. He thought he found the location of the ancient city of Sarai.”

“Home of the Khans?” Alex asked. “People have been looking for those two places a long time.”

“Yes, I know. And this guy thinks he found it.”

“Which guy?”

Tommy sighed and crossed his arms. “Dr. Kevin Clark.”

“Ooooh,” Tara said through pursed lips. “Yeah, you’re right. That guy doesn’t like you. Or any of us here at IAA, from what I understand.”

“What was it he said we do? Pseudo—”

“Archaeology, yes,” Tommy finished the thought. “He thinks we’re just treasure hunters with guns.”

Tara snorted. “Well, if the fedora fits.”

Alex laughed at her joke. Even Tommy let out a chuckle and shook his head. “Anyway,” he elongated the word to drive the conversation back on track, “I got an email from him. Said his dig site was attacked, and he feared his team was dead. Apparently, he barely made it out alive.”

“Oh, wow,” Tara mouthed. “Where is he now? Who attacked them? Terrorists?”

“The Russians?” Alex offered.

“We don’t know. In fact, I haven’t been able to confirm anything yet. What I do know is that he was heading to Bulgaria, to Plovdiv to be precise.”

“Sean was close to there, wasn’t he?”

“Not really,” Tommy said. “He was in Croatia.”

“Croatia? Why was he there?”

“He claims,” Tommy emphasized the word, “he was working with one of the local historical societies to get a new museum up and running.”

“Wasn’t he?” Tara wondered.

“Yes. He was. Two weeks ago. The museum work has been done for twelve days.”

“Soooo, what’s he doing?”

“My guess is he was working on his tan. Split isn’t super close to Bulgaria, but he said he would get there right away. I haven’t heard back from him yet.”

Alex looked concerned. “You don’t think anything happened to him, do you?”

“No. The plane landed safely; that much I know. Sean is in Plovdiv; I just don’t know where. He went dark on