The Hunt for Power

Chapter 2

With their eyes boring down on him, he added quickly, "I just wanted to stop them from being able to follow us in case they saw you, Rex. I made sure the cars were empty. No one got hurt"

"Nothing too flashy?" Ramses teased. "Zidan, there are enough madmen trying to start another war without you adding your name to the list."

Ramses was right. Everyone in Greece was still on edge following World War II and, with the pompous gesturing by Khrushchev and Eisenhower, they were afraid that war was again imminent. Greece had long been seen as the entrance to the Black Sea and, therefore, a strategic military control point. They had a long and bloody history of war, so if the Communists tried to take them by force, the Greeks would be ready.

Therefore, when several explosions occurred in town, people took notice. Luckily, Zidan's diversion had only damaged the vehicles and a mostly empty storeroom. They had timed their escapade to occur in mid-afternoon, a time when most Greeks were enjoying a nap in their cool homes to avoid the hot afternoon sun. The streets were deserted when the cars went off, but filled quickly to prevent the fire from spreading.

"Regardless of Zidan's bout of pyromania, it did the job," Rex remarked. "That place cleared out in a hurry and I got in and out without being seen. The fake mask should fool them for a few days at least. Should I ask where you got it?"

"Better not," Ramses said with a smile. "The man who made it is an artist, but would not like one of the world's preeminent art historians knowing how easy it is to make realistic copies of priceless relics. It would raise too many questions." That was another reason Rex liked to have Ramses on these assignments. He had connections that weren't always legal or ethical. But they all recognized the power of money and could be useful allies under the right circumstances.

"Well, the mission was a success and we can return the mask to the museum," Zidan said as he raised his glass. "A toast! To King Agamemnon! Yamas!"

They all drank deeply and continued to talk about the mask and the mission. Although they would laugh and boast, they all knew that if Andromache or any of the potential buyers caught them, they would have ended up in prison, or worse. Grave robbers had little conscience, especially when it came to someone tricking and robbing them. As the excitement from the day was bleeding off of him, Rex thought maybe they could delay leaving Athens until after a good night's rest. After all, he had just heard the name in passing at a random bar. Maybe the Albanians hadn't even said Schliemann. No reason to think they had connected the heist to him. Yet.

"Well fellas," Rex said as he drained the last of his glass and stood up, propping himself on his cane as he felt the wine rush to his head, "it was enjoyable, but I need sleep."

"Good night, my friend. Ramses, to bed with us too. And we need to find a place for the chickens tonight." Zidan rose and helped his little brother to his feet.

"Good night, Dr. Fletcher. Oh Rex, I almost forgot! You had a visitor tonight. Dr. Andreas Papadopoulos stopped by and said she'd see you tomorrow. Tell her I said hello. We had a wonderful conversation earlier," Ramses remarked and started ambling towards the rooms.

Rex was caught dumbstruck. The name meant nothing to him. "Who?"

Ramses stopped and looked back. "Dr. Papadopoulos. You know, your old friend from your time in Carthage."

"Ramses, I've never been to Carthage." Rex was starting to become worried.

"Really? You didn't discover Hannibal's birthplace with her? You two didn't single handedly decipher his ancient diary in the catacombs of the Bardo?" Ramses was feeling more foolish by the minute. She had seemed so pleasant and honest. Surely he couldn't have been mistaken about her intentions, could he? He thought about all those glasses of wine and felt his stomach roll over.

"No. No Papadopoulos, no Hannibal. What did she want?"

"Oh. To be honest, I'm not sure. She said she heard you were in town and just wanted to drop by to see you." Ramses saw Zidan glaring down at him. "What? She seemed like she knew Rex very well and said she would meet us here tomorrow for breakfast." He looked at Rex earnestly. "I'm sorry, but she seemed to think you invited her. I suppose we can find out what she wants then."

"Maybe. Still, I don't like the idea that she knows we're here. Get some sleep, we'll talk about it tomorrow." Rex ran his hand over his eyes. First the men at the bar and now this mysterious woman with a fake story. That was two coincidences. Two too many for my liking, he thought as he tried to clear his head.

Rex and the brothers separated and headed to their rooms. As they parted, Rex could hear Ramses ask, "Wait . . . did you say chickens? What chickens?"

His restful feeling was now broken by the mentioning of this woman. Who was she and what did she really want? Rex knew several prominent Greek archaeologists, but none by that name. And that business about Hannibal. Was it some kind of code or had Ramses just had too much to drink and was making up strange women?

With his head fuzzy from all the wine, Rex opened the door to his room and didn't see the shape sitting in the darkness until he closed the door and heard her speak.

"Hello, Dr. Fletcher. We meet at last. I've been looking forward to this."