Restless Soul - Alex Archer [107]
Pete reached into a big briefcase he’d sat on the floor and pulled out a laptop and a cell phone and put them on her bedside table.
“Thank you,” she said.
“There are some news reporters downstairs, and a couple of TV crews. The doctors are keeping them at bay, but they’ll eventually get up here. Reporters always do.”
Annja frowned. “There are some people I want to talk to, but I’d rather avoid the news.”
Pete laughed louder. “That isn’t going to happen.”
She ran her fingers over the laptop. “Will this—”
“They have Wi-Fi here. Yeah, it’ll work.” He pointed to the phone. “That is prepaid, so take care with your calls, because when that one is empty, you’re on your own.”
Annja smiled. She was always on her own.
She had to admit that she felt much better than she had in days. A glance under the covers revealed that her leg had been rebandaged, and her left arm was in a loose sling. She felt a little pulling from the stitches where the bullets had been.
“We’ll leave you be for a while,” Pete said. “But we’ll be back after dinner. Some reports to fill out, plenty of questions to ask, that sort of thing.” He tipped his head and spun around in military fashion, walking out of the room with the other men nodding politely to her and following.
Annja punched in the number for the lodge and asked the man at the front desk if he would please find Luartaro.
“He checked out, Miss Creed. Early yesterday. He and his film crew packed up and took the bus to the city and the airport. But he left a note for you.”
Annja asked him to read it.
Dear Annja:
What a remarkable, memorable, hell of a vacation this has been. I must get back, however—the next class session is starting soon and I’ve got to prepare for it. We have to package and sell the film from the spirit caves. I have offers from a few networks already.
I hope you don’t mind, dear heart, but when you went off to Chiang Mai without me, I contacted a local film crew and had a go at the story myself. Some of the water receded and we got excellent shots of those bodies in the teak coffins. We made history.
I’m sure if you and your crew ever show up you can concoct a monster for your program.
I would like to see you again, sweet Annja, in your country or in mine. Please stay in touch.
Love, Lu
Annja hung up the phone and flopped her head back on the pillow. She couldn’t blame him…not really. The previously undiscovered teak coffins with the human remains were the real treasure of the spirit caves. She’d wanted them for a Chasing History’s Monsters special, but she was fine with Luartaro getting the credit. Annja had more than enough hours in the spotlight, and apparently would be getting more if the television crews downstairs had their way.
She still was bothered that Luartaro took the ancient jewelry from the cave…and she would stay in touch with him, if only to discuss that and come to some resolution.
And there was the matter of the skull bowl in a museum in Florida. She’d travel there to make sure it didn’t have a seal and dog tags.
A knock on the door interrupted her musings.
A nurse opened it a crack. “I speak English,” she announced.
“Yes?”
“You have a visitor, Miss Creed.”
Annja groaned. She didn’t want to deal with the media yet. She shook her head. “No. I need my rest.”
“I understand.” She started to back out. “He is a Frenchman. Said he came a long way. But he can wait. I will tell him to come back—”
“Wait.” Annja sat up a little straighter. “You can send Roux in.” She had a lot to tell him.
Epilogue
Vietnam, July 1966
Lightning flashed and the ground rocked again and again. Above the patter of the driving rain, the whisper-hiss of machine-gun fire reached inside the old stone building.
Sanduski risked a glance outside to see mud spitting up around the feet of his sergeant.
Gary Thomsen screamed when the bullets chewed into his legs, and he fell face forward.
“Wallem!” he managed before he hit the mud.