"It's an epitaph used in the Pandora myth. The beautiful woman releasing the plague on mankind." Mel shifted uncomfortably letting her arms fall haphazardly at her sides when she realized all eyes were on her. She swallowed, heat now rising to her pale cheeks. "Opening the jar out of curiosity, but unable to stop what she has unleashed sealing the fate of humanity and bringing the curse of death."

Professor Levy leaned forward, his arms crossing his chest, as he stated, "hope survives though." Running a single hand through his gray streaked hair, he gripped his chin as he continued. "She closed the lid before it could escape."

"What does it mean?" Jonathan said with a slight hint of impatience, his pale eyes registering frustration.

"Perhaps its a translation of the Pandora story," Rebecca said, her tired face littered with streaks of dirt and grime from a day of "trench duty," as it was called by the university crew, helping some of the workers in the northern sector of the site.

"But why are the only Greek words on the entire stone 'beautiful evil.' I don't know what to make of it." Professor Levy bent forward placing his elbows on his knees and his thumbs against his lips thoughtfully, his thick eyebrows coming together accenting the deep lines of his forehead born of years of such questioning.

Jonathan moved toward the piece to look at it again. "The writer wanted to emphasis the point," he said absently.

Rebecca blew air out of her mouth underscoring her lack of ideas. "Maybe its a warning? Maybe there's a danger in this stone none of us are seeing."

Jonathan rolled his eyes before shaking his head. "Danger? If you say the word curse, so help me god..."

"I've seen crazier things in my time," Janice said calmly shrugging her shoulders.

"I think its the key," the room fell silent as Mel's clear and accented voice pervaded the tent walls.

"The key," Martin said questioningly.

"To deciphering the stone. The only Greek words on a tablet in some unknown dialect. They must serve some purpose. Just call it a theory."

Intrigued, Martin rose from his seat and paced; something he liked to do when he was deep in thought. "No..no. I see. But how? But why these two words?"

"I'm not sure," Mel said truthfully. "I'll reassume research in the morning. Madaline has given me a lead I never counted on. A connection to the Great Altar at Pergamum. I'm close. I feel it."

"No rush Melinda, take as much time with it." He nodded and smiled pleasantly. "If there isn't any business, let's call it a night. And for those of you with money to burn, poker game in my tent in about half and hour." He walked toward Janice and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Looking forward to losing to you this evening."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world. Besides, I'm a little low on cash." She smiled before patting him on the shoulder.

Her green eyes drifting, Janice watched as Mel gathered her research materials from the other side of the room. Even with her body fully covered in clothes and her hair pulled back in a ponytail, Mel was still able to arouse feelings deep within her. Her long, slender body arched over the low cluttered table closing books and putting away artifacts. Her arm muscles flexed as she reached over to the far corner of the desk, and allowing Janice a unrestricted view of her firm, rounded. . . Janice began to move toward her partner when she was intercepted by Madaline who blocked her path.

"I'm sorry Doctor Covington, but Professor Levy said I should go over some material with you. Update you further on translation." Madaline held a brown paper folder close to her chest while flashing a disarming smile. "He wants your opinion on whether this new information should affect where we decide to dig."

Janice looked over Madaline's shoulder as Mel turned around from her gathering. She saw a saddened look wash over her features before she immediately turned away and walked out of the tent. "I'm sure it'll be an interesting read," she said slowly as her eyes followed Mel's retreating form. Janice questioned the look, but was soon snapped out of her musing as she noticed Madaline handing her the folder.

"We can get started now if you have a few minutes."

"Yeah, sure," she said trying to focus her thought on what was being said.
===========================
The stark, white light of the lantern hanging over the small corner desk cast dark shadows around Mel's eyes and mouth, but even from her perspective at the tent's entrance, Janice could see the intuitive and analytic gaze she had seen countless times before. With dark eyes brows held together and her eyes fixed on a large book, Janice's approach went unnoticed. Or so she thought.

Mel could always empathetically feel Janice moving slowly toward her. It was a connection that seemed to grow stronger the more time they spent together. Her body always seemed to respond whenever the good doctor was near, an indescribable energy flowed through her blood, but as her mind drifted back to Madaline's earlier revelation, the dull ache within her chest returned. Mel had little experience dealing with these feelings so she did her best to bury them away never realizing that as her pain ebbed away, her anger rose. As she felt Janice draw nearer, she cautiously said, "I thought you were going to play cards tonight."

Janice dropped her hands to her sides and tried to avoid the distinct coldness in Mel's words. "I changed my mind. I thought we could spend a little time together. I missed you today, sweetheart."

Mel didn't turn around to face the archaeologist. Instead, she kept her eyes focused on the small print of the thick textbook. Her heart, however, skipped a beat when Janice said "sweetheart." Although Janice had used the word countless times since the beginning of their partnership together, as of late, she knew Janice now meant it. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breathing. "I...missed you too," she said biting her bottom lip to prevent any other words that might escape.

"You were great today. In the briefing. Good thing I love you for your brains as well as your body," she said with a sheepish grin on her face. When there was no response, Janice approached the small desk and kneeled beside it. Placing her hand gently on Mel's elbow before she said, "is anything wrong?"

Without facing her, Mel replied, "No, nothing. I just have a lot of work to do. I want to get answer to Martin as soon as possible."

"Mel, remember what I said? Deciphering this stone isn't your problem. I don't want you to strain yourself thinking about this. Your health is much more important."

"I know my limits," she said harshly. She looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. "I just want to be treated like any other member of the crew."

"You are not just any member of the crew, Mel. You're my..." Janice swallowed. "I love you more than anything. Of course, I'm going to worry about you."

"I can take care of myself, Janice," she said absently writing in her legal pad. "I..." She looked up briefly and caught a hurt look settle into Janice's features. "Why don't you go play poker. No sense you just sitting here watching me work. I need to be focused." Janice opened her mouth to protest, but Mel simply said. "I'll still be here when you get back."

Janice wanted to say something...anything. She wanted to tell her that she would be here to if she needed to talk. She would never leave. She would rather watch Mel do work, anything in fact, then play a stupid card game with the guys. But Janice could only fall back on old, nasty habits. If you feel pain, cause it. Her curved jaw tightened and a wave of fury settled into her body. A small, lop-sided smirk formed on her face as she abruptly rose from her kneeling position. "Don't wait up," she said as she stomped toward the entrance, her boots adding the necessary emphasis. Turning around to see Mel still hunched over the textbook, she gruffly muttered, "No guarantees I'll be coming back."
===========================
Hazy, orange day glow was slowly disappearing blow the horizon in the west.. The last rays of the day's light filtered their way through the forest tree line, but the breath-taking sight was lost on the perplexed, puzzled and irate archaeologist who had no idea what to think, how to feel or what to do. As she walked along the deep trenches toward the riverbed sector, her boots leaving imprints on the normally clean sand, Janice resorted to the feeling she had always relied on when things didn't make any sense. She got angry. Her blood flowed rapidly through her veins as the anger desperately looked for an avenue of escape. Stopping just short of the massive clearing, she walked toward a rotted out tree trunk, and before she knew what she was doing, she let loose on fast and hard spin kick with her heavy, black boots to the front bark. Channeling her anger and frustration into a series of serious and hard blows, she continued the frontal assault on the helpless victim until some of the decaying bark began to chip off and settled on the dusty ground below her. She told herself to breath. Leaning against the trunk, she slumped forward and closed her eyes as the anger receded and the pain set in.

As a massive amount of air escaped her lungs, Janice looked toward the beginning of the slowly darkening road about twenty feet to her right. Her heart was racing and beating fast against her ear drum, but she knew she heard it. An engine. A wave of deja vu hit her as she said aloud, "not again." Removing her gun from the holster at her side, she silently jogged toward the beginning of the road as the motor noise made its way closer to the camp. Ain't no car, Janice thought to herself as she removed the gun's safety and cocked the weapon. A motorcycle, she thought as she saw a single headlight approaching in the distance. A raiding party of one was highly unlikely, but she wasn't about to take any chance with anyone's safety. Readying her weapon, Janice position herself at the side of the road's entrance waiting for the lone cyclist to pass by.

The motorcycle seemed to slow down as it approached the entrance of the camp and it was now within her sight. Squinting her eyes, she could see a tall, slender figure commanding the small bike's handle bars. Without thought, Janice emerged from the darkness by the side of the road and launched herself, shoulder's first, into the figure on the bike. With a hard thud, she connected at the figure's chest sending both rolling out into the hard road. The motorcycle's engine made a loud noise which was almost drowned out by the sound of its metal dragging along the dirt. The screeching heap of metal halted a few feet in front of them.

The force of the hit, combined with the momentum of the motorcycle knocked the wind out of Janice's body. Regaining her breath, however, she rolled the figure over and delivered two hard punches to the stomach and on to the solid hit to the face. The tall figure rolled onto its stomach in pain as she delivered two more quick, powerful blows to the figure's side. Tumbling onto her knees, Janice aimed the gun, which she had kept a firm grip on, at the person's head while simultaneously holding her left shoulder which began to throb. "You've got two seconds before I start pumping holes in you."

The figure put their hands in the air. "Covington. I.." The figure coughed before muttering "... where is she?"

Lowering her weapon, Janice leaned forward into the figure's face trying to make out distinguishing features in the descending gray of dusk. "Lombard. What do you think you are doing?" Leaning back on her heels, she rose from the ground, placed her weapon back in its holster, and dusting herself off.

Looking toward the camp, she could make out a few figures approaching the road fast, in an almost panicked mad dash. Recognizing the head figure right away, she called to him, "Stavros, I'm fine. Seems we got a guest." Offering the tall, dark-haired man a hand, she said, "Not the smartest way to pay us a social call. Aren't proper gentleman supposed to call in advance or something?"

Avoiding the extended hand, Charles rolled onto his knees pausing momentarily to hold his bruised stomach as he looked up at Janice, his breathing still erratic, "I've..come for what's mine.."

"Yours? There's nothing here that belongs to you, Charles. Last time I checked, we only employ human beings not animals. Emancipation happened a long time ago, Lombard or did your family just decided to skip that part of the Constitution?"

"Don't toy with me, Covington." He paused and wiped some blood off his lips from a small cut at its corner. "She's here isn't she? With you. I want to talk to her. I think she at least owes me that much."

Stavros walked up to join Janice standing over the man who was still on his knees. Without a word, Stavros approached Charles and unceremoniously jerked him to his feet. The rest of the university crew were now making their way toward the road.

"I don't think she owes you a damn thing. She's free to make whatever choices she feels are right for her. So I think you'd just better..."

"No," Mel said as she pushed her way through the small crowd standing around them. "I'm capable of making my own decisions, Janice." Slowly, she approached the man she left back in Charleston. "Hello, Charles."

Still holding his side with one hand, Charles reached up and touched Mel's cheek. "Melinda. I'm glad to see you are okay. When I saw you in the hospital you looked so..."

Grabbing Charles' long fingers, Mel causally put them back at his side. "I know. I do think I owe you an explanation. I..." She looked around and saw everyone's eyes transfixed on the scene. "Could you excuse us?"

The crew began the slow trek back toward the camp a short distance away, but Janice remained behind. Mel saw the look of distress in Janice's eyes, and although, she wanted to say something to alleviate the concern, she simply said, "Janice, please." Her hands firmly planted on her hips and a severe look overtaking her features, Janice took a couple of steps backward before retreating to join the others.

Charles adjusted his dirty, white shirt and ran his fingers through his hair before looking up to see Mel examining him as well. "Are you okay," she said softly.

"I'm be fine," he said knowing that it would probably be a while before he could breath with a pain shooting through his side. "Just need some air." Calmly, he approached Mel placing his palm on her face. "I need to see if... if you were sure about all this. I couldn't walk away without knowing or hearing it from you."

Mel nodded understandingly, but jumped back when Charles tried to lean in to kiss her. "I said we had to talk. That's all. You have to understand that." She motioned from him to follow her into the camp. Silently, he walked still holding his tender side and wishing he could have gotten off a couple of punches to Covingtion face.

Leaning back on her desk in the cleaning tent, Mel offered Charles a seat, but holding up the hand that wasn't holding his side, he said, "I'd prefer to stand." Charles looked around the tent littered with large crates, one long desk which Rebecca used as a cleaning station, and a few stray, unwrapped artifacts that needed to be recorded and packed. A gust of wind blew onto the canvas side of the tent causing it to shake. The two lit lanterns on either side of the tent provided just enough light to see, but he had trouble making out Melinda's distinct features. The light, however, made Mel's skin glow in an amber hue and caused her arctic blue eyes to shine brightly. He had never seen her looking more attractive. "I... couldn't leave Greece without... seeing you again." He slowly approached her, but stopped when he saw her shift uncomfortably. It was the last thing he wanted her to feel...uncomfortable. Motioning to his surroundings, he said, "is this the life you want, Melinda? Away from Charleston. From me."

Pushing back a few strands of hair that came loose from her ponytail, Mel looked at the man she was going to marry and said, "I would be lying if I didn't say I care for you." Charles face registered a hopeful look, but Mel soon looked away. "But I could never love you the way you want me to."

"What happened to our dreams of raising a family and living out our lives together?"

"A few years ago, those were the things I thought I wanted too, but I've changed in the past year and along with that so have my dreams. I'm not the person I used to be, Charles, and I think that's the person you were in love with. But she's gone now."

"So are you planning on spending your life with that...that woman," he said momentarily flustered.

Mel paused. Even though things haven't been going particularly well as of late, Mel knew that there could never been anyone else. No matter how angry or frustrated or completely crazy Janice made her at times, she knew that when all was said and done, she was the one. Mel said one word and felt it run through her soul, "yes!" Charles rubbed his face with the palm of his hand before letting go of the breath in had been holding in anticipation of her momentarily delayed answer. "I know how hard this might be for you to understand, but I love her. She makes me complete. I could never be happy with anyone else but Janice."

"Why did you do it then? Why did you agree to marry me if you knew?"

It was the question she had been avoiding the moment she said yes to his proposal. "When Janice left, I convinced myself that she didn't feel...what I felt. I thought that I should just settle down and do what my mother always said I should do...marry you. But as time went on I realized how much I need her. It wouldn't have been fair to either one of us if I went through with the marriage. One day, you'll meet a wonderful woman, Charles. Someone who fulfills you and makes you happier than you ever dreamed possible."

"I have." He shrugged simply and said, "she's just in love with someone else." Charles closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I won't pretend to understand Melinda, but I have to accept it. That might take some time."

"Charles, you are still one of my best friends and nothing will ever change that," she said as she grabbed his hand. "But that was all we were destined to be."

Charles opened his arms and silently asked for an embrace. Mel eased into this long arms and padded him on the back. Holding her close, Charles inhaled her scent wanting to remember. Kissing her on the forehead, he said softly, "I hope you are happy."

"I am," she whispered before separating from his arms. "And you will be too, one day."
===========================
Mel made arrangements to have Charles spend the night at the camp. He would bunk with Jonathan before heading out in the morning to start his new life back in Charleston. Easing the hair clip from her long, charcoal locks, Mel ran a few finger through her hair before entering the darkened tent. She could hear the slow in and out of Janice distinct breathing on the hard floor next to the cot. Mel wanted desperately to apologize for how she had treated her, the conclusions she had drawn. She just wanted to forgive and forget. The past was behind them, and there was a future to be planned. And the only sure thing she could see in that distant horizon was their love for each other. That was the only thing that mattered. Slowly, Mel lowered herself by Janice's side and cautiously placed a few long fingers on her cheek and full lips. The look of serenity and peace upon the normally troubled and passionate archaeologist's face was enough to make her heart slowly melt. There is no one else, she thought. There never could be. Placing a short, warm kiss on the tanned cheek, Mel slipped in between the sheets of the cot above. "I love you, Janice Covington," she said softly before drifting off into a sound sleep.
===========================
Cautiously, he opened the heavy tent flap. The low, pale light of the two lanterns cascaded through the interior casting interesting shadows along its inner canvas walls and tinting the entire area a golden yellow. He looked around mindlessly, his eyes shifting over different objects, as he wondered where she could be. He glanced down at a few books which laid open on the small oak desk. A picture of what looked to be a Hindu deity greeted his eyes as he turned the book around. He flipped the book over and read the spine, The Coming Storm: Eastern Gods and Doomsday Myth, the words set in simple white lettering against a bold black surface. Walking around the small tent, he noticed it was even smaller than his, if that was possible.

His lucid brown eyes grew distant as he thought about the last few weeks and how his life had changed almost over night. He knew it wasn't right. A high level member of the university staff getting involved with a student. After all, he could have a serious effect on her future at university, but something within him knew that all this seemed too right to be wrong. It had happened in an instant. She simply leaned in and kissed him, and from that moment on, there was not an instant that went by when his thoughts were not lost in her. They had to keep their relationship discreet, of course, but it only seemed to add to the thrill. He wanted to surprise her with a few roses he got from town this afternoon. He had never been one for romance, but there was something about this girl that was special, unique and just a bit dangerous. A lethal combination... he didn't stand a chance.

Looking at this silver wrist watch, Jonathan wondered where the slim and sensual student could be. Probably finishing up some paper work, he mused. The camp had grown increasingly silent as the poker game in Professor Levy's tent came to abrupt end after Janice lost her temper over losing three hands in a row. It took some quiet words from Stavros to ease her out of her rage.

Walking slowly around the small space, he noticed how clean and neat she kept her belongings. Everything was in its place right down to the pencils on her desk which were stored in a neat case. Her cot was properly made, the dark green blanket folded over to one side and two pillows at the head. He noticed a single picture near the head of the bed which rested on top of a few stacks of books. Bending down, Jonathan gazed upon it though careful not to touch it. A little girl was wrapped in the arms of a much older man's protective embrace as they both smiled at the camera, their grins wide and sincere. The picture was bent and slightly faded, and Jonathan could only assume it was Madaline and her grandfather. It obviously meant a lot to her. It was the only personal item on public display in the entire space.

As he began to rise from his position near the floor, a dull shimmer caught his eye in between a few duffel bags toward the back of the tent. He didn't knew why, but he moved toward it. Half hidden beneath a large bag of clothes, it was covered in a cotton material. Reaching between the bags, he grabbed it. Pulling it out, he unwrapped the piece. The curved, embossed handle was incised with ancient lettering as the long, slender blade ended in a sharp point. Along the steel were traces of. . . Holding the blade to the light, he saw streaks of dried blood stains. Jonathan swallowed. He was unaware of the presence behind him.

"What are you doing here," said her even, clear voice.

Immediately, Jonathan turned around with the knife in his hand, "I was waiting for you." Lifting the two roses with his other hand, she slowly approached and took the offering smiling as her eyes shifted between the knife and his face.

Inhaling their sweet smell, she said slowly, "thank you." She put the roses on the small desk, before closing the remaining distance between them. "I see you found my good luck charm."

"Good luck," he said looking at the blade.

"Yes, my uncle gave it to me before he died. Been in my family for generations. It would probably be a valuable artifact if it was in a public collection." She slowly released his fingers from around the handle. "But I'll never sell it. It meant to much to him. It's my destiny to carry out the family tradition."

Jonathan smiled. "Oh, I'm sorry I.. I just saw it on the floor near those bags and I thought you might have accidentally misplaced..."

"How sweet of you. Looking out for me already?" Madaline gripped the curved handle and placed it gently on the cot before wrapping her long, slight arms around the man's waist.

"It looks like there's blood on it," he said, his resistance weakening as she buried her head in his broad shoulder.

"Yes, I meant to clean it off. I like to hunt. . . back home," she replied drawing his slightly taller frame closer guiding his arms around her own waist.

"You're dangerous," he smiled wide down at her leaning in to kiss her.

Sucking on his bottom lip, she purred, the words barely above a whisper, "Dangerous. Some say my kisses are pretty dangerous."

"I think I'd have to agree with them on that," he said softly as he stroked her cheek.

"Exciting," she said as she moved his lips down her neck.

"Mmmm..."

Placing a secure, guiding hand on either side of his head, she lifted his face up to hers and kissed him again soundly yet softly on the lips. Her brown eyes ablaze, he smiled knowing the direction this night was probably headed. "Deadly," she murmured quietly into his ear. Leaning back, Madaline's face broke into a wide, sinister grin. Her hands tightened their grip on his head before she violently jerked Jonathan's head hard and fast to one side. The sound was unmistakable as vertebrae snapped loose. Shock, fear, panic and horror momentarily registered in his eyes, but it was too late. In one second, his world turned dark. Blood flowed from his right nostril as his lifeless body descended to the floor landing in a heap near her feet. Walking around his body, she kicked him onto his back. "Some people just can't seem to handle them," she giggled. She leaned over the body to make sure there was no pulse. With her hands on her hips, she stated vehemently, "men! Can't resist the chance to get to know women better. Can't handle the mystery."

Breaking off his wrist watch, she put the cold silver in her pocket. She wondered where would be the best place to hide the body. She could always put him where she hid that pathetic dig worker near the beginning of the road. But she thought against it. . .the woods would probably get too ripe with the smell of rotten, decaying flesh. These two kills had almost been too easy. Although, she had to admit, the death of the dig worker by her dagger had been much more satisfying. Seeing his lifeblood drain from his body had filled her with incredible energy and power.

Dirt mounds should cover him up for a while, she thought as she looked at his body. He had been a tool who served her purposes. An information link to higher levels of power as he filled the void Janice left during her long absence. Her powers of seduction had helped her in the past, but this time it had proved the most successful. Catching sight of the two red roses, she wondered if dear, old Jonathan was falling in love with her. Love was never something she believed in. It left one vulnerable, weak. . . things she refused to be. She sought ultimate power, divine power over life and death, the power to destroy at will. For now, she had to settle with a good kill.

She couldn't let him escape with what he had seen, even if he had no idea what it meant. She knew he was intelligent. Time would provide him answers. Nothing could go wrong now. She couldn't afford questions. She was too close to the goal. The fate of humanity rested on it. It was her destiny after all. Lifting the faded photograph from its usual place near her bed, she knew. Her uncle was right. He will enter the world this time. And no one will stop him.

Madaline gathered her light blond hair in a loose bun as slowly breathed out. "It's been fun, Jonathan, but...you have to go now." Dragging his body out the tent door, she knew everyone on site was asleep. She had made sure of that before she entered her tent. Darkness would keep her safe. It always had in the past.
===========================
The deafening roar and crack made her jerk upright. Breathing hard, her face glistening with thin layer of cold sweat, she cautiously took in her surroundings. Once her nerves were settled, she wiped her brow and waited for her heart to stop pounding on her chest. Throwing the covers off her pants, she staggered to the bowl of still, warm water splashing some into her tired, red eyes. The water ran down her face and her neck before the loud crash and rumbling of thunder came again. It wasn't a dream, she thought as she rubbed the water out of her eyes. Janice walked toward the tent flap and slowly lifted it. The sky was dark and gray, her body instantly registering the high humidity in the air. They were in for it today. After being lucky for close to two months now, their luck had finally run out. The moist wind blew in her face, whipping around her loose hair, as she looked beyond the horizon. . . a storm was slowly heading their way.

Tearing off her shirt, Janice quickly put on a clean one. Mel's eyes slowly fluttered open as Janice dropped her pants. Desire turned into concern when she saw the determined, stern look etched into Janice's features. "What's wrong," she said, her voice low and groggy.

Hurriedly tucking her shirt tails back into a clean pair of pants, she replied, "Storm. About an hour way. Heading in fast from the west. We gotta secure the site." Zipping her pants, she plopped down into the hard wooden chair grabbing her long boots and immediately securing and tightening the laces.

Bringing her bare feet to the compact sand, Mel massaged her eyelids trying to wipe away the blurring. "How can I help?"

Janice's eyes drifted up from tying her right boot immediately capturing Mel's baby blues before breaking the serene contact by looking back at her laces. A heavy ache returned to her chest as she remembered all that occurred the night before. All she had seen. Walking past the cleaning tent about a half an hour after Lombard's arrival on site, she caught a brief glimpse of Mel in his arms as he whispered something in her ear. She looked away immediately wanting to cut out her heart and soul to relieve the agonizing pain. Long forgotten insecurities came teeming to the surface as she walked on to Martin's tent a few hundred feet away. Trying to lose herself in a pointless game of poker, she found herself becoming increasingly frustrated as she lost every hand. Finally, she screamed at Martin for dealing the deck improperly. Stavros calmed her down and ordered her to her tent, but sleep refused to take her as she laid on the cold, hard ground. Instead, her mind mulled over the scene, her own self-hatred becoming her ultimate tormentor. Reminding her of how many other relationships she had messed up before this one, and how Mel had not loved her enough to say no to Charles'offer of marriage. In the darkness, the void returned. Lifting herself out of the chair and slipping her jacket back on she said harshly, "Just stay out of our way. You're in condition to do any physical activity."

Mel cringed at the stern tone. "Janice...I," she stammered. "We need to talk."

"Later. I gotta go." Brushing her strawberry blond hair aside, she slipped on her hat and walked out of the tent ignoring Mel's insistance that she stay.

Janice fought the urge to scream at the heavens for bringing him back into their lives, and no amount of rationality could bring her back from mindless jealously and anger. Holding her throbbing shoulder, she wandered through the silent camp yelling for her crew to arise from their respective slumbers. "Storm coming boys and girls. UP! NOW!"

Minutes later, most of the crew emerged from their tents, fully clothed, but wiping sleep from their eyes as they walked absently, some fumbling on their own heavy steps. Looking up at the sky, Martin saw what Janice was yelling about. Years of dig experience, the feeling in his bones and the smell of the air, told him a storm was close by.
The tarps had to be laid across the trenches or they would become filled with water becoming four foot, muddy moats littering the now arid site. The workers would be arriving in about twenty minutes, if all were on time. Martin was hoping the storm would hold out for at least another hour or two, if they were lucky.

Hands on her tan leather belt, Janice said, "Where's Michaels?"

"Haven't seen him since the poker game broke up last night," Rebecca said arranging her stringy red hair in a bun.

Walking backwards toward his tent, Janice called to the others, "I'll go rouse him from his beauty sleep."

Flipping the flap open, she said loudly, "Rise and shine Jonathan!" She paused when she saw Charles sound asleep on the floor, but Jonathan's cot was empty. It looked like it had not been slept in. An odd feeling crept its way into Janice's body as she looked around the tent for any sign that Jonathan had been there at all since yesterday. Bending over Charles, she shook him fiercely by the front of his shirt. "Lombard, Wake up!" Finally getting slow movement, she turned him around on his back, jerking him from a sound sleep, before yelling, "where's Jonathan? Have you seen him?"

"No," Charles said slightly scared at the look in the archaeologist's eyes. "I thought he would come in after I went to sleep."

"Well as you can see he didn't." Getting up, she paced the tent, her hand on her brow, a knot forming in her stomach. "Get dressed and get out here. Make yourself useful."

"He's missing," she yelled to the crew.

"What?" came the surprised response.

"He didn't sleep in his tent last night." Janice approached the remaining members of her crew. "It's like he just disappeared."

"That's impossible. He was here last night," Martin replied weighing the gravity of the news.

"Looks like we've got bigger problems than that storm."
===========================
The wind picked up its force making it harder from the workers to secure the tarps. The first truck load arrived shortly before nine-thirty with the other truck load, about fifteen workers, lagging behind with car trouble. Martin and the others were thankful for any help as they turned their focus to the search for Jonathan. Increasingly, Janice knew that something had happened to him. He couldn't have just disappeared without a trace. Roaming around the site, Rebecca and Janice searched for any signs, anything, that might lead to his location. Walking along the dirt road, she solemnly entertained thoughts that they might just be looking for his body.

"Jonathan, wouldn't just run off. He's more responsible than that," Rebecca's voice tinged with concern and fear.

Silently, Janice walked ahead, her mind enacting different scenarios for the cause of his disappearance and none of them ended with Jonathan's safe return. "We'll find him," Janice said with more confidence than she possessed. "One way or another," she muttered under her breath. Ahead in the dirt road, she cut a glimmer of something lying half buried in the ground. It could just be a part which broke off the motorcycle, but as she approached, she knew... Bending down over the item she slowly lifted the silver wrist watch from the ground.

The road beyond was strangely quiet giving Janice an eerie sense of peace. Wrapping her fingers around the only remaining physical connection to Jonathan, she walked toward Rebecca who finally realized what the item probably meant. A violent wind gust blew dust clouds into the sky making it hard to keep her eyes open. Her eyes began to tear. She told herself if was because of the airborne dust partials, but deep down she knew better.
===========================
Tapping her yellow pencil against the wooden desk, she stared at the open book. Burying herself in work was what she did when she didn't want to think about anything else. Her unwavering focus could then center on something other than the emotional turmoil hidden underneath her calm exterior. The black and white picture had haunted her even in her sleep. Like the Rosetta stone, this had to be the key to solving the mystery of the tablet. Exasperated, she thumbed through the rest of the book searching for something, anything that might help. Pergamum, excavated in 1925 by a German archaeological team in the northeastern shore of modern day Turkey, was considered to be the find of the past few decades. The gem in the crown was the discovery of the Great Altar dedicated to Zeus and Athena to mark the city's defeat of invading tribes from Gaul. These tribes brought with them foreign ideas and religious thought to the region considered evil and backward by those practicing in the traditional Hellenistic lifestyle. The Great Altar contains a large Ionic frieze depicting the battle of Gods and giants, an allegory to Greek defeat of the barbarians.

Religious ideals. . .Mel's mind latched onto that phrase. Looking at the stone, she lightly fingered the phrase Madaline had identified as "Temple of the One God." Gaelic, her mind raced. Gaelic! She nearly jumped out of her own skin. A form of Gaelic. It had to be. That is why it matched the item at Pergamum. That is why she had such a hard time placing it. There was not much surviving ancient Gaelic inscriptions because their roaming tribes failed to record their languages. Their culture was almost exclusively oral based with different dialects populating different regions as their nomad tribes headed east toward Greece, Asia Minor and India. Trying to remember the books her father had forced her to read on Gaelic culture, she tried different combinations with the inscriptions on the item found at Pergamum as a guide.

Suddenly, she heard a voice whisper in her ear, "Find something?" Whipping herself around, Mel found Madaline's brown eyes watching her movements intently as she wiped some dirt off her hands with an all ready dirty wash cloth. "You look so engrossed in that picture. I guessed you must have figured it out."

"Figured... oh well, I'm close." Adjusting her black frames she looked back down at the stone, "I think I've cracked the code."

"Terrific. What does it say," she said leaning over Mel's shoulder.

"If my assumptions are correct and it is indeed Gaelic, we should know in a few minutes."
A bit unnerved by the presence of an audience, Mel continued trying different grammar placements. She could not hide the delight, however, when she saw a language beginning to form. After centuries, this tablet's secrets were about to be unlocked. But with the tablet broken, she could only understand a few words. "Temple of One God. . .the Dark One enters. . . the blood of the Betrayer will bring forth. . . come to pass as blood of innocents soaks the holy ground. . ." She paused looking up to find Madaline completely entranced by each revelation.

"Go on," she said firmly.

". . .Power held by. . .will lead the way. . .east of the Sister Peaks." She was puzzled. "It seems to end with kalon kakon...beautiful evil. That's all. The rest is either on the other piece of this tablet or long since faded off the stone." Lifting the stone carefully toward the light, she looked closely. "Incised here. It looks like the two peaks...the Sister Peaks."

"Where," Madaline said almost annoyed. Mel shrunk back as Madaline looked at the stone. "Sister Peaks." She repeated reaching for the stone.

"Does that mean anything to you?"

Before Madaline could answer, they heard the shouting.

"WHAT," Janice barked, her features awash with shock.

Stavros said calmly, "The raiders. They escaped military custody. They don't know how or when, but they did. Sometime last night."

The blood drained from Janice's face, her skin becoming pale, but her sea-green eyes were ablaze. Tightening her jaw and tipping her head back, she looked at the distressed, troubled faces of the crew and some of the workers who all looked back at her for guidance and protection. The responsibility of their lives slowly weighing down on her shoulders, she knew there was only one thing to do. She rubbed her face and said, "All right. I'm making a decision." She looked at Martin who held his brow and simply nodded. Her voice rose as she addressed everyone in the vicinity. "I want this place packed and ready to move out in one hour." She paused as Stavros relayed the message in Greek. "Take only the equipment. Leave the tarps in place. Everything else in the trucks. LET'S GO!" She finally shouted. As she walked past Martin she flatly said, "The university can put this on my head, but I'm not losing anyone else here. Two men is enough."
===========================
Stuffing assorted leather bound books and unorganized paper folders into a large duffel bag, Janice knew Mel had entered their tent, recognizing her distinctive, soft foot fall and feeling those unique waves wash through her body; the feeling that came only when Mel was near. But she chose, instead, to ignore her and continue at the task at hand. She felt a warm hand touch her shoulder and she paused momentarily.

"Do you wanna talk about it," asked the calming voice.

"About what?" Janice resumed the disorganized dismantling of her work space, refusing to establish any sort of eye contact with the tall southern who stood directly behind her.

"Jonathan." Mel swallowed "I know you must have liked and respected him."

"I can't really think about that right now. We have to get out of here," she replied, her body enjoying the hand still resting comfortably on her shoulder.

Moving around the crouched archaeologist, Mel got down on one knee and placed her hand over Janice's arm trying to still its hasty movements. "I know, but don't you think it would be better if you let some of those feelings go."

Jerking her arm away, Janice's emerald eyes bored into her companion's cerulean eyes before replying coldly, "Mel, there are a bunch of men with big guns who are probably going to be here sometime real soon so I'd rather spend my time trying to save the rest of us than mourn over someone I can do nothing for."

"It's not your job to save the world."

"It is here," she replied firmly, her body trying to ignore Mel's increasing proximity.

"Talk to me, Janice. Let me in. Why do I feel like I'm talking to a stranger?"

"Hey, I didn't start this. You are the one who gave me the cold shoulder, remember."

"Is that all that matters to you? Who started it?"

"I don't make the rules, sweetheart." Janice abruptly rose from Mel's side, a heavy duffel bag in hand as she walked toward the tent's flap.

"I know you slept with Madaline." Mel's voice seemed in echo within the small interior as time slowed to a crawl.

Janice closed her eyes trying to fight back the familiar sting of tears that threatened to fall from her tired eyes, the raw emotion of the past few hours cascading through her heart and soul, proving too much for her to handle. Tightening her resolve, however, her face forming the well-known hard mask from which no emotion could escape, she turned around on her heel. "Is that all?" Dropping her duffel bag, she moved closer. "Well, at least I didn't promise to marry anyone did I?" Her face forming into a sneer, the words released feeling like a slap across Mel's face.

"Why are you doing this?" Mel gripped her chest as the painful void made its presence known. "Why do you want to hurt me?"

"Because I saw you and...him in the tent last night, Mel." Her voice saturated with anger and resentment. The overwhelming pain proved too much as she reached out and tightened her hands around Mel's forearms. Her cold eyes held Mel's in a grip from which there was escape. "Tell me it didn't feel good to but held by a man like that. I didn't hear you complaining. I didn't see you push him away."

"Were you spying on me?"

"No, but I'd like to hear your version of it." Finally wrestling away control from her emotions, she eased her grip not wanting to become the monster she had fought so long and hard to restrain.

"I was saying good-bye to him. He is still apart of my past, Janice. He is a good friend whom I shared many years with, but that's all he is. All he'll ever be." Finding no response, she countered Janice's harsh tone with her own. "What's your excuse? I don't suppose you knew Madaline way back when."

"I never thought," she stammered. She found she couldn't fight the wave of emotions assaulting her. Letting go, she felt the hot, salty tears roll down her cheek, dropping to the floor around her chin. "Walking away from you was the hardest thing I ever had to do." Closing her eyes, she tried to put it into words; tried to explain what it did to her. "It was like I left a part of myself behind. I thought it was a part I would never be able to reclaim." Wiping away some of the tears with her palm, she continued, "Madaline offered something I needed. . .an opportunity to forget. So I took it. But when it came time to finish what I had started, I couldn't do it because I knew she was nothing like you. She was nowhere near what I wanted. I could never want anyone but you." She paused not realizing how much it would hurt to open herself up like this. "My heart, body and soul were never promised to anyone else. They always belonged to you."

"Don't you think I feel that same way?" she replied shocked by Janice's admission.

"To tell you the truth, I don't know anymore," she said honestly.

"I love you, Janice Covington." Taking a step forward, Mel reached out a hesitant hand towards Janice's tear-streaked face. Janice didn't move letting the fingers settle on her warm, wet skin. She found relief in the physical contact. "And if I have to prove it for the rest of my life I will."

"I'm so sorry I hurt you. I. . ." The mask melted away into the look of love and concern Mel had missed. "I love you."

Tracing the lines of Janice's face with a lone finger, Mel slowly leaned in until their foreheads touched. A low, soft sigh escaped her slightly parted lips when Janice wrapped her strong arm around Mel's waist. "Janice, I wish none of this. . ."

"Shhhh..." Janice silenced her by placing a thumb on her lower lip. Stroking the warm flesh, she kissed her lips lightly before realizing exactly what they were in the middle of. Raiders are coming, the rational side of her brain screamed. Grabbing Mel's hand from her face, Janice interlaced their fingers before looking up into her eyes. Softly, she whispered, "Come on. Pack your stuff and let's get outta here."
===========================
The three flatbed trucks were becoming full with wooden crates, each box holding the fruits of their hard labor; history that now could be studied, examined and displayed in priceless, safe museum collections back in the United States. Janice stood behind the trucks surveying the worker's progress while Stavros directed them in an orderly fashion. Looking at her pocket watch, she knew that time was not on their side.

"What about the tents," Martin said, his voice registering the strain.

"Leave 'em. We don't have that much time."

"What makes you so sure they'll be coming back here?"

"I know their kind. They're determined and now that they know I have want they want, they'll try again. No matter what the cost." Looking into Martin's tanned and lined face, she noticed the apprehension. "It's going to be okay. We'll get outta this."

The slowly darkening sky rumbled above their heads interrupting their respective trains of thought as a strong gust of wind blew across the landscape rustling the forest trees and shaking the canvas tents. "We have to secure those crates."

Janice looked up at the menacing sky, the dark clouds sweeping across the heavens collecting over the site. "Once everything is set, I want you to drive out the military base. We should be relatively safe there until we can arrange an airlift out." Martin walked away to help insure the safety of the artifacts.

Carefully, Janice guided her fingers into the inside pocket of her leather bomber jacket to make sure it was still there. Her hand lightly brushed over the soft material the stone was wrapped in before taking her hand out again. She had grabbed the item off of Mel's work desk just before the crates in the cleaning tent began to be moved. This is what they wanted last time, and this is what they would be after again. There was no way in hell the raiders would get their hands on it. Slowly zipping the front of her jacket, she stuffed her hands in the warm outside pockets.

Stavros casually walked up to her. "The first truck is ready to pull out. The other two should be ready in about five minutes. Just checking the ropes and crates."

"Just in time," she said looking at the sky. "Looks like rain is going to spoil our fun."
Waving for Martin and Rebecca to come her way, she looked around for the rest of the university crew. Spotting Madaline, Mel and Charles helping load crates into the second truck, she motioned for Stavros to call them over. Once all were present and accounted for, she began, "the first truck is ready. Rebecca and Martin, I want you on that one. Once the next two trucks are ready, I want the rest of you on them."

"What about you," Rebecca asked concerned.

"I'll secure the rear in my truck once I've loaded the workers up in their trucks." She knew Martin was about to protest, but she held up a silencing palm. "No, that's it. Now, go on."

"You heard her. Rebecca, get in the truck." Martin retreated giving her a final nod. "See you at the base."

"The two trucks are ready," Stavros firm voice said.

"Stavros, I want you to drive the third truck."

"Are you crazy? You need help here. You..."

"Don't argue with me now! Just do it. Trust me. I can handle things here. I need you to keep on eye on Mel. Make sure she's safe. No matter what happens. Keep driving. Don't stop til you reach the base."

"Okay," he said simply. "Take care of yourself, Janice."

"Hey, don't I always. Go on. Move outta here."

Janice watched the sky as the last remaining bit of warm, hazy sunlight was swallowed away by the dark clouds spreading their way through the atmosphere and seeming to touch the horizon. "I want to stay with you," Mel's voice said from behind her.

"Mel," she breathed in lowering her head as she turned around. "I need to know you're safe."

"I will be," said the soft, reassuring voice.

"I promised myself when you got hurt, I would never put you in harm's way again. Please, just do what I ask."

"Don't you think I worry? What do you think it will be like for me in that truck? I worry about losing you too."

Janice felt Mel's soothing, sweet voice resonate through her aching soul washing away the last few remnants of doubt she had about loving this incredibly gentle woman and this woman loving her back. "You won't," she said gently. Her callused hands found their way to Mel's soft, satin cheeks, rubbing the sides of her face while locking eyes with the other half of her soul. Leaning into her body, her face mere inches away, she whispered, "Remember our promise. I will spend the rest of my life with you just like we planned. I'll be right behind you."

"I love you," her voice brimming with emotion as she felt Janice's hands drift past the plains and slopes of her face; each movement leaving deep imprints in her sensitive skin.

The dark heavens rumbled low echoing through the flat valley, but neither woman seemed to register it. Amid the crowded chaos, the shouting and the sound of boisterous car engines starting up, they disappeared into each other. The spiritual and physical connection becoming the ultimate boundaries of their world. There was nothing else. Mel placed her hands over Janice's, stilling their movements. Drawing her face down, Janice held Mel's eyes and captured her lips in a slow, sensual kiss determined to transmit her feelings of love through the union of their mouths. Slowly parting the bottom lip, she lost herself in the sensation, exposing herself in utter honesty and finding her feelings accepted in complete warmth.

Lightening ripped once through the black sky before the dark clouds opened their gates letting large drops escape littering the ground below with cold moisture. Pulling back, Janice looked up once to find the sky in complete darkness. Touching Mel's lips with her index finger, she whispered, "I know." The violent rain storm assaulted everything in its path as it took only a few moments for everything to become soaked with water.

Sheets of blinding rain poured from above, cascading over the canvas tents and forming large puddles on top of the clear tarps. Workers ran for the large trucks covering themselves with extra tarps from the site. In a matter of seconds, one truck was full with men. The first truck loaded with artifacts pulled out as Martin waved from the front seat.

Janice still held Mel close wanting to savor the last moments of their lingering kiss. Mel's cream-colored shirt and cargo pants were beginning to cling to her body as cool water ran down the length of her warm, exposed skin. Janice reached over and found a tarp. She wrapped Mel's long body in it as she saw Stavros bang on the trucks hood. "Time to go, sweetheart. I'll see you soon. I promise."

Suddenly, a slender worker ran from up the road screaming. Janice barely had time to make out his terrified outcry, when three successive, loud bangs silenced his commotion. His body landing in a hard thud against the wet ground. Instinctually, Janice shielded Mel with her body. "It's starting," she said taking Mel's hand and breaking into a run toward the last truck.

The rest of the workers ran toward the remaining truck and chaotically loaded into it. Mel clung to Janice's arms and jacket collar not wanting to let go. Trying to unwrap herself from Mel's grasp, Janice tried to reassure Mel that things would be fine as gunfire mixing with the sound of falling rain, echoed through the camp. Charles urged Mel to release her hold on Janice. "Get her out of here," Janice yelled to Charles. Finally, letting go, Mel watched a smile spread across Janice's face as she was carried away still struggling in Charles' arms toward the awaiting truck.

She can vaguely make out Charles' reassuring voice telling her things would be okay. The engine started and the truck began to move as her eyes watched Janice pull out her revolver. Swerving to avoid a group of ten men on horseback with guns already drawn, Stavros muttered something in Greek Mel couldn't quite make out. He sped on following the other trucks' lead at forty-five miles an hour. Looking out of the truck cabin window, Mel saw as Janice's eyes widened at the sight of the approaching armed men. Water still dripping from her face, she lifted her eyes toward the skyward, catching sight of a lone thunderbolt rip through the black heavens directly across the camp. An odd feeling settled into her body as images of Janice's bloody body heaped on the ground ran through her mind. "JANICE," her mind cried as she struggled toward the passenger door, but Charles' grip was tight. "She needs me," she shouted, her eyes flooded with tears. "She needs me!"
===========================
I'M IN TROUBLE, her mind raced as workers ran passed her for the only remaining truck. The rain beat down on her hard causing her to loose her grip on the bulldog revolver a couple of times. The men on horseback rode into the camp just as Mel's truck pulled out causing the truck to violently veer to the right to avoid a head-on collision. Janice breathed a sigh of relief as the truck sped on.

Men with long, curved swords and dark clothing followed the men on horseback into the camp, and began their assault the remaining worker struggling to find places to hide. Firing her gun at two men on horseback who had one of her workers trapped in a circle, she hit them both square in the chest sending both men flying to the ground. Carrying torches, the men on foot launched fiery ambers into the cleaning tent causing it to smoke, but the fire did not spread as the pounding rain extinguished the flames emanating from the roof and sides of the canvas structure.

Hiding behind an empty crate, Janice aimed carefully at the invading men as they began to fight and mercilessly slaughter the remaining workers. The rain made it hard to aim, dripping down her hat and into her eyes, but Janice successfully hit two men in the arm and leg. Emptying the chamber, she fished in her pockets for bullets when a man spotted her behind the crate. Running into her, Janice went down, but immediately delivered a hard thrust to the groin with her knee. The man rolled around in intense pain and lost the grip on his gun, she jerked it out of his hand and fired on another man headed straight toward her. Kicking her assailant in the face, she rolled to her feet splashing through puddles, tucking her pistol into the holster and cocking the one in her hand as she ran to help a worker who was being beaten by two men. Her heart pounding, Janice fired at them as she ran toward them. Both men fell back with loud grunts before the worker held his head, his face a bloody mess, staggered toward Janice. Lifting him up, his arm over her shoulder, she walked him toward a muddy mound near the forest tree line. Instructing him to keep out of sight, she settled him on the ground. As she bent over, she felt an object jabbed between her ribs as a kick was delivered to her back connecting with her spinal column. Falling forward, she landed hard on her hands, but quickly rolled onto her feet as a shot was fired by the gun. Looking up, Janice saw blood mixed with muddy and water begin to ran down the small, muddy hill. The worker whom she had helped was dead. His body falling to one side as blood steadily followed from the head wound.

Finally casting a glance at the killer, she nearly jumped when the cold, pale brown eyes looked down at her from above a gun now pointed at her forehead. "Madaline," she asked, her mind still needing conformation for what her eyes were seeing. She slowly rose from the ground. "What...what," was all she could say, the shock of the moment becoming almost too much.

"As you can see, Doctor Covington, I have little regard for human life, so if you are as smart as you claim to be, I suggest you give me what it is I want."

"And what's that?"

"The stone or your life. You choose."

"Why don't you give me a minute,"

Cocking her black revolver, Madaline sneered at the answer. She moved closer finally resting the barrel right in between Janice's eyes. "Games. You always did like them, didn't you? Gotta admit, we had some fun together. But like they say, all good things must come to an end." For a moment, Janice thought it was all over. She swallowed, her thoughts turning to Melinda. But Madaline eased her finger off the trigger and placed her hand inside Janice's jacket reaching for the precious stone she knew was there. Finding it, she eased her hand out, paused momentarily, and hit Janice across the face with the gun.

Dropping to the ground, Janice held her face, the throb settling just above her right temple. Placing the stone in her front pocket of her black shirt, Madaline yanked Janice to her feet and said menacing, "I'm not done with you yet." Kneeing her harshly in the stomach and in the ribcage, Janice staggered as her body began too feel heavy, her wet clothes adding to the feeling. Her mind, however, was alert and noticed the loose grip Madaline now had on the gun as she continued her merciless assault on Janice's ribs.

Using her body weight, Janice pivoted on the ball of her feet and smacked into Madaline's right hand sending the gun flying to the ground. A moment of shock registered on her face as Janice used her momentum to kick her in the back of the knee. Now off balance, Janice delivered an upper cut to Madaline's face before kneeing her in the stomach. "Neither am I," she said through her teeth.

Madaline screamed in frustration and delivered her own hard punch to Janice's tender stomach and a stinging slap across her face causing her to fall back. The cold wind assaulted her skin now soaked to the bone as the pain shot through her body. Madaline grabbed Janice's head, pulling it back by the hair, her eyes now focused on her face. "Why are you doing this," Janice asked, her breathing become labored.

"That's for me to know and you to find out. But don't worry, you won't be left out of the fun." Madaline elbowed Janice in the face. Falling to ground, Janice panted slightly distracted by the water running into her eyes. "I thought you would have figured it out by now Doctor. But maybe I've overestimated your talents. In a lot of things," she teased before launching a kick to Janice's face. But Janice blocked the kick and grabbed her knee, causing the taller blond to be knocked to the ground on her side. As she landed, she twisted her body diving for the gun a few feet away.

Diving after her, Janice managed to get a hold on Madaline for a few seconds before she slipped out of her grasp. Her clothes covered in mud and a steady stream of blood running down her temple and nose, she called forth all the strength she had left and punched Madaline's lower back, just above the kidneys, stopping Madaline's movements. Jerking herself from the ground, however, Madaline tossed Janice over her head, the archaeologist landing hard on her back.

Quickly regaining her balance, Janice got up and kicked the gun away. The gun was sent spiraling a few feet away. A look of unrestrained rage registered on Madaline's features as she charged Janice head on. Again, Janice delivered a series of punches to the woman's body and hit her in the face with her booted foot. The woman staggered, but still refused to go down. Janice continued her combinations on the stomach and in the side. Madaline looked up into Janice's eyes, a small sinister grin breaking across her face, before she yelled, and kicked the visibly tired, slightly bloody archaeologist squarely in the chest.

Getting the wind knocked out of her, Janice fell back on the muddy ground and watched as Madaline's small slender form walked above her, her slim legs resting on either side of Janice's hips. "Thought you'd be more of a challenge than this. I was looking forward to this and this is the best you could do. I'm disappointed, Janice. I guess the legend is lacking. Or perhaps love has made you soft," she taunted.

Pulling from strength she didn't know she possessed, Janice kicked Madaline's back simultaneously grabbing her calves and jerking them forward. The saturated soil providing no traction as Madaline's leg gave out from underneath her causing the tall blond to fall back onto the wet ground. "I can do better," Janice said rolling onto her feet.

Without warning, the sound of car engines broke through the pounding rain. Janice held her stomach and looked to the road as headlights approached fast. The cars stopped a few feet short of the first few trenches and began to fire at the men on horse back with amazing accuracy. The remaining men began to gallop back up the road. The men on foot broke into a run toward the forest while the others began to be picked off one by one by the mysterious snipers.

The momentary distraction is all that Madaline needed as her long arm reached for the wet, black revolver a couple of feet away. Cocking the gun, Madaline took aim and fired. The bullet whizzed past Janice's face embedding itself in the skull of a man with a long knife standing right behind her whom Janice was unaware was there. He staggered momentarily and dropped to the ground. "You're not going to die, Doctor Covington. Not yet anyway." Before Janice could registered Madaline's words, she rolled to her feet and gracefully jumped onto a brown horse waiting by the beginning of the road. Firing a single shot in the air as she departed, the remaining men on horseback followed her lead out past the cars and onto the slick, wet road.

Holding her side and wiping the blood from her face, she watched as the graduate student galloped away, her blond hair wiping in the strong wind as she was followed out by her seemingly loyal and fierce men. She was the one, Janice thought. She killed that worker and Jonathan. Realizing that the stone was now in her possession, Janice grimaced and vowed to see its safe return to honor the memories of her loyal crew members.

Approaching the parked cars as the gun fire subsided into only the occasional burst, Janice began to load her revolver not knowing who she was about to encounter. Clicking the chamber closed and cocking the gun, she aimed at the windshield of one of the cars, the bright headlights causing her to blink rapidly. "What the hell do you want?"

"Is that anyway to talk to your rescuers," a deep, slightly accented voice replied as a tall man exited the passenger side of one of the cars slamming the door shut. He motioned for his men to lower their weapons.

Looking around, Janice noticed the twenty or so men swiftly obeyed his commands, but this did not ease her concerns. "Well, let's just say I don't know who my friends are these days. I'm not taking any chances." Moving closer, she tightened her grip on the gun and continued. "I'm not going to ask again," she emphasized each word with a shake of the pistol.

"We are most definitely friends. Even though our last encounter ended somewhat on a bad note." The man moved closer as the headlights provided enough light for Janice to make out features.

"You." Her eyes widening. The raiding leader. The man who had shot Mel. The man who she had shot. She noted his slight limp as he slowly approached her with his arms up in the air. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't pull the trigger, you goddamn son of a bitch."

"I can help you fight the powers of darkness."

Squeezing the trigger, Janice yelled, "wrong answer!" The bullet lodged itself in the car's hood as the men in the truck and the raiding leader ducked for cover. "You almost killed one of the members of my crew not too long ago or I am to suppose to forget that!"

"No. Of course not. I deeply apologize Doctor Covington," he said holding a hand over his heart and bowing. "I...we thought that you were our enemy. I can see now that you are not."

"Oh, would you mind filling me in on the details. Starting with your name and why you are here."

"My name is Armand Keresapa and these men and I are known as the Preservers. We fight the forces of evil. Preserve the light and goodness of life. But now we are at a critical juncture, and if prophecy hold true this time he will enter the world."

"Can you lose cryptic language? Who is he?"

"Have you ever heard of a being called Dahak?"
===========================
The rain slowly receded as the continuous beat against the canvas roof subsided to only a few drops a minute. A low reverberation of thunder, however, rumbled overhead. The injured workers were loaded into the remaining truck and escorted toward the military infirmary by a few of Armand's men. Even though they risked being recaptured by the authorities, it was a risk these volunteers were willing to make for the lives of her workers. This gesture helped to alleviate some of Janice's nagging doubt. Although, it took her sometime to see Armand as an ally rather than an enemy. The image of a bullet fired from his weapon embedding itself into Mel's shoulder was a bit overwhelming at times.

Gathering around the small table in Martin's tent they used on poker nights, Armand commanded his men to patrol the area. With a firm bow, they moved their rifles over their shoulders and exited the tent. At least that was what Janice could surmise as Armand continued to speak to the remaining men in a language she couldn't understand. A commanding presence, Armand's broad, tall frame was accenutated by his long, black combat boots and army-styled green pants. His deep voice only added to the imposing package, but Janice could tell Armand led his men by resounding respect rather than fear.

Peeling off her drenched bomber jacket, Janice settled into the firm wooden motioning for Armand to do the same. When their leader was seated, the others in the group settled into their positions. "Looks like you put up quite a fight," he said pointing at Janice's raw, red dirt-covered fists.

"Not good enough. She got away didn't she," Janice replied folding her hands in front of her on the table careful not to make any movement that would strain her aching body. Her face was still littered with spots dried dirt and blood. The side of her mouth and her right temple had been cut during her confrontation with the strong, slender graduate student. Glancing down at herself for a moment, her normally green cotton shirt was now a dark shade of brown thanks to her dives head first into the slick, muddy ground outside. She knew however she didn't look half as bad as she really felt. Gently holding the side of body, Janice asked, "so, gentleman, do you mind explaining this Dahak person a little further?"

Armand nodded and leaned forward, his face washed over with complete seriousness. "Dahak is a force that cannot be let into the world. Ultimate darkness. Absolute evil. Dahak tried and failed to enter our domain thousands of years ago. Now, he seeks entrance again. He will destroy this world. The so-called cleansing where by humanity, as we know it, will be extinguished for all time. Only those who follow and serve Dahak's purposes will be sparred."

"How? Why now?" As much as Janice's rational mind screamed "foul" at the mere mention of dark forces and evil, she knew that there were just too many things in this world yet to explained by science. After all, she had had a conversation with both Ares, the Olympian God of War, and Xena, a long dead warrior, no less than a year ago.

"During the time of the great empires, a prophecy was maded that Dahak would try to enter this world once again during a time of great turmoil and despair when humanity was at its weakest. The prophecy spoke of great fires burning, man-made birds flying in the sky as battles raged on land, air and sea. War will rage as large empires battle, the prophecy states. A man from Rhineland will bring forth destruction and serve the dark ones purposes."

"Hitler," Janice whispered.

Armand nodded and continued, "As the blood of innocents, woman and children, soak the holy ground. . ."

"A world war...."

"When the prophecy was originally made. No one thought it would never come to pass and although our people prayed this day would never come it has...it is now!"

"But what does this have to do with the stone? Madaline?"

"The original prophecy is very specific as to where Dahak's return will happen...where he tried to gain entrance thousands of years ago. A temple just east of the Sister Peaks embedded in the side of the dormant volanco. But to open the gate, a true believer must open it as instructed by the sacred stone of the One god. That is what you found on this site, Doctor Covington as you were destined to, as it was written and recorded many centuries ago. Now, do you understand the gravity of the situation?"

"So you're telling me that Madaline now holds the key to unlocking the gates?"

"Yes. And if she is a true believer, the inheritor of Dahak's earthly power as we suspect, she is a very dangerous woman who will stop at nothing to fullfill her destiny as Dahak's second in command on earth. She is kalon kakon."

"Beautiful evil," Janice muttered. "Okay, but there is a way to stop this from happening right?"

"The battle for heaven and earth and the souls who inhabit both domains will rage once again as it did thousands of years ago. The window for ultimate evil to enter the world will open, unless..."

"Unless..."

"If our suspicions are correct and you are indeed a descendant of the betrayer...you Janice are ...are only hope."

"Me. But. . .betrayer?"

"A descendant of the bard Gabrielle who stopped Dahak once before by almost sacrificing her life."

"Yes."

"Then our destiny rest in your hands, Janice."

"No...NO," Janice voice rose. "Don't put the fate of the world in my hands. I'll...I'll probably drop it," she finally said exassperated.

"The stone is key and we must get it back and destroy it. We will serve you, Janice. My army is yours." The few men in the room lowered their weapons and dropped their heads in a sign of respect.

"I. . .don't," she stammered overwhelmed by information. "Do you know what is written on the stone?"

"Not specifically, but the opening of the window should involve blood sacrifices to the dark one."

"So Madaline would have to find victims," she said mostly to herself. "Do you have any idea where her army could be hiding? She seemed to have at least thirty men raiding here today. Something tells me there's probably more."

Armand turned to the slender, dark-skinned man sitting next to him whom he had introduced as Atar. He spoke softly and clear in a heavier accent than Armand, "I surmise that her camp must be close by for her to keep in such close connect with them. Perhaps, some of her men were even workers on site that way there would be clear lines of communincation." Atar wiped his brow and continued, "there are only a few places in the area that would house such a large group of men. Perhaps a village loyal to the dark one's cause provide housing and stables for the horses..."

Janice halted his articulate words with a hand and a shake of her head. "So in other words, you don't know."

"No. We don't. But she has to be in this countryside. With the Sister Peaks and temple so close by, this area is a strategic location. For her to venture out would be foolish."

"Like bringing mass destruction on the world isn't foolish," she replied.

"Can you recommend a course of action, Doctor Covington?" Armand said.

"Are there any abandoned structures in the area... airplane hangers, school buildings, anything?"

"There is an abandoned hospital about five miles west. The military abandoned it after building the new one in the northeast. But, we have made sweeps of it. There was no sign of anyone living there."

"How long ago was that sweep?"

"About two weeks ago. A few weeks after your team arrived on site."

"Check it again. Now that her goal is close at hand, she may be moving her resources closer to this area." Janice rose from her chair as she slipped on her leather jacket. The men also rose in a gesture of respect.

"Where are you going?"

"I have to make sure my crew is all right. For all they know, they probably think I'm dead."

"I would feel more comfortable if you had an escort." He paused as he rose from his seat.
"I'm going with you."

"But if they see you Armand, they'll arrest you."

"Your life is too important. We can't risk anything happening to you."

"Fate of the world." Armand nodded. "Okay, escort, let's go."
===========================
The clear plastic continued to hug her lengthy body, her arms wrapped around herself; the water long since evaporated leaving her skin uncharacteristically and uncomfortably cool. Her long, black hair was in disarray while her clothes were wrinkled from getting wet during the storm. Her socks were still moist which made themselves known everytime she took a step. A chill ran through her body as she felt the tarp being lifted from her body. She looked behind her and saw Charles offer a wool blanket. She let him drap it over her shoulders before resuming her watch near the a wide window on the military complex. The rain clouds had faded blowing westward leaving gray sunshine behind. "She going to be fine," Charles said softly. "She only wanted you to be safe."

"It was stupid for her to stay behind alone. She knows better..."

"She can take care of herself." His mind flashed to getting a few kicks to the stomach by Janice's short, booted foot. "Believe me."

Releasing her grip on the blanket, Mel pushed her still damp hair back and moved toward the green double doors. "Where are you...going?" The last word faded as he knew exactly where the dark-haired woman was headed. Running up past her, Charles stepped in front of her blocking her path to the door. "No, you are not going back. No."

"She could be hurt or worse." She tried to sidestep him, but he placed a firm grasp on her shoulders. "Charles, please let me go." She struggled trying to bat his hands away from her body, but he held firm.

"No. You may not be my fiance anymore, but I'm still your friend. I care about what happens to you, and I know that Janice wouldn't want you going back there." He released her from his secure hold before taking a breath. Taking a few steps forward, Charles held one of the doors open for her. "At least not alone anyway."

Mel's face registered a brief smile as she looked around and noticed that the rest of the crew were having a meeting with high ranking members of the Greek military. She walked toward Stavros' red truck and looked inside. The keys were still in the ignition. Saying a silent thank you to whatever force was watching over her, she motioned for Charles to get into the passenger seat. But before she could close the driver's seat door, Mel felt a hand capture her shoulder pulling her out before she got in. Whipping around to face her quiet attacker, her nerves were calmed when she saw Madaline's smiling face greet her. "You nearly scared me half to death," Mel whispered, her hand on her pounding chest.

"I seem to scare a lot of people these days," Madaline replied simply, the wide smile never leaving her face. "You're not going back are you?"

"Ah, yes. I'm a bit worried about Janice. She...she should have been back." Madaline's brown eyes were fulled with something Mel had never seen before. . .a wild, primal. . .rage! Suddenly, she felt the need to jump in the car and leave; get away from those eyes that seemed to hold the very secrets of death which no mortal claims to.

"Well don't worry about Janice." Madaline's hands reached behind her. Mel's face widened as she saw a the black revolver emerge from her waistband. "I'm sure she's licking her wounds nicely." Cocking the gun, Madaline placed the long barrel underneath Mel's chin. "Oh, to think. Janice would be heartbroken if something happened to you. And I assure you, it will."

Casting a brief glance over at the passenger's side, Mel could see Charles being dragged around the truck's front by two men in army uniforms. One of them had a firm hand over his mouth. "But...but what are you going to do..." Mel stammered unsure of why the crazed blond was doing this. "Why?"

"Everyone seems to be ask me that these days." Madaline shoved the gun harder into Mel's skin and looked into her blue eyes before lightly touching her face. "But I think mystery is so much more interesting don't you." Jerking the slightly taller woman around, Madaline removed a white handerchief from her pants pocket and placed it firmly over Mel's nose and mouth.

Mel couldn't fight the pungent odor slipping its way into her system; it was too overpowering. She felt her legs start to give way as she fell forward onto the car door. Before her world went black, she heard Madaline's voice echo through her consciousness. . . "Sweet dreams, precious Melinda." A giggle rose from Madaline's throat as darkness engulfed her.

Madaline placed Mel's limb body into the seat next to her while she motioned for the two get on board. The two men nodded before hitting Charles in the stomach and groin. Doubling over in pain, Charles tried to reach from the truck's side, but Madaline leaned out of the window and fired a single shot sending Charles back against the ground. "Don't worry Melinda, you'll see Janice again soon. You'll be able to spend your last moments together." She put the truck into drive and slowly made her way out of the high fence that marked the base's entrance point. They drove off and headed west.
===========================
"It has something I have prepared for my whole life so I don't know anything different." Armand continued to loaded his brown and black rifle carefully, each slug getting a host of attention before being loaded carefully into the shaft. "I just insure that I teach the future generations about the delicate balance between good and evil. The fine line between preservation and destruction."

"How have your people survived knowing that the world might just be coming to an end?"
Tipping her fedora back, Janice's eyes were placed firmly on the road, but her mind was filled with question that only Armand could answer.

"All things come to their ends, Janice. Life is a cycle and everything must cease to exist sometime." Pulling the shaft closed, he placed the gun against his thigh mindlessly rubbing the long, black barrel.

"So then why do you care if Dahak comes and destroys everything?"

"Ceasing to exist does not automatically equal death by destruction. It is not our time to end. In this I am certain. It is not humanity's fate to be extinguished unnaturally."

"Hmm...I've got to get used to this 'world in the palm of my hand' business. How am I suppose to defeat pure evil itself." She shifted uncomfortably at the dim prospect of being ill equiped to handle the duty destiny had handed her. "Does the prophecy state..."

"You will know the way when the time comes."

"Well, that just helps a whole bunch, thanks," she replied sarcastically.

"You have the wisdom to do what is right."

"I'm not all that smart. I couldn't recognize evil when it was right in front of my face..."

"You come from a long line of people who have pure hearts. . . pure souls. That is why this destiny has been entrusted to you."

"Are you sure you got the right line? My father was a wanted criminal. And I. . . I don't think my soul is all that..."

"Impure deeds do not mean impure soul. You have always fought for what you believe is right. And I'm sure you are deeply loyal and caring to those who have earned your trust. In your own way, you have fought for goodness all along...even if you didn't know it."

"I wouldn't go that far. But let's just hope I don't find some way to mess this up." Turning left in the fork, Janice spotted the high gray fence that marked the beginning of the base. "Remember just stay in the truck. I'm sure things will be fine. I'll signal if I need help."

Lowering his long, brown rifle and placing it underneath the dashboard, Armand looked ahead and saw a small crowd gather near the infirmary. "Looks like there's trouble all ready," he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the scene.

Her senses on high alert, Janice felt it. A unsettling wave passed through her and she knew. She knew before she stepped out of the truck. Slamming the truck door closed, she ran toward the form she recognized as Stavros. He saw her approach and a look of relief washed over his stern features. Before he could open his mouth, Janice said, "She's missing isn't she."

Stavros nodded and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Charles tried to stop them. He was shot. He's in recovery right now. Nothing serious. He's lucky. It only grazed his side. A couple of more inches to the right, he would have had serious liver damage." Stavros watched as Janice's eyes began to gaze over. "It looks like all the raiding was an inside job after all. Madaline seems to be involved with this somehow."

"I know," Janice muttered absently.

"How did you..."

"Let's just say she packs one hell of a right," she said gripping her chin in her hand. "How long ago..."

"About forty minutes ago. They have sent teams out looking for her, but. . ."

"I'll find her." Janice turned on her heels and walked toward the open door of her truck. "I've got to."