The Project 04 - Black Harvest

floor was given over to artifacts and sculpture. A nice statue of Dionysius, god of wine. A display featuring coins and relics from early Christian and Roman sites in the area. Interesting, but none of it useful. She went upstairs.
    The prime exhibit was a hydraulic water organ over two thousand years old. She wondered what the music had sounded like. The rest of the floor dealt with life in classical Dion. Tools. Pottery. A child's toy horse, small statues of the gods, everything displayed in glass cases that ran along the walls or stood on plinths on their own.
    Selena came to a new section. The centerpiece of the display was a full scale cast taken from the lid of a tomb. It was perfect, unmarred by weather and time. A young and handsome face was carved on the lid in bas relief, helmeted and confident and haughty, the lips full and voluptuous. Even in the cold white of plaster the face was astounding, beautiful, perfectly proportioned, as if the lips would suddenly open and speak. Selena looked at the inscription engraved below and translated in her mind.

    Aetolikos
    Safe in Elysium

CHAPTER NINE

    "You found his tomb?"
    Harker put Selena's call on the speaker. Nick and Stephanie listened.
    "Not his tomb. A cast taken from inside it. The tomb was only discovered last fall. The archeologist in charge sealed it and stopped excavation during the winter rains, but he's about to start up again."
    "How did you find that out?"
    "I had coffee with the curator of the museum. He was thrilled to have someone to talk to and very enthusiastic about the tomb. It's built into the side of a hill with several rooms. The connection to Alexander makes it a priority dig. There could be something there."
    "Can you get into it?"
    "I don't know. I've got some names and I've got the location. Nothing's going to happen until Monday."
    "What's your plan?"
    "Go out there, introduce myself, use my credentials. Butter up the chief archeologist and hint at good publicity for him. Everyone wants academic recognition. Tell him I'd appreciate a guided tour. I think he'll go for it."
    "And?"
    "If I see something, check it out."
    Harker picked up her pen, twirled it in her fingers. Nick waited for the tapping to begin and breathed an inward sigh of relief when she set it down.
    "Is anyone else showing interest?"
    "Not that I've noticed." The connection hissed with atmospherics. "This place is like a ghost town. There aren't many people staying here. The ones I've seen don't strike me as unusual. A couple of businessmen from Georgia. A couple of honeymooners. Some older folks."
    "What are American businessmen doing in Dion?" Nick asked. His ear began itching.
    "Not Georgia like Atlanta. Georgia as in the nation. I didn't pay much attention. They were talking over lunch, something about exporting olives to Russia."
    Someone knocked on her door.
    "Just a minute." She called out. "Yes?"
    "Room service." The voice was muffled.
    Still holding the phone, she walked to the door. "Room service. I didn't order anything. Hang on."
    She started to open the door. It slammed into her, knocking her back into the room. The phone flew from her hand. The two men she had seen in the restaurant came hard into the room.
    Twenty years of martial arts kicked in. Master Kim had seen promise in his young student and taken her aside for special instruction. Over the years he'd taught her a more dangerous level of the art.
    She'd landed on her back on the floor when the men burst in. Selena used the movement to somersault herself back and up. She stepped to the side of the man charging at her, grabbed his jacket with both hands and brushed him with her hip. His momentum sent him flying into the wall across the room. The second was on her, wrapping his arms around her. She knew better than to try and use her strength to escape. Instead, she spit in his face. He pulled back in reflex. She head butted him with everything she had. He wasn't expecting it and loosed his hold.
    It was enough. She pivoted and used her left hand to grasp his right in a wrist lock and bore down. The hard lock sent an instant, overwhelming pain up his arm. It blocked thought for a critical instant, all she needed. She reached under his elbow with her other hand and levered the elbow up and in and away. It made an ugly sound like a wet branch breaking. He screamed in agony. She moved back and kicked him in the groin with her leg and heel extended, crushing his testicles. He screamed again and fell to