“I’m fine. I was always fine.” I kiss Ella’s head. “Be good for Miss Lois. Mama will be back soon.” I turn to Lois. “I’ll have the kitchen send you two dinner.”
Lois holds up a menu. “Calvin already took care of it. The room service here is supposed to be quite nice.”
Of course Calvin already took care of it. He’s on top of his game, that’s for sure.
Downstairs, I find Calvin in the hotel restaurant, which has been transformed for our meeting. There’s a large table set up in a private section, and three people are already there, chatting among themselves.
Calvin stands slightly apart, checking his phone, his jaw tight.
“Everyone,” he says as I approach, “this is Dr. Georgia Halford, our lead archaeologist.”
The three people turn toward me with smiles.
“Georgia, this is Edmond Davies, our structural engineer.” A tall man with a warm smile steps forward to shake my hand. “He’ll be assessing site stability and handling any structural concerns.”
“Pleasure,” Edmond says in a British accent. “I’ve read your work on the Byzantine sites in Jordan. Fascinating stuff.”
“Thank you.”
“This is Dr. Layla Akkhad, our medic.” A petite woman in her forties with sharp, intelligent eyes gives me a nod. “She’s worked on remote excavations all over the world.”
“Happy to be here,” Dr. Akkhad says. “Though I’m hoping for a boring six months. No emergencies would be ideal.”
“I’ll drink to that,” I say with a laugh.
“And this is Ahmed Karim, our local guide and cultural liaison.” A man in his thirties with an easy smile and traditional dress extends his hand. “He knows the desert better than anyone and will be invaluable for logistics and local knowledge.”
“Hello,” Ahmed greets me warmly. “Welcome to Jumayah.”
“Thank you,” I respond. “I’m so grateful to have a local expert. I’ve worked in the region but never specifically in Jumayah.”
“Then you’re in for a treat. We have layers of history here that most people don’t even know about.”
We settle around the table, and waiters bring out hummus, baba ghanoush, falafel, fresh pita. The conversation flows easily.Edmond and Dr. Akkhad have worked together before, on a dig in Peru. Ahmed shares stories about growing up in Jumayah City and learning the desert from his father and grandfather.
“So when do we head out?” Edmond asks, reaching for more pita.
“Tomorrow,” Calvin says from the head of the table. “We leave at dawn.”
Everyone glances at him. It’s the first time he’s really contributed to the conversation, and his tone is clipped. Professional. But there’s an edge to it.
“Dawn?” Dr. Akkhad raises an eyebrow. “That’s early.”
“We have a lot of ground to cover, and we’re losing daylight every day we delay.”
“Fair enough,” Edmond says agreeably, but I catch the look he exchanges with Dr. Akkhad.
“The camp is already set up,” Calvin continues. “Ahmed supervised the installation last week. We’ll have tents, a cooking setup, sanitation facilities, and a generator for electricity. It’s remote but equipped. The rest of the team—the technicians and staff to keep the camp running—are already there. They set everything up today.”
“How remote are we talking?” I ask.
“Four hours from the city by car. No cell service. Satellite phone only.” Calvin pulls up a map on his tablet, passing it around the table. “Here’s the site.”
“Just us and the sand,” Ahmed says with a grin.
“And potentially the most significant archaeological find in the region in decades,” Calvin adds—and there it is again, that intensity, that barely controlled urgency.
The table goes quiet.
