The Schliemann Legacy Read Online Free PDF

content of her stomach would melt lead.
    Following George's appearance at the gym, he had suggested they take a short drive down the coast. Katrina had hurried off to make herself presentable. After a quick shower, she rushed into the midday sun. Instead of the leotard and sport shoes, she now wore a simple shift of white cotton and open sandals. Her tan was dark against the bright cloth. With George in his open necked shirt, they looked like tourists heading out of Athens for an afternoon at the sea.
    George evaded any mention of her reactivation and said little about their destination or the actual mission. Katrina hated to press him for information. He was the only friend she had in the higher echelon of the service. Because of Stefandis' obvious hatred, most treated her as a pariah. All the same, she was becoming impatient with the silence.
    "Can you tell me what's going on?" she asked, finally.
    "What?" George glanced at her and the car veered toward the shoulder of the road. Looking to her right, Katrina swallowed hard. There was no shoulder - only a fifty foot drop to the rocks and water below.
    "I said," she shouted, "can you tell me what's going on? Why are we going wherever it is we're going?"
    George looked over again and Katrina grabbed the steering wheel. George smiled and turned his attention back to the road. "Relax," he said. "You shouldn't be so tense."
    "Just watch the road. I can hear you without you looking at me."
    "All right," George laughed. "Our destination is a small, unimportant dig in the southwest. The dig itself is inconsequential, but the archaeologist working the site is important to us. Do you know anything about Heinrich Schliemann and his discovery of Troy?"
    "Naturally. Every school child knows about him."
    "Yes, well, be that as it may, I think you might need a little brushing up for this mission. Since I'd rather be outside today than in a library, we'll visit the professor." George reduced his speed and steered the car down a road that was little more that a wide cart track. The suspension protested at each rut and Katrina's voice vibrated as they bounced along.
    "Why do I need to brush up on some man who's been dead for, what, almost a hundred years?"
    "Let's just hear what this professor has to say first, shall we?" George suggested, pulling off to the side. "The dig is right up here."
    George shut off the engine and got out. He was several paces away before Katrina, exasperated, got out to follow him. She trotted up beside him and together they walked through the large gates marking the entrance of the excavation. Two huge dolphins, remarkably well preserved, adorned the top of the arch. Katrina recognized the stone carvings as dedications to Poseidon, the god of the sea.
    Just inside the gates, two local men wearing side arms ordered them to stop. The rusted pistols, dating back to the Italian invasions of World War Two, were useless. George flashed his identification, which did little to impress the illiterate guards. After several minutes of fruitless arguing, George handed each guard several folded bills. "Just tell the professor we would like to speak with him," he said. "I'm sure he'll see us."
    With the money in their hands, all sense of duty disappeared. The guards immediately dispatched a runner who returned moments later. After relaying a message to the guards, the boy motioned for Katrina and George to follow him and they wound their way through the ruins. Almost reverently, Katrina passed the partial walls and fallen buildings, lightly dragging her fingertips along the worn stonework crafted by artisans dead for thousands of years.
    The creations were exquisite examples of Greek capabilities, she thought as she walked along. At one time, Greece had led the civilized world in all aspects of life. Could the Greek people ever be that great again? Katrina doubted her countrymen were up to the challenge, but the solution was not to deny the past.
    Unlike Stefandis, Katrina