After traveling for an hour, Nina wished she had an iPod.

The mountains were impressive at first, but after a while one brown peak looked much like another. The bumpy highway had been as smooth as a magic carpet ride compared to the potholed, twisting road they were now on, in places little more than a dirt track above a perilously steep slope. A lumbering diesel locomotive on the railway line below belched out fumes as it hauled a long string of grimy tanker trucks. Following the twin steel lines along the valley, she saw sidings alongside them about a mile ahead, another train stationary in one.

“How much farther is it, Hafez?” asked Chase.

“Not far,” Hafez said, pointing into the valley. “Past the train yard.”

“Thank God,” Nina sighed. The thin seats and constant bumping of the old Land Rover were becoming a literal pain in the butt. “Why did this guy want to meet all the way out here anyway? Couldn’t we just have met in the Tehran Hilton?”

“Christ, I wish,” said Chase. “Nah, he’s being cautious. Which means we need to be too.”

“Do you expect trouble?” Kari asked.

“We’re spending ten million dollars to buy an ancient artifact stolen off a maniac from a very dodgy bloke in a remote part of Iran. Don’t you?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Once again, you have a point.”

Ten bumpy minutes later, Hafez brought the Land Rover to a halt outside an abandoned farmhouse. The train yard was out of sight behind them around a bend in the valley; even the railway lines had disappeared into a tunnel below. A steep, dusty rise above the house was topped by scrubby trees, while on the other side of the structure the slope dipped sharply down to the valley floor. There was no other trace of human habitation in sight.

“Hugo, check around the back of the house,” Chase said, sharp and businesslike again. “Hafez, stay with Dr. Wilde and Ms. Frost. Any sign of trouble, get them out of here.”

“Where are you going?” Kari asked.

“To make sure the house is empty.” He got out of the Land Rover and took a powerful LED flashlight from a pocket. “If I’m not out in two minutes,” he told Hafez, “that’s a sign of trouble.” The Iranian nodded as the two other men jogged to the farmhouse.

It actually took less than two minutes for Chase to reappear, Castile completing his circle of the building soon after. “It’s clear,” Chase said, returning to the Land Rover. “Only two rooms, and nowhere for anyone to hide.”

“Nobody around the back,” added Castile.

“Okay then,” Chase continued, “this road’s the only way in or out. Anyone comes, we’ll have plenty of warning.”

“I don’t think he’s coming by road,” said Castille, an odd expression of distaste on his face.

“Why?”

“Can’t you hear it?”

Chase tipped his head to the side, then grinned. “Oh yeah,” he said, clapping the Belgian on one shoulder. “It’s the sound of your nightmares! Woo, it’s coming to get you!”

“As you so elegantly say in England… piss off.”

Nina moved to the open door to listen. “What’s the matter?” She could hear it now, an unmistakable clatter echoing from the surrounding mountains.

“Hugo once had a bad experience with a helicopter,” Chase said. “So now he’s got a phobia about them. Chopperphobia! Every time he sees one, he reckons something’s going to go wrong and kill him.”

“They fly with huge whirling blades spinning at insane speeds!” Castille protested. “How can they not be dangerous?”

“Well, you just keep your head down back here and I’ll meet him when he lands, okay?” Chase winked at him, then added in a quieter, more serious voice, “Keep an eye open.” Castille nodded.

The helicopter swept over the rise above the farmhouse. The type was familiar to Nina from hundreds of movies and TV shows, and even a couple of flights as a passenger: a Bell Jet Ranger, a civilian workhorse found all around the world. It made a rapid circle of the farmhouse, then came to a hover and landed about a hundred feet from the Land Rover.

Chase waited for the rotors to slow, then walked over. Hajjar had brought company. As well as the pilot, there were three other people in the Jet Ranger. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight of the Wildey.45 Winchester Magnum in its holster under his jacket, ready for use in an instant. Just in case.

The helicopter’s rear doors opened, two large, bearded men in dark suits and sunglasses jumping out and surveying the area before fixing their black-hole stares on Chase. He stared back, unintimidated. From the way they held themselves he could tell they were ex-military-but just regular soldiers, not special forces. Definitely nowhere near SAS level. He could handle them.

One of the men leaned closer to the helicopter and spoke in Farsi. The door opened, and Failak Hajjar emerged.

Unlike his bodyguards, Hajjar was dressed in traditional Arab robes. But like them, he was wearing sunglasses-though his were far more expensive.

Another man followed him out. He was white, with short spiky hair, several days’ growth of stubble and a distinctly wary air. Chase guessed it was Yuri Volgan.

“Are you Chase?” Hajjar called.

“Yes!”

“Where is Ms. Frost?”

“Where’s the artifact?” Chase demanded. Hajjar glowered, then reached back into the Jet Ranger and took out a small black leather briefcase. Nodding, Chase backed away, heading to the Land Rover.

“In the house,” said Hajjar, gesturing with the briefcase. “Out of the wind, yes?”

“What wind?” Chase muttered. Now that the rotors had stopped, there was only an intermittent breeze. He checked the area once more for signs that they weren’t alone, but saw none.

He reached the Land Rover. “Well?” Kari asked.

“Looks okay, but…” He glanced around again, surveying the landscape. No sign of anyone-not that somebody couldn’t be in hiding nearby. “Just be careful, okay?”

“You don’t trust him?” said Nina.

“Christ, no. I’m just not sure exactly how much I don’t trust him. Okay, Hafez, you wait out here. Any trouble, sound the horn.”

“I will.” Hafez reached under the dashboard and pulled out a revolver, which he placed on his lap.

Chase opened the door for Nina, Castille doing the same for Kari. “I’ve got to say, I’m a bit nervous about all the guns,” Nina told Chase.

“What? Thought you archaeology types were always running around shooting people, like Indiana Jones.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Hardly. The only shooting I do is with a camera.”

“I hope it stays that way,” said Kari as she headed for the farmhouse, the hem of her white coat flaring out around her as she walked. Hajjar and his companions stopped outside the door of the little building, unable to take their eyes off her. “After you,” she told them, gesturing inside with her own slim steel briefcase.

The interior of the farmhouse was dark, the only light coming from a single window. Although the room’s contents had mostly been cleared out when its owners abandoned it, there was still a long table made from roughly hewn wood in the center.

Castille took a large glow stick from his jacket and bent it to crack the glass inside, chemicals mixing to release a vivid orange light like a fireside glow. Such a strong reaction, Nina knew, would only be able to sustain itself for fifteen minutes at most, so presumably the entire transaction was expected to be completed before then. She didn’t feel comfortable about that. It meant she would have to determine the authenticity of the artifact in a rush-and if she was wrong, the Frosts would be down ten million dollars. She could do without that kind of pressure.

So she would just have to be right.

Hajjar and his bodyguards stood at one end of the table, Chase, Kari and Castille at the other. Nina found herself facing Volgan. The Russian seemed worried, fingers jittering with nervous energy.