Page 8 of Enticing Kane

As he rounded a large rock that jutted out from the ground, he caught sight of the intruder. The figure was crouched near one of the partially uncovered stone slabs, their attention focused on the symbols etched into the ancient rock. Kane could see the glint of something metallic in their hand—possibly a tool, but it could just as easily be a weapon.

Kane stepped closer, his voice low and commanding. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

The figure froze, his head snapping up to look at him. In the dim light, Kane could make out a man, middle-aged, with a look of panic in his eyes. The man scrambled to his feet, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender, but Kane didn’t relax. His finger hovered near the trigger, ready to act if the situation escalated.

“Who are you?” Kane demanded, his tone leaving no room for lies.

“I-I’m just a local,” the man stammered, his voice trembling. “I didn’t mean any harm. I was just curious… about the dig.”

Kane’s eyes narrowed. The man’s story didn’t add up. No local would risk sneaking into a guarded site just out of curiosity, especially not at this hour. “What were you doing with that stone?” Kane asked, his voice icy.

The man hesitated, his gaze flicking nervously between Kane and the slab. “I… I was just looking. I heard stories… about what’s buried here. I wanted to see it for myself.”

Kane didn’t believe a word of it. “You’ve seen enough. Now get out of here before I decide to take you in for questioning.”

The man nodded rapidly, clearly eager to escape. He backed away slowly, then turned and bolted into the darkness, his footsteps fading into the night. Kane watched him go; his eyes narrowed in suspicion. There was more to this than a simple trespasser. The man had been too interested in the symbols, too intent on whatever he had been doing.

Syria’s laws regarding their ancient objects were harsh, and locals knew better than to risk it. There was a market for antiquities, and the prices could tempt some, but like so many things, stealing and smuggling relics had fallen to more organized, better-funded, and well-armed organizations.

Kane knelt beside the slab, examining it closely. There was nothing immediately out of place, but his instincts told him that the man had been searching for something specific. He made a mental note to inform Maggie and the rest of the team in the morning, though he doubted they would sleep any easier knowing that someone had been poking around their dig site.

He stood, his mind already moving to the next task. There was a strategy session scheduled for later, one he had been dreading but knew was necessary. Colonel John Carter had joined them and had been unusually tight-lipped about the full scope of his mission and the role his team played in it. Kane was determined to get some answers. Whatever was happening here, there was more to it than anyone knew. He might be here to protect Maggie, but he had expanded his own responsibilities to include protecting the entire archaeological team, and Kane needed to know what he was up against.

The strategy session was held in a large, reinforced tent that served as the command center for the operation. The space was dominated by a table strewn with maps, satellite images, and various reports. A few military personnel were gathered around it, their expressions serious, though their eyes flicked to Kane with a mixture of respect and wariness as he entered. Colonel Carter stood at the head of the table; his tall, imposing figure framed by the dim light of the lanterns hanging overhead.

Kane walked in, his presence commanding attention. He didn’t bother with pleasantries, moving directly to the table and taking a seat across from Carter, laying his M27 on the table. The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with unspoken questions and hidden agendas.

Carter wasted no time, his voice curt as he began the briefing. “Our primary objective remains the same—the protection of Dr. Dillon and her team. However, recent developments have forced us to reassess the situation.”

Kane’s eyes narrowed. “What developments?”

Carter met his gaze, his expression unreadable. “We’ve received intelligence that suggests the site may be of interest to more than just academic circles and the Syrian’s Department of Antiquities. Certain factions in the region have taken an interest in the artifacts being uncovered, and they may attempt to take control of the site.”

Kane leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. “What aren’t you telling me, Colonel? What’s really at stake here?”

Carter’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “That’s classified, Chaplin. All you need to know is that we’re dealing with a potential threat, and it’s your job to ensure that threat doesn’t materialize.”

Kane’s frustration flared. “That’s not good enough. I don’t answer to you, and my only actual responsibility is to protect Dr. Dillon. I’ve expanded that to include her bunch of archaeologists, but now you’re telling me there’s more to it? I need to know what we’re up against.”

Carter’s eyes flashed with irritation, but he kept his tone controlled. “You’re a contractor, Chaplin. Your job is to follow orders, not to question them.”

Kane’s hand curled into a fist beneath the table. He had dealt with plenty of military brass in his time, and he knew when someone was holding back vital information. But Carter’s stonewalling was putting them all at risk, and that was something Kane couldn’t accept.

“If you expect me to cooperate with you and take lead on protecting these people, I need the full picture,” Kane insisted, his voice a growl. “I don’t care about your classified bullshit. If there’s more at stake than you’re letting on, I need to know what it is.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between Kane and Carter thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Carter sighed, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “All right, Chaplin. I’ll give you this much: there’s a belief that the artifacts Dr. Dillon is working to uncover could be of significant value—not just historically, but strategically. There are… certain parties interested in acquiring them for reasons that go beyond simple academic curiosity.”

Kane’s mind raced as he absorbed this information. “Strategically? You mean they could be weaponized?”

Carter didn’t answer directly, but the look in his eyes was enough. Kane sat back in his chair, the pieces of the puzzle starting to come together. He’d wondered why the military had made their presence known a couple of days after his arrival. This wasn’t just about protecting Maggie and her team from local militias or opportunistic thieves. This was about something far more dangerous—something that could shift the balance of power in the region, or even beyond.

“Why wasn’t I told this from the moment you got here?” Kane asked, his voice calm but laced with anger.

“Because it wasn’t your concern,” Carter replied, his tone cold. “Your job is to keep them safe, and that hasn’t changed. The specifics of the mission are above your pay grade.”

Kane’s eyes narrowed. “You have no idea what my pay grade might be. Cerberus pays its people really well. And if those specifics put my team at risk, they are my concern.”

Carter leaned in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Cerberus was allowed on this dig site because of your reputation, Chaplin. You’re one of the best at what you do, but that doesn’t give you the right to question my orders. You do your job, and I’ll do mine. Understood?”

---