Eternal Journey (Rogue Angel, Book 17)
Alex Archer, Jean Rabe
After shooting an episode of "Chasing History's Monsters "at a dig in Australia, Annja Creed is left feeling mildly unimpressed. The artifacts being uncovered are considered fringe by experts who doubt their authenticity. Annja is disappointed by the general lack of mystery involved. But her boredom is quickly replaced with fear when all that's left of her cameraman is a drop of blood on his hotel-room carpet.As she looks for her friend, Annja narrowly escapes an attack by gunmen. She realizes her cameraman must have captured the image of something so valuable that someone would kill them for just having dared look at it. When it becomes clear that everyone on the dig is at risk, Annja begins to think they're in danger not because of what they saw, but "who...."
thought. He happily headed back to clean his slab. DOC WAITED until he was well out of earshot of any of the students, then he held the phone to his ear. “This must be important.” He paused and swallowed hard. “Had better be important to bother me here while I am with the students.” He cocked his head and listened intently. Then he dropped his voice. “Annja Creed? The American? You have her, yes?” He scowled, all the lines of his face drawing together so that his expression looked pinched and
wobble, too, and at the same time sag; it was rotting from all the moisture. Once on the other side, she waited for Dari to put on his boots. Then she was quick to find the tracks again and follow them. The ground was uneven, and roots from the stringybarks poked up here and there as if they were trying to purposely trip her. There were gullies hidden by the ground cover, one of which sent Annja to the ground. She picked herself up before Dari could help, and she tested her ankles—the right one
You’d be too hard to find, or some animal will come and eat you. You’re coming with me.” She fought a wave of dizziness and picked him up in a fireman’s carry, moving fast because she wanted to get back to Wes and the others. She managed to lug him a few hundred yards when the pain in her side and her ankle became too great and the dizzy sensation returned. She dropped him and started pulling him by his ankles, still not slowing, but when she reached the edge of the dig site she let him go.
his knuckles bled, closed his eyes and begged the mother goddess’s forgiveness. He promised to carve another, more magnificent slab—one that would be placed by all of his men. There would be no risk of failure next time. “A fool, me,” he said. Henenu directed his anger inward now. “The fault is with me. The blame is all mine.” Perhaps the mother goddess was furious that they had spent their time erecting buildings rather than trying to get home. No, Henenu thought, they had tried so often to
she’d have to find the place. Big, the librarian said, though it was nonetheless concealed. ANNJA CONSIDERED herself good at finding things, but the sun was nearly down before she was able to find anything. “Kom Ombo,” she whispered. Annja had hidden her motorcycle behind a rise of earth and had been exploring on foot, paralleling a twisting dirt trail that had a security fence well back from the main road it branched off. She spotted cameras, too, on the gate and on thin poles that would be