Free The Thirteenth Legion (A James Acton Thriller, #15) (James Acton Thrillers) by J Robert Kennedy Page A

transport the skull,
you hope to the location where they have the others.”
    “Exactly.”
    Laura
leaned forward. “But what if they scan the case again?”
    Chaney
smiled. “They’ll have to get lucky. The tracker will only activate for a thirty-second
interval every five minutes. After a few scans, I’m sure they won’t bother.”
    Acton
let out a long sigh. “So you’re hoping to get lucky.”
    Chaney’s
head bobbed. “Yup.”
    “And
what happens with us?” asked Laura.
    “They
should take the skull, hear your story, then let you go. There’s no reason to
harm you, and at that point they won’t care about me anymore, so there’s no
point in following you. They’ll have what they want.”
    “Let’s
hope you’re right.”
    “So
you’ll do it?”
    Acton
looked at Laura, who nodded slightly.
    “Brilliant!”
Chaney handed him a phone. “Time to make the call.”
     
     

 
     

     
     
    Nubian Desert, Egypt, University College London Dig Site
     
    Cameron Leather peered through his sunglasses, the glint of light in
the distance exactly where he expected it to be. He raised his binoculars and
peered through, the image of an Egyptian soldier immediately popping into
focus. The man waved, Leather returning it before continuing his patrol.
    It had
been quiet here since the attack on the camp by extremists hell bent on
destroying anything they considered blasphemous. Good men had been lost,
including from his own security detail, though the children, the students, had
been saved.
    As a
soldier, he had seen a lot of death, especially in the British Special Air
Services. He had retired a Lt. Colonel and formed his own company, mostly
hiring ex-Special Forces from around the world to provide private security to
the rich, powerful or famous.
    Though
never the infamous.
    He had
his standards.
    Laura
Palmer, who fell solidly in the ‘rich’ category, had hired him several years
ago to provide security after an incident in London, with a stipulation in the
contract that he had been reluctant to agree to, it meaning he’d be out of the
action, action he thrived on.
    She
wanted him to provide the security whenever possible. She felt since she
was hiring his firm, she should get him . He had refused, but the
remuneration she offered had been huge.
    And he
had been wrong about the action.
    The
woman had a propensity to get herself in trouble along with her new husband. It
had meant he’d been in more intense firefights than he had ever dreamed of
after retirement, so he was more than happy to stick where she wanted him.
    He was
rarely bored.
    Things
were still slightly tense here at Professor Palmer’s archeological dig site.
Students from her former school of University College London worked the dig
expertly, grad students Terrence Mitchell and his new wife Jenny running it
when Laura was away. She was supposed to have returned by now, but a gunshot
wound in France had taken her down and mostly out for a while, she not yet
fully recovered.
    He
looked forward to her return.
    Then
there might be some action.
    Though
he doubted it.
    Their
little patch of the desert attracted little attention, and with a permanent
Egyptian military guard stationed less than a kilometer away, funded by her, he
had little doubt things would remain quiet.
    I
wonder who’s richer, the Queen, or Laura Palmer.
    He had a
funny feeling it would be the latter, with most of it being liquid assets.
    His
satellite phone vibrated on his hip. He extended the antenna and took the call.
“Go ahead.”
    “Colonel?
This is Agent Reading.”
    Leather’s
eyebrows rose slightly, his spine tingling as he sensed he was about to get in
on some of the action he and his men were so desperately craving. “Hello Agent,
if you’re calling me, I assume there’s a problem?”
    “Yes.
Jim and Laura have been kidnapped.”
    Leather
froze, then began to jog back to the dig. “From where?”
    “A mall
parking lot in Maryland.”
    “Any
ransom