Read Online Byzantine Gold by Chris Karlsen - Free Book Online Page A

personal computers, don’t you?” She pictured a techno geek, sitting in a secret, concrete room in the basement of a government building. A guy recruited from MIT or Cal Tech, in a T-shirt with Mr. Spock silk-screened on the front with one of Spock’s Zen-like quotes. She smiled to herself at branding him a techno geek. Nick referred to archaeologists as science geeks perversely fascinated by crap from some ancient granny’s attic.
    “Let’s leave it at I have a friend of a friend.”
    “Okay, I’ll try.”
    “My offer still stands. If you think it’ll help, I’ll take time off and hook-up with you guys.”
    “Thanks anyway, I ran your offer by Atakan and although he appreciated it, he said no. Besides, he needs extra firepower rather than extra muscle and you can’t bring your gun.”
    “Casey, Casey, Casey, my naïve little sister,” he said in his best big brother voice. “There’s always a way to get guns and anything else illegal into a country.”
    “Didn’t need to hear that, Nick.”

Chapter Eleven

    Camp construction went the same as the season before. The kitchen and conservation lab were put up first. They contained the most important generators. Raw wood walls and grass mat roofs were the basic framework for most structures. Charlotte and Rachel instructed the women on how to fashion the mats for easy attachment to ceiling beams. Atakan’s limited mobility kept him from the major construction work. He fired the generators and handled the electrical lines to them for kitchen appliances and the lab’s desalination tanks. Talat saw to the perimeter fence while Refik found a secure mooring for the MIAR research ship, the Suraya.
    The conservation lab and the area for sorting and labeling broken pottery were large canvas tents with metal support beams. Nassor declined instructions, stating he was familiar with their assembly. He took the lead guiding the Brits, inspecting their work along the way, as the tents went up fast. He insisted any imperfections be redone. All the men worked shirtless in the hot sun. Derek, chest glistening, sweat running down his neck and off the tip of his nose, objected to redoing a connection. Nassor held his ground, his temper flared briefly and his voice rose, practically biting off Derek’s head when he argued. He glanced over and saw Charlotte and Rachel listening and he calmed. He patiently explained the potential problem if a correction wasn’t made. Derek’s shoulders sagged in frustration, but he nodded he understood. He wiped his face with a towel he’d tucked in the waistband of his swim trunks and did as Nassor said.
    Charlotte poked Rachel in the ribs. “Our quiet man has a bark.”
    “It seems he knows what he’s doing though.”
    “Maybe he’s part Bedouin.”
    By late afternoon all the buildings and outdoor work stations were finished.
    Everyone flopped out on the ground in whatever shade they could find and eagerly awaited the arrival of the camp cook. At the first sight of the cook’s mini-truck, the group descended on the kitchen. They dug into the poor cook’s bags, passing around bottles of beer and Coke as soon as she set them down. Charlotte and Atakan were no exceptions. He grabbed a beer and she a Coke.
    Charlotte jogged into the women’s quarters and right out again, holding two Bounty Bars.
    “I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” she said, and handed one to Atakan and unwrapped the other for herself. They sat at a covered picnic table away from the buildings where the warm sea breeze blew steady.  
    “The cook didn’t buy these.” Atakan tore his open with his teeth.
    “I stocked up at the resort.”
    “Meaning you bought them out.”
    “I’m saving the teeth of the children there from the misery of cavities.”
    “A noble gesture.”
    Refik came from the kitchen, clipboard under his arm, munching on a handful of dates. Between bites, he told the group to gather around the table where Charlotte and Atakan sat.