The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers) by J. Robert Kennedy Read Free Book Online

friend and as he neared they could see he was
holding a nearly perfectly preserved clay pot. “What do you think?” he asked,
breathlessly. “I cleaned it exactly as you showed me.”
    Acton
eyed the pot then took the ancient artifact. As he turned it in his hands, his
eyes narrowed. “Where’d you find this?”
    “On my
morning constitutional, over the ridge, just beyond that rise.” Chaney pointed
behind the archeologists and both turned their heads to see where he was
indicating.
    Acton
turned to Laura. “Have you done any surveying over there?”
    She
shook her head. “No, the satellite scans showed this as the center of the town.
We decided to start here and work our way out. We won’t reach that area for
another year at least.”
    “And
everything we’ve found so far is Fourth Dynasty. Around forty-five hundred years
old?”
    Laura
nodded, her pony tail, tied high to keep her auburn hair out of her face and
off her neck, bouncing. “That’s right, why?”
    He
handed her the pot. “What do you make of this?”
    She
looked it over, her own eyes narrowing. “Interesting!”
    “What?
What’s so interesting?” asked Chaney, his voice sounding frustrated and excited
at the same time.
    Gunfire,
several weapons this time, erupted from behind them as the training continued,
but none of them reacted. Laura continued to examine the pot, running her
fingers over the painted symbols and figures. She looked up at Chaney.
    “This is
only two thousand years old. It can’t be part of this site, it’s far too new.”
    “Two
thousand years old is too new ?”
    She
nodded. “By a few thousand years. And these symbols…” Her voice drifted off as
her finger tapped on her lower lip, apparently becoming lost in thought.
    “What
about the symbols?”
    This
time Chaney just sounded frustrated.
    “They’re
markings indicating they were carved in honor of the death of the last
pharaoh.”
    “Who was
that?”
    “Cleopatra,”
whispered Laura, her eyes opened wide in excitement. She looked at Acton who
was as equally excited when he suddenly frowned. “Look.” He pointed at the one
broken part of the pot, near the top lip. Laura looked, as did Chaney, leaning
in to see what the professors were looking at.
    “Too
bad,” said Laura, handing the pot back to Chaney.
    “What?
What’s wrong?”
    “It was
fired in a modern kiln,” explained Acton. “It’s a replica. A very well done
one, still handcrafted, and perhaps several hundred years old, so nothing to be
thrown away, simply not what we were hoping for.”
    “Why,
what’s so important about finding something made from Cleopatra’s time.”
    “Well, archeologists
have been searching for her burial chamber for years.”
    “How’s
that possible?” asked Chaney. “They found Tut and a whole bunch of other blokes
that are a hell of a lot older than this one,” he said, pointing at the female
figure on the pot. “How could they not know where she was buried only two
thousand years ago?”
    Acton
shrugged his shoulders.
    “Nobody
knows. That’s the mystery.”
    Laura nodded
at the pot. “Why don’t you put that in the tent so we can examine it closer when
the sun is at its hottest. We’ll do our training, then go take a quick look at
the area where you found it.”
    Chaney
nodded, trotting off to the air conditioned tent, as Acton and Laura resumed
their stretching.
    “Do you
think we’ll find anything?” Acton asked.
    “I doubt
it, but he looked so crestfallen I thought I’d throw a little hope his way.”
    Acton grabbed
her by the neck and pulled her toward him, kissing the top of her head.
    “That’s
one of the many reasons I love you.”
    He
glanced over his shoulder and saw Chaney exit the tent, a huge smile on his
face.
    Sometimes
it’s the little things.
     

 
     
     
    Alexandria, Egypt
    30 BC, Seven Weeks After Cleopatra’s Death
     
    Tarik stared at the necklace shown to him by one of his shopkeepers.
It was a gorgeous piece, jade