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A sunken
warship from the Byzantine Era carrying an unusual cargo of gold has been found
off the coast of Northern Cyprus. News of the valuable cache has attracted the
attention of a terrorist cell. They plan to attack the recovery team’s campsite
and steal the artifacts. On the Black Market, the sale of the relics will buy them
additional weapons.
Charlotte Dashiell, an American archaeologist,
and her lover, Atakan Vadim, a Turkish government agent, are scheduled to be
part of the recovery team that brings up the artifacts. While en route to Cyprus,
they find themselves caught in the crosshairs of Maksym Tischenko, a Ukrainian
contract killer bent on revenge. Charlotte, Atakan and Tischenko share a grim
history. As a result, Tischenko is a man who will stop at nothing to achieve
his goal—seeing them both dead.
Byzantine Gold was rated "Top Pick" by Night Owl Reviews: http://www.nightowlreviews.com/v5/Reviews/Josie-reviews-Byzantine-Gold-by-Chris-Karlsen
Excerpt
Charlotte answered
on the fourth ring. Caller I.D. showed “restricted.”
“Hello.”
“They are called,
Angelique tulips. You admired them in the hospital garden in Paris.”
Charlotte froze,
holding her breath as she listened to the nightmare voice, remembering how his
Eastern European accent rounded certain sounds and how he stressed the last
syllables in his words. Called became cawl-d.
Tischenko.
“Everything in
time,” he said and hung up.
Charlotte dropped
the phone on the table. She turned to Atakan.
The shock must’ve
shown on her face. “What is wrong?”
“That was
Tischenko,” she said, finding her voice. “The flowers are from him. He was
watching me in Paris when I was at the hospital. He—”
Atakan didn’t wait
for her to finish. He rushed into the living room, grabbed his gun from the
bookshelf, and ran out of the apartment.
Charlotte followed
as he flew down the four flights of stairs to the street.
“Stop.” Catching up
to him on the sidewalk, she hooked his elbow with her hand. Fearful an armed
Tischenko hid nearby, she positioned herself in front of Atakan, thinking to
shield him. “We can’t stand here. He could be anywhere taking aim at you right
now.”
“Go back inside.”
“Not without you.”
She tugged on his shirt, pulling him toward their building. “Atakan please,
let’s leave. Call the Director.”
Atakan shoved her
behind him. Silent, his eyes searched the dark doorways of neighboring
apartment buildings and parked cars.
“Atakan please.”
“Get inside.”
She stepped in
front of him again. “We stay here together or we leave together.”
An eternity of
seconds passed. Neither moved or blinked.
They both jumped
and turned at the bellow from the horn of a passing truck. Thankfully, the
driver was waving to another coming the opposite direction. He never saw the
man in the sling pointing a gun at him.
“Please,” she
repeated.
Atakan nodded. He
stopped at the building’s entry door and took a last look, surveying the
street. “He moves us around like pawns in a private game.”
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