Uncharted Page 3

  “Quit staring at me and tell me what the hell is going on,” Chase said, not moving from her position. “I got here first. I’m halfway through the scanning, and I’ve just started the photographs. I’m not taking down my equipment for anyone. Especially not you.”

  Rayne couldn’t blame Chase for her defensiveness. She hadn’t had a win in their last four unofficial competitions. It’d been pretty even up to then, but Rayne saw the need for some extra help and had the means to employ it. Subsequently, she found Ginn and Tonyck. With the extra help, the rivalry had skewed in Rayne’s favor, and Chase’s previously playful demeanor took a decided turn to the persistently disgruntled.

  “Not even if ISIS is about to descend on us?”

  Chase tilted her head and put her hands on her hips. “What did you and your goons do?”

  Tonyck looked up. “You should be really careful about how you refer to the people who are gonna save your ass, Stinsen.”

  Chase straightened and made herself a little taller. If it weren’t for the fact that they were all in danger of losing their lives, Rayne would have been enjoying the butch cockfight.

  “As far as I was aware, I didn’t need my ass saving,” Chase said toward Tonyck before turning back to Rayne. “I managed to get down here without alerting anyone, and I was going to get out exactly the same way. Just me, my equipment, and my data. So I’ll ask again. What did you and your goons do?”

  Tonyck began to rise from her knees, but Rayne waved her down. Chase had every right to be angry and suspicious. Rayne pulled her ponytail tighter and sighed. “We believe we may have blown our cover in the village.”

  “We believe we may have blown our cover?” Chase placed her hands on the tomb and leaned toward Rayne. “This isn’t a pirate wreck in the Florida Keys, Marcellus. We’re in the middle of a war-torn country, and there are people out there who’d happily blow our heads off…after they’ve dragged our bodies through the streets on live TV. Are we in danger or not?”

  Rayne shook her head; would Chase ever let Florida go? She heard Ginn coming down the steps behind her and saw a flash of relief on Tonyck’s face. “We are. But we have a plan.”

  Chase threw up her hands. “Great. That’s awesome. You and the army twins have a plan. I feel so much safer now. Just how long have we got before a troop of heavily armed fanatics come tearing down those steps and blast us all to pieces?”

  “No one’s blasting us to pieces on my watch, Stinsen,” Ginn said as she joined her sister building the rope rig. “Move your shit and let us do our job.”

  Chase was silent for a moment. Rayne could almost see the cogs turning. Maybe she’d considered having a go at Tonyck, but now that there were two of them, she had no chance. Still, it seemed like Chase’s ego was having a hard time backing down.

  “Let me help.” Rayne moved toward the laser scanner and switched it off. Chase looked at her as if she were about to stop her but didn’t.

  “FUCK!” Chase turned away, smashed her fists on the wall, and hung her head.

  G&T raised their eyebrows, shook their heads dismissively, and returned to their work. This wasn’t something they could possibly understand. All they comprehended was the need to work as fast as they could to get everyone out alive. Rayne hesitated, a novel and undesirable response she was unfamiliar with. Should she comfort Chase or gently rib her, as had become Rayne’s way of communicating with her? This was Chase’s Holy Grail, her passion. It wasn’t just a commission or a client. It went far beyond that, and though Rayne had no such attachments to any historical period, or anything for that matter, she empathized with Chase. Rayne had read Chase’s papers on the Warrior Queen and the subtext was clear: Zenobia meant far more to Chase than just another archeological find. She seemed to have made some deep, meaningful connection with the long-dead ruler, and to Chase, it must have felt like Rayne had strolled in and ruined everything she’d worked toward.

  Rayne measured her approach to Chase. She reached for her shoulder but pulled back before she made contact. Given the situation, Chase could be forgiven if she turned around and whacked Rayne in the face. “We don’t have much time, Chase. If you don’t want to leave your equipment behind, we need to pack it up.”

  Chase swung around to face Rayne, and her contempt was as clear as Crater Lake.

  “You think I care about the equipment?” She took a step closer to Rayne. “I can buy new equipment. I can’t buy the chance to scan this tomb again.” She poked Rayne in the chest. “You’ve seen to that. ISIS will descend on this place and destroy every last piece of history buried here.”

  Rayne ignored the aggressive physical contact and motioned to the twins, who now had their rig almost ready. “We’re not leaving the sarcophagus here, Chase. It’s coming with us.”

  Chase furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about? There’s no way you can get her out of here.”

  Rayne chose to overlook the reference to Zenobia’s actual physical presence, given there’d be nothing left of her but bones, and that was if they hadn’t cremated her. “Trust me, I’m making it happen.”

  Chase scoffed. “Like I could ever trust you again.”

  She pushed past Rayne and began to quickly disassemble her apparatus, tossing the aluminum frame into a canvas pack. Tonyck stood and came around to the head of the tomb. She lifted it clean off the floor while Ginn pushed the inflatable net bag over the edge and into the middle. Tonyck released the tomb, switched to the opposite end, and Ginn pulled the bag to encase the tomb entirely.

  “What are they doing?” Chase had cleared her laser scanner and moved on to her camera and tripod.

  “Protecting the tomb for the trip.”

  “Of course they are.” Chase strapped her tripod to the side of her pack and looked completely unconvinced.

  Aware she was getting nowhere with Chase and even more aware that she didn’t want to waste any time, Rayne shrugged and picked up the end of the netting. She closed the loop, unclipped the safety notch, and pulled the release wire. All the tiny pockets of foam within the net began to expand until the tomb was no longer visible. Rayne took a sideways glance at Chase and smiled when she saw that Chase looked suitably impressed with the ridiculously expensive, glorified inflatable bag. Rayne stepped back while G&T wrapped the rope rig around the casket and tightened it off. Tonyck unclipped the carabiner from her utility belt and refastened it to the one at the head of the tomb.

  Ginn looked back to Rayne. “Good to go, lady boss. I’ll send the signal to Mac when I’m topside,” she said and jogged back up the steps.

  Moments later, the chamber shuddered with the blast of explosives at the surface. Chase jumped but tried to cover it up by running her hand through her hair and affecting a look of nonchalance. Tonyck shook her head but said nothing. The cable on the tomb tautened, and it began a slow ascent up the steps with Tonyck guiding it.

  “Ready?” Rayne asked. Chase nodded, unusually silent. “Do you want some help with your pack?”

  Chase muttered something under her breath and looked mortally offended. “I’ve got it.”

  Rayne suppressed a smile. It was almost too easy to tease a butch, but as femme as she was, Rayne could handle her share of any workload. She turned to follow Tonyck. “Then let’s get out of here.” The casket’s progress was pretty slow, necessitating something short of a turtle crawl behind it. Rayne milked it a little, exaggerating her walk in case Chase was checking out her ass. She suspected Chase was probably far more concerned with a potential gunfight once they were out of the chamber, which was also what Rayne should be troubled by. But she had faith in the twins. They’d never failed her yet, and despite their initial reluctance to continue with the mission, their energy had settled, and they seemed assured everything would turn out okay.

  “When did you start packing?”

  Rayne resisted a sexual riposte and tapped the butt of her pistol. “Like you said, this isn’t the Florida Keys.”

  “Are you any good?”r />
  Chase sounded either impressed or disbelieving. Rayne couldn’t decide which, but Chase should know by now that Rayne could do anything a butch like Chase could do, and do it in high heels without breaking any nails. “G&T wouldn’t let me have one if I wasn’t.”

  “Let you? Aren’t you the one calling the shots?”

  Rayne smiled at the dig but didn’t rise. “I’ll be the one firing the shots if I have to. That’s all you need to know.” Rayne wished she could have seen Chase’s face. It sounded like she might even be smiling. Rayne’s own smile disappeared when she heard Ginn’s hollering. The whirring of helicopter blades deadened Ginn’s words, but her urgency was unmistakable. The spatter of gunfire punctured the short silences between the blades slashing through the night sky, and Tonyck turned back to face her.

  “Stay low. Conserve your ammo. Shoot single shots where you see the sunbursts,” Tonyck said before clambering over the tomb to join her sister. She turned back briefly and pointed toward Chase. “And keep her out of the way.”

  Rayne swallowed hard and pulled her Colt from its holster. Shooting at sunbursts instead of paper targets sounded only slightly less ominous than shooting at people. The tomb shifted suddenly and disappeared from view. Rayne could see bursts of gunfire maybe a quarter of a mile away. She had no idea what weapons they were using or what range they might have. She was only hoping that they didn’t have anti-aircraft missiles. G&T said they’d always carried arsenic capsules in a false filling in their teeth in case they were captured and the future looked grim. Rayne wondered if they’d kept them. They had no backup team in case this operation went south. What would she do if they were captured? She didn’t want to think about that right now. Getting out of here had to be her only focus.

  She pulled down her night goggles and ventured out, careful to keep low as Tonyck had instructed. She glanced back at Chase to see she had a phone in her hand. Was she sending a final text just in case they didn’t make it out of here? Who to? Rayne didn’t think Chase was seeing anyone.

  Another burst of gunfire startled her from her absurdly misplaced musings. “Follow behind me.”

  Rayne saw Chase clench her jaw. She clearly didn’t like the idea of being rescued by someone she saw as a damsel no doubt, but she had little choice. This was a dangerous place to give playtime to Chase’s ego so she ignored it and moved forward. The twisted air from the invasion of the helicopter blades made the dust plume upward in vicious mini tornadoes and gave them some natural cover. Rayne could see Tonyck working hard to fix the tomb to the custom-built cargo carrier beneath the chopper while Ginn laid down cover fire forty feet away to draw enemy fire from her sister. Rayne moved beyond Tonyck and the chopper and dropped into a ditch, pressing herself against the compacted dirt.

  Chase thudded down beside her. “What are the chances of us getting out of here alive?”

  Her voice sounded calm considering their surroundings, and Rayne was glad Chase seemed to be relatively cool in a crisis of this magnitude. Both of them were archeologists, and neither of them were battle trained. But they both knew the risks of this particular undertaking. At least Rayne had brought a team qualified to deal with this fallout. What was Chase thinking, coming in here alone? Rayne quelled the pique she felt rising. Chase shouldn’t be her concern, and yet here she was, about to return enemy fire on her behalf.

  Rayne ignored the question she didn’t want to answer and slowly raised her head above ground level to wait for an attack. It wasn’t long before a whole surge of sunbursts lit up an area of palm trees, and the rounds kicked up sand just in front of her. Submachine guns, and in range. Her own fire would barely cover half the distance between them and whoever was attacking them, but it would give them more than one target to aim at. That way, they couldn’t be sure of how many of them there were. She steadied her arms on the ground, just like Tonyck had taught her. Closed her right eye. Ignored her hammering heart. Braced her arms and shoulders. Took a deep breath. Slowly squeezed the trigger.

  Without ear defenders, the reverberation of the gunshot surprised Rayne. She tuned it out and refocused. Another shot. Still powerful enough to shove her shoulders back a few inches, but she was more prepared for the noise this time. Ginn shot flares of fire from her MPX just to the left of her, and their attackers returned the favor. Rayne was soon through her first magazine. She drew back into the hollow, released the empty clip, and slammed another into the magazine seat. She was back over the ledge and firing a slow and steady stream of shots in double quick time. Rayne registered the proximity of the shots heading her way. Some thudded to the ground close enough to feel vibration in the dirt, others tore open the air above her head, echoing their deadly intent as they passed.

  “G! Rayne! We’re a go. Get over here.”

  Rayne couldn’t recall ever being more elated to hear Tonyck’s voice. She retreated from the edge of danger, caught hold of Chase’s arm, and tugged her toward the helicopter. She heard the heavy footfall of Ginn close in before she felt her strong arm wrap around her back and propel them all forward. They ducked beneath the hurtling chopper rotor, and Ginn made sure Rayne was the first one in. Rayne turned to see Ginn all but throw Chase into the cabin.

  “Get us the fuck out of here, Mac.” Tonyck stepped onto the landing skids and continued to fire as Mac steered the Huey in the opposite direction to the attack.

  Rayne backed up and settled onto the canvas covered bench. Chase hitched herself up to sit beside Rayne. Tonyck was already seated on one of the outward facing benches, her gun trained on the disappearing landscape of the Palmyrene mountain belt, and Ginn perched similarly on the opposite bench.

  Rayne holstered her weapon and stretched out her hand slowly. She hadn’t realized how hard she’d been gripping her gun, and her fingers felt like arthritic twisted steel. She used her other hand to rub it out and pushed away the latent panic at the back of her throat. They were safe, and she had the casket. She glanced across to Chase, who’d dropped her head between her knees and had her hands on the back of her neck. Her pack lay discarded between her feet. Rayne once again admired the distinct lines that separated her delts and biceps. Her attention traveled along Chase’s back to appraise her ripped lats, and Rayne allowed herself a moment to imagine digging her nails into that back while Chase fucked her.

  She’d transformed her body in the year Rayne hadn’t seen her, and the transformation was impressive. Rayne had always had a soft spot for Chase, but her new hard body ramped her attractiveness up a level and made the conquest even more appealing. Rayne tugged out the wrap holding her hair up and enjoyed the weight of it falling over her shoulders like a comforting blanket. She leaned in to Chase’s ear and whispered, “Let’s go to my place.”

  Chapter Three

  Cyprus, 2019

  Chase turned up the heat on the shower and pressed her head to the smooth tile. The Palmyran desert sand pooled around her feet before snaking off toward the drain and disappearing. She closed her eyes tight. She could’ve disappeared tonight. In the heat of the fight, she hadn’t wanted to contemplate what would have happened if the ISIS forces had overcome Rayne and her team. But now, in the safety of the penthouse suite at the Royal Casale, Chase couldn’t switch off the part of her brain that insisted on going to that dark place. The image of al-Asaad’s mutilated body etched itself on her eyelids, and she opened them quickly. It could’ve easily been her hanging from one of those columns right now. One thing that had come out of this was that she’d be carefully considering the potential danger in all future assignments. Up to today, it had been easy to be gung-ho, but being faced with her own mortality had been quite the wake-up call. No amount of physical training could have prepared her for what had transpired that evening.

  A big part of her wanted to be angry with Rayne. Chase was more or less convinced that it was Rayne who had attracted the unwanted attention, but she had no way of really knowing that patrol wouldn’t have come her way regardless. For all she knew, it could hav
e been a routine scouting party that attacked them and had nothing to do with Rayne’s presence. In which case, Chase should be on her knees thanking Rayne and her team for saving her skin and Zenobia’s tomb. In the afterglow of survival, she’d almost forgotten that not only had they gotten away from Syria with their lives, Rayne had rescued Zenobia’s legacy from certain desecration by a historically disrespectful occupying force.

  Chase stopped herself from getting carried away with thoughts of Rayne being suddenly altruistic. She’d been there for a client, as always…but Rayne hadn’t been obliged to take Chase with her. More than simply take her with them, Rayne had protected Chase. She’d risked her life by firing back. She hadn’t taken cover and waited for the gorilla girls to clear the path. Rayne had taken an equal responsibility in getting them out of there, and now they were safely ensconced in a luxury hotel over three hundred miles away.

  She couldn’t deny that she’d been more than a little impressed with how Rayne handled the situation. She could even have been a little turned on by it all if she hadn’t been fearful for her life. There was something about a woman like Rayne taking control that scratched for her attention. But it also dug at her prowess and taunted her for not taking care of Rayne.

  She heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door. “Yeah?”

  “Are you hungry?”

  Rayne’s question was ambiguous. For food or something else? The way her hot breath had caressed Chase’s ear in the helicopter with the offer of going to her place inferred Rayne could be offering something other than a meal. But Chase wouldn’t be going there. As grateful as she was for the extrication from certain death, Rayne Marcellus was still a glorified tomb raider, and that didn’t sit well. It didn’t matter how off-the-charts sexy she was. And no doubt, Zenobia wouldn’t be made available for the whole world to celebrate.