Free Pompeii's Ghosts (A James Acton Thriller, #9) by J Robert Kennedy Page A

origin. “A pleasure,” she said, reaching out for Acton’s hand. “I’m
Tiffany Reese, United Nations. This is Reginald Wangari from the International
Monetary Fund.”
    Introductions
finished, Acton asked the obvious question. “Why are you here?”
    “Is
there someplace more private we can speak?” asked Reese, motioning toward the
gathering throng of armed students.
    Laura
nodded. “Follow me,” she said, then turning to the students and her ex-SAS head
of security Leather, said, “False alarm, everybody go back to whatever it was
you were doing.”
    They
walked to the main tent in silence then stepped inside, the cool air reminding
Acton that he was going commando. Laura pointed to the table. “Please have a
seat,” she said. “Can I get anyone something to drink?”
    “Water,
please,” said Reese quickly, her thin white blouse already sticking to her
body.
    “I’ll
second that,” said Wangari as he pulled at his shirt. “This is nice. Air
conditioning in the desert! If my grandparents had this, they may have never
left Kenya!” He laughed as he took the bottle from Laura, twisting off the cap
and downing half it.
    “Excuse
me for a minute,” said Acton. “You caught me in the shower.”
    “Oh,
don’t put on more clothes on my account!” laughed Reese, batting her hand at
Acton. “I’d die to have a pair of shorts and a t-shirt right now. Instead they
grabbed both of us out of a meeting in Dubai and had us on a plane in minutes.
Can you believe they made us leave our luggage behind?”
    Acton
stepped behind a privacy screen with his suitcase and quickly dressed as the
conversation continued on the other side.
    “What
could be so urgent?” asked Laura.
    “There’s
been a discovery. Archeological in fact, which is why we’re here,” replied
Reese.
    “A
discovery of monumental importance,” added Wangari. “Something that could
destabilize the entire region if word were to get out.”
    Acton’s
eyes narrowed as he slipped on a pair of underwear. An archeological find
that could destabilize a region? “What did you find?” he asked from behind
the partition.
    “I’ll
wait until you’re decent,” said Reese. “You have to see it to believe it.”
    “Where
was it found?” asked Laura.
    “In
Eritrea, along the Tekezé River,” answered Reese. “By a goat herder, no less.”
    Acton
finished dressing, opting to forgo his boots for expediency’s sake. He stepped
out from behind the partition and took an empty seat beside Laura.
    “Now,
how about we see what you found?” he suggested.
    Reese
nodded and Wangari placed his briefcase on the table, snapping open the catches
with a loud double-click. He opened the top and reached inside, removing a
small bundle, carefully wrapped in cloth. He placed it on the table with a
gentle thud.
    Acton
looked at Laura, curiosity etched on both their faces. “What is it?” she asked.
    Reese
motioned toward it. “Open it.”
    “Let me
get my tools,” said Acton, beginning to rise.
    Reese
waved her hand. “There’s no need. It’s not fragile and it’s been in dozens of
hands by now.”
    Acton
frowned, and noticed Laura doing the same.
    How
are we supposed to examine a find that has been handled so poorly?
    He sat
back down and reached for the bundle, pulling it gently toward them. Flipping it
over he found the edge of the cloth, and carefully unwrapped the item, which
felt to be about a pound in heft, and when he caught the first glint of the
surface, he heard Laura gasp before he had the chance.
    “It’s
gold!” she said as he revealed the full bar in all its glory. About the size of
a small candy bar, the dense metal made it deceivingly heavy for its size.
Flipping it over again revealed markings that had both of them leaning forward.
    “This
was minted during Vespasian’s rule,” said Acton, pointing at the writing. He
looked at their guests. “You found this in Eritrea?”
    “Yes.”
    Acton
shrugged, leaning back in his chair.