East of the Jordan (A Logan Connor Thriller Book 2) by Micheal Maxwell

Author:Micheal Maxwell [Maxwell, Micheal]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, thriller
Publisher: Maxwell Books, LLC
Published: 2021-01-17T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

A few well-placed bribes put Logan and Eric on a cargo flight headed for Antalya, Turkey. They rode in a cargo hold full of frozen chickens. They bundled in coats and blankets and rode the four hours to Turkey in shivering silence. Occasionally, Eric would look up from breathing warmth into his hands to glare at Logan.

Logan just shrugged and said, “I said it was important work. I never said it was comfortable.”

Each of them sat on a box of frozen chickens as they crossed borders into Turkey. Once they landed, they slipped off the cargo plane and into the back of an eighteen-wheeler headed for Aleppo. In Aleppo, they got on a passenger bus.

The bus was mostly empty, so Logan and Eric had the back to themselves.

Eric said, “Who’s the next name?”

Logan replied, “It just says Jethro ibn Ahmad, archaeologist.”

“Why would Abu Kishaa want an archaeologist dead?” Eric asked.

Logan replied, “That’s what we need to find out.”

The bus bounced and trundled through the grassy countryside. If they could go straight to Apamea, the trip would have taken only a short time. Instead, the bus wound through the roads that were built around the tallest hills and mountains. The winding path dragged the trip out for hours. Eventually, though, they reached Apamea.

Eric googled Apamea. He said, “Apamea was a Byzantine city. It’s one of the longest Roman colonnades ever.”

Logan looked out of the window and saw crumbling Roman columns emerging from the grassy hill like diseased teeth jutting out of green gums. The pillars stretched for hundreds of feet. Logan said, “Oh, really?”

Eric looked up and chuckled. “Yeah, that must be it.”

They stepped off the bus. After a few minutes, the bus pulled away, and they were alone underneath the ruined columns. In the distance, tents were set up. They were mostly just canvas covers on tent skeletons to keep the sun off the people working there.

About a dozen people were milling around. Some of them were digging around the columns with tiny shovels. Others were dusting off pieces of rock with what looked like small paintbrushes.

Logan pointed at the camp of people. “You imagine there’s an archaeologist over there?”

Eric started walking. “Let’s go find out.”

They approached the camp of people digging. A man sat behind a table, typing away on a laptop. He looked up over the top of the computer and squinted. He pulled glasses down off his head so he could see.

“Salaam,” he said with a wave.

Eric waved back. “Salaam.”

In Arabic, Logan said, “We’re looking for Jethro ibn Ahmad.”

The man replied, “I’m Jethro. Who are you?”

Logan said, “I’m Niles. This is Binyamin. We’re from the Byzantine Research Society of Alabama.”

Jethro frowned. “I apologize. I’ve never heard of your organization.”

Logan looked shocked. “We’re the preeminent Eastern Roman Empire research organization in the southeastern United States.”

Jethro nodded. Every academic was the preeminent academic in his mind.

“We heard you’re doing some pretty groundbreaking work here,” Eric said. The kid was quick. Every academic also thought he was doing groundbreaking work.

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