here.”
“He knows a lot more than he’s letting on,” Tyler said, coming to join them. “When he’s not out to save the world, Drake’s a rather noted archaeologist.”
“Tyler, as usual, exaggerates,” he said.
“So what’s with the stone over there?” Tyler asked, as Madeline tried to place this newest information in context with her earlier impressions of Drake Flynn.
Drake moved his gaze to a tilting table of rock near the steps leading to the temple. “Most likely a sacrificial altar of some kind.”
“Maybe it’s just as well we don’t know the details.” Nash frowned as he joined them. “Sounds like a bloodthirsty lot.”
“And a long dead one,” Avery said, bringing theconversation back to the task at hand. “What’s more important now is the fact that this place is deserted.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe I was right and di Silva’s been playing us and the weapons have been moved.”
“No,” Madeline insisted. “They’re here. I’d know if they’d been moved.”
“For a mistress, you seem to have been privy to some pretty important information,” Drake commented, his gaze dismissive.
“I told you I made it my business to keep my ear to the ground,” she spat out, anger threatening her composure. Forcing herself to breathe, she turned to Avery. “The weapons are here. I swear it.”
“Well, the only way to be certain,” Nash said, cutting through the building tension, “is to check it out.”
With a grunt and a nod, Drake agreed, moving up the steps. Madeline clenched her fists and then followed. Tyler and Nash followed behind her as they made their way to the top, Avery staying behind to watch the clearing. Inside the temple, they were faced with more petroglyphs and a crumbling interior. Fallen stones and broken statuary littered the floor.
“Avery was right.” Tyler frowned as she shone her flashlight around the room. “There’s nothing here.”
“There’s a hell of a lot here,” Drake whispered, lost in his reverie again as he reached down to retrieve a small earthenware pot with tripod legs. “Just not the weapons.”
“There’s a doorway leading to another room behind there,” Madeline said, aiming her flashlight at a half-tumbled-down wall. “The stash is inside.”
She watched as Drake reluctantly set the pot down and then the two of them followed Tyler and Nash aroundthe fallen wall. In front of them a doorway opened into a shadow-filled room, the carved lintel seeming ornate after the simplicity of the anteroom.
“Maybe you should go first,” Tyler whispered to Drake, her voice tinged with reverence. “I feel like we’re going somewhere we shouldn’t.”
“Whatever magic this place held, it’s long gone,” Drake said, sweeping across the room with his flashlight. Crates were stacked five deep, reaching almost to the ceiling, each stamped with the language of its original owner—Russian, English, Chinese.
Tyler pried open one of the closest crates, revealing a stack of machine guns nestled against packing material. A second crate revealed explosives—grenades and other incendiary devices—this one from the ex–Soviet Union.
“Jesus,” Nash whispered, pulling out a digital camera, “there’s enough here to fight a fucking war.”
“I had no idea,” Madeline breathed. “I’ve never actually been in here.”
“Then how the hell did you know this was here?” Drake asked.
“I saw the boxes being carried in.” She shrugged. “I guess they didn’t think I knew what was inside.” A blatant lie. Without the information she’d stolen, Ortiz wouldn’t have been able to acquire half of the munitions here.
Drake eyed her for a moment, his gaze speculative, but before he could question her, Avery’s voice crackled in her ear.
“Just checking in. You guys all right?”
“Yeah.” Drake nodded, turning away from her to talk with his boss. “How about you? Any sign of intruders?”
“It’s still quiet,” Avery
“He knows a lot more than he’s letting on,” Tyler said, coming to join them. “When he’s not out to save the world, Drake’s a rather noted archaeologist.”
“Tyler, as usual, exaggerates,” he said.
“So what’s with the stone over there?” Tyler asked, as Madeline tried to place this newest information in context with her earlier impressions of Drake Flynn.
Drake moved his gaze to a tilting table of rock near the steps leading to the temple. “Most likely a sacrificial altar of some kind.”
“Maybe it’s just as well we don’t know the details.” Nash frowned as he joined them. “Sounds like a bloodthirsty lot.”
“And a long dead one,” Avery said, bringing theconversation back to the task at hand. “What’s more important now is the fact that this place is deserted.” His eyes narrowed. “Maybe I was right and di Silva’s been playing us and the weapons have been moved.”
“No,” Madeline insisted. “They’re here. I’d know if they’d been moved.”
“For a mistress, you seem to have been privy to some pretty important information,” Drake commented, his gaze dismissive.
“I told you I made it my business to keep my ear to the ground,” she spat out, anger threatening her composure. Forcing herself to breathe, she turned to Avery. “The weapons are here. I swear it.”
“Well, the only way to be certain,” Nash said, cutting through the building tension, “is to check it out.”
With a grunt and a nod, Drake agreed, moving up the steps. Madeline clenched her fists and then followed. Tyler and Nash followed behind her as they made their way to the top, Avery staying behind to watch the clearing. Inside the temple, they were faced with more petroglyphs and a crumbling interior. Fallen stones and broken statuary littered the floor.
“Avery was right.” Tyler frowned as she shone her flashlight around the room. “There’s nothing here.”
“There’s a hell of a lot here,” Drake whispered, lost in his reverie again as he reached down to retrieve a small earthenware pot with tripod legs. “Just not the weapons.”
“There’s a doorway leading to another room behind there,” Madeline said, aiming her flashlight at a half-tumbled-down wall. “The stash is inside.”
She watched as Drake reluctantly set the pot down and then the two of them followed Tyler and Nash aroundthe fallen wall. In front of them a doorway opened into a shadow-filled room, the carved lintel seeming ornate after the simplicity of the anteroom.
“Maybe you should go first,” Tyler whispered to Drake, her voice tinged with reverence. “I feel like we’re going somewhere we shouldn’t.”
“Whatever magic this place held, it’s long gone,” Drake said, sweeping across the room with his flashlight. Crates were stacked five deep, reaching almost to the ceiling, each stamped with the language of its original owner—Russian, English, Chinese.
Tyler pried open one of the closest crates, revealing a stack of machine guns nestled against packing material. A second crate revealed explosives—grenades and other incendiary devices—this one from the ex–Soviet Union.
“Jesus,” Nash whispered, pulling out a digital camera, “there’s enough here to fight a fucking war.”
“I had no idea,” Madeline breathed. “I’ve never actually been in here.”
“Then how the hell did you know this was here?” Drake asked.
“I saw the boxes being carried in.” She shrugged. “I guess they didn’t think I knew what was inside.” A blatant lie. Without the information she’d stolen, Ortiz wouldn’t have been able to acquire half of the munitions here.
Drake eyed her for a moment, his gaze speculative, but before he could question her, Avery’s voice crackled in her ear.
“Just checking in. You guys all right?”
“Yeah.” Drake nodded, turning away from her to talk with his boss. “How about you? Any sign of intruders?”
“It’s still quiet,” Avery
Similar Books
