Black Harvest

CHAPTER NINE

"You found his tomb?"

Harker put Selena's call on the speaker. Nick and Stephanie listened.

"Not his tomb. A cast taken from inside it. The tomb was only discovered last fall. The archeologist in charge sealed it and stopped excavation during the winter rains, but he's about to start up again."

"How did you find that out?"

"I had coffee with the curator of the museum. He was thrilled to have someone to talk to and very enthusiastic about the tomb. It's built into the side of a hill with several rooms. The connection to Alexander makes it a priority dig. There could be something there."

"Can you get into it?"

"I don't know. I've got some names and I've got the location. Nothing's going to happen until Monday."

"What's your plan?"

"Go out there, introduce myself, use my credentials. Butter up the chief archeologist and hint at good publicity for him. Everyone wants academic recognition. Tell him I'd appreciate a guided tour. I think he'll go for it."

"And?"

"If I see something, check it out."

Harker picked up her pen, twirled it in her fingers. Nick waited for the tapping to begin and breathed an inward sigh of relief when she set it down.

"Is anyone else showing interest?"

"Not that I've noticed." The connection hissed with atmospherics. "This place is like a ghost town. There aren't many people staying here. The ones I've seen don't strike me as unusual. A couple of businessmen from Georgia. A couple of honeymooners. Some older folks."

"What are American businessmen doing in Dion?" Nick asked. His ear began itching.

"Not Georgia like Atlanta. Georgia as in the nation. I didn't pay much attention. They were talking over lunch, something about exporting olives to Russia."

Someone knocked on her door.

"Just a minute." She called out. "Yes?"

"Room service." The voice was muffled.

Still holding the phone, she walked to the door. "Room service. I didn't order anything. Hang on."

She started to open the door. It slammed into her, knocking her back into the room. The phone flew from her hand. The two men she had seen in the restaurant came hard into the room.

Twenty years of martial arts kicked in. Master Kim had seen promise in his young student and taken her aside for special instruction. Over the years he'd taught her a more dangerous level of the art.

She'd landed on her back on the floor when the men burst in. Selena used the movement to somersault herself back and up. She stepped to the side of the man charging at her, grabbed his jacket with both hands and brushed him with her hip. His momentum sent him flying into the wall across the room. The second was on her, wrapping his arms around her. She knew better than to try and use her strength to escape. Instead, she spit in his face. He pulled back in reflex. She head butted him with everything she had. He wasn't expecting it and loosed his hold.

It was enough. She pivoted and used her left hand to grasp his right in a wrist lock and bore down. The hard lock sent an instant, overwhelming pain up his arm. It blocked thought for a critical instant, all she needed. She reached under his elbow with her other hand and levered the elbow up and in and away. It made an ugly sound like a wet branch breaking. He screamed in agony. She moved back and kicked him in the groin with her leg and heel extended, crushing his testicles. He screamed again and fell to the floor.

The other man had a gun, a big automatic. She spun with a high kick and knocked it from his hand. She followed with a strike to the solar plexus, a blow to the throat, a deadly fist up under the ribcage. He collapsed. His face went purple. He died.

The first attacker moaned in pain, clutching his groin. His right arm lay at an odd angle. Selena walked over to him. She felt cold, her mind clear and focused. He had touched her, grabbed her. He had wanted to hurt her, worse, she had no doubt. She considered the strike that would kill him. Just in time, she thought better of it. He would have answers.

She shivered. Where did this urge to kill come from? What had happened to her civilized education, her deep sense of compassion, her sense of common humanity? For an instant they'd vanished like a wisp of smoke in a harsh wind.

It was the Project. Since she'd joined the Project, things has changed. For years she'd hidden behind a comfortable veneer of academic and athletic achievement. She'd had control of her life, everything neatly organized. That was gone. Life in the Project had stripped it away.

She didn't know where this new life was taking her.

Selena bent over the sobbing man as he tried to crawl away from her. She placed her thumb on a nerve center and pressed until he was unconscious. An act of mercy, really, and now it was quiet in the room. Somewhere in the background she heard her name, a tinny voice far away.

The phone. It lay on the rug where it had fallen. She walked over, bent down and picked it up. She was breathing hard. Her forehead hurt. A trickle of blood ran from her nose. She wiped it away with her knuckle.

Nick was shouting. "Selena!"

"It's all right." She walked over to the dead man. "I guess the olive business isn't what it used to be."