Restless Soul (Rogue Angel, Book 28)
Alex Archer, Jean Rabe
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In 1966, a group of battle-weary American GIs trekked through the Vietnamese jungle knowing each step could mean facing the enemy's guns. But instead of ambush, they stumbled upon a hidden treasure beyond their wildest dreams. It was a discovery that exacted a terrible cost.
A vacation spot picked at random, Thailand is intended to provide relaxation time for globe-trotting archaeologist Annja Creed. Yet the irresistible pull of the country's legendary Spirit Cave lures Annja and her companions deep within a network of underground chambers—nearly to their deaths. The ancient burial sites have slumbered through the ages. Yet no rest is found there—just the voices of the dead. When the dead speak, will they help Annja uncover the perplexing past of a remarkable find or will they call her to join them?
turned away from the coffins and looked back the way they’d come. Water was spilling into their chamber, meaning the tunnel they’d taken to get there was completely flooded, and the chamber was going to fill next. “All the rain,” she said, her voice cracking with nervousness. “Yesterday, and today. That underground river is rising quickly. We might soon be dealing with a considerable flood.” Again she felt for the sword at the edge of her mind. This time its presence offered no comfort. It
pyre remembered for all time? Had someone wielded the sword before Joan? And who would have it after Annja was dust? The tip of blade caught the end of the machine gun and turned it, bullets still spitting and striking the school building again and chewing into an empty bench out front. Annja pulled the blade back again and brought it down and around, powered by the fading strength in her burning arms. The impossibly sharp edge struck the machine gun once more and the gunman’s fingers,
said aloud. “At least not without quite a bit of searching. But you vile men are showing me the way. Might as well have put up a road sign, as clumsy as you idiots are. Please, still be there.” She very much wanted to confront them—and despite her distaste of violence, she planned to make them pay. She climbed slower than she would have liked, but she was still fatigued from yesterday’s rigorous ordeal. The stitches in her leg from where the retired veterinarian had cut out the bullets pulled.
She reached the resort on the outskirts of town before sunset and parked the truck in front of the office. There was no trail wide enough leading to the cabins and she wasn’t about to ruin the manicured gardens for her convenience. She made a quick check on her prisoner, who looked the worse for wear but in no danger of dying, then she headed inside, relayed the bad news about Zakkarat, made sure someone would contact his family, and then she asked about Luartaro. Yes, he’d returned, but he’d
guards; and graceful ladies in painted gowns that pooled around their bases. The shelves were narrow and filled with ceramic figurines that looked delicate and valuable, and old. She spotted Kim ducking behind a shelf filled with terra-cotta pieces that could have come from a dig. The rest of the details were lost in the shadows and in her hurry to catch the man. 26 Faint sounds indicated Kim was making another call. “Get here now!” he whispered to someone. Then he snapped the phone closed