FIC: In the Arms of the Wicked, 15 (Ian/OMC, OCs, PG-13)
Title: "Crash"
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 15/?
Characters: Ian/OMC, other OCs.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Ian and archeology try to get along, but it's not easy with such strange people around.
Feedback: Yes, please. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The wonderful fredbassett. Thanks so much, hon!
Previous chapters: Click here.
Previous chapter
Next chapter
Part 15: "Crash"
Sure, Ian was used to travelling around the country in jets, but this wasn’t definitely the type he was expecting. As he got into the plane, he slowly became aware again that Dr. Farrow’s life was different than the one he showed to the cameras.
Inside, everything was very simple and well organized, though the piles of books that dominated the interior wasn’t exactly tidy. Ian looked around in confusion, his gaze landing on the works of people whose names he remembered perfectly, his brain feeling at home amongst the smell of ancient paper and ink.
“Are you all right, Agent Edgerton?” Farrow’s voice startled him, bringing him down from his sudden cloud. In a way, Ian was glad that his little happy moment was over; if he kept on remembering, he’d probably get to the ugly part of his memories.
He took a breath and stated, “Yeah, of course I am.” He hated having the blue eyes of that little know-it-all on him, especially when they seemed to be about to catch a lie or a subtle distortion in the message. “Do you always you travel around with so many books?”
“Time is not something we can waste,” Farrow responded, finally looking in another direction. He started walking and Ian followed him, just in case. The plane was the unknown for him; everything still had the potential for turning into a nightmare of gold and leather and other things the sniper despised with all his heart.
However, the seats were common; nothing fancy, nothing weird, nothing luxurious. “Please,” Farrow said as he pointed at one of them. Then he took several books and sat down, Sergio and the bodyguards followed suit. The awkwardness of the situation made Ian go with the flow; he had a job to do, and he was more than capable of standing being around such weird people in order to get to the bottom of the robberies.
He lifted an eyebrow at the archeologist, but he still sat down, far away from him, watching him closely. Next to Farrow, Sergio was organizing the books his boss was revising and discarding.
“I’m not going to try to convince you that I’m innocent. I realize that it’d be useless, and frankly, I can live with you thinking I’m a thief,” Farrow explained, as he kept looking for a certain title. “I don’t need to prove anything to you. Someday, the truth will shock you and you’ll see that I am what I say that I am.”
Ian cocked his head, smelling another lie. “Sure.” That made Farrow stop looking at his books and close them immediately, just like he’d done when they were at his house outside L.A.
“Oh, here we go again...”
“I don’t think so. I’m your bodyguard and as far as I remember, you let your employees speak freely to you. Isn’t that true, Sergio?”
The only thing Sergio did was glance at Ian, then at his boss and go back to the books. He obviously didn’t want to get involved in whatever weird discussion was taking place between the other men.
“So what now? You’re going to do research until we land?” Ian continued, catching Farrow’s annoyed smile.
“Yes. Is that breaking the law?”
Ian smirked.
The archeologist shook his head. “If it’s illegal in some way, you’re more than welcome to arrest me.”
“Oh, I would. For my personal pleasure.”
There was a moment in which no one spoke. Ian could feel all eyes on them, he even knew Sergio was paying attention. He loved the tension and the impression he left on the archeologist; he also wondered how he’d respond.
“Hmm,” Dr. Farrow said, staring at Ian and looking pleased. He licked his lips. “Interesting.” With a crooked smile, he finally found his book and he proceeded to focus on it. Watching him read, the sniper started to feel dizzy, and soon, when the jet took off and he had to fasten his seatbelt, he felt tired and sleepy.
A few minutes later, the turbulence was over. Fortunately, no one seemed to be up for conversation and Ian closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered seeing was Farrow’s hands hovering over the pages of the book again.
It was a little hard to walk, and Ian hated it. Why couldn’t he do it faster? Why the hell hadn’t he been more careful? If he’d been behaving himself, his knee wouldn’t hurt like hell, and reaching her study wouldn’t be that hard.
But finally, he was at her door. Ian watched the wonderful woman who had both fixed his life and turned it upside down at the same time.
“Marah, what are these books for?” Ian asked, as delicate hands roamed over the pages of old, dusty books she had on one of her desks. “Chardonnay? Cabernet Sauvignon?”
“Ian,” she said, approaching him and kissing his forehead. “Yeah, these are all about wine.”
“What about this one? Guns?” Confused, Ian looked around and saw a rifle on her other desk. “Why are you…?”
“Safety, that’s all.” She looked sad when she spoke, but as always, she did it from the heart. “It’s the truth.”
Looking into her eyes, Ian tried very hard to believe her. “I’ll protect you,” he said anyway.
Smiling sweetly, she opened her arms for him. “Oh, come here.” She held him tight as he felt safe and warm; being so close to Marah allowed him to smell her soft perfume and feel her dark curls brushing his cheeks. “I love you so much.”
He didn’t answer. There was something in her voice, something that indicated that she was about to cry.
“Your knee… It hurts, doesn’t it?” she asked, her perfect tenderness mixed into a voice that sounded like it was going to break at any minute.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s never nothing. We’ll take care of it, okay?” Clearly worried about him, Marah hugged him again. Ian enjoyed the nearness of her body as if it was for the last time.
And then a shot took him by surprise.
“What the…?” Ian said, his eyes opening in shock, his body getting up as a reflex to a horrible nightmare. When he realized where he was, he looked through the window and saw that the jet was coming in to land. It was early in the morning, and he could see the dry ground of Arizona. The airport was certainly close.
Fortunately, no one asked him if he was okay; Farrow had fallen asleep on his seat with his book open on his legs, and not even while dreaming did he look inoffensive. By his side, Sergio snored and was talking in his sleep. The bodyguards were flipping through the pages of magazines, some of which looked quite dirty to Ian; but then again, if they were allowed to see them, it was Farrow’s decision.
A voice was heard through the speakerphone of the jet. “Dr. Farrow and crew, may I have your attention, please? We are expected to land within the next ten minutes, so please, take your precautions. Thank you very much.”
“God, I hate it when she’s so formal. I’ve told her thousands of times to call me by my first name,” Farrow muttered as he rubbed his eyes. He then yawned, and he looked at the book that was on his legs. “And… I fell asleep again.”
“Do you want me to give you any of your pills, Chris?” Sergio asked him, but Farrow shook his head. “Okay.”
As he fastened his seatbelt and put the book away, Dr. Farrow turned to Ian, who was simply observing the situation. “Did you get a good sleep?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“I’m glad.” The archeologist bit his lip. “The jet is landing…”
Of course, Ian grabbed the edges of the seat. When the jet finally came to a halt and the flight attendant said that it was okay to get up, he wasn’t surprised to see that they were in a private airport again.
When the right moment came, he took the bag he had brought on board with him and stood at the door of the jet. The place was so arid and lonely, and an SUV was waiting for everyone to get in with their books and luggage. Tired, but ready to start the journey, Ian made his first steps into the beautiful morning ahead.
XxX
Traveling in an SUV with Farrow and with everyone else wasn’t exactly the most pleasurable ride in the world, but Ian was able to keep his mind busy concentrating on something different. The nightmare he’d had was still fresh in his head, and he hated memories. He really did. Especially the ones about Marah. Although it was all about her, really.
The ride was long, but they finally reached Farrow’s house. As the vehicle got closer to it, Ian started to see again how strange everything around him was. He caressed his chin as he analyzed the solid, yet old building that was waiting for him. It was simple, rustic, and it really seemed to be impossible for anyone to live there. Farrow definitely had his ways to erase himself from the map.
When the SUV stopped, the bodyguards started offloading the luggage and books. In the meantime, Sergio took out of his pocket the keys of the house and went towards the door. Once it was open, Farrow and everyone else got in.
Farrow ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Geez, it’s hot in here…”
“Yeah… I’ll let some air in,” Sergio said, as he walked towards one of the big windows and started to open it. Some rays of light of the day bathed the first room, and that’s when Ian realized that it wasn’t dirty or messy. It was still rustic, but it was also strangely stimulating. There were only futons in the first room, and a little table with a lot of papers and a few cups of hot coffee on it.
“How…?” he tried to ask, but suddenly a woman, who’d apparently been in the next room, came to welcome them. She had to be in her fifties; she had tanned skin, short, curly, red hair and a great, friendly smile.
“Hey, Lillian,” Farrow said, pulling her into a tight hug that made Ian uncomfortable. Watching the archeologist be affectionate to people in such situations was something that he wasn’t expecting. “This is Lillian Fisher, one of the best in the field and my personal Egyptian goddess.”
“Oh, stop it,” she told him, with a perfect British accent, shaking her head.
“Nice to meet you. I’m…” He hated saying it, but he had to. “My name’s Ian Edgerton, I’m…” He took a deep breath, because he was going to pronounce the name. “I’m Chris’ new bodyguard.”
“And one hell of a fellow.” The wide, mocking smile in Farrow’s face made Ian snort in frustration.
Ian was about to leave to a more lonely place, but he caught the intimate smile Lillian was giving Farrow, as if he had sent her a secret message. “Oh, finally… After all this time…”
“Oh, no, I never said that… It was only a joke.”
“Well, don’t play with me like that, you know I hate it. I care about you,” she said as she hugged him again and he reciprocated.
“All right, all right…” he muttered, and then he turned to Ian again. “You’re going to meet some of the amazing people I work with. Richard should arrive tonight. I’m sending him the jet.”
Looking excited, Lillian went towards the table, grabbed the papers that lay on it and showed them to Farrow. When Ian got closer to them, he saw it was a map of the house. “I’ve already surveyed the area, basing it on the data we already had from our previous work. It all looks fine, except for a spot here, twenty meters away from the garage.”
Thoughtful, Farrow’s eyes travelled over the map. “What’s the substantive evidence?”
“Distortion of superficial sediment structure indicates possible human activity. Plus, I’ve run the magnetometer survey and checked magnetic susceptibility and resistivity. This thing should be about seven meters down.”
“Hmmm. All right. Could you show me?”
“Sure, follow me.” Lillian guided the way out of the house and towards the spot that was being analyzed. “Okay, this is it.”
Ian took a look at the place and immediately walked towards the spot, kneeling in front of it. He touched the dry ground, barely running his fingers over it. It was slightly dusty and the cracks in it weren’t as sharp and defined as they should.
“Sediments have been removed from their original location by a few inches.”
When Ian realized that the one talking was Farrow, he turned to the side and saw that the archeologist was beside him, kneeling and examining the ground, as well. For a moment, the sniper believed in his expertise; now Farrow didn’t look like the unbearable rebel, but like a young man fascinated by the mysteries of the world.
“In my opinion, yeah, this is the spot. Do you agree, Ian?” Farrow asked, looking back at him.
Ian raised his eyebrows and turned to the ground, running his fingers over it again. Then he got up. “Yeah, I do.”
Farrow got up and put a hand on Lillian’s shoulder, smiling at her. “Amazing job, as usual. No wonder you’re my best friend.”
“Very funny,” she answered, as the three of them looked at the spot. “So, what do you want to do, Chris?”
Again, hearing people call Farrow by his name was extremely awkward for Ian. It indicated intimacy, respect and friendship, and it was hard for him to see the archeologist in such context.
“We have breakfast, because it’s going to be a long day and we don’t know how much time this is gong to take. But we start today. In an hour.”
When Ian turned to Farrow, he found a wonderful, excited smile spreading over Lillian’s face. “Awesome.”
XxX
Even in such a simple environment, Ian expected a wonderful, expensive breakfast to be bought. He discovered that he was wrong when he took a look at the table in the dining room. As Sergio had stayed inside the house, he had taken care of the last details, and now he was pouring coffee on the cups of Farrow’s bodyguards, who where seated at the table already.
“Hey, guys,” the archeologist said when he, Lillian and Ian went in. The bodyguards greeted him and the others as they ate. “C’mon, Ian, take a seat. Enjoy the first meal of the day with us.”
Looking around the rectangular old table, Ian felt like he had done in his old days in Afghanistan, when he’d sometimes wished he could share a meal with other human beings in a calm place. He decided to sit down and sip his coffee. Everyone around him was laughing and talking about excavations, grids and jokes he didn’t even want to try to understand. All archeologists and the people who worked with them seemed to be a bit crazy, not just Farrow.
“Oh, and of course, then I met Ian,” the blue-eyed man suddenly said, taking Ian out of his train of thought. He was expecting a sarcastic story about how they had supposedly met, but he became speechless when he heard Farrow saying, “He’s become my friend so fast… I trust him completely.”
All Ian did after those words was sip his coffee as the people around the table smiled at him. Lillian seemed to be especially happy; it seemed that the news had brought some home to her heart. But the conversation continued, getting to issues the sniper wasn’t expecting.
“And then he stuck that stick in that hole and…” she said a while after, as she explained an excavation she had been part of in Egypt.
“Okay, now, don’t say it like that, it sounds so pornographic,” one of the bodyguards said, with a disgusted look on his face. “It’s too early in the morning for that… I’m trying to eat my breakfast!”
Farrow laughed, finished his coffee and put his cup down. He looked at his watch. “Oh, no. I think it’s a great time for archeological porno tales… Shall we start with this fascinating adventure?”
The bodyguards ate in silence, not finding that funny. Lillian’s forehead creased in worry. “I don’t know if I’d call it fascinating, Chris.”
That was when Farrow leaned on the table and joined his hands, in a position that reminded Ian of Professor Fleinhardt. The sniper remembered telling Reeves that he didn’t understand the friendship between the two men; he hadn’t seen the archeologist working yet, but just by feeling the passion everybody seemed to have for their job, his doubts had been cleared up.
“I know that,” Farrow seriously said. “I’m as worried as you. I don’t know what the hell is down this earth, but I’m going to take it out and I’m going to find whoever stole those antiques. I swear it for Loui…” He interrupted himself, gaining a lot of worried looks from his friends. “All I’m saying is that I can’t stand people who mess up what they shouldn’t.”
With that, he got up and left. Sergio and Lillian followed him immediately. Ian wasn’t in the mood to deal with other people’s personal problems. He had enough with the nightmare he’d had about Marah. But he also knew that the name Farrow had pronounced, Louis, was the man who had been killed in that same house two and half years ago.
“I don’t blame him for reacting like that,” one of the body guards told the others, who were sipping their coffee in silence. Ian got up to go find Farrow but surprisingly, the archeologist came back.
He stood at the door, looking at the floor. With his two friends beside him, he ran his palms over his face and then put his hands on his hips. He raised his gaze and spoke. “If you’re ready, we could start…”
“Sure, sure,” the bodyguards said in hushed whispers, as they got up and started cleaning up the table. Ian was surprised to see how they were reacting; all of them seemed to have something to do with the man named Louis Terrence.
But it was time for the archeologists to do their job. Decided to find out more about the dynamics between the people he had met, Ian offered himself to help them, and no one turned him down. But it didn’t seem to be because they were thankful; it really looked like they had more important matters to worry about than having an inexperienced person dealing with the object that was hidden underground.
XxX
“Here,” Lillian said, handing Ian a digital camera. She turned to the others, who were hovering around the mysterious spot. “And now I pronounce you the new official Photo-Man.”
“Hey, Photo-Man,” everyone waved at Ian, smiling like it was funny or something.
He just shook his head and glanced at his camera. “Fine. Just let me know when you need me to take a picture.”
“Oh, that’s not all you’re going to do, silly.” The way she talked to him like she’d known him forever always made him feel awkward and out of place. But at the same time, she really seemed to be warm and nice, and free of all bad intentions. She handed him two buckets and a shovel. Ian just took it all, as everyone stared at him. “We work together as one. We all get to do everything. If you’re going to participate in this, you get the entire ride,” Lillian added, arranging her hair and putting on a hat. Ian stared back at the rest of the team, while she walked towards the others. “C’mon, sweetheart, the topsoil is not going to strip itself!”
Confused but determined to go through this in order to do this job, Ian surrendered to the unknown. This time, not even Farrow’s little smile could make him back out.
XxX
Archeologists were definitely something out of this world. Ian had to admit that they were really easy to talk to, and that after working together for so long, they’d really built a bond between them and others who didn’t share their profession.
Among his partners and friends, Dr. Christopher Farrow turned into a whole different person. He was even more energetic than usual, but the tone of his voice was excited and focused. He really didn’t seem to be into sarcasm when he was doing his work.
As Lillian had already taken care of the site grid before everyone arrived to the house, they should start digging, but someone was missing. “Where is she?” Farrow said, putting on his gloves.
Sergio shrugged. “I have no idea. She was here a minute ago.”
In that precise moment, she came out of the house holding an MP3 and two little speakers. She put them on a little chair they had brought outside and turned them on. Rock music started to fill the air. The quality of the sound was bad, but no one seemed to care.
“Highway to Hell?” one of the bodyguards asked her.
“AC/DC, yes,” she proudly answered, and she went to get her shovel.
Feeling like he was at the circus, Ian looked at Farrow, who just shook his head at Lillian and waited for her to join the group. “All right, people! Let’s dig!” he yelled, as he pushed his shovel into the ground.
XxX
By eleven pm, the topsoil and a meter of dirt had already been removed from the ground, put into buckets and taken to a location near the deep hole inside the site grid. Now, it was time to be more careful and do the work manually. Everyone was in a good mood because of all the progress they had made.
“You’re going to drive me nuts with your rock music, Lillian,” Sergio said as he kept taking down notes and walking around the place.
She took her gloved hands out of the dirt and took a shovel. “It’s not my fault that you’re more into salsa, you know.”
Farrow, who was digging beside her, laughed at her little comment. Ian watched them from the other side of the hole; he had put on his own gloves and now he was helping them out.
“Photo-Man, could you take a picture of that?” Lillian asked him, seriously gesturing to come closer.
Ian took a deep breath and left his shovel. “Okay.” He walked towards her and knelt in front of her and Farrow, trying to take a picture of a part of the ground that had a strange shape. He had dirt on his clothes and his skin; he could swear he had it in his hair, too.
“What do you see in that area that makes you so curious?” Farrow’s voice asked behind him.
“Oh, nothing in particular. I just wanted to enjoy the view a bit.”
Stunned, Ian caught the possible meaning of that phrase, but he didn’t look back at the red-headed woman. She kept listening, though.
“I have to admit it, Chris. The Photo-man has a very nice butt,” she continued, making Ian uncomfortable. “I bet he’d look like a Calendar Boy if we got rid of all those dirty clothes. It’d be quite a show. Maybe we should change his name to Hot-Stuff.” Farrow laughed instantly.
“All right…” Ian muttered, getting up.
“How I’d love to hear, ‘Hot-Stuff at your service, ma’am.’”
“God, woman, behave yourself!” Sergio said, laughing, as he kept walking around with his little note book. The bodyguards shook their heads; apparently, Lillian always made those kinds of jokes.
“What?” she said. “I spend most of my time in a hole in the ground, so I think I deserve to have a little fun. Besides, one’s never too old to give compliments.” She turned to Ian, who was watching her. “Just remember, darling, that archeologists are not afraid to go down and dirty. Isn’t that right, Chris?”
“Yes, we love it,” he joked, too.
Ian looked at everyone around him and didn’t know how to react. “Oh, dear,” he whispered to himself, as he went back to his side of the hole.
XxX
There were only a few times in Ian’s life when he had felt so tired and eager for a shower. The sound and the feeling of water splashing his body and sliding down it was refreshing and calming. He hoped that a good night sleep would get him ready for the next day. He wasn’t used to listening to so many pranks, and they had left him exhausted. It was like his world had crashed into Farrow’s in a very short space of time.
Sergio had arranged a room in the house for him, but of course, Ian wouldn’t stay there. If he was going to keep an eye on Farrow, he was going to do it well - even if that meant spending every night in his bedroom. So he grabbed a pillow and a blanket and made his way towards his destination. He remembered seeing a chair in a corner, and he was planning to crash there.
Nevertheless, a little surprise was waiting for him. A warm, nice, comfortable bed that had been brought in and erected inside Farrow’s bedroom, to enable the sniper to sleep there.
“What is this?” he asked, in a raspy tone of voice, standing at the door. Sergio was making the bed while Farrow walked around the room with a book in his hands.
“Chris insisted that you should have an extra bed here,” the butler responded, and when he was done with his job, he left. Farrow and Ian were now alone.
Of course, Ian was already jumping to conclusions. He didn’t like it, but he took the bed. He had to spend the night there anyway.
“I thought you’d sleep here, so I went ahead and got it all ready for you,” Farrow muttered, walking towards his own bed. He didn’t turn to Ian as he walked in and threw his pillow and blanket to the floor
The sniper shook his head. “You can’t buy me with a warm bed.”
Farrow put his book on his rustic nightstand. “I’m not trying to.” He glanced at the Ian and barely smiled.
With that, conversation was over. Still feeling tricked, Ian sat on his bed. He had just let his head rest on the pillow when he heard people yelling outside of the room. In seconds, Sergio was storming into the room. He looked pale and worried and out of control.
“Chris, just… You have to see this… It’s all over the news…”
XxX
“How did that happen?” Farrow asked over and over again. “How? I mean, I have another plane, but we were there a few hours ago.” He wasn’t walking around anymore. Now he was seated on a chair, looking at the screen of Lillian’s laptop. The images showed his jet on fire, falling apart, in the airport it had landed at early that day.
“I was watching the news when I came across it,” the woman explained, and she clicked on a link. “Look, this was the exact moment it happened. The jet lost its balance and just before landing, it skidded off the runway and crashed into the airport building.” The images accompanied her words.
“Wasn’t one of your friends, another archeologist, supposed to be in that plane?” Ian asked, remembering some of Farrow’s words.
Lillian’s lips trembled as she spoke. “Yeah, but Richard’s okay. He made it, I don’t know how, since there were five people killed. He just rang me to tell us not to worry about him. He’s at a hospital near Phoenix, though. I want to see him. He seemed to be in pain anyway.”
“Then you should go.”
“Yeah, you go and check on him,” Farrow said, folding his arms and staring at the screen. “I’ll stay here. We need to figure out whatever message that cult is sending me, and we need to do it soon.”
As one of the bodyguards offered himself to drive Lillian to the hospital to see her friend Richard, Ian couldn’t stop watching Farrow’s dark expression. It was as if seeing the images of fire men trying to suffocate the flames and save people from dying was slowly giving the archeologists the answers he’d come here to find.
Series: In the Arms of the Wicked, Part 15/?
Characters: Ian/OMC, other OCs.
Rating: PG-13.
Spoilers: None.
Warnings: None.
Summary: Ian and archeology try to get along, but it's not easy with such strange people around.
Feedback: Yes, please. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything (characters, situations, etcetera) except my OCs.
Beta: The wonderful fredbassett. Thanks so much, hon!
Previous chapters: Click here.
Previous chapter
Next chapter
Part 15: "Crash"
Sure, Ian was used to travelling around the country in jets, but this wasn’t definitely the type he was expecting. As he got into the plane, he slowly became aware again that Dr. Farrow’s life was different than the one he showed to the cameras.
Inside, everything was very simple and well organized, though the piles of books that dominated the interior wasn’t exactly tidy. Ian looked around in confusion, his gaze landing on the works of people whose names he remembered perfectly, his brain feeling at home amongst the smell of ancient paper and ink.
“Are you all right, Agent Edgerton?” Farrow’s voice startled him, bringing him down from his sudden cloud. In a way, Ian was glad that his little happy moment was over; if he kept on remembering, he’d probably get to the ugly part of his memories.
He took a breath and stated, “Yeah, of course I am.” He hated having the blue eyes of that little know-it-all on him, especially when they seemed to be about to catch a lie or a subtle distortion in the message. “Do you always you travel around with so many books?”
“Time is not something we can waste,” Farrow responded, finally looking in another direction. He started walking and Ian followed him, just in case. The plane was the unknown for him; everything still had the potential for turning into a nightmare of gold and leather and other things the sniper despised with all his heart.
However, the seats were common; nothing fancy, nothing weird, nothing luxurious. “Please,” Farrow said as he pointed at one of them. Then he took several books and sat down, Sergio and the bodyguards followed suit. The awkwardness of the situation made Ian go with the flow; he had a job to do, and he was more than capable of standing being around such weird people in order to get to the bottom of the robberies.
He lifted an eyebrow at the archeologist, but he still sat down, far away from him, watching him closely. Next to Farrow, Sergio was organizing the books his boss was revising and discarding.
“I’m not going to try to convince you that I’m innocent. I realize that it’d be useless, and frankly, I can live with you thinking I’m a thief,” Farrow explained, as he kept looking for a certain title. “I don’t need to prove anything to you. Someday, the truth will shock you and you’ll see that I am what I say that I am.”
Ian cocked his head, smelling another lie. “Sure.” That made Farrow stop looking at his books and close them immediately, just like he’d done when they were at his house outside L.A.
“Oh, here we go again...”
“I don’t think so. I’m your bodyguard and as far as I remember, you let your employees speak freely to you. Isn’t that true, Sergio?”
The only thing Sergio did was glance at Ian, then at his boss and go back to the books. He obviously didn’t want to get involved in whatever weird discussion was taking place between the other men.
“So what now? You’re going to do research until we land?” Ian continued, catching Farrow’s annoyed smile.
“Yes. Is that breaking the law?”
Ian smirked.
The archeologist shook his head. “If it’s illegal in some way, you’re more than welcome to arrest me.”
“Oh, I would. For my personal pleasure.”
There was a moment in which no one spoke. Ian could feel all eyes on them, he even knew Sergio was paying attention. He loved the tension and the impression he left on the archeologist; he also wondered how he’d respond.
“Hmm,” Dr. Farrow said, staring at Ian and looking pleased. He licked his lips. “Interesting.” With a crooked smile, he finally found his book and he proceeded to focus on it. Watching him read, the sniper started to feel dizzy, and soon, when the jet took off and he had to fasten his seatbelt, he felt tired and sleepy.
A few minutes later, the turbulence was over. Fortunately, no one seemed to be up for conversation and Ian closed his eyes. The last thing he remembered seeing was Farrow’s hands hovering over the pages of the book again.
It was a little hard to walk, and Ian hated it. Why couldn’t he do it faster? Why the hell hadn’t he been more careful? If he’d been behaving himself, his knee wouldn’t hurt like hell, and reaching her study wouldn’t be that hard.
But finally, he was at her door. Ian watched the wonderful woman who had both fixed his life and turned it upside down at the same time.
“Marah, what are these books for?” Ian asked, as delicate hands roamed over the pages of old, dusty books she had on one of her desks. “Chardonnay? Cabernet Sauvignon?”
“Ian,” she said, approaching him and kissing his forehead. “Yeah, these are all about wine.”
“What about this one? Guns?” Confused, Ian looked around and saw a rifle on her other desk. “Why are you…?”
“Safety, that’s all.” She looked sad when she spoke, but as always, she did it from the heart. “It’s the truth.”
Looking into her eyes, Ian tried very hard to believe her. “I’ll protect you,” he said anyway.
Smiling sweetly, she opened her arms for him. “Oh, come here.” She held him tight as he felt safe and warm; being so close to Marah allowed him to smell her soft perfume and feel her dark curls brushing his cheeks. “I love you so much.”
He didn’t answer. There was something in her voice, something that indicated that she was about to cry.
“Your knee… It hurts, doesn’t it?” she asked, her perfect tenderness mixed into a voice that sounded like it was going to break at any minute.
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s never nothing. We’ll take care of it, okay?” Clearly worried about him, Marah hugged him again. Ian enjoyed the nearness of her body as if it was for the last time.
And then a shot took him by surprise.
“What the…?” Ian said, his eyes opening in shock, his body getting up as a reflex to a horrible nightmare. When he realized where he was, he looked through the window and saw that the jet was coming in to land. It was early in the morning, and he could see the dry ground of Arizona. The airport was certainly close.
Fortunately, no one asked him if he was okay; Farrow had fallen asleep on his seat with his book open on his legs, and not even while dreaming did he look inoffensive. By his side, Sergio snored and was talking in his sleep. The bodyguards were flipping through the pages of magazines, some of which looked quite dirty to Ian; but then again, if they were allowed to see them, it was Farrow’s decision.
A voice was heard through the speakerphone of the jet. “Dr. Farrow and crew, may I have your attention, please? We are expected to land within the next ten minutes, so please, take your precautions. Thank you very much.”
“God, I hate it when she’s so formal. I’ve told her thousands of times to call me by my first name,” Farrow muttered as he rubbed his eyes. He then yawned, and he looked at the book that was on his legs. “And… I fell asleep again.”
“Do you want me to give you any of your pills, Chris?” Sergio asked him, but Farrow shook his head. “Okay.”
As he fastened his seatbelt and put the book away, Dr. Farrow turned to Ian, who was simply observing the situation. “Did you get a good sleep?”
“Yeah. I did.”
“I’m glad.” The archeologist bit his lip. “The jet is landing…”
Of course, Ian grabbed the edges of the seat. When the jet finally came to a halt and the flight attendant said that it was okay to get up, he wasn’t surprised to see that they were in a private airport again.
When the right moment came, he took the bag he had brought on board with him and stood at the door of the jet. The place was so arid and lonely, and an SUV was waiting for everyone to get in with their books and luggage. Tired, but ready to start the journey, Ian made his first steps into the beautiful morning ahead.
XxX
Traveling in an SUV with Farrow and with everyone else wasn’t exactly the most pleasurable ride in the world, but Ian was able to keep his mind busy concentrating on something different. The nightmare he’d had was still fresh in his head, and he hated memories. He really did. Especially the ones about Marah. Although it was all about her, really.
The ride was long, but they finally reached Farrow’s house. As the vehicle got closer to it, Ian started to see again how strange everything around him was. He caressed his chin as he analyzed the solid, yet old building that was waiting for him. It was simple, rustic, and it really seemed to be impossible for anyone to live there. Farrow definitely had his ways to erase himself from the map.
When the SUV stopped, the bodyguards started offloading the luggage and books. In the meantime, Sergio took out of his pocket the keys of the house and went towards the door. Once it was open, Farrow and everyone else got in.
Farrow ran his fingers through his thick hair. “Geez, it’s hot in here…”
“Yeah… I’ll let some air in,” Sergio said, as he walked towards one of the big windows and started to open it. Some rays of light of the day bathed the first room, and that’s when Ian realized that it wasn’t dirty or messy. It was still rustic, but it was also strangely stimulating. There were only futons in the first room, and a little table with a lot of papers and a few cups of hot coffee on it.
“How…?” he tried to ask, but suddenly a woman, who’d apparently been in the next room, came to welcome them. She had to be in her fifties; she had tanned skin, short, curly, red hair and a great, friendly smile.
“Hey, Lillian,” Farrow said, pulling her into a tight hug that made Ian uncomfortable. Watching the archeologist be affectionate to people in such situations was something that he wasn’t expecting. “This is Lillian Fisher, one of the best in the field and my personal Egyptian goddess.”
“Oh, stop it,” she told him, with a perfect British accent, shaking her head.
“Nice to meet you. I’m…” He hated saying it, but he had to. “My name’s Ian Edgerton, I’m…” He took a deep breath, because he was going to pronounce the name. “I’m Chris’ new bodyguard.”
“And one hell of a fellow.” The wide, mocking smile in Farrow’s face made Ian snort in frustration.
Ian was about to leave to a more lonely place, but he caught the intimate smile Lillian was giving Farrow, as if he had sent her a secret message. “Oh, finally… After all this time…”
“Oh, no, I never said that… It was only a joke.”
“Well, don’t play with me like that, you know I hate it. I care about you,” she said as she hugged him again and he reciprocated.
“All right, all right…” he muttered, and then he turned to Ian again. “You’re going to meet some of the amazing people I work with. Richard should arrive tonight. I’m sending him the jet.”
Looking excited, Lillian went towards the table, grabbed the papers that lay on it and showed them to Farrow. When Ian got closer to them, he saw it was a map of the house. “I’ve already surveyed the area, basing it on the data we already had from our previous work. It all looks fine, except for a spot here, twenty meters away from the garage.”
Thoughtful, Farrow’s eyes travelled over the map. “What’s the substantive evidence?”
“Distortion of superficial sediment structure indicates possible human activity. Plus, I’ve run the magnetometer survey and checked magnetic susceptibility and resistivity. This thing should be about seven meters down.”
“Hmmm. All right. Could you show me?”
“Sure, follow me.” Lillian guided the way out of the house and towards the spot that was being analyzed. “Okay, this is it.”
Ian took a look at the place and immediately walked towards the spot, kneeling in front of it. He touched the dry ground, barely running his fingers over it. It was slightly dusty and the cracks in it weren’t as sharp and defined as they should.
“Sediments have been removed from their original location by a few inches.”
When Ian realized that the one talking was Farrow, he turned to the side and saw that the archeologist was beside him, kneeling and examining the ground, as well. For a moment, the sniper believed in his expertise; now Farrow didn’t look like the unbearable rebel, but like a young man fascinated by the mysteries of the world.
“In my opinion, yeah, this is the spot. Do you agree, Ian?” Farrow asked, looking back at him.
Ian raised his eyebrows and turned to the ground, running his fingers over it again. Then he got up. “Yeah, I do.”
Farrow got up and put a hand on Lillian’s shoulder, smiling at her. “Amazing job, as usual. No wonder you’re my best friend.”
“Very funny,” she answered, as the three of them looked at the spot. “So, what do you want to do, Chris?”
Again, hearing people call Farrow by his name was extremely awkward for Ian. It indicated intimacy, respect and friendship, and it was hard for him to see the archeologist in such context.
“We have breakfast, because it’s going to be a long day and we don’t know how much time this is gong to take. But we start today. In an hour.”
When Ian turned to Farrow, he found a wonderful, excited smile spreading over Lillian’s face. “Awesome.”
XxX
Even in such a simple environment, Ian expected a wonderful, expensive breakfast to be bought. He discovered that he was wrong when he took a look at the table in the dining room. As Sergio had stayed inside the house, he had taken care of the last details, and now he was pouring coffee on the cups of Farrow’s bodyguards, who where seated at the table already.
“Hey, guys,” the archeologist said when he, Lillian and Ian went in. The bodyguards greeted him and the others as they ate. “C’mon, Ian, take a seat. Enjoy the first meal of the day with us.”
Looking around the rectangular old table, Ian felt like he had done in his old days in Afghanistan, when he’d sometimes wished he could share a meal with other human beings in a calm place. He decided to sit down and sip his coffee. Everyone around him was laughing and talking about excavations, grids and jokes he didn’t even want to try to understand. All archeologists and the people who worked with them seemed to be a bit crazy, not just Farrow.
“Oh, and of course, then I met Ian,” the blue-eyed man suddenly said, taking Ian out of his train of thought. He was expecting a sarcastic story about how they had supposedly met, but he became speechless when he heard Farrow saying, “He’s become my friend so fast… I trust him completely.”
All Ian did after those words was sip his coffee as the people around the table smiled at him. Lillian seemed to be especially happy; it seemed that the news had brought some home to her heart. But the conversation continued, getting to issues the sniper wasn’t expecting.
“And then he stuck that stick in that hole and…” she said a while after, as she explained an excavation she had been part of in Egypt.
“Okay, now, don’t say it like that, it sounds so pornographic,” one of the bodyguards said, with a disgusted look on his face. “It’s too early in the morning for that… I’m trying to eat my breakfast!”
Farrow laughed, finished his coffee and put his cup down. He looked at his watch. “Oh, no. I think it’s a great time for archeological porno tales… Shall we start with this fascinating adventure?”
The bodyguards ate in silence, not finding that funny. Lillian’s forehead creased in worry. “I don’t know if I’d call it fascinating, Chris.”
That was when Farrow leaned on the table and joined his hands, in a position that reminded Ian of Professor Fleinhardt. The sniper remembered telling Reeves that he didn’t understand the friendship between the two men; he hadn’t seen the archeologist working yet, but just by feeling the passion everybody seemed to have for their job, his doubts had been cleared up.
“I know that,” Farrow seriously said. “I’m as worried as you. I don’t know what the hell is down this earth, but I’m going to take it out and I’m going to find whoever stole those antiques. I swear it for Loui…” He interrupted himself, gaining a lot of worried looks from his friends. “All I’m saying is that I can’t stand people who mess up what they shouldn’t.”
With that, he got up and left. Sergio and Lillian followed him immediately. Ian wasn’t in the mood to deal with other people’s personal problems. He had enough with the nightmare he’d had about Marah. But he also knew that the name Farrow had pronounced, Louis, was the man who had been killed in that same house two and half years ago.
“I don’t blame him for reacting like that,” one of the body guards told the others, who were sipping their coffee in silence. Ian got up to go find Farrow but surprisingly, the archeologist came back.
He stood at the door, looking at the floor. With his two friends beside him, he ran his palms over his face and then put his hands on his hips. He raised his gaze and spoke. “If you’re ready, we could start…”
“Sure, sure,” the bodyguards said in hushed whispers, as they got up and started cleaning up the table. Ian was surprised to see how they were reacting; all of them seemed to have something to do with the man named Louis Terrence.
But it was time for the archeologists to do their job. Decided to find out more about the dynamics between the people he had met, Ian offered himself to help them, and no one turned him down. But it didn’t seem to be because they were thankful; it really looked like they had more important matters to worry about than having an inexperienced person dealing with the object that was hidden underground.
XxX
“Here,” Lillian said, handing Ian a digital camera. She turned to the others, who were hovering around the mysterious spot. “And now I pronounce you the new official Photo-Man.”
“Hey, Photo-Man,” everyone waved at Ian, smiling like it was funny or something.
He just shook his head and glanced at his camera. “Fine. Just let me know when you need me to take a picture.”
“Oh, that’s not all you’re going to do, silly.” The way she talked to him like she’d known him forever always made him feel awkward and out of place. But at the same time, she really seemed to be warm and nice, and free of all bad intentions. She handed him two buckets and a shovel. Ian just took it all, as everyone stared at him. “We work together as one. We all get to do everything. If you’re going to participate in this, you get the entire ride,” Lillian added, arranging her hair and putting on a hat. Ian stared back at the rest of the team, while she walked towards the others. “C’mon, sweetheart, the topsoil is not going to strip itself!”
Confused but determined to go through this in order to do this job, Ian surrendered to the unknown. This time, not even Farrow’s little smile could make him back out.
XxX
Archeologists were definitely something out of this world. Ian had to admit that they were really easy to talk to, and that after working together for so long, they’d really built a bond between them and others who didn’t share their profession.
Among his partners and friends, Dr. Christopher Farrow turned into a whole different person. He was even more energetic than usual, but the tone of his voice was excited and focused. He really didn’t seem to be into sarcasm when he was doing his work.
As Lillian had already taken care of the site grid before everyone arrived to the house, they should start digging, but someone was missing. “Where is she?” Farrow said, putting on his gloves.
Sergio shrugged. “I have no idea. She was here a minute ago.”
In that precise moment, she came out of the house holding an MP3 and two little speakers. She put them on a little chair they had brought outside and turned them on. Rock music started to fill the air. The quality of the sound was bad, but no one seemed to care.
“Highway to Hell?” one of the bodyguards asked her.
“AC/DC, yes,” she proudly answered, and she went to get her shovel.
Feeling like he was at the circus, Ian looked at Farrow, who just shook his head at Lillian and waited for her to join the group. “All right, people! Let’s dig!” he yelled, as he pushed his shovel into the ground.
XxX
By eleven pm, the topsoil and a meter of dirt had already been removed from the ground, put into buckets and taken to a location near the deep hole inside the site grid. Now, it was time to be more careful and do the work manually. Everyone was in a good mood because of all the progress they had made.
“You’re going to drive me nuts with your rock music, Lillian,” Sergio said as he kept taking down notes and walking around the place.
She took her gloved hands out of the dirt and took a shovel. “It’s not my fault that you’re more into salsa, you know.”
Farrow, who was digging beside her, laughed at her little comment. Ian watched them from the other side of the hole; he had put on his own gloves and now he was helping them out.
“Photo-Man, could you take a picture of that?” Lillian asked him, seriously gesturing to come closer.
Ian took a deep breath and left his shovel. “Okay.” He walked towards her and knelt in front of her and Farrow, trying to take a picture of a part of the ground that had a strange shape. He had dirt on his clothes and his skin; he could swear he had it in his hair, too.
“What do you see in that area that makes you so curious?” Farrow’s voice asked behind him.
“Oh, nothing in particular. I just wanted to enjoy the view a bit.”
Stunned, Ian caught the possible meaning of that phrase, but he didn’t look back at the red-headed woman. She kept listening, though.
“I have to admit it, Chris. The Photo-man has a very nice butt,” she continued, making Ian uncomfortable. “I bet he’d look like a Calendar Boy if we got rid of all those dirty clothes. It’d be quite a show. Maybe we should change his name to Hot-Stuff.” Farrow laughed instantly.
“All right…” Ian muttered, getting up.
“How I’d love to hear, ‘Hot-Stuff at your service, ma’am.’”
“God, woman, behave yourself!” Sergio said, laughing, as he kept walking around with his little note book. The bodyguards shook their heads; apparently, Lillian always made those kinds of jokes.
“What?” she said. “I spend most of my time in a hole in the ground, so I think I deserve to have a little fun. Besides, one’s never too old to give compliments.” She turned to Ian, who was watching her. “Just remember, darling, that archeologists are not afraid to go down and dirty. Isn’t that right, Chris?”
“Yes, we love it,” he joked, too.
Ian looked at everyone around him and didn’t know how to react. “Oh, dear,” he whispered to himself, as he went back to his side of the hole.
XxX
There were only a few times in Ian’s life when he had felt so tired and eager for a shower. The sound and the feeling of water splashing his body and sliding down it was refreshing and calming. He hoped that a good night sleep would get him ready for the next day. He wasn’t used to listening to so many pranks, and they had left him exhausted. It was like his world had crashed into Farrow’s in a very short space of time.
Sergio had arranged a room in the house for him, but of course, Ian wouldn’t stay there. If he was going to keep an eye on Farrow, he was going to do it well - even if that meant spending every night in his bedroom. So he grabbed a pillow and a blanket and made his way towards his destination. He remembered seeing a chair in a corner, and he was planning to crash there.
Nevertheless, a little surprise was waiting for him. A warm, nice, comfortable bed that had been brought in and erected inside Farrow’s bedroom, to enable the sniper to sleep there.
“What is this?” he asked, in a raspy tone of voice, standing at the door. Sergio was making the bed while Farrow walked around the room with a book in his hands.
“Chris insisted that you should have an extra bed here,” the butler responded, and when he was done with his job, he left. Farrow and Ian were now alone.
Of course, Ian was already jumping to conclusions. He didn’t like it, but he took the bed. He had to spend the night there anyway.
“I thought you’d sleep here, so I went ahead and got it all ready for you,” Farrow muttered, walking towards his own bed. He didn’t turn to Ian as he walked in and threw his pillow and blanket to the floor
The sniper shook his head. “You can’t buy me with a warm bed.”
Farrow put his book on his rustic nightstand. “I’m not trying to.” He glanced at the Ian and barely smiled.
With that, conversation was over. Still feeling tricked, Ian sat on his bed. He had just let his head rest on the pillow when he heard people yelling outside of the room. In seconds, Sergio was storming into the room. He looked pale and worried and out of control.
“Chris, just… You have to see this… It’s all over the news…”
XxX
“How did that happen?” Farrow asked over and over again. “How? I mean, I have another plane, but we were there a few hours ago.” He wasn’t walking around anymore. Now he was seated on a chair, looking at the screen of Lillian’s laptop. The images showed his jet on fire, falling apart, in the airport it had landed at early that day.
“I was watching the news when I came across it,” the woman explained, and she clicked on a link. “Look, this was the exact moment it happened. The jet lost its balance and just before landing, it skidded off the runway and crashed into the airport building.” The images accompanied her words.
“Wasn’t one of your friends, another archeologist, supposed to be in that plane?” Ian asked, remembering some of Farrow’s words.
Lillian’s lips trembled as she spoke. “Yeah, but Richard’s okay. He made it, I don’t know how, since there were five people killed. He just rang me to tell us not to worry about him. He’s at a hospital near Phoenix, though. I want to see him. He seemed to be in pain anyway.”
“Then you should go.”
“Yeah, you go and check on him,” Farrow said, folding his arms and staring at the screen. “I’ll stay here. We need to figure out whatever message that cult is sending me, and we need to do it soon.”
As one of the bodyguards offered himself to drive Lillian to the hospital to see her friend Richard, Ian couldn’t stop watching Farrow’s dark expression. It was as if seeing the images of fire men trying to suffocate the flames and save people from dying was slowly giving the archeologists the answers he’d come here to find.