Although it was not even noon yet the Roman mosaic floor already felt like an oven. It was almost time to take a long siesta as it would be too hot to continue working at this archaeological dig. Still two weeks to go at this project recovering the old Roman villa surprisingly deep inland. And then she had to return to her boring teaching job in Germany teaching history to bored teens. It was such a joy to spend her holiday helping the two elderly Italians, the professor and his wife, with their private project. It might even get her academic credentials.
Theresa stood up from the part of the floor she had been cleaning and looked towards the noise of the approaching jeep. The professor and his wife were coming back early from their shopping trip to the nearest town it seemed.
But when the car stopped she realised it was the local student Mo on his own. "Theresa," he said "pack you things quickly. I have to put you on the minibus in town. The civil unrest in the East evolved into a full rebellion. Rebels are marching towards the capital now the only major city to keep them at bay fell this morning. All foreigners are evacuated."
"Minibus?"
"Where are the professor and his wife?"
He moved her to her tent. "Theresa please go pack your backpack. The Moretti's are already on a minibus to the capital. The professor said he would try to get a plane-seat for the three of you. When you have phonesignal again do call him. Now hurry so I can put you on a minibus as well. I will come back to pack the rest of our stuff".
That had been hours ago now and Theresa found herself at a small roadside restaurant halfway to the capital when the sun was going down. All the other passengers and the driver of the minibus were watching a small tv on the wall in the corner showing looting people and proud rebel soldiers and burning buildings. She had no idea what the reporter was saying but it looked grim. She could not get a hold to anyone with her mobile phone.
"Do you speak English, Sir?" she asked the bartender.
"A little. What you want to know?"
"The bus... It had to be going back on the road again I think. We are here now for an hour and a half and all they do is watch the news. I have to get to the airport".
"You best come with us then" she heard a deep male voice say behind her back. Turning around she was faced with a muscular wide shouldered 6" tall guy with greying short hair of about 50 who spoke with an Eastern European accent.
"That bus is not leaving anymore tonight. The capital is fallen. People are too frightened to go there. You would not be able to get a plane there. We are going to try south through the desert. You best come with us." Talking he pointed her to some other military looking guys sitting at a nearby table eating dinner. "Well my offer stands. Think about it" and he walked over to the table again carrying some drinks.
She turned back to the bartender. "What he says is right," said the man. "The airport is closed. It will be dangerous on the road for a pretty blonde foreign girl like you. Best go with them. They are securitymen from the oilfield nearby."
"I have no camping stuff with me. Do you have anything?" she asked him.
He looked at the wall where an old blanket hung for decoration. "I can sell you that and a big plastic bag to put it in that you can use to cover the sand. But that is all I have here what could help you."
With her backpack and the blanket rolled in the bag she walked over to the security guys still eating their dinner.