Her soft features hardened, her eyes betraying some regret and a tinge of lingering anger. 'It was a mistake. I was young—' she groaned, '— younger, and I was working with my dad at the time, not the most exciting of careers. Archaeology's pretty insular. And when I met Doug, he was this brash, confident showbiz guy. He's a charismatic bastard, there's no denying it, and I was just carried away by it. My dad was well-known and admired in his field, but he was a pretty serious guy—a bit grim, you know? And controlling. I needed to get out from under his dominance. And Doug was the way out. This in-your-face, highfalutin go-getter.'
'And you're partial to highfalutin, are you?'
Her face scrunched inward. 'No. Well, maybe I was. A bit. Anyway, when we were dating, he loved the fact that I also had a career. He was very supportive and interested. Then when we got married ... he changed overnight. He became even more controlling than my dad was. It was like he owned me, like I'd been a collectible he wanted on his shelves. And once he got it ... I was pregnant with Kim before I realized I'd made a mistake. I reluctantly took up my dad's offer to join him on his dig in Turkey—'
'—this is the same trip where you first met Vance?'
'Yes,' she confirmed, 'anyway, I went there thinking the time off would be good to mull things over, and when I got back I found out he'd been having an affair with the cliche of cliches.'
'The weathergirl?'
Tess let out a pained chuckle. 'Almost. His producer. Anyway, that was it. I was out of there.'
'And you went back to using your maiden name.'
'It doesn't exactly hurt in this business. Not that I wanted that creep's name associated with mine any longer than I had to.' Far from hurting, it had gone a long way in helping her get the job at the Manoukian Institute. And that was why a potential discovery of this magnitude, which owed nothing to Oliver Chaykin or to being his daughter, might be the stroke that dissolved any lingering thoughts, in her mind and the minds of others, that she was anything other than her own woman.
Provided, of course, that she was the one who made the discovery.
Her eyelids fluttered. She was weary and needed some sleep. They both did.
She looked at him warmly. After a quiet moment, she just said, 'Thanks.'
'For what?'
'For everything.' She leaned over, kissed him softly on his cheek, and pulled back. Outside, the stars felt close enough to touch, gliding by almost imperceptibly in the darkening sky. She pulled down the window shade and, turning over and closing her eyes, she felt herself drift away.
Chapter 54
B y the time Tess and Reilly clambered down the metal steps and onto the tarmac at Dalaman Airport, it was midafternoon and they were both feeling frazzled. The few hours of sleep they had managed on the transadantic flight had helped, but they could have used some real bed rest before continuing their journey. There was no time for that. Instead, they had added to their weariness by waiting three hours at Istanbul Airport before catching the short connecting flight to the south coast, from where diey would begin their inland trek.
Reilly had spent part of the wait in Istanbul on his cell phone, briefing Aparo before having a heated conversation with Jansson, who was still unconvinced by Reilly's rash decision to accompany Tess instead of hauling her ass in to Federal Plaza. The rest of the time was spent with the Bureau's local legal liaison officer, a paunchy man called Vedat Ertugrul who had driven out to meet them and helped facilitate Reilly's passport-less entry into the country. Ertugrul had only days earlier been notified of the likelihood that Vance might be headed for his part of the world. He confirmed to Reilly that, so far, none of the possible entry points had reported anything, before going over logistical arrangements and support protocols. The FBI didn't have any agents on permanent postings in Turkey. The nearest agents were currently in Athens, helping the local police investigate a recent car bombing. Relations with the Turkish government were at best strained, due to the tensions caused by the lingering turmoil in Iraq. Ertugrul assured Reilly that, if need be, he could probably arrange for a local police escort to join them in Dalaman. Reilly thanked him but declined the offer, preferring not to have to deal with language barriers and local bureaucracies. He asked Ertugrul to simply make sure they were informed of his presence on their turf. He'd keep in close contact and call in the troops if needed, although he suspected that this was something he would probably have to handle alone.
Reilly had also used the layover to pick up some more appropriate clothing. A small backpack in his hand now held his discarded work clothes and the paperwork Ertugrul gave him to use in lieu of a passport. It also carried an Iridium satellite phone he'd given him that, via the Department of Defense's dedicated EMSS gateway in Hawaii, would keep Reilly connected to the outside world from virtually anywhere on the planet.
Also in there was his Browning Hi-Power handgun, for which Ertugrul had graciously provided extra clips and cartridges.
Tess had also used the opportunity to call her aunt's house and speak to Kim and to Eileen. The call was a hard one to make. She missed Kim and felt it even more when she heard her voice on the phone, although knowing what a great time her daughter was having provided some solace. Telling her mother what she was up to, on the other hand, was a much harder exercise. Tess worked hard at reassuring her, resorting in desperation to telling her about Reilly being there with her—which only served to worry her mother even more. Why was an FBI agent accompanying her if it wasn't dangerous, she'd asked? Tess had fumbled some explanation about her being there purely as an outside expert, then used an overhead boarding announcement as an excuse to cut the conversation short. After she'd hung up, she'd felt bad about the call. But she knew there was nothing she could have told her mother, short of not telling her she was away at all, that wouldn't have alarmed her.
What Tess barely noted was die sallow-faced man who had accidentally bumped into her as she was making her way through the crowded terminal to die ladies' room in the minutes following that tough call. He'd knocked the carry-on she'd been trailing behind her right out of her hand, but had courteously retrieved it for her and made sure she was all right before moving on.
She did notice he reeked of stale cigarettes, but then from what she remembered, most of the men here smoked. What she didn't notice was the tiny black strip, roughly the size of a coin, that he had managed to stick by the small wheel well on the bottom of the bag.
With the bag now trailing safely behind her, Tess walked with Reilly as they made their way through the stifling and chaotic terminal to the car rental desk. Ertugrul had brought some hastily procured supplies, which included a crate of bottled water, two sleeping bags, and a nylon tent. A short while later, they were settled into a slightly tattered four-wheel-drive Mitsubishi Pajero on the centuries-old trail of a handful of shipwrecked warrior knights.
***
Reilly drove while Tess took on the role of navigator. She was using an assortment of maps and notes to try and retrace the route Al-Idrissi mentioned in his journals while reconciling it with elements gleaned from Aimard's letter.
As the shore dropped away behind them, the densely packed houses and low-rise apartment buildings quickly gave way to a calmer landscape. Huge swathes of the Lycian coastline had been protected as conservation areas before the airport at Dalaman was built, sparing the area from the blight of mass-market resorts. Tess and Reilly quickly found themselves driving through a more pastoral setting of older properties, fronted by rough stone walls and rusty wrought-iron fences and shaded by pine trees. On both sides of the road, the land appeared rich and fertile, dense with shrubs, and dotted with clusters of trees. On the higher ground to their right, the cover thickened.
It took less than an hour to reach Koycegiz, a small town resting on the edge of a large, mystical lake that once formed a natural harbor. Carian cliff tombs, intricately carved into the rocky hills bordering the lake and strikingly well preserved, loomed down on them somberly, a reminder of one of the many civilizations that had settled in this region.
About two miles beyond the town, Tess directed Reilly to turn off the main road. The asphalt was cracked and potholed; the journey from here
on would be rougher, but for the time being the Pajero's rugged suspension was taking it in stride.
They drove past olive and lemon groves, past cornfields and tomato plantations on roads lined by frankincense trees, the vibrant colors and smells helping to awaken their dulled, jet-lagged senses.
