Chapter Seventeen: What is Written...

"Again I lay awake
and cried because of ways
I'd love to
but only with you."
-Morrissey

Stavros spoke softly to the dazed and confused young man who patrolled the cleaning tent at night. He spoke slowly cradling the back of his neck and sometimes wincing in pain. The others had thought Janice was being overly cautious assigning one of the workers to nightly watch duty, but she had several incidents at other digs of ambitious raiders trying to profit on priceless remnants of a time long ago. Since this was a relatively small site, Janice felt comfortable with only assigning one-person watch duty. As she surveyed the cleaning tent, she couldn't help but regret her decision. "Stavros, is he all right?"

Stavros finished his conversation with the young man who looked shaken, but otherwise unharmed. "Yes, he just does not know what happened. Apparently, someone came from behind and knocked him unconscious. He's a little sore, but looks like no damage." He padded the young man on the shoulder and left him in the care of Professor Michaels who examined the back of his head.

Professor Anderson, the last of the university to visit the cleaning tent, looked around the table top she had only left behind hours earlier which was now in complete disarray. "The first thing we need to do is establish what exactly is missing. Janice, did you bring the stone with the markings back here?"

"No, it's still in my tent." Rebecca let out a sigh of relief. "They didn't get it!" Janice said reassuringly.

Rebecca continued to look around the now brightly lit tent and saw that the raiders had opened the large crates that housed the more priceless and perfectly preserved of the artifacts. Looking down to the sandy floor, she noticed large boot prints presumably left by the clever and cunning thieves. Janice noticed Rebecca's fascination with the floor; her body hunched over one distinct set of prints. Leaning over the professor's shoulders, she surveyed the area near the crates.

"There about four different sets of prints. All men wearing boots. Boots, pretty rarely seen in the native villages of this region." She rose on the balls of her feet. "Looks like our thieves are not local boys."
===========================
"They knew exactly what they were doing. They knew which crates to open, which ones not to even bother with and even to look through our log book." Janice paced around the cleaning tent as she had for the past half an hour. Her university colleagues were trying to piece together an exact timetable for the crime as well as possible motive, considering all the clues the thieves accidentally left behind. Levy, Michaels, and Anderson pooled their minds together to try to solve this mystery. Madaline arrived minutes after Janice left her tent; still wearing the shirt Janice had almost torn off her body. She had tied it together in a knot at the bottom to hide some of the missing buttons.

Professor Levy shook his head before holding the bridge of his nose for a couple of seconds. Something he often did, Janice noticed, when he was under stress. "We are probably dealing with professionals. They knew how most digs operate and acted accordingly."

Professor Anderson chimed in. "But they couldn't have known our specific identification system. Each artifact is given a number, not a name when placed in this logbook. I had the more detailed log book in my tent and it never left my side." Rebecca picked up the logbook on the tabletop. "This log book only identifies when and where they were found, and in which crate they were placed. And these raiders knew specifically what pieces they were looking for because they only opened certain crates."

Levy looked around the room. "So what are you saying? This heist was orchestrated by someone who is a member of this dig."

"That would be the logical conclusion. Maybe one of the foreman or one of the more educated workers..."

Professor Michaels, pushing his black hair back with his short fingers, finally spoke up. "I don't think any of these workers would have the means to pull off something like this. Most of them are only villagers trying to make some extra money to feed their families. If this crime was perpetrated by someone within the dig, it had to be someone with means and motive, familiarity with this particular dig and someone beyond suspicion." Jonathan eyes finally rested on Janice.

Her anger started to rise by his mere implication. Walking toward the taller, dark haired man, she spat, "I prefer accusations about my character to be said up front rather than alluded to. So how about it Jonathan? Say what's really racing through that mind of yours!"

Jonathan swallowed hard being slowly intimidated by the shorter woman's rising temper, but finally, he was able to voice his growing suspicion. "We all know your father's bad habit of selling artifacts to the highest bidder. Maybe the apple does not fall far from the tree. You have to admit, the circumstances don't look good!"

Janice slowly inched her way toward Jonathan finally stopping when she was mere inches away from his body. "A few months ago, I had have knocked you so hard, you would have had trouble remembering your own name, but I know that physical violence at this moment would not help my case. But..." Grabbing Jonathan's arm in a vise-like grip she continued, "my father was one hell of an archaeologist." Jonathan tried to get his arm away from her, but to no avail. "And what he did was wrong, but he was only trying to get to the truth." She released her grip. "You got that." Jonathan shook her arm a couple of times to try to get the blood circulation going once again. "But you have to ask yourself this, why would I steal these artifacts, run the risk of going to jail when the scrolls, which are five times more valuable than these jars, are still out there?"

Professor Levy looked at Jonathan who was still nursing his arm. "She's right. I believe you, Janice."

Rebecca, trying hard to suppress a yawn, said, "So, what do we do now? Will they be back?"

"As soon as we find anything of value...yes. They figure that they did it once, they can do it again." Janice resumed her pacing. "We have to limit access to this tent. University faculty only. Workers that bring in any artifacts will be watched very carefully. Stavros, I need you to recruit some good, trustworthy men who are willing to go on night watch duty." Stavros nodded.

"Wait, the workers could be the culprits, and you're going to recruit them to watch the artifacts." Jonathan crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Isn't that just asking for trouble?"

"No, I trust Stavros' judgment."

"But who'll want to be on patrol duty when word spreads about how this man was knocked out cold." Rebecca stated questioningly.

"Because of this." She motioned at Stavros who, not missing a beat, took out his old, silverplated six shooter. "They'll be armed."

"This is crazy! Guns, raiders! I didn't come out here to die!" Madaline said looking frightened of the gun the older man was clutching.

"You wanted an adventure, Madaline. You're about to get one!" Janice said smiling at the look on her face.
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Carefully examining her smooth, steel of her bulldog revolver, Janice cocked it and made sure all the chambers were loaded before slipping it back into its leather holster comfortably resting on her hip while fingering her tightly coiled whip which hung on her other hip as she watched the early morning activity of the excavation through her slightly tipped weather-worn hat. The workers, looking rested and ready for another day of hard labor, gradually became a-buzz with the events of the prior evening. Although Janice understood Greek, she could only speak just enough to get by and get what she needed. Stavros had discreetly asked if anyone would be interested in patrolling the camp at night for extra wages, and a few of the younger men were interested and almost excited to help out. Janice's keen and honed senses were on high alert, focusing her attention on the excavation area near the riverbed. Stavros was busily keeping watch on area closer to the camp. Janice watched the men rhythmically removing dirt and chipping away at medium-sized rock deposits, but nothing so far had seemed even vaguely strange which made her even more cautious. A young man to her right was carefully brushing dirt off another water jug while an older man further down sifted through sediment looking for smaller, broken pieces.

She wondered how the thieves managed to make it into the camp, break into the crates and leave with several large pieces and all without being detected by anyone, including Janice herself. She cursed herself for letting something like this happen right underneath her nose. She was awake during the robbery, in Madaline's tent, but she had to admit to herself, her senses were not focused on anything except the lovely, young graduate student.

Madaline...Madaline....Madaline, her thoughts swirled to the previous night and what almost happened. The memory of the sensations that coursed through her body felt her feeling hollow. The physical response was there, but there was no emotion behind it. As if her heart and soul were suddenly disconnected from her body becoming two separate entities. A year ago, this would have suited Janice just fine, but now, she needed to feel something. She needed....she needed Mel and everyone else was just a poor substitute. Mel...everything comes back to her doesn't it. She could never get away from the one, singular constant, her love for someone she could never have. She reached into her back pocket and wrapped her fingers around the photograph that was always there, but she didn't pull it out. She knew she had to keep her mind off this for now. She had a mystery to solve.

Janice suddenly felt a warm finger lightly tracing the palm of her hand. A cold chill ran down her spine before she turned around swiftly to meet the smiling face of Madaline who now had her hand dangerously near Janice's backside.

"Good morning Doctor!" Madaline then placed her hands firmly behind her back in a mock soldier's stance, but still smiling wickedly. "I just wanted say hello in a way that I knew would grab your attention," her voice dropped and she closed what little distance there was between them, "but I could always grab something else if you want me to." Playfully, she ran a single finger down Janice's neck.

Janice clasped the roving digit between her fingers and moved it away before it could reach the top of her chest. "Thanks for the offer, sweetheart, but..." Looking around, she lead the taller woman to a more secluded area of the camp before letting go of her hand. "Madaline, I think that we should put an end to this." Madaline stepped away from Janice as if suddenly overcome by a wave of self-consciousness at what she had just done and said to the good doctor. "I've never been one to mix business with pleasure and I just think...you're a student! And I don't think that the University would be all to pleased to know a member of the senior staff, a person who could have a major influence on your future at said-university, was fooling around with a student. This doesn't mean that I didn't enjoy last night. I needed that, but I don't think I should be the one to interfere with your future."

Madaline's expression changed from one of slight shame to intense anger, her lips gradually curling into a smirk. "So noble of you, doctor. Saving me from yourself," she said with a biting sarcastic edge. "I wonder where this noble streak of yours was last night when you were tearing my clothes off. I guess your mind was otherwise occupied."

"Madaline, I'm sorry, but you're right. I wasn't thinking last night." Janice tried to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but she jerked her shoulder away. "I'm sorry." But before Janice could get another word out, Madaline's hand landed with fierce force against her cheek, sending her jaw in the opposite direction. She turned on her heels and walked off with an aura of victory. Janice held on to her jaw, opening and closing it a couple of times before shaking her head. The slap knocked some of the wind out of her system. For a very slim and feminine woman, Madaline sure had one hell of a backhand. Women, she thought to herself, but she also knew that she deserved it. She was using Madaline to get over another woman thousands of miles away hoping to forget the memory of Melinda's body by trying to lose herself in someone else's. Janice made a mental note never to pull the "noble act" on any woman again.
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The crew had taken their first break of the day coming as a welcome relief to the sweaty and strained men on the excavation sites. Today was hotter than most, unusual for this time of year, but not completely unexpected. Placing a cold, wet handkerchief underneath her dusty hat, Janice had just heard stasis reports from each of the senior university staff. All operations on site were normal and no one, herself included, had spotted anything out of the ordinary taking place on any of the excavation sectors. Three more water jugs were unearthed at the sector near the former river basin while the sector closest to the camp managed to remove more petrified wood and the remnants of looked to be a saddle, a find which had Professor Levy overjoyed. Janice walked around the outer camp and watched as her men ate and talked amongst themselves, laughing at bawdy jokes and gossiping about fellow workers. She sensed the familiar presence behind her. "So did you find out anything?"

Stavros moved forward and stared off in the same direction as the younger woman. "No one has seen or heard anything and if they did, they are not talking. Most of the men believe that no one among this crew was capable of such thievery. These are honest and good men, Janice, who are just trying to feed their families. They live by strict ethical and religious codes which forbid them from doing anything like stealing."

"Maybe so, but one of these could have inadvertently spilled the beans to someone who had the means and opportunity to do this. And now that we've found more items, I'm sure those son of bitches will be back...tonight, but I'm planning to be ready for them."

"You? By yourself! Are you crazy? These men are serious, Janice. They knocked out that guard last night because he was no serious threat, but if you come on the scene with your guns blazin' they'll probably kill you."

"Guns blazin', huh? Looks like Pop's language rubbed off on you. I've been in gunfights before, Stavros. I know how to handle myself. I've only got shot once...not even shot more like grazed. I'm one of the best aims this side of Athens and I've got another thing on my side, the element of surprise!" Stavros was about to protest, but Janice cut him off, "this is how it will happen and I don't want to hear another word, okay!"

"You can be just has hard-headed as your father was sometimes! And if you think you are going to do this alone, you are just as insane as he was too!" Stavros smiled and gave Janice a good-natured slap on the arm. "The men who have volunteered to guard the cleaning tent will be with you and so will I. I'm not one to be left out of a good gun fight, but I think you know that already." Stavros ran a hand over her face to wipe the excess perspiration that had settled on his forehead and upper lip. "But I must confess, I thought my gun fighting days were behind me." He smiled and walked toward the crew, speaking Greek and making jokes coupled with wild arm movements. Janice had to smile at her surrogate father. He was truly a work of art.
===========================
Janice scanned the area again, her eyes were beginning to strain, but she squinted making sure all details were mapped out in her mind's eye. She tried to imagine how this village looked thousands of years ago. Where would the homes be, the stables, the fields? How did this village survive and why did it suddenly one day cease to exist? They are questions Janice usually asked herself when on digs, but this time things were different. It was as if the answers to these unanswerable questions were on the tip of her tongue, as if she had visited this place once in a long forgotten dream or perhaps another lifetime.

Janice closed her eyes and concentrated on what she knew, the logical guesses she could make based on the area and sheer intuition and began to see a picture of what this place looked like a couple of millennium before. The images began to pass through her mind's eye and somehow, Janice knew they all were right. She knew this was far from the scientific accuracy her field demanded, but she continued her visions nonetheless. The single, dusty road through the middle of town, the small wooden, thatched roofed houses, the vaguely familiar faces that once populated this long-dead village. Janice finally felt the need to open her eyes and she was taken aback for a moment as the picture that had been in her mind suddenly existed outside of it. Her crew had disappeared. The camp, the dig, everything had disappeared and an eerie silently hung in the air. It was broken however by the sound of water rushing along...the river, Janice realized. She looked back up the narrow dusty road and started to walk. She suddenly smelled the aroma of baking bread and the sound of horses in the nearby stables. People walked along the long, dusty road and giving her odd looks as they passed her way. Janice could feel the hair on the back of her neck standing on its end as if some electrical, spiritual force suddenly made its way through her body. She took in her surroundings during this waking dream and wondered if her overactive imagination had suddenly sent her off the deep end.

As she continued to walk slowly down the road before her, she looked down her herself, as if suddenly aware that things on her body were a bit different as well. A short green top covered the upper half of her body...well, almost, and a pale orange skirt hung just above her knees, and her right hand was wrapped tightly around a wooden staff. Janice knew she should be excited, scared, or number of other emotions she had no real name for, but she was strangely calm. She found she was drawn to a young woman with black hair and blue eyes. Walking toward her, she smiled at the familiarity of her pinned-back hair and long, earth-toned skirt, and before she had a chance to think, a single name escaped her lips, "Lila?" Familiarity began to sink in, and Janice knew she was now just a silent observer to this world as her mind and body worked of their own accord, being guided by the long-dead spirit of the bard who called this town her home.

The young woman answered with a firm hug. "Gabrielle. It's been so long! I can't believe you are really here. You certainly have changed since the last time..."

"More than you'll ever know, Lila," she said somberly. Lila's brow looked at her older sister questioningly. "There are so many things I need to tell you."

"Isn't that what sisters are for?" Lila guided her by the hand to a small home just on the outskirts of town and as she felt her legs moving on their own accord, she looked around. Home was so foreign this time around. As she passed a certain house, she noticed an older woman weeping. Lila noticed her interest. "She hasn't stopped crying for two weeks. Seraphin ran off with a couple of the other village kids." Lila hesitated. "They joined a cult. She believes that she will never see her daughter alive again." She continued to silently watch the crying until she was well passed the home.

"Seraphin?" she repeated in a shocked whisper. "Seraphin?" Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder and immediately turned around to face the questioning face of Rebecca. The silence of the Potedaia was replaced by the noisy shouting of the excavation. The images, sounds and smells slowly melting away and returning to their home in the long forgotten past. Janice found herself back in the place she was when she closed her eyes. Her body felt like it had been through a fifty-mile race and her mind had a hard time finding focus as if someone else's thoughts were in momentary control. She looked around in a daze for a moment before grabbing her head and falling to the ground. She put her face in her hands and rubbed her eyes again and again with her sweaty fingers.

Professor Anderson tried to steady Janice's fall, but ended up dropping into the dirt right next to her. "Janice, are you all right? What's wrong?" she said as she offered the clearly disoriented doctor a drink from her canteen.

Janice happily accepted and took off her hat while deeply breathing in. "I don't know...I just...I was looking and I wasn't here...and..." She found it hard trying to place a full sentence together. Her mind was clearly having a hard time readjusting to its surroundings. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before handing back the canteen to Rebecca's waiting hands. Janice noticed the some of her workers had stopped their individual tasks and looked upon her with grave concern. She said shouted in Greek that she was fine which brought smiles to some of their faces.

"You still haven't answered my question. What's the matter? You look like you're about toss your cookies." Rebecca wrapped her hand around Janice's upper arm and lifted to her to her feet. She dusted off the hat that was still on the ground and handed it to her.

"I don't think you would believe me if I told you," she said before placing the hat back on her head.

"Try me," Rebecca said, rolling her eyes at the shorter archaeologist.

Janice looked at her stern-faced colleague and tried to make what she was about to say sound as rational as possible. "Do you believe in life after death?" Before Rebecca could answer, Janice continued. "That the soul goes somewhere, beyond this earthly realm. I thought that this was a bunch of bullshit a year ago, but I've witnessed too many things in the past few months that defy any sort of scientific explanation. I know what you've probably heard about the dig in Macedonia. I found some of the Xena Scrolls, but what I left out of all those published reports, dig records, was that I also spoke to Xena...her spirit anyway." Rebecca couldn't suppress a chuckle, but her laughing fit ceased when she saw the long on Janice's serious face. "I knew I couldn't let all those in the archaeology community find out about that little part of the story because I would have been dismissed as some loony, a crackpot no better than her old man. But I spoke with a long-dead warrior woman from Ancient Greece just like I'm talking to you right now. We had a conversation. And I learned something else too. I am a descent of Gabrielle, Xena's sidekick, the woman who probably wrote the scrolls, the woman whose village we are in right now. Sometimes, I can't help but feel like her soul, spirit, whatever you want to call it, is guiding me to something that is here, and I'm the only one who can find it." Janice finally let out a long breath before grinning. "And now you think I'm a complete nutcase, right?"

"No, but I'm beginning to wonder about my own sanity!" Rebecca looked around the site. "That's why you knew...you knew where this place was without ever having to look at a map. I just thought you were some complete genius or well researched. So, what just happened here when I found you?"

"I was taken back in time...well, not physically, but I was shown this village how it was in ancient times. I saw, smelled and heard everything vividly. I think I was actually in Gabrielle's body. This place was alive." Janice looked off toward the digging area near the camp. "That place over there was where the houses were." Janice gracefully pointed with her finger trying to remember everything in her mind's eye in exact detail. "The road curved there and led back into a wooded area back..." But before Janice could finish, she slowly started to walk toward the area she had moments ago pointed to.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca called from behind still trying to absorb and process everything Janice had just told her.

Janice said in a mumbled whisper, "I'm not sure," but not loud enough for anyone to hear except herself. Rebecca started to follow her anyway keeping two steps behind. "I'm not sure," she said again, but this time loud enough so that her colleague was able to hear. Janice slowly walked toward a familiar piece of land. She remembered it. After what had just taken place moments before, she was ready to throw all rational thought out of the window. Before she knew what she was doing, she broke into a run. She didn't know why, but her legs started to increase their speed until it seemed she was running for her life. With sweat pouring down her temples, Janice finally reached a small patch of land at the edge of the excavation site. This sector of the excavation had been suspended because no items had been found in almost three weeks of digging. Since the dig was small, everyone decided the manpower would better be spent at other more fruitful sectors where priceless artifacts had already been found. Grabbing a rusty shovel about three feet away, Janice lowered herself into the four foot hole with little regard for her own safety and started to dig as if her life depended on it.

Rebecca, who arrived only seconds after Janice, and watched in complete disbelief as she practically jumped into the four-foot hole. "Janice, what the hell is going on?"

"It's here, Rebecca. It's here. I can't explain," she said in between hard thrusts with the shovel. "I feel it."

"What? What's here?"

"The Scrolls. The journal!"

Professor Anderson looked off in the distance and saw most of the university crew running toward them. Some of the workers followed suit behind them, and Rebecca could only watch in slight amusement as she saw about fifteen people running at full throttle right at her. Professor Michaels was the first to reach her. His face displayed a multitude of emotions: panic, fear, hope, excitement but once he saw Janice in the four foot hole digging, his face turned into one, big question. "What's she doing?"

"She thinks she has pinpointed the location of the scrolls."

"Based on what? I see no sedimentary evidence that...."

Janice paused a moment to look above her at Jonathan who now seemed annoyed at having run such a long distance in such a short time. "Jonathan, would you shut that mouth of yours and help me out here! I think I found something." Professor Michaels looked below and saw Janice's shovel hit a hard surface several times producing a hollow sound that echoed. The rest of the university crew and most of the workers arrived to see Jonathan lowering himself into the trench.

Janice frantically dusted the surface off with her hands. Her muscles ached, her shirt was soaked with perspiration, and her lower back was practically exploding in pain, but her mind was elsewhere. This was it. She could feel it. Jonathan, always the scientist, began to talk aloud about this find. "Looks to be about three feet wide. Wood. It looks to be made of wood. I can feel the markings on the top." He looked above him to the excited faces of his fellow colleagues. "This could be it!"

Workers dropped into the hole and gathered around the two scientists trying to remove the excess dirt surrounding the large wooden box. Finally, enough sediment was removed to attempt opening the wooden lid. Time had worn the wood down turning it a gray-purplish color and gave the substance rock-hard quality, however, the wood could be easily destroyed if not handled properly. Janice rubbed her palms together and then wiped them on her pants. "I'm going in."

Professor Levy chimed in above their heads. "You can't. Proper procedure states that you must get the artifact out of the sediment before even attempting to open it. You might be destroying priceless items by exposing them to this sun. Janice, you can't..."

"To hell with procedure," she yelled. "I've waited for too long for this," she said to herself in a half-hushed whisper. Janice gently lifted the lid, but nothing happened. She tried once more, but to no avail. The lid was stuck. "Looks like the damn thing is stuck," she said in frustration. She tried to keep her composure, but finally slammed her fist into the ground.

"Janice, let's just get this thing to higher ground and we'll get it open," Rebecca finally said reassuringly.

"Let me take one more crack at it." She motioned for everyone to step aside and placed both hands on either side of the box. Grabbing hold of the bottom edge, she placed all of her strength into one final lift, and that is when she heard the click. The wood slowly began to move with a loud creaking sound, and Janice couldn't help but smile. She lifted slowly until the box top was completely separate from its bottom. Gently laying it at her side, Janice, Jonathan, the workers and everyone above them peered into the box. Janice could feel the blood rush through her body, and she could hear her heart beating in her ears. These moments extending into one, long eternity. As sweat rolled down her cheeks, she saw small pieces of tattered, light brown parchment amid the other items. "Scrolls!" she yelled. "The scrolls!" The collective breath all were holding in anticipation was let out in one massive yell. Hugs and handshakes were exchanged above ground, but Janice was lost in the sight of the piece of history sitting before her. Her hand moved items within the box until she came across a neatly folded piece of wood, perfectly preserved from the elements. Her fingers traced the lines and lifted out of the box. "Her staff." She quickly unfolded it and revealed the weapon to the others. "Gabrielle's staff." She laughed as she leaned on it. The staff feeling completely natural at her side. "This is it," was the only thing she could say as the others looked on.
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The overheated workers and a few excited archaeologists, under the unrelenting mid-day sun of Greece, managed to free the heavy, wooden box from the ground after more than an hour of careful chipping. One false move could have proved disastrous to such a large, delicate, and long buried artifact. Digging in other sectors virtually suspended as everyone waited in almost excited fear as the box was carefully lifted to the ground above. Once it was safely above, it was quickly and carefully taken to the cleaning tent for further investigation of its contents.

"Although the crate itself has been severely worn down by natural decomposition, you can still see the remnants of some beautiful engravings along its outer edges and on its lid." Rebecca continued in almost rapt fascination as she lightly fingered the box on its sides, but she spoke in her usual professional tone to the university staff in the tent. "Definitely from the period. Analyze of some of its markings by Madaline has revealed that this probably belonged to a peasant farmer, in keeping with the knowledge we have of Gabrielle's family from some of the other scrolls found. The contents are what one might expect to find in any normal family attic. Along with numerous fragments of colored cloth, the wooden staff in supreme condition, and several small, wooden figures, presumably toys, there are a number of small pieces of parchment with ancient writing, which Madaline is now trying to translate, about ten pieces in all. And now as you can see here there is...."

Janice was lost in thought. The markings on the parchment were part of that familiar syntax and in the same pattern, the same handwriting. This was it. This was Gabrielle's journal...or at the very least part of it. She wondered why her ancestor's journal was in so many pieces. Her stories, her thoughts and feelings lay scattered around Greece, hidden underneath billions of grains of sands, maybe destined to never see the light of day again. She wished she could detect some pattern, but it all seemed so random and until she found out exactly what was in this batch, there was no way to start developing one. Janice wiped her brow with the back of hand again, her overheated body trying to find some relief from the movement of hot air that constantly entered the tent. At least I'm not out there, she thought to herself as she crossed her arms over her chest, inhaled deeply and scanned the artifacts on the cleaning table until her eyes settled on the back of a blonde head of hair toward the side of the tent.

Madaline had her eyes focused on the task at hand, reference books were scattered upon the small table along with a tightly sealed canteen and a few unopened fountain pens. Her hand was beginning to ache, but she enjoyed this challenge. This dialect wasn't anything she hadn't seen before, and the almost perfectly preserved parchment made the task easier, even though some of the scrolls were torn and tattered. She came across a symbol she had a hard time placing. She looked at it for a few moments before flipping to one of the thick volumes to her right. "Child?" she whispered. She was swept up in thought and did not sense Janice looking over her shoulder.

"I still wanted to say I'm sorry," she said into Madaline's ear, which made the young woman jump forward.

"For what? Oh, uhm Doctor, I want to apologize for hitting you. I just...I was angry I guess."

"Listen, I deserved it. Besides, it's not like I haven't been smacked around before. Just didn't expect to be by a beautiful woman. Don't worry about it." Janice squatted next to the table and whispered, "so what have you got?"

"Ah, nothing much. Like I told you before, this type of syntax is not what I'm used to be I'm sure I'll have something for you soon. I just need some more time to familiarize myself with the grammatical patterns."

Janice nodded and patted her hand lightly. "You just keep at it. I have faith in you." She walked away to join the other university members at the other edge of the tent.

Madaline wiped her face with a silk handkerchief from her breast pocket before her eyes rested on the parchment in front of her once again. Thoughts swirled in her mind, before she dared to whisper aloud, but only to herself, one phrase that seemed oddly familiar, "Child of darkness."
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Dusk was slowly descending on the camp, turning the sky a brilliant orange and gray. Streaks of dimming sunlight fought to make their way through large, white clouds. The light patterns they created fell to the sky in perfect triangular patterns. It was said this was one of the inspirations for the building of the pyramids in Ancient Egypt. The activity of the excavation sectors slowly started to dissipate as the men slowly gathered at the trucks to be taken back into town. Janice watched as silence settled along with the darkness. The sky reminded her of those nights watching the sun set in Charleston. She laughed at herself. I'm thinking about it as if it were a lifetime ago, she thought to herself.

The thoughts of the past had been gradually creeping up on her all day. While watching Madaline do her work, she could not help imagine Mel's deep, azure eyes beneath the black frames looking over the pages of a reference book. The way her wrists moved along when writing something down and how her hair always cascaded toward her face while deep in thought over a certain phrase of ancient writing. But she forced her memories back into the recess of her mind, behind the wall she had built the moment she left American soil a month ago. She forced herself back to into reality of the moment, but that had no effect on the particular hollowness coupled with the deep aching in the pit of her stomach she always felt when her thoughts turned to Melinda Pappas.

Some bronze-skinned workers waved at Janice and said good-bye in Greek as they passed the cleaning tent. Tipping her hat, she responded to each of them, thanking them for another hard day's work. Stavros stood near the trucks at the dirt road leading to the main road, and made sure everyone was loaded in safely and ready to go. He waved at all of them, yelling loudly in Greek before turning back and walking back toward the cleaning tent with five young men at his side. Janice realized that these were the men who were going to patrol the camp at night. Most looked to be about her age and younger, but all stood more than six feet tall, she guessed. She nodded to each of them as they entered the cleaning tent and padded Stavros on the back as she entered in after him.

After formal introductions, both Janice and Stavros instructed the men to their respective duties during their night duty, and they all stated that they knew how to use the revolvers each was given. Tucking them into their holsters, they were told to alert Stavros or Janice at any hint of trouble. The guns were the absolute last resort. They all nodded as they exited the tent.

"We are in for it tonight, aren't we?" Rebecca said with a grim realization. "Now that we've found this," she said pointing to the table now populated with perfectly preserved artifacts, "I don't see how the raiders could resist."

"Oh, we'll make sure they resist even if I have to do some persuading with my little friend here," Janice said as she rested her hand on the gun. "I don't think they'd be stupid enough to risk losing their lives over a couple of pieces of paper and some cloth." Janice knew otherwise, but she felt she had to lie to protect those in the group less experienced in handling raiders than she was. She knew that these men, whoever they were, would probably stop at nothing, hurt anyone who got in their way and probably kill without hesitation to get their hands on these items. "Just don't worry about it. All of you. Just leave it up to Stavros and I. We've handled people like this before and we can handle them again." She then gave Stavros a glance before giving a reassuring smile to everyone in the group.

The cleaning tent came alive with a mini-celebration a little after sunset. The dig-site had become silent except for the occasional soft footfall of one of the workers making his assigned rounds. Professor Michaels had managed to get a case of cheap beer from a small town twenty miles away. The beer was only slightly chilled, but everyone happily raised their bottles in a mock toast. "This stuff tastes awful," Jonathan said after one long swallow.

"Well, Greek beer is an acquired taste," Janice said taking another long chug. "Has a bit of a kick to it." She pushed some stray locks of hair back under her hat before reaching for a small cigar in her pants pocket. She lit it and slowly let the smoke escape from the side of her mouth. She loved to look at the faces of the colleagues. She didn't think anyone of them had gotten used to the site of her smoking with unrestrained abandon.

Professor Levy took a small sip of the beer and coughed before attempting to speak. "Before we continue this little celebration, let me remind everyone that we do have a dig to tend to tomorrow so please don't indulge in too much of this...beer."

Professor Anderson laughed, "the way this stuff tastes, I don't think that will be a problem."

Professor Levy continued, "and before we turn in for the night, I would like to hear a progress report from Ms. Rosa. And some suggestions on how we should handle worker distribution now that new sectors of this excavation site have yielded valuable artifacts."

Janice looked over toward Madaline whose hair was matted against her cheeks, sweat still rolling in drops against her pale skin. Now that the sun was gone, the temperature in the area would start to drop eventually getting cold enough for Janice to don her leather bomber jacket. Madaline held the beer bottle tightly around its neck, but she had not yet taken a taste. Janice thought that maybe the stress of the dig was finally getting to the young graduate student. Taking another long swallow and a deep puff of her cigar, she walked toward the blonde who sat nervously on a small stool near the edge of the tent. "What's the matter? You don't drink?"

"Not really. Don't like the taste." She placed the bottle on the ground and dried her hands on her shorts. "I just don't like what it does to my body, my mind. I like to keep clarity."

Janice smiled. "Kid, don't be nervous about all this. Martin...Professor Levy just wants to know what you've found. It's all right if you don't have all the answers. No one expects you to have these things translated in one day." Madaline nodded and ran her hands through her hair. "Just tell 'em what you think. That's all."
===========================
"As I think I told most you before, I'm not familiar with this particular dialect. My expertise is in dialects in the Southern part of Greece, but from my preliminary analysis of the scrolls, they indeed seem to be in keeping, from what Janice has told me, with the patterns of the bard Gabrielle, who was Xena's companion in her travels. And this does appear to be pieces of her journal, ten pieces in all. I cannot as yet give an educated guess as to the time frame these were written in, but they seem to be when Gabrielle was in her early twenties. She writes in a familiar tone using what appears to be what we would call slang, colloquialisms, which would support the journal hypothesis." Madaline breathed in and paused seeming to redirect her thoughts. "However, there seems to be a narrative throughout each of the scrolls, coupled with thoughts and asides. The one in which I've done the most work with seems to tell of one particular journey Xena and Gabrielle took to what is now present day England."

Professor Michaels looked around in the tent to his colleagues for answers before he voiced their disbelief. "England? I thought that..."

Janice chimed in. "Xena and Gabrielle were known as travelers, but I thought they limited their journeys to areas around Greece. Egypt, Persia, Sumeria, but I..."

Madaline continued, "In the text, it is referred to by its more ancient name, Britannia. Although there are still long segments of text I have yet to decipher, it speaks of a great battle between Xena, another woman warrior and a great military leader. I have yet to figure out his name. However, as the story continues, Gabrielle speaks of a great trauma at the hands of great evil. A god of evil." Madaline put her notes back on the desk. "I know this is vague, but I can't get more specific until I figure out some of these grammatical patterns."

"Is there anything else?" Rebecca said while still absently holding a half-empty bottle of beer in her hand.

"Although the end part of this scroll is not as well-preserved as the other rest, I was able to decipher a few words." Madaline took a deep breath. "Apparently while still in Britannia, Gabrielle realized she was with child."

Suddenly, Janice was overcome with a sudden wave of loss, sorrow, sadness and intense anger. As if remembering the bits of a long forgotten dream, images flashed across her mind's eye. Staring into the eyes of someone who looked exactly like herself, but seeing only evil within those eyes, into that soul. Janice steadied herself by leaning her back against the long, solid, smooth tent pole. She closed her eyes and saw fire. And before she knew what she was saying, one name escaped her lips, "Hope!" Everyone in the tent turned to look at Janice.

Professor Levy looked puzzled. "Hope? Janice, are you feeling well? You don't look so good."

Picking up her cigar that had fallen out of her mouth during her unsteadiness, Janice said, "No, I'm fine. It's just that...." She glanced over at Rebecca who wore a look of concern. "Sorry. I was just somewhere else for a minute."

Professor Levy accepted Janice's explanation and redirected his gaze toward Madaline. "Thank you, Ms. Rosa. I'm sure with a bit more time, you will be able to provide us with more detailed analysis."

Rebecca quickly walked over to Janice and rested a hand on her shoulder. "Did it happen again?"

"Sort of." She rolled the small cigar between her hands and put it back in her mouth. "Her daughter. There is something about her...I get this feeling. I can't describe it, but her name was Hope. I'm sure of it."

The feelings associated with Gabrielle's child hung in Janice for a long while after Madaline's discussion of the scroll content. Janice still had a hard time rectifying feelings,
memories, and thoughts that we not her own. Although it should seem unnatural to have such thoughts and feelings invade one's body, Janice realized that it seemed completely natural.

The evening wore on and the coldness set in. Encased in the warm leather of her soft brown bomber jacket, Janice could not feel its effects. Instead, she focused her attention on the tent perimeter. The darkness outside the tent increased until soon it was pitch black. A person not used to such a sight might find it a bit frightening to find themselves surrounded by black on all sides, but Janice was used to it. She even thought her eyes had trained themselves to see in this darkness, but she still used a large lantern to get around. Lanterns were placed on the outside on every tent, but they only illuminated up to a certain distance. The university staff had all retired to their respective tents. Each confident in the knowledge that they would be safe and sound come morning. Rebecca was still worried about Janice, but after she was reassured by some stern words, the issue was dropped. She heard the familiar footfall behind her. "Stavros, anything?"

"Nope, nothing. But we'll still be ready for anything. The night is still young."

Janice brought the soft light of the lantern's glow up toward her watch. "It's almost midnight," she whispered. "How are the men holding up?"

"They're sleeping in shifts. Two are patrolling the cleaning tent area now. The third is up by the dirt road. He should let us if there is any sign of anyone coming up the road."

Janice yawned. The day was beginning to catch up with her. Her lower back ached from all the hard shoveling she did while unearthing the large box. She made a mental note to stretch before she decided to undertake intense physical labor. "Janice, why don't you go take a nap? I can handle things for a while. Then, you can relieve me."

"No, it's all right. I'm been fine." Stavros did not want to press the issue. He knew how stubborn Janice could be. Just like her father, he thought.
===========================
He closed his eyes for a moment before he shook himself back into consciousness. He had been sitting at his post for almost two hours. Boredom had long left him, but now he was consumed by the overwhelming need to sleep. He knew however he would not be relieved for at least another hour. He positioned himself right near the beginning of the dirt road, beside a large, green bush that had survived the harsh winter. Looking out onto the road, he saw nothing...just blackness. The only light came from the small, gas-powered lantern that sat beside him. The sky was also black. No moon in sight. The stars however were out in full force. He had grown tired of looking up at the sky however. He instead now focused his attention on the revolver in his hand. He was taught to use a gun like this by his father to run off the human and animal vermin who made off with some of their valuable harvest. He opened the chamber and spun it around before clicking it back. He playfully aimed at a rock on the ground. He cocked the gun and his finger lightly touched the trigger, but he uncocked it and let it rest loosely in his hand again. At least he was making some extra money, he thought to himself. His family could use the extra money for fertilizer and some new equipment. Perhaps, he could even save up enough money from this job to marry his sweetheart. He had always wanted to give her a nice, big wedding. He smiled as her image entered his mind, but it soon disappeared when he heard a branch break off in the distance, up the road. He quickly rose from his sitting position and tired to hold the lantern toward the noise. The light, however, failed to reach the area that the noise had come from. He calmly asked if there was anyone out there. There was no answer. The road however became almost too quiet. He tightened his grip on the revolver and heard the turning and click as his finger reflexively cocked the gun. He knew he should probably head back toward the camp to get help, but he calmly walked toward the noise calling into the darkness again. He slowly lifted the gun infront of him when there was no answer. As he continued walking further up the road, the air on the back of his neck stood up, and even though the night was cool, beads of sweat began to pour down his face. He now sensed there was something there. Suddenly, he felt that there was something behind him. He turned around and screamed. Pain shot through his body. And there was darkness again.

Janice stood up. She heard something. She tapped Stavros on the shoulder. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn't asleep. "Did you hear that?"

"What? I didn't hear anything," he said crossing his arms over his chest.

"Stavros, I heard something. Over there near the road," she pointed into the darkness. "Isn't a guard over there?"

"Yes, but I'm sure if something happened he would have come back..."

Janice checked her gun tucking back into its holster, "unless something happened to him." She reached into her tent and grabbed a small flashlight resting on the table near the entrance. "Stay here. I'll be right back." Before he could argue, she walked into the darkness until she disappeared completely.

Janice could see the tall line of trees that marked the beginning of the dirt road a couple of meters in front of her, but she had to squint to make sure she was heading in the right direction. Taking her gun out of her holster, something inside of her told her she wasn't going to like what she was going to find once she got there. Her flashlight illuminated the beginning of the road, but there was no one in sight. She thought about calling out into the darkness, but something told her not to. She turned off her flashlight and began to walk up the dirt road with only her keen senses to guide her. She looked around in the pitch-black night to see if she could detect the slightest hint of movement, but she couldn't. Everything was still, but the missing patrolman made this stillness suspect.

She walked passed a small bush and paused. About ten yards away, she detected the faint glow of a small lantern sitting on the ground. Cautiously, she ran toward the light. Once she reached it, she bent over to pick it up, but paused in the squatting position when she realized that there were red droplets making a trail toward the forest. "Blood," she whispered. Cocking her gun and clicking on her flashlight, she followed the trail, until she came across a large and fresh bloodstain in a patch of grass. The trail then disappeared. She now knew they were in trouble.

Her flashlight caught a metallic object's reflection as she swept the small, grassy area. She reached over and picked up the cocked revolver. She checked the chambers. No bullets were missing. Clicking it closed, her ears picked up the faint noise up the road. She tucked the gun behind her in her pants waistband and ran behind a tree. The noise grew louder and it was definitely coming up the road. Car engines, she thought. She thought about making a run for the camp, but she knew she would never make it without being caught in the car's headlights. She thought about running through the forest, but dismissed it quickly. How far could she get running through a dense forest in complete darkness? The raiders would have probably gotten away once she reached the camp. She cursed herself for leaving the camp. She knew her colleagues were in grave danger. These raiders had killed one person already. She knew there was nothing stopping them for killing again.

Three jeeps stopped one in back of the other, on the side of the road, about fifty yards before the start of the road and about ten yards away from where Janice was hiding. She could not see anything from her vantagepoint so she decided to crawl behind a bush near the edge of the road. She watched as about ten men unloaded from their respective jeeps, and she cursed inwardly when she saw each had a rifle in their hands. They began to talk in a language Janice was unfamiliar with which was surprising considering she was familiar with so many. Their apparent leader spoke in a softly, only slightly above a whisper. Pointing at three of the men, his tone changed. He motioned for the rest of the men to follow him and after a few moments, they disappeared into the darkness. She knew she had only one choice to get out of this alive. She had to fight. Guns ablazin' indeed, she thought.

Janice laid motionless for what seemed like an eternity as she watched the three men move about around the jeeps. Two of them laughed deeply before one of them lit a cigarette. Waving the match in the air, he threw it into the grass landing a few inches in front of Janice's face. The third man walked slowly toward Janice. Her heart started to beat faster as he approached, but he stopped a few feet to her left. She heard the distinct sound of a zipper followed by the unmistakable sound of.... She knew this was her chance. Hitting a man while his pants were down. Janice looked over to see the other men were carrying on by themselves, their attention focused elsewhere. Slowly and as silently as possible, she crawled over toward the taller, muscled man. His eyes were closed and his head was thrown back. Seizing opportunity, Janice rose from the ground, grabbed the man's shirt and pulled him into the darkness. He only had the time to let out a low yell before she covered his mouth with one hand and hit him in the back of the head with the butt of her gun. She looked over to the other men who were still distracted, apparently not hearing his yell. Janice grabbed the rifle from around his body and put it around her own. Three guns, she thought to herself. That should definitely come in handy.

Janice emerged from the darkness and onto the dirt road. The men were in front of her and having a conversation. Occasionally, a fit of laughter would break the quiet of the forest. She smiled at having the three dumbest raiders guarding the jeeps. She could only pray that the others were as easy to pick off as this one was. Although she highly doubted that. Walking toward them, they were still carrying on by themselves completely unaware that their colleague was taking a really long bathroom break. Janice readied the rifle by positioning it under her arm and placing her finger on its trigger. She watched as her targets got closer and closer until she was right behind them. Her foot took one more step and stepped right on a twig that made a loud snapping noise. Janice quickly ducked behind the middle jeep and cursed her luck. The men had now stopped talking and she knew they were walking toward her to investigate. One of the men mumbled something and the other one mumbled something in return. Adrenaline started to rush through her body, and she moved in a position to intercept the two men as they came toward her. She squatted on the ground and saw a shiny, limestone rock on the ground. She picked it up and threw it in their direction hoping to send them down a wrong path. It landed with a bounce on the ground making the men stop in their tracks. One of them waved in a direction toward the tree line and Janice knew this was it. She ducked around the side of the jeep using it as a shield. The men walked directly in front of the jeep, heading toward the tree line. She walked up behind them hitting each one in the back of the head with the butt of the rifle. "Say good-night boys," she said after each one fell with a hard thud on the road. Taking their rifles, Janice then dragged each one into the forest brush. Walking further up the road, she tossed their rifles, minus their bullets, into the tree line. She stuffed the extra bullets into her jacket pocket and hoped that the men would be out for at least a half an hour.

Walking back up the road toward the camp, Janice gave the three jeeps a good once over. The vehicles looked brand new and there were large crates in each of the trunk compartments. She looked for weapons of any kind, but could find none. She finally came upon the last jeep and the one closest to the camp. As she peered inside, a crackling sound caught her attention. A short-wave radio. She checked her inside pocket for her flashlight, but then realized she left it on the forest ground. Her hands finally rested on her matches. With this source of light, Janice picked up the radio microphone and dialed toward a higher frequency. She prayed that someone would hear this. Taking a deep breath, she spoke softly in English, "this is a distress call from the University of South Carolina excavation dig team near the Southern town of Pagulous. We are being raided. Please send help immediately. They have killed one person already. Repeat this is a distress call." She cleared her throat and started the message over again, but this time in Greek. She knew she had gotten a few words wrong, but she hoped that it didn't matter. She put the match out after it began to burn her fingers and then placed the microphone back on the radio. Satisfied with the message, Janice placed the rifle around her shoulder, the strap fitting snugly around her body and decided to make a run toward the camp.

As soon as she could see the dim, ghostly lights of the lanterns, she stopped. Breathing heavily, she gulped in the air and briskly walked, ready for anything. She noticed that no one was around. As she approached, she noticed that all the tents were illuminated from the inside as well. She prayed that they had not harmed anyone. With the rifle now firmly in the firing position, she walked up toward the camp hoping that everything would turn out all right.

Suddenly, Janice felt a hand around her mouth. She struggled as she was being drawn down into one of the smaller excavation pits. She quickly calmed down however when she smelled the familiar scent of Stavros. "Thank god you are okay girl!" He soundly embraced the young woman who embraced back. "I was thinking the worst."

"Forget about me. What about you? The others? Did they get away?"

"No, they have them. They are all in the cleaning tent. Right now, I think they are searching it and your tent and the other's tents."

"My tent?" Janice said curiously. What the hell were these guys up to, she thought. "How did you get away?"

"I didn't. What you think one old man with a gun is any match for eight guys with rifles? You're as crazy as your father!" He laughed. "I was beginning to worry about you. I didn't like the feeling I was getting so I started after you, but then I heard voices coming up from the road. I thought that maybe it was you and the guard, but then I heard the language and I knew it was trouble. So I got into one of these holes hoping they would just walk by and they did. I observed them talking and gathering the others up. I know no one is dead because I haven't heard any gunfire."

"So have you come up with a plan to get us out of the hole we're in?" Janice said grinning at the older man.

Stavros padded Janice on her shoulder. "I think you know the plan," he said calmly taking his gun from its holster and cocking it. Janice knew what she had to do.
===========================
Janice cursed the moonless night above. She could only make out vague shapes and figures in the campsite a couple of hundred feet away through the dim lights of the gas-powered lanterns. Her ears, however, were alert and ready to pick up any sound that may happen to drift her way. Stavros crouched beside her and whispered that the eight men were split up. He pointed over to a single men apparently standing guard outside of Janice's tent, and another single guard standing watch just outside the cleaning tent leaving six men unaccounted for who could be anywhere in the camp. Janice kept her eyes peeled for the leader, but she found it hard to make any faces out in the murky darkness. "There's got to be at least two guards in the cleaning tent," Janice said softly, "they have to watch over their six hostages, right? That leaves four men unaccounted for." She swallowed. "I just hope everyone is okay." Janice heard movement coming from the cleaning tent. A single man emerged and was talking to the guard. She knew this had to be the leader. It was same voice she had heard over by the trucks. His rifle hung around his shoulder turned downward toward his boots and his broad shoulders were set straight and high against the rest of his body. He seemed like an imposing figure, but Janice rationalized that it was because she was four feet in the ground below the earth. A man emerged from the illuminated tent with a figure. Janice strained her eyes to see if she could identify the figure, and when she finally did, a sense of panic raced through her body. "Madaline," she said to herself. She had her hands tied infront of her body and before another thought could race through her mind, the leader put his hand on her upper arm and lead her toward the back of the camp. Janice now knew she had to act and fast.

Checking her gun one more time, Janice put it back into its holster and made sure the one tucked into her pant's waistband behind her was also loaded. The rifle she had stolen was settled near her thigh. As she picked it up, she motioned from Stavros to follow her. Walking slowly through the large hole, she stopped when they were furthest from the illumination of the lanterns. She whispered, "we have to get rid off all the guards before we can help anyone. Before we can help Madaline. He won't do anything to her. He's probably trying to get information from her about the new artifacts." She hoped! "My tent." She cocked her head to the side and motioned toward the direction of her tent. "We hit it first and make our way to the cleaning tent. Once we free them, you take them toward the road. I sent out a distress call. Hopefully, help has arrived by then. If not, take their jeeps and get out of here. I'll follow after you in my truck just as soon as I get her back and I've made sure all these bastard regret the moment they stepped into this camp." She smiled. "And don't even waste your time trying to talk me out of it. You know someone has to cover you."

"Just be careful," Stavros said putting a reassuring hand on her arm.

"Always." Drawing her gun from its holster, Janice lifted herself out of the hole. Stavros followed, and no one seemed to have heard anything. She walked slowly toward the edge of the camp, ducking behind mounds of dirt the workers had removed from the earth. She checked behind her to see if Stavros was keeping up. Now a few feet from the guard outside of her tent, she decided to see if the trick she used with the other men would work this time. Picking up a rock from the ground, she tossed it toward the outer edge of the camp. The guard jerked and pointed his rifle in the direction of the noise, but he did not move from his post. Instead, he ducked his head inside the tent and called for another man who promptly came out with his rifle in the firing position. The tall, thin man slowly walked toward the noise while the guard watched him for any sign of trouble, never leaving his position in front of the tent. Janice knew that she had to somehow lure the guard from his position as well. The thin man walked right passed the mound of dirt Janice and Stavros were hiding behind. They were safely hidden in shadow. The man turned around toward the guard and laughed. Janice imagined he was telling him that the noise must have been an animal. He lowered his weapon, and Janice knew this was. As he began to walk back, she emerged from the ground and in one swift motion; she grabbed the guard, put a hand over his mouth and dragged him into the dirt. She punched him once in the face before hitting him hard against his temple with her revolver. Stavros grabbed his weapon, and Janice watched as the other man stopped laughing and began to move toward them. In a frightened whisper, the guard seemed to be calling the man's name. When there was no response, he got his weapon ready and aimed into the darkness. As the guard walked passed the mound, she quickly rose and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and was met by an elbow to the face as a rifle butt smacked against his head. Stavros watched as the man dropped and took his weapon immediately, removing all the bullets before tossing the rifle away.

Janice and Stavros dragged the bodies behind her tent, and deposited them one on top of another before daring to look inside the tent. Janice smiled when she saw one lone man kneeling on the ground and going through one of her cargo boxes. His rifle was resting against Janice's cot. She then casually entered her tent startling the young looking man, but he didn't move when he saw a gun pointed at his head. She motioned for him to get up, but as he did, his hand made a grab for his rifle. Janice's reflexes took over as she grabbed her whip and with a loud snap, the young man's hand was wrapped tightly around the shiny leather. He looked up in surprise. Tugging on the whip, she dragged him toward her and with one swing of her hand, her revolver knocked him into unconsciousness.

Once the bodies were tied tightly together with some twine rope Janice found in her tent, they moved slowly toward the cleaning tent and Janice now felt the adrenaline start to rush through her body again. Although it was a cool night, sweat was clinging to her face in large beads. The reality of the situation suddenly hit her full force. If something went wrong inside this tent, she could be responsible for the death of a member of her crew. She swallowed and pushed the thought out of her mind as she tried regain intense focus on the mission at hand. She looked behind her again, and saw that Stavros, holding the guard's rifle, winked at her. They moved behind the tent and lifted the bottom flap. Unlike the tents they called their homes, this tent was not secured on all sides. There were places were the tent material was loose and could be lifted.

Janice motioned for Stavros to stay put and crawled slowly into the cleaning tent and found herself right behind some of the large crates. Her eyes adjusted to the rush of bright light within the tent while she heard the sound of men talking and laughing. Lifting her head, she could see two men on either side of the tent exchanging a good laugh. Janice did not want to lift her head more for fear that she might be seen, but she knew that the hostages were probably sitting on the floor between them. She ducked her head back down and tried to come up with a plan. There were only three men left, not counting the leader who was still somewhere in the camp with Madaline. They would have to take care of the guard outside once these guys were taken care of. Somehow, Janice did not like these odds. She held the rifle tightly in her hand as she continued to think. Finally, she decided that the direct approach was probably the way to go.

Putting the rifle back around her shoulder, Janice removed her revolver from its holster and leaned forward to remove the one tucked in the back of her pants. Slowly cocking them both, she prayed that the two guards would not hear, and thankfully their conversation did not cease at the low clicking noise. Janice breathed in again and walked around to the front of the crates. In one swift motion, she had both guns leveled at the two men on the opposite sides of the room. Startled, the men knew that she had them right where she wanted them. She motioned for them to put their weapons down. As they both did, a noise came from the tent's entrance, and without warning, the guard appeared, but Janice was soon overcome by a wave of relief as she saw Stavros right behind him with the rifle planted firmly in the man's back. Janice now refocused her attention on her colleagues who were all huddled on the floor together along with the two young patrol guards. They were all tied together and gagged, but Janice couldn't help but smile when she realized that they were all unharmed. But just to make sure, she said, "Are you all right?" They all nodded. Janice turned her attention back to the three guards who were all now on the right side of the tent with their hands up in the air. She tucked the gun back in her pants waistband and her gun back into its holster as she knelt down to ungag all of the university staff.

Professor Levy shook the gag off and said, "Are we glad to see you? But one of them has taken Madaline away. She's in danger."

Janice nodded and continued to remove everyone's gags until all were free to talk. "I know. I saw her, but she's safe. I assume he took her away to get some information out of her. He won't harm her. I hope..." Her voice trailed off. She untied the knots holding the rope together, and continued to speak. "You are going to have to get out of here...fast. Just follow Stavros to the road. Help is on its way."

Rebecca voiced the others concern. "You're staying, but...it's dangerous!"

"I need to know that Madaline is all right. I'll be okay." Janice took out her gun again, and aimed it at the guards who were now kneeling on the ground. Handing the rope to Stavros, he quickly tied them together and rose. He motioned for the others to follow him, but before he left the tent, he smiled at Janice. She knew that he was just trying to reassure her. She smiled back, and he and others disappeared out of the tent.

"So boys, your boss is still missing with a member of my crew, and I'm not going to leave without her, but I hope you don't feel bad about missing the whole thing." She knocked each one out with one hit to the back of the head. "I'd knew you guys would understand," she said as she stared down at the unconscious men.

Janice removed the rifle from around her shoulders and dropped it to the floor. In this moment of quiet, the reality of the events that occurred during the past hour clearly came into focus. She could have been killed. She could have lead to the death of others, but she knew she was not out of the woods yet. Madaline was somewhere in this camp and she may be in danger. Suddenly, Janice heard footsteps coming up toward the tent opening. Instinctively, Janice cocked her gun and moved to the side of the tent's opening. She saw Madaline, bound at the wrist, being shoved into the tent followed by the tall, well-built leader. Before he could react to the empty cleaning tent, Janice swung at him full force with the gun and connected with the left side of his head, but instead of knocking him out, he simply turned around toward her. Janice realized much to her horror that this man was going to be hard to bring down. Wasting no time, Janice quickly put the gun back into her holster and slammed her entire body into him, knocking him to the ground, sending his rifle flying toward the other side of the room, and pinning him under her. Janice turned to Madaline, who looked surprised and frightened, and shouted, "run to the road. Get out of here! NOW!" Madaline hesitated for a few moments, but took off running full throttle through the tent flap.

Janice returned her attention back to large man underneath her who struggled and unleashed a punch straight to her stomach. Janice felt her entire body jolt with pain before she was able to send one punch straight to his face, but this did nothing to slow him down. He finally tossed her off of him and he dove for the rifle, but before he could get his hands firmly on it, Janice had her revolver squarely pointed at his head. He paused and removed his hands from the rifle lifting them above his head. He rose slowly and turned around. His nose was bleeding, but that didn't seem to bother him, instead his eyes were focused exclusively on Janice. She moved around him, her eyes never leaving his form. She kicked the rifle away from him and motioned for him to walk in front of her. He walked a few paces before suddenly stopping. She yelled, "move!" But he quickly turned his body around, his foot connecting with Janice's revolver, tossing it on the floor. Never looking back, the raider's leader ran out of the tent toward the road. Janice shook her hand out, picked up the gun on the floor with the other hand and ran out to follow him.

With her gun fully drawn, she ran into the darkness and hoped that things would turn out all right. As she ran, she saw a form in front of her. She yelled from him to stop and fired a single shot into the air. He stopped in his tracks and again put his hands up in the air. Janice now realized that they were only about thirty yards away from the beginning of the road. She could see the treeline above his head, but his features were lost and he was only one dark mass. She walked toward him.

The man, with dark complexion, military style dress and black motorcycle boots much like the pair Janice was wearing, slowly turned around and said in a lightly accented voice, "I'm not going to fight you anymore, Doctor Covington."

Janice smirked. "Well, that's good for you then. I wouldn't want to have to break your jaw. What the hell do you want from me?" He shrugged. "I want to know what is so valuable that you would kill an innocent man for."

"I've never killed anyone!"

Janice cocked her gun. "I'm suppose to believe that."

"Look within for the real evil, Doctor Covington. Evil always lies within the confines of the familiar." He stepped toward her with his arms still in the air.

Janice looked into his eyes and saw only sincerity. She quietly thought about his words, but she quickly blinked twice, dismissing these thoughts from her mind, and continued to hold the gun at his chest. Suddenly, Stavros emerged from the darkness calling Janice's name. A momentary distraction was all the leader needed and before she could do anything, the man removed a gun from his pants leg and held it firmly to Stavros' head.

"Drop the gun Doctor or the man dies!" Without thought or hesitation, Janice tossed the gun at the man's feet and now it was her turn to hold her hands in the air. "Heed my warning Doctor Covington. All this has a purpose, but as yet cannot see, but you will. I want to know where the stone is. I know you found it. I want it."

"Stone?"

"Yes, the sacred stone of the One God. You have found it...as it was written."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't play games with me Doctor Covington. I don't like to be played with. Now," he pressed the gun into Stavros' head. "Where is it!"

"It's in my tent. In one of my suitcases. I'll give it to you. Just don't hurt anyone." Janice realized that she could end all of this right now. A single shot from the gun still in her pants waistband could bring this whole night to an end. All of a sudden, Janice heard the unmistakable sound of an approaching car engine breaking the almost calming silence of the camp. A wave of something washed over Janice's body from a source she could not yet see. She swallowed and knew the evening was probably just getting started.