The Eden Factor (Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Romance Adventure Series Book 2) (6 page)

BOOK: The Eden Factor (Kathlyn Trent/Marcus Burton Romance Adventure Series Book 2)
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Kathlyn grinned. "I think it
was one of the requirements for my degree."

Marcus interrupted them. "So
what does that scripture mean?"

Kathlyn looked at him. "I
think it means that Iraq is a very dark land, dark with hatred and fear and
sin. Maybe the entire ambiance of the country was the darkness I was feeling. I
just don't know, but it was definitely eerie."

McGrath stroked his chin.
"Then let me ask you this, Kathlyn. Since your degree is in Biblical
Archaeology, you must believe strongly in God."

"Of course I do."

"Do you believe that He
leads you to these finds?"

"Absolutely. Ask old Dr.
Tyree; he was the one who steered me into my field. He said that God had given
me a gift, and I believe it."

McGrath smiled. "Professor
Viktor Tyree has been retired for four or five years now. I've only met him
once or twice at department mixers.  He was really something when he was head
of Biblical and Philosophical Sciences, wasn't he?"

"The best," Kathlyn
said softly. "And there was something he said about Biblical Science when
people would ask why we dared to trifle with such things."

"What was that?"

She lifted an eyebrow. "Here
we go again with scripture. Job 12:22 says that 'He reveals the deep things of
darkness and brings deep shadows into the light'.  Dr. Tyree always thought
that God would bring out the crux of Biblical relics when the time was right;
you know, deeply buried things like arks and grails and angels that are the
basis of our beliefs. Tyree thought that maybe it was my job to start doing
that kind of stuff."

"So you think this angel
thing is one of those?"

"Maybe it's time."

"So what do you want to
do?"

She fixed him with an intense
stare from the bright green eyes. "Go in and get the sucker."

"Seriously?"

"World Geography be damned.
If they're not going to give me the money to go in on this, then I say we go in
on our own and sell the media rights once I've done the excavation."

"I would want the relic for
our museum. That will not carry a price."

"Absolutely not. Every relic
I've ever brought back has gone into the university's museum. There's never any
question."

McGrath finished his cigarette
and tossed it out the window. "Is your team up to this? They've had it
pretty good excavating in Egypt with Marcus' team.  If we do this the way you
want to, they're going to have to jump back into the fire again."

"They've done worse,"
she replied. "We've been mountain climbing in subzero temperatures,
digging in solid ice, or crawling through snake-infested catacombs in Mongolia.
They think the Valley of the Kings is a cushy job, but they're up for
anything.  My people are hard-core to the bone."

McGrath pondered the view outside
his window a moment longer. He walked back toward the couch. "You know
that what you're suggesting is unethical, of course. No permits, no permission.
It's vandalism."

Kathlyn knew that. She thought
carefully before answering. "I don't consider it vandalism for two very
good reasons; first, the relic sits on the ground considered to be the
village's property. If they give me permission to dig, then that's good enough
for me. Second, Iraq is a country in turmoil. It just kills me to think of all
of the valuable artifacts and ancient civilizations they sit upon and do
nothing to restore or protect them. I have this horrible feeling that if we
don't remove that skeleton, the Iraqi government will eventually become aware
of it and then we'll lose it forever.  They'll surely destroy it, or hide it
away somewhere where we'll never know the truth about it. What I do, I do to
protect it because it's something very valuable to the culture of
Mankind."

"You're sure of that."

"I believe it with all my
heart."

McGrath sat down on his heavy oak
and glass coffee table. It was apparent that he was torn. "Okay. Say I go
along with you on this. So how do you want to proceed?"

Kathlyn looked at Marcus; he just
looked back at her. She wasn't sure if she was seeking his approval for this,
or his help, or something else. But he was showing no emotion whatsoever. She
was on her own.

"The first thing we need to
do is negotiate with the elders of the village. I need to tell them what I want
to do and stress how it will benefit them and the entire human race. I need to
offer them an attractive sum of money, I'm sure. The university has got to give
me the clout to offer them whatever it takes."

McGrath stopped her right there.
"That may be difficult, Kathlyn. I'll have to call for a special meeting
of the Board of Regents and we'll have to gain approval. But I can guarantee
you they'll put a ceiling on your sum."

"I realize that,"
Kathlyn said. "But these are poor people. I'm sure they'll be reasonable
because any fair sum to them will seem like a fortune. But that's, of course,
providing that they'll even negotiate at all."

"And if they don't?"

She shook her head, slowly.
"I don't know. We'll just have to cross that bridge when we come to
it."

McGrath cocked an eyebrow.
"You don't give up that easy."

"No, I don't."

"Am I thinking that you'll
just go in and excavate it anyway?"

"Maybe."

"That is vandalism."

"That's science."

McGrath took a deep breath,
glancing at Marcus as he did so. The man was unusually quiet. Marcus always had
an opinion about something and wasn't shy about expressing himself.

"If you do that, I'm not so
sure the university will back you," he said. "We don't need that kind
of reputation."

Kathlyn waved a hand at him.
"Oh, Jobe, don't be a hypocrite. How I got it won't matter once it's
hanging in the atrium of the museum for the entire world to admire. Let's face
it; who's going to sympathize with an oppressive, murderous government when
they complain that America confiscated an ancient relic from their soil?"

McGrath did turn to Marcus, then.
"Are you going to help me or are you just going to sit there?"

Marcus lifted a dark eyebrow.
Then he scratched at his chin. "I think I'm just going to sit here until I
can figure out how to tell her I don't want her to be hasty about going in
there with guns blazing." He looked at his wife. "You forget that
I've seen you work. You'll stop at nothing to get what you want in the name of
history.  I've called you a loose cannon before, sweetheart; you do have that
tendency."

Kathlyn wasn't sure how to take
him. "If you call determination being a loose cannon, then I guess I am.
But it's not selfish determination, Marcus; my fears for this relic are genuine
and I truly believe we need to get it out of Iraq before it's destroyed."

"I agree with you," he
said steadily. "But you'll get it by hook or by crook, damn the
appropriate channels.  You don't seem to realize you're going into perhaps one
of the most dangerous countries in the world; they'll shoot you before they'll
spit on you. I don't want my wife gunned down while chasing after one of her
famous Biblical relics."

Kathlyn didn't have an instant
reply. Her lips twisted wryly and she turned away. McGrath, sensing that the
meeting should probably come to a close for the day before things got
explosive, rose from his coffee table.

"Well," he said,
"nothing is going to happen today, at any rate. I suggest you both return
to Egypt and I'll let you know as soon as the Board convenes."

Marcus stood up but Kathlyn just
sat there. She felt like the whole world was turning against her, which wasn't
unusual. They were almost always against her, considering what she did for a
living.  She knew why Ballard and McGrath were so hesitant; she just wished she
had more support from Marcus.

"Thanks very much,
Jobe," she finally stood up, smiling weakly at him.  "I'll be waiting
with baited breath to hear from you."

He hugged her. "I
know," he said. "If you want to copy me on the same proposal you're
giving Ballard, it will give me something tangible to show them. The sooner the
better."

"Give me four days and I'll
email you something."

"Good enough."

They walked to the door, small
talk bouncing between them. Marcus and Kathlyn were silent on the walk from
McGrath's office all the way out to the parking lot.  It was a warm day; even
so, when Marcus released Kathlyn's hand as they reached the car, he noticed
that her palms were sweating.

"You think I'm wrong about
this?" Kathlyn asked him as she opened the car door.

Marcus climbed into their rented
SUV. "Wrong about what?"

"Going back into Iraq, by
hook or by crook, as you called it."

Marcus started the car and turned
on the air conditioning. "Sweetheart, I know you've been doing this for a
long time. I know you have your methods. What works for you might not
necessarily be something I would do, but that doesn't make it wrong. I'm not
judging you. But you have to realize that I'll be involved in this, too,
so...."

"What do you mean you'll be
involved with it, too? It'll just be me and my team going in. You'll stay in
Egypt on your dig."

He looked at her. "If you
think I'm letting you go back in there without me, you're out of your mind.
You're not going anywhere without me. I thought we agreed on this."

"We did," she said
evenly. "But this is different. If I go in there without any corporate or
university support, I can't ask you nor would I let you be involved in it. You
have a spotless reputation, Marcus, whereas mine is already pitted and scarred.
It doesn't matter much to me. But I can't let you ruin yourself like
that."

He turned the car off. His cobalt
blue eyes were smoldering. "My reputation is not my primary concern. You
are. If you're determined to go into Iraq, with or without support, I'm going
with you."

She just looked at him. Then she
faced forward and put her seatbelt on. She sat, looking through the windshield,
as Marcus glared at her.

"Don't you shut me out like
that," he growled. "If you go, I go. Is that clear?"

"Turn the car on,
please."

One of their famous, or infamous,
storms was brewing.  "Kathlyn, so help me...." Marcus hissed in
warning.

"Marcus, turn the car
on."

"We're not going anywhere
until you look at me."

She paused an appropriate amount
of time, just enough to really tick him off, before very slowly turning to him.
"What?"

"Do you understand me?"

"I hear your words. But you
don't seem to understand me."

"I understand you more than
you think. You're trying to protect me by keeping me out of this, but I'm
telling you that I'm a big boy. I can make my own decisions. And if my wife
wants to go into Iraq to excavate what could quite possibly be the greatest
anthropological find of all time, then I'm going with her."

He lifted his eyebrows at her to
emphasize his statement.  Kathlyn merely looked at him.

"How can you really want to
go if you don't even truly believe what it is we've found?"

"I never said I didn't
believe it."

She threw up her hands.
"That's just about what you conveyed to McGrath. If you had been more
supportive, he would have been, too. As it is, he's interpreting your
reluctance as disbelief, which is going to make it harder for me to gain
university support."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is. Why can't you
just have faith in my judgment, Marcus?

"I do."

She turned back to the window
with a growl of frustration. "If you did, you would have show more
support," she said. "You never have completely believed in what I do.
All this hocus-pocus and intuition just isn't something you've ever completely
embraced."

"Now, hold on," he said
quietly. "I've seen it in action. I believe it without question."

She whirled to him. "Then
why can't you believe me when I tell you that we've found an angel? It's living
proof of everything the Bible has ever told us. Marcus, we couldn't have done
better if we had found the steps to Hell itself."

He just looked at her. With a
sigh, he reached over and took her hand. "I'll give you one big reason why
I'm having trouble with this."

"What?"

"You said yourself that you
don't feel anything. Hell, I've seen you go into fits over less than this. I
trust your intuition implicitly. If it's silent, then there's a reason, no
matter how badly you want this find to be an angel."

"But what else could it
be?"

"I don't know," he said.
"But wishing it isn't going to make it happen."

She pulled her hand from his
grasp and crossed her arms. Turning back to the window, she didn't have
anything else to say. But in the back of her mind, she knew he was right.

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