The Secret of the King's Tomb

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The Secret of the King's Tomb Page 9

by Garrett Drake


  “We will only incur his wrath if we fail. Regardless of his veiled threat in that message, I know he’s only interested in results.”

  “I think you should at least reconsider your plans for our guide.”

  Wilhelm grunted and shook his head. “Nothing has changed in that regard. When our mission is completed, we will deal with him as planned.”

  “But, sir, I’m not sure that is a wise idea?”

  “Do not question me,” Wilhelm said, wagging his finger, “or perhaps you can join him. Now get out.”

  Wilhelm turned his back and stared out the window as Reinhard hustled out the door.

  “How dare he spy on me,” Wilhelm said aloud as he returned to pacing around the room, broken glass crunching beneath his feet.

  I will find out who it is and eliminate him.

  Chapter 16

  AS THE STEAMSHIP VANISHED around the bend, Richard kicked at the dirt and threw his head back in frustration. He jammed his hands into his pockets and walked up the hill back toward the village. Everywhere he turned, the smell of delicious Egyptian delicacies wafted in front of his face. Deciding he needed to eat something to assuage both his hunger and help him think, Richard dug into his reserves and spent the equivalent of twenty cents on a meal. The cost quickly doubled when he offered to buy Amir lunch as well, which he readily accepted.

  Richard and Amir found a spot against an alley wall and began eating.

  “What do you think of our country?” Amir asked as they devoured hawawshi.

  “From what I’ve seen so far, it’s beautiful,” Richard said. “I only hope I get to see more of it. But that will only happen if I’m able to catch up with those men who’ve taken Jabari.”

  Amir grinned. “In our country, anything is possible—as long as you have the money to pay for it.”

  “And that’s the problem, Amir. The money I had was stolen by some vandals in France, and now I’ve barely got enough to get back to Alexandria.”

  Amir chuckled.

  “What’s so funny?” Richard asked.

  “You thought you were going to get on that boat without any money, didn’t you?”

  “I was going to rescue Jabari. I’m sure they would’ve been gracious.”

  “My friend, you have not been here long enough to understand how this country works. You can thank the British for teaching us how to ensure that no one gets anything for free anymore.”

  “They do have a gift for that, don’t they?”

  Once they were finished eating, Richard stood and shook Amir’s hand.

  “I think from what you said, it’s perfectly clear that we must part ways,” Richard said. “I have nothing more to offer you—and I’m sure you’re losing tips just by being with me.”

  “It has been my pleasure serving you, though I wish I could help you more.”

  “Maybe you can,” Richard said. “I need to know if there’s any other way to get to the Valley of the Kings before Jabari does on that steamer without spending my last dime.”

  Amir nodded. “There’s a train that travels to Luxor every day, usually full of tourists. It doesn’t stop here, but it will be along in about a half hour. However, it makes a stop in the town about five miles south of here. Perhaps you could get someone to take you there and you could buy a ticket. It’s far cheaper than to travel in luxury on the Nile.”

  “How much cheaper?”

  “Maybe about five of your dollars to travel in third class.”

  “That’s still too rich for my blood at the moment,” Richard said.

  “Unless you find a kind soul who’s willing to take you there, I would say you might find it hard to reach Luxor at all, especially before Jabari arrives.”

  “I will think of something.”

  “Good luck,” Amir said with a wave before turning and straddling the motorcycle.

  “Tell Jabari’s wife that we tried,” Richard said.

  “I will.”

  Amir kicked down on the motorcycle, igniting the engine before spinning around and heading north.

  Richard ambled up the hillside toward the railroad tracks, where he found five children playing nearby. While the children couldn’t speak much English, he decided to engage with them, playing a simple game of chase. After a few minutes, Richard had an idea.

  He dug into his pockets and offered each of the children a penny if they would play on the railroad tracks until they saw the train come along. Moments later, the train’s whistle pierced the air as it chugged toward them. Richard stayed with the children, playing in and around the tracks for the next few minutes until the engine came into view as it rounded the bend.

  The engineer tugged on the whistle’s rope again, and then the hiss of brakes filled the air.

  “Run,” Richard said each time after depressing a penny into the palm of their hands. The children dashed away toward the village side of the tracks, giggling with delight as they stared at the shiny object given to them by the foreign man.

  Meanwhile, Richard eased toward a tree that was situated near the tracks and waited for the right moment to pounce. Once the train’s final car appeared, he took a deep breath and prepared to make a run for it. Richard scanned the train one final time to see if anyone was watching him. As he planned it, everyone on board was straining their necks to see what the conductor was screaming about on the other side.

  Perfect.

  Richard raced down the small hill in an attempt to grab on to the back of the final car. His stunt with the children had slowed the speed of the locomotive just enough for him to keep pace before gripping the rail and pulling himself up. After easing himself inside, he navigated down the aisles in search of a seat.

  The train was packed with travelers and their belongings. Women jammed all their children onto one bench. Some men held large boxes in their laps. One man stroked a small goat, which nipped at Richard as he passed. Twisting and turning to escape the luggage strewn across the aisles, he made his way to the front of the car and surveyed it once more. There wasn’t a seat to be had and barely space to stand. He decided to continue his search.

  After opening the door, he took a long step between the connected cars and moved forward. While not as chaotic, he was unable to locate a free seat. Richard had almost concluded his hunt when a conductor stood and pointed a finger at him.

  “Marar alkitab, min fadlik,” the man said.

  Richard wasn’t sure what the conductor meant until he held out his hand.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Passbook, please,” he said, switching to English.

  Richard patted his breast pockets and then his pants. He feigned a panicked look before ripping his pack off his back and rifling through it.

  “I’m afraid I don’t have it,” he said.

  “You don’t have it or never had one?” asked the conductor.

  “Don’t you remember checking it when I boarded?”

  The conductor shook his head. “No, but you will be dealt with appropriately. Come with me.”

  Richard followed the man to the first class cabin where there were ample seats.

  “Unfortunately, we don’t have room available except in the first class cabin,” the conductor said.

  “I guess that all depends on your point of view,” Richard said.

  The conductor glared at Richard and pointed at a padded bench. “Sit down.”

  Richard had barely taken a seat when he had a pair of handcuffs slapped on him, chaining him to the handrail rising above the bench in front of him.

  “I’ll be back to check on you,” the conductor said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Richard shrugged and looked at his hands. “That’s pretty much impossible at this point.”

  He looked over his shoulder, watching the conductor return to the other car. Richard sighed and looked at his attire, feeling self-conscious after glancing around at the rest of the passengers. Their pressed suits and sharp hats appeared in stark contrast to his dust-laden pants and white shirt smea
red with stains on his sleeves. Then there was the woman seated alone across the aisle from him, who wore a black cloche hat with a beige blouse and a dark skirt. She was reading a book but cast a few sideways glances in his direction. After Richard received a third look from her, he decided to strike up a conversation.

  “I’m Richard Halliburton,” he said. “I would shake your hand, but that’s a little difficult for me at the moment.”

  She furrowed her brow and looked away, ignoring him.

  “I know, I know,” he said. “You’re probably thinking, ‘What’s a vagabond like him doing up here in first class?’ Well, the truth is—”

  “If you’re going to prattle on, perhaps you should find someone a little more interested,” she said in a thick English accent before turning her attention back to her novel.

  “I understand your reservations about speaking with me. After all, it’s not often that some random handsome stranger sits next to you on a train while leisurely winding alongside the Nile. I’d probably be a little nervous myself.”

  The woman rolled her eyes, accompanied by the faintest of curls at the edge of her lips.

  Richard persisted. “Don’t let your prejudices in life prevent you from meeting new people. Some of the best people I’ve ever met were the ones I could’ve dismissed by their appearance if I had been so inclined.”

  A portly gentleman decked in a three-piece suit sitting in front of her turned around and glared at her.

  “For goodness sake, ma’am, would you please stroke this man’s ego so he’ll shut up?” he said with a growl as he tapped his cane on the floor.

  “This isn’t about ego. It’s about a friendly conversation with someone who is sadly wasting her time reading someone else’s story instead of enjoying her own adventure,” Richard said. “I mean, look around you. We’re in Egypt! Egypt! A land of ancient sand and timeless wonders on a train full of people who are experiencing this grand moment in life with you. This is not the time to read. It’s the time to take a deep breath and inhale the specter of this place.”

  The woman looked down at her book, closed it, and set it aside. “Well, Mr. Haliburton, I must say you made a convincing case. You’re also far more interesting than the travel book I was reading.”

  Richard chuckled. “Anyone can point to the Taj Mahal and take a picture. But have you taken a dip in her pools? Or listened to the birds awaken in her trees?”

  The woman turned toward him. “Have you been to India?”

  “Not yet, but that’s what I plan on doing when I get there,” Richard said.

  “You’re quite the bold adventurer, those handcuffs there withstanding.”

  “As you are also,” he said. “Just look at you, a single woman striking off for adventure all by herself in a foreign country halfway around the world.”

  “England is much closer than America,” she said with a wink. “I’m Elizabeth Corbett, by the way, and it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Halliburton. I apologize for being so cold toward you in the first place. After all, you were—and still are—tethered to a bench and very much looking like a vagabond.”

  “Well, this vagabond went to Princeton.”

  She laughed. “Are you now trying to impress me with your education? If you didn’t attend Oxford or Cambridge, I’m not sure I would be all that enamored with your schooling. But an American university? That is one of the funniest things I’ve heard in quite some time.”

  “Perhaps it isn’t as well respected as one of your country’s best schools, but it gave me quite the education. And for that, I’m very grateful.”

  “Apparently you still have much to learn about how to travel in an exotic place like Egypt.”

  “Miss Corbett, I won’t take offense to your comment, but I swear it would be different if I hadn’t been mugged by those nasty Frenchmen.”

  “Is there any other kind?” she asked with a giggle.

  “My, you’re feisty. We would get along famously in the Valley of the Kings.”

  “I doubt we would,” she said, cutting her eyes toward his shackles. “I don’t do very well when confined to one place for a long time. And as it stands, you’re only going wherever this train takes you.”

  Richard looked out of the window and watched his train pass the Reichswehr’s steamship cruising along the Nile. “You don’t happen to know when we’re scheduled to make the next stop, do you?”

  “According to my passbook, we should be making a stop in less than five minutes if we’ve maintained our schedule,” she said.

  Richard craned his neck to see around the bend and caught a glimpse of a depot no more than a quarter of a mile down the tracks. He felt the train start to ease up and heard the first hiss of the brakes.

  “Ah, what a gorgeous setting,” he said, returning his attention to the nearby Nile. “You have to wonder why God created such beautiful scenery for us to enjoy, though I’m more inclined to get out in it myself.”

  Elizabeth stared out the window. “I feel the same way. It could be because I . . .”

  Richard stopped listening to her when he looked down the center aisle and into the car behind them. He noticed the conductor was walking steadily back to first class. And Richard didn’t have a second to waste.

  He strained while forcing his wrists back through the handcuffs, freeing himself. Then he darted toward the front of his car and opened the door. Hustling down the steps, he took a deep breath and jumped.

  Richard hit the ground hard before rolling down a small embankment and coming to a stop. Hopping to his feet, he brushed himself off and looked back at the train. The conductor was hanging onto a railing on the outside steps of the car and shouting something in Arabic at the top of his lungs. Richard gave a little wave before sprinting toward the town of Asyut.

  He had a steamboat to catch—and this time he didn’t intend to be late.

  Chapter 17

  RICHARD HID BEHIND A SMALL HUT and peered around the corner as the steamboat docked at Asyut, a bustling city and a significant trading hub within the region. The captain of the ship strode out onto the deck and shouted directions to the dockhands. At the back of the ship, workers hustled on and off with various supplies: food, firewood, mailbags, barrels of beer. Richard noticed his chance to sneak about and seized it.

  Snatching up one of the vats and hoisting it onto his shoulders, Richard scurried aboard without drawing a second glance from anyone. With his face shielded, he moved freely through the ship until he reached the galley. When he deposited the ale onto one of the large cutting tables, he dashed down a corridor leading back to the ship’s cabins. He shuffled his way along until he reached third class.

  He carefully checked several cabin doors to see if he could find one that was unlocked. After his fifth attempt, one of the doors sprang open. Inside, he found no sign of occupancy and decided to stay there for the duration of the trip. Once he had settled in, he took a short nap before launching his expedition to find Jabari Gamal.

  Richard went into the dining hall and found a hat hanging from a nearby rack in the entryway. He donned the cap, tugging it down low across his face as he roamed the ship in search of the Reichswehr unit and their coopted guide. Richard flashed by the parlor, scanning the room as he strode past. Inside were several familiar faces, including Wilhelm, who was raking in a pile of poker chips from the center of the table as he smiled big. But there was no sign of Jabari.

  Later that evening, Richard finally spotted Jabari. While on a walk along the upper deck in the cool of the evening as the sun was setting over the trees, Richard noticed Wilhelm’s right-hand man engaged in an animated conversation with a man who appeared to be Egyptian. At one point, he attempted to walk away, but the Reichswehr soldier grabbed the man by the arm and pulled him back. Jabari sighed and nodded, remaining pat as he listened. Standing in the shadows, Richard watched the scene play out until the soldier escorted Jabari off the deck.

  Richard followed the duo down the stairs to the third class ca
bins before Jabari entered one of the rooms. The Reichswehr soldier delivered a stern warning, shaking his finger vehemently at Jabari before disappearing down the corridor.

  Unsure if another opportunity would arise before the steamboat made port in Luxor, Richard boldly approached the door and knocked. After a few seconds, Jabari answered. While he didn’t appear to be beaten physically, his posture and demeanor told a different story.

  “Who are you? And what do you want?” Jabari asked, his cheeks sagging, his stare cold and penetrating.

  “Let me in,” Richard said. “I need to talk with you.”

  “Not before you tell me who you are and what you want.”

  Richard wedged his foot between the door and the frame. “I just saw Sagira this morning. She’s worried sick.”

  Jabari opened the door and then looked down the hallway in both directions before securing the locks and joining Richard inside.

  “They’re going to kill you if they find you in here,” Jabari said. “You don’t know how ruthless these men are.”

  “On the contrary,” Richard said. “I know exactly how brutal they can be—and I’m here to stop them. My name is Richard Halliburton, and I was hoping you might be able to answer some questions for me, Jabari.”

  “Before I tell you anything, I want to know how Sagira is.”

  Richard nodded. “She’s holding it together, as much as any good mother could do under such circumstances.”

  “And my children?”

  “They are coping, though they miss you dearly.”

  Jabari buried his head in his hands and took a deep breath. “I tried to fight them, but there was no use. They essentially stormed my house and forced me to go with them or else there would’ve been a bloody confrontation.”

  “These men are bullies of the highest nature,” Richard said. “And we must do everything we can to stop them. Can I count on your help?”

  “You told me your name, but I don’t know anything else about you,” Jabari said. “Forgive me if this seems rude, but I’ve been working in this business long enough to know that you can’t trust anyone.”

 

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