The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers) Read Online Free PDF Page A

time already?”
    Laura
looked at her watch.
    “No, not
for another five minutes.” She looked around then sighed. “Must be Terrence
again, I don’t see him anywhere. I’m going to have to have a talk with him. The
self-defense training is encouraged, but not at the expense of his studies.”
    Terrence
Mitchel was a young university doctoral candidate from the University College
of London where Laura taught. He was eager, brilliant, and had discovered
recently he loved shooting things. After the events in London and elsewhere
around the globe, Laura had used her considerable inherited wealth to provide
both her dig site in Egypt and Acton’s in Peru with exceptional security,
provided mostly by ex-SAS British Special Forces.
    Acton
knew they both slept at night a little more secure knowing these guys were
around, but also because they were taking the opportunity to be trained in
self-defense techniques, along with how to handle pretty much every weapon
imaginable. This training had saved their asses on more than one occasion, and
allowed them to contribute meaningfully to several operations they had been
mixed up in.
    After
the recent turmoil in Egypt, Laura had thought it might be a good idea if the
students, at least those interested, were taught some basic self-defense and
survival skills.
    They had
both been stunned when every single student requested the training.
    So at
ten each morning the camp would gather for one hour and train with the SAS
guards. Much of it was straight physical fitness, but at least half of every
session was basic hand-to-hand combat and weapons training, along with a five
to ten minute lecture on surviving a hostage situation, tricks on how to break
out of zip ties, how to kick down doors, and a myriad of other things that
Acton wished he had known years ago. His training with the National Guard and
his tour during Desert Storm hadn’t prepared him for much of what he’d been
through. Straight combat, sure, but escape and evade, recon, hostage rescue,
sniper tactics, etc., were all Special Forces type training that he had never
been exposed to.
    He and
Laura took these training sessions seriously, discussing each lesson amongst
themselves, and now the students, while working the site. They all found talking
about what had just been taught reinforced it in their minds, and they all knew
it just might save their lives one day.
    Reading’s
head poked out from the air conditioned tent.
    “What
the bloody hell was that?”
    “Self-defense
training starts in five. Want to join us?” asked Laura, still on her knees,
chipping away hundreds of years of caked dirt from what they had determined to
be the foundation of a house, probably from around two thousand years ago.
    “Between
the Falklands War and you two, I’ve heard enough gunfire for a lifetime.”
    He
disappeared back into the tent as Chaney roared with laughter at his former
boss. “He just wants to get back to the air conditioning.” Chaney turned to the
professors, hands on his hips. “Rather than shoot at paper targets, I think
I’ll go for my morning constitutional.”
    “Huh?”
    “‘Walk’,
dear,” explained Laura.
    “Oh.”
    “See you
soon,” said Chaney who then strode away from the camp and the dig site.
    “Where
do you think he goes?” asked Acton.
    Laura
shrugged. “Probably nowhere in particular. There’s not much to see around here,
we are kind of in the middle of nowhere.”
    Acton
stretched his back then wiped his brow with a handkerchief he had fished from
his pocket.
    “If he
finds an ice cream stand, let me know.”
    “At ten
in the morning? You’ll lose your figure,” teased Laura.
    Acton
dropped his head, raising his eyebrows, and gave her a look.
    “Exsqueeze
me? I’ll have you know my stomach is still flat after all these years, despite
your cooking.”
    Laura
feigned hurt.
    “Are you
insulting my cooking?”
    Acton
grinned and wrapped his arm across her shoulders, drawing her into