Restless Soul (Rogue Angel, Book 28)
Alex Archer, Jean Rabe
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
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?
she decided, and it would be justified. But maybe he would also smile when she told him they’d been saved by bat droppings. She ventured into the next tunnel that she came across, this one wider at the base and roughly egg-shaped. She thought for a moment the route was taking her deeper still, but it was only a depression she had stepped in. After a few more yards, the floor rose again and the water dropped back down to her thighs. Bats rustled above her. A good sign, she thought. Several of
teacher from Baton Rouge who frequented the archaeology blogs and chat lists on the weekends and in the summer months, calling himself a “lurker,” but often contributing useful tidbits. He’d helped Annja in the past, but she hadn’t heard from him personally in more than a year. He must have been on the internet cruising through the chat lists when she’d sent the images and description of the skull bowl. Lucky for her, she thought. She remembered Vaughan’s past information being reliable, though
Province.” Annja had no idea where that was. “In Northern Thailand?” He shook his head as he took the praying-mantis stance. “Vietnam. Why is this so important? Why does a dead woman want to know about me? A soon to be very dead woman.” The last comment tipped her off. She glanced to the back of the shop, where Kim’s nephew leaned against the door frame, one hand cradling the side of his head, the other holding the gun he’d retrieved. Annja dipped down and reversed her grip on the sword,
Northern Thailand. The dig is off-limits, and the skeleton predates the coffins you will see. But this cave painting you can look at. Do not touch, though.” Annja squinted to make out a faded design. At first glance it looked like a shadow or a smudge. Beneath it, affixed to the stone, was a large black-and-white photograph of what the painting had looked like before tourists had rubbed it away by touching it. The photograph clearly showed a deer, an arrow and the sun overhead. “There’s writing
dozen. All of them were filled with dog tags. She looked at the Sandman’s dog tag. Sanduski, Merle M., Catholic. “Pretty demon, what did you do with that sword you were waving around?” Annja shoved him into a chair. “That sword looked old. I could probably find a buyer who’d give you a sweet dollar for it, pretty demon. Set it up for you if you let me walk out the door. I’ve only got a few weeks, anyway. I’ll be dead before any trial. No need to put me through that, huh?” He rubbed at a spot