Disclaimer: I don't own Human Target and intend no copyright infringement.
"Hope you're ready for a lesson in history", Jessica said and started walking off the platform, towards her makeshift clinic. "In 212, Septimius Odaenathus, a Prince of Palmyra, was appointed by Roman emperor Valerian as the governor of the province of Syria. He took residence in his family's palace - the huge stone steps and the lonely wall with the lion that we passed on our way in here once belonged to the palace's west wing." She pointed in the direction of a couple of ruins, vaguely discernible in the fading light of the evening.
"Odaenathus moved in with his son, Vabalathus, and his wife Zenobia, a woman widely known for her mesmerizing beauty. Syria's version of Cleopatra, if you will." Jessica paused for a moment, as if she had only just noticed the similarities between the two women. Ames wondered if the doctor realized that the setting sun was bathing her in golden light and making her skin glow. Judging from the degree of attention he was paying her, Chance had noticed for sure. It wasn't like him to listen that carefully to background information, he usually relied on Winston for a brief summary. Ames frowned and pressed her lips together.
"The comparison is actually quite fitting...", Jessica continued. "As it turned out, Zenobia was not only as beautiful as Cleopatra, she was also just as ambitious. Not long after Odoaenathus started ruling the province, he was assassinated. Allegedly by his nephew Maconius, but recent studies indicate that Zenobia herself was the perpetrator. Apparently she was quite a talented poisoner..."
"Never underestimate a chick with a purpose", Guerrero muttered, his eyes resting on Ilsa just as intensely as Chance's were on Jessica.
"Zenobia took over her husband's position, ruling Palmyra on behalf of her son, but it didn't end there: She rebelled against Roman authority and managed to establish an empire of her own. When she occupied Antioch and large sections of Asia Minor, the Romans had enough. In 272, Aurelian besieged and sacked Palmyra. Zenobia was brought to Rome and paraded in golden chains. However, she didn't end up as dinner for the circus lions - she was allowed to retire to a mansion in Tibur where she died in peace a couple of years later."
"It's not that this isn't terribly interesting", Ames chimed in, "but what exactly does that have to do with the six dead guys underneath the tarp and, more importantly, with us?"
If Jessica noticed the attitude Ames' comment was tinged with, she didn't show it. Instead she stopped once more, of course illuminated by golden light again, and turned around so that she was facing the desert. "Legend has it that shortly after the fall of Antioch, when Zenobia realized that her days as empress were coming to an end, she forced the priests of the Ba'al temple to hand the temples' treasure of gold coins over. We're talking about several baskets of coins here, worth millions in nowadays' US dollars..."
As if on cue, a cool breeze, the first harbinger of the desert nights' icy cold, brushed over their faces like a breath from a ghastly past long gone.
"According to the ancient stories, Zenobia loaded all the gold on the back of camels and sent the caravan to her secret hideaway. She wanted to use the money to hire mercenaries. I would have been enough for a pretty impressive private army and it might have saved her empire... if only the caravan had reached its destination..."
"The legend of the lost caravan...", Chance said, more to himself than to the others.
"You've heard about it?" Jessica was genuinely surprised.
"You've forgotten again that I'm not just hired muscle?", Chance asked her with an expression of mock hurt. "Do I have to teach you all over again?"
Winston harrumphed. Loudly.
"According to the legend Ba'al sent a sandstorm to take revenge for the robbing of his temple. The storm killed Zenobia's henchmen and carried the camels with the gold back where it belonged." Chance was smiling triumphantly.
Jessica nodded, smiling, too. "The professor in charge of the current excavation believed there was more than a grain of truth to that legend. He had the theory that the Ba'al priests and a group of loyal believers ambushed the caravan, killed Zenobia's men and brought the stolen treasure back..."
"I'm sorry, but I still don't see..." All that nonverbal communication between Chance and the doc was mightily getting on Ames' nerves.
"The priests hadn't reckoned with Zenobia's skills as a poisoner", Jessica ended her account. "Which brings me to the current problem..."
"The gold was poisoned", Guerrero said. When everyone turned to stare at him, he shrugged his shoulders. "Contact poison. It's what I would do."
"The archaeologists discovered a small part of the treasure and then, after a couple of hours, fell sick. They didn't tell me about their finding at first, only yesterday evening one of them spilt the beans... " The expression on Jessica's face spoke volumes about the horrors she must have witnessed. "If they had told me earlier... With the right ingredients I can make an antidote for those who are still alive… I contacted a supplier and placed an order, but with all the soldiers around he's not willing to come to Palmyra, he's insisting on meeting in the desert… and that's only part of the problem. The rest of the gold is still hidden away somewhere in the ruins of the temple."
"And that is a problem exactly why?" Ames was definitely exasperated by the doctor's secretive way of speaking.
"Maybe because the Syrian military got wind of the findings? If they get their hands on the gold and spread it because they don't believe or don't know about the poison... with the symptoms only setting in after a couple of hours, it's a possibility." Again everyone looked at Guerrero. He, in turn, pointed at the now dark horizon, where small lights announced the rapid approach of several vehicles.
Judging from the position of the headlights, it were military vehicles...