Read Seven Wonders Journals for Free Online Page A

a tough-looking man with a big revolver holstered at his side. “Move along, move along! Museum’s got a truck coming soon!” he shouted.
    â€œI know!” Osman responded.
    I froze.
    â€œYou know?” The watchman cocked his head, his eyes bearing into Osman.
    â€œAy . . . no!” Osman stammered. “Ay, no, we won’tleave! No, it’s a free country!”
    I tried to play along, pulling his hand. “Behavior issues,” I said. “Come, Bartu, behave yourself.”
    â€œBartu?” Osman said.
    As I yanked him back into the street, the watchman ran toward us, no longer suspicious but fearful, shouting. A loud horn sounded, practically in my ear. We spun around to see a cargo truck bearing down fast.
    Before I could react, I felt Osman pushing me, hard. We both tumbled to the other side of the road as the truck skidded to a stop, hopping the opposite curb.
    The driver was yelling, the watchman now blocked from sight. Osman and I ran back around the museum and collapsed against the outer wall, our hearts pounding.
    â€œB . . . B . . . Bartu to the rescue,” Osman said.
    We waited. We could hear the men cursing us, and we prepared to run. But they never did come after us, so after a few moments we peered around the corner. Several men were unloading crates from the truck now, under the watchful eyes of armed guards.
    â€œOne . . . two . . . three . . . four,” Osman said. “Four of them, with guns!”
    â€œGencer didn’t say anything about gunmen!” I said. Clearly, Gencer was right that there was some serious money in this operation. It was just that much more of it had gone toward security than we thought.
    Osman groaned. “Gencer’s IQ is lower than his age . . .”
    â€œNo . . . ,” I said. Gencer was slimy, but I knew he wasn’t dumb. I went back over Gencer’s actions over the past week in my head. Giving Father up to Feyyaz’s man, rallying Father’s team against him. “Is there something he knows that we don’t?”
    â€œLike what?” Osman asked.
    I couldn’t answer him. But this smelled to me like a setup. I just couldn’t figure out why.
    No time to wonder now. We had to tell the team. Osman and I ran back to Father and Gencer at the entrance to the museum.
    As we told them the news about the truck and the armed guards, Father’s face went red. “It’s over, Gencer,” he said softly. “I’m not going in there to get my head blown off. You didn’t tell me they would have guns. In fact, you made it seem as if they wouldn’t be armed at all.”
    â€œSo what if they have guns?” After a quick glance around, Gencer opened his coat to reveal two pistols strapped to his ribs. “So do we.”
    Father’s face went pale. “I’m calling it off. Now.”
    â€œOh?” Gencer’s smile disappeared. “Did someone die and make you dictator? Let’s find the others.”
    As we stepped around the building, a jackhammer started up. We all jumped.
    On the west side of the museum, huge industrial lightsflooded the castle wall with a white glow. A construction team was beginning work on a project. Seeing us, one of the men approached. He wore a hard hat, but his hair was graying and he had little round glasses. About Father’s age, I’d say. “This area’s off-limits!” He did a little double take at Gencer. “Say, haven’t we met?”
    â€œNo. Never.” Gencer began pulling Father’s arm, but he stayed put.
    â€œAh, thank you, sir,” Father said, eyeing a carved stone on the ground. “Good work, I see. Archaeological dig?”
    â€œCome on . . . ,” Gencer said under his breath
    â€œNo, sir—just repairs,” the man said, warming up to Father. There’s something weirdly charming about Father when he makes an effort. “This old castle got hit hard by those tremors