The Relic Runner Origin Story Box Set by Ernest Dempsey (non fiction books to read TXT) 📕

He’d probably only had fifteen to twenty minutes to get out of the area before the cavalry showed up to rescue the colonel and his men.

Twenty minutes for Dak Harper, though, was an eternity.

He knew how to disappear, to blend in, to vanish like an apparition. He also knew all the tricks the military would employ to hunt him down. The colonel’s vast net could stretch across the globe. Still, Dak remained a step ahead, making his way farther north until he reached the Turkish border. He crossed under the cover of darkness, though the night provided little in the way of camouflage with a nearly full moon hanging in the sky above.

Once Dak was across the border into Turkey, he continued northeast until he reached the small town of Tatvan on Lake Van.

Tatvan was the town time forgot, which was easy to see due to its remote location. A valley stretched between mountains and hills, running until it stopped at the lake’s lip.

The enormous body of water encompasses over 1400 square miles and is one of the world’s largest endorheic lakes, meaning it has no natural outlet. Fish are rare in the lake, though one species—the Pearl Mullet—visits during the spring to spawn in the brackish waters.

Dak liked the location, but he knew he couldn’t stay. Even though Tatvan was as good a place as any for him to disappear, that wasn’t his primary objective. Not yet. Keeping invisible was paramount, to be sure, but he had another pressing item on his agenda: Bo Taylor and his crew.

It wasn’t just about revenge, though Dak knew a measure of it was exactly that. But he also needed to clear his name. The colonel would—no doubt—go to the ends of the earth to make sure Dak was found, and that he paid for his crimes, crimes he didn’t commit.

The colonel didn’t know that, and Dak had to remind himself of that fact. In his mind, the colonel was merely doing his job, taking care of his fellow Americans in the face of a perceived threat. Dak didn’t blame the colonel. The man needed proof, evidence that Bo and the others were the real villains in this scenario. That would come, though Dak knew he had to be patient.

He wondered if Bo and the others knew of his escape yet. Dak assumed that was the case, but they would pull their own disappearing act soon if they hadn’t already.

It had been three days since his near arrest at the base. Bo and the others were slated to fly back to the states yesterday. They were long gone and finding them now would prove difficult. Dak didn’t mind a challenge. In this case, he relished it. He was the hunter. Could he be more than that? Perhaps he wasn’t just a hunter of people? Dak needed time to think about it. Since a network in the antiquities black market would be a necessity to track down Bo and the others, perhaps he needed to start there and become what he’d heard of only once before.

Relic runners were thieves who had a penchant for acquiring rare artifacts. Sometimes they sold the goods, other times they kept them for themselves until the value went up. Some relic runners worked for wealthy benefactors while others worked for no one else, choosing to go it alone.

Dak could see the benefits of either, but if this was going to be his new life, his new identity, he’d need to learn more about this unusual group of people.

He switched on the laptop he’d purchased earlier that morning from an electronics shop in the center of town. The laptop didn’t have the latest or fastest components, but it would get the job done.

Dak had already moved his money, withdrawing a significant portion of his savings account at the local bank. He’d open shadow accounts with the cash as soon as he could procure a false identity, but that would take time. The only contact he knew of with those kinds of connections was his old friend Theo. Last Dak heard Theo was in Bangkok. That meant Dak would need to make a trip to Thailand soon.

He noted several tourists walking by with cameras and wondered where they’d been. The remote town didn’t strike him as much of a tourist destination. The vistas overlooking the lake, the mountains, the valley, were spectacular to be sure, but he couldn’t imagine coming all the way out here on a vacation. Not only was the town of Tatvan in the middle of nowhere, but it also played host to harsh winters, in part because of its elevation over 5000 feet above sea level.

The waiter returned—a young man with swept brown hair and a thin mustache. He was skinny and medium height, wearing a white button-up shirt and a black tie with matching black pants.

“Can I get you anything else?” the waiter asked with a pleasant smile.

“Actually,” Dak said, “I was wondering about those tourists,” he pointed at the group as they disappeared around the corner, pointing at buildings, taking pictures with their cameras and phones, and chattering in French.

The waiter followed his finger to the group as they meandered out of sight.

“Is there some famous spot around here they were visiting?”

The young man looked at him quizzically, then shrugged. “Nemrut Dag.” Upon seeing the confusion in his patron’s eyes, he explained further. “There are ancient ruins on top of the mountain. It is the place where King Antiochus I built his tomb and a temple, both to honor himself and the gods.”

Dak’s interest piqued at the information, but he wasn’t here on a sightseeing trip. As much as he’d love to climb the mountain and examine this ancient site, he didn’t have that kind of time. He had to get a new identity before the colonel’s net closed in around him. Once he was a new man, he could re-establish his life for a while, drop off