Page 48 of Claimed
“Well, gosh—it’s so intriguing what you’re doing, preserving cultural heritage while doing what’s right by the city as well. I’d have to think it would serve as a model for other reclamation or restoration projects.” She smiled with yet more earnestness. “Not that you necessarily need to share your success with the outside world, but—if you wanted, I could prepare a video segment developed specifically as a promo piece for those networks. You never know who could check it out. I know you’re busy but?—”
“Our success is Turkey’s success,” Omir said resolutely. “I like this idea of yours. How long would it take to produce?”
“I could have a rough cut to you tomorrow, and then you could have anyone you prefer edit the final. That way if you have more footage or interviews, you can add them.”
“Yes! Yes, that is good.”
As Stefan half-listened to their conversation, he allowed his attention to veer to the right again. To his surprise, a paneled van rolled out of the building—then another one. They turned left onto the access road, then disappeared over the side of the mountain.
He scowled. Were the workers being taken somewhere else? Or was this supposed departure of the vans a ruse to satisfy anyone who was curious at the excavation site? He narrowed his eyes as he looked at the building. It was built solidly, but there were flaws once you got high enough. There were windows in the upper reaches, as Nicki had pointed out. The roofline showed several doors on multiple levels, and even now one of the doors opened, and a man stepped out, a lit cigarette in his hand as he spoke on his phone.
So clearly, not everyone had left the facility. At least not yet.
“How long will you be staying with us?”
Omir’s question came as Nicki took the camera off her shoulder, and her gaze slid to Stefan. He nodded to her, then focused on Omir.
“We leave tomorrow,” he said, grateful that Nicki betrayed no reaction. “This visit has been very educational, and you have every right to be proud of your achievement here. We’re honored that you’ve shared it with us.”
He kept his smile steady. They’d hit the place tonight.
Thirty-Five
Nicki could barely contain her excitement throughout the departure from the ruins and the obligatory stop for a final drink with the Turkish official. She said all the right things in all the right places, but her mind was jumping ahead to the night that was drawing down.
Stefan had said they were leaving in the morning. That was news to her. She hadn’t said goodbye to Josef or his crew—hadn’t gotten a chance to tell him about the broken board. But that’s what email was for.
Besides, they were going to explore the warehouse asylum tonight. That trumped everything.
By the time they were alone again, back at the villa, she’d considered fifteen different scenarios for the exploration of the warehouse, rejecting each one. In the end, there really was only one option.
Stefan, as she expected, wasn’t amused.
“None of the men aboard the yacht are expert climbers, Nicki. That’s not going to work.”
“Of course it’s going to work! And I can tell by your voice, you know it too.” she protested. “The place is airtight except for the roof, and no one is expecting us there. Chances are theyhave some sort of guard sweep of the grounds during the night, especially if that’s when they dump the trash. If we go in at ground level, we’ll be spotted. Or you’ll be spotted, if you go in with your operatives. This isn’t about me, this is about getting in the best way.”
Stefan sent her a withering glare and she grinned. “Okay, so maybe it’s a little about me. But you have to admit, it’s the cleanest approach.”
“It’s the most foolish, certainly.” Stefan glared at the sketch she’d mapped out on her tablet. The cliff face wasn’t completely sheer, but the concrete walls were. “The warehouse is three stories high. That’s a lot of flat surface to cover.”
“It would be, except for this little detail.”
She went to her bag and pulled out her video camera, scrolling backward. “While you were chatting it up with Omir, I saw this.” She held it out to him, triumphantly.
He stared. “It’s the corner of the building.”
“It’s the corner of the building with a gutter,” she said. “A reinforced gutter, meant to last through any storm. They clearly weren’t interested in fixing anything that high up.” She zoomed in closer, and he squinted.
“That is not a solution, Nicki, that’s a death trap,” he said. “You’ve already climbed once today—and windsurfed.”
He was right, but she pushed his concerns aside. “I climbed downhill and I was on the water for, like, a millisecond.” When he didn’t say anything, she jabbed a thumb at the screen. “Oh, come on! There’s a tree line halfway up and then the gutter and its protection. You know it has to extend the whole way, otherwise, what’s the point of a gutter? It’s all we need for footholds. Our gear will do the rest.”
Stefan looked pained. “None of the men are trained in this type of climbing,” he said again.
“Well how many were you planning on bringing? This isn’t a police raid, it’s recon and maybe a rescue. We go in, we see what we see, and if what we see isn’t Ari, we get out. There were only, what, a dozen men who filed back into the building? Less than we thought for sure.”
“Less than we thought,” he said. “But how many more would be guarding them? If there’s any truth to the rumors about them harboring animals in there…”