by Kevin Ashman
‘He may have a routine,’ whispered Brandon, ‘we’ll wait a while longer to see if he returns. If he does, as soon as he turns away I’m going to run across as quickly as possible. Once I’m in that doorway, I should be out of his sight line and will wait until he does another circuit before moving to the bushes. What I want you to do is give me a signal when it is safe for me to move. Understand?’
India nodded, afraid to trust her own voice.
‘Good. When I’m there, just wait until he appears and as soon as he turns away again, give me the thumbs up. India, if anything goes wrong, get back to the car as quickly as you can. Don’t stop until you get to Cairo and hand yourself in to the embassy. My phone is in the car. Mike’s number is on there, call him and tell him what has happened, he’ll know what to do.’
India nodded but stayed back in the shadows. For an age they waited until the guard appeared again and stared down from the roof.
‘Here I go,’ whispered Brandon as the guard turned away, and crouched low to run across the dusty road. In the distance a dog barked and India held her breath but soon it quietened down and silence reigned once more. India could just about see Brandon in the shadows of the opposite doorway and watched the roof carefully to see when the guard returned. For five minutes they waited, India with her eyes fixed strongly on the roof and Brandon staring at India waiting for the signal. Finally the man reappeared, smoking another cigarette though this time he was not alone. Brandon pushed himself deeper into the doorway as the sound of quiet voices came from above but finally the men disappeared back the way they came and India gave a thumbs up.
Slowly Brandon lowered himself to his knees and after a few deep breaths, started crawling through the dust, his silhouette hidden behind the remains of a tiny garden wall. India watched him go, frustrated at his slow but steady progress but finally he reached the path leading up the hill and he disappeared amongst the bushes.
India allowed herself a sigh of relief and sat back against the wall in the shadows. For over half an hour she waited, alone in the darkness except for the attentions of an over friendly cat. She was beginning to get worried when a door opened in the house opposite and a man emerged, framed in the soft glow of the light within. India pushed herself deeper into the shadows and listened as he held a conversation with someone inside before closing the door and heading up toward the dig. In his hand, he carried the clearly identifiable shape of an automatic rifle.
----
Brandon reached beneath what seemed to be the hundredth bush of the night but the phone was nowhere to be seen. Finally he realised if he was to be successful, he needed more information from India but as he stood to return the way he had come, he walked into the path of the man with the Kalashnikov. For a split second nobody moved but as the guard started to lift his rifle, Brandon’s instincts kicked in and he ran forward, knocking the rifle from the Egyptian’s grip and forcing his own hand over his opponent’s mouth. The two men rolled in the dust, each as strong as each other but just as his attacker seemed to get the upper hand, Brandon smashed his forearm into the guard’s nose, knocking him sprawling to the ground. Brandon punched him twice more before stepping back and staring down at his unconscious opponent. Suddenly a torch beam appeared from above forcing Brandon to duck back into the shadows.
Voices carried down the slope and it was obvious someone had heard the commotion.
‘Shit,’ cursed Brandon and turned to run back the way he had come. Before he could move another figure appeared out of the shadows and Brandon was about to lash out when he recognised the voice.
‘Brandon, it’s me,’ hissed India, ‘are you all right?’
‘India, what are you doing here, I told you to stay safe.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said India, ‘they know we are here now, or at least they will in the next few minutes.’
They both looked up at the torch beam above. Two more had joined the first and it was clear there were at least three men walking down the path toward them.
‘We have to get out of here,’ said Brandon, ‘come on.’
‘What about my phone?’
‘We don’t have time,’ said Brandon, ‘I searched everywhere and it’s not here. Come on, we have to go before it’s too late.’
‘Wait,’ said India and ran over to the unconscious man. For a few seconds she hesitated before patting him down as she searched for something.
‘India, what are you doing?’ gasped Brandon, glancing up toward the advancing guards.
India didn’t answer him directly but he heard he say ‘yes’ to herself as she apparently found what she was looking for.
‘What is it?’ he asked kneeling beside her, ‘surely he hasn’t got your phone?’
‘No,’ she replied, ‘but he has the next best thing, his own.’
‘How does that help?’ hissed Brandon as he watched India punch numbers into the key pad.
India stared at Brandon as she waited for the number to connect.
‘Oh come on, Brandon,’ said India, staring at the confusion on his face, ‘it’s not rocket science.’
Suddenly a phone rang amongst the bushes less than ten paces away, and Brandon looked at India’s smiling face.
‘And there it is’ she said.
‘Alright, clever clogs,’ he said and ran over to collect the phone. He switched it off and turned to face India but was dismayed to see the injured guard had not only regained consciousness but was kneeling in the dust with his gun in his arms.
There was no way Brandon could get across to him before he pulled the trigger but as the man raised the weapon to his shoulders, India launched a ferocious kick at his face and the guard fell screaming backwards into the dirt, his jaw shattered from the blow.
‘India, come on,’ shouted Brandon, as the man continued screaming. India hesitated as she saw the damage she had inflicted but after another shout from Brandon, ran down the path and into the shadows.
Up above them, the men were shouting as they ran to help their screaming comrade but Brandon realised that luckily, they had still not been seen.
‘Come on,’ he hissed, ‘this way.’
India followed him as he ran through the bushes, all thoughts of subterfuge forgotten in their rush to escape. Behind them more voices added to the commotion as guards ran from the other houses to see what had caused the alarm.
‘Whatever happens, keep running,’ said Brandon, ‘don’t stop for anything. The car is about half a mile away down this path.’
As if on cue the night sky erupted as the first volley of automatic arms fire ripped through the air above them.
‘Keep running,’ shouted Brandon, ‘they don’t know where we are and the chance of being hit by a random round is minimal.’
India did as she was told, too terrified to answer as bullet after bullet smashed through the foliage around her. Finally they reached the car and within minutes, were speeding down the road leaving the sound of gunfire far behind them. Both sat in silence as they drove away, exhausted by the experience and the trauma of almost being shot.
‘India,’ said Brandon but before he could continue, a phone started ringing.
‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ asked India after several rings.
‘It’s not my phone,’ said Brandon, ‘it’s on silent.’
‘It’s not mine either,’ said India, ‘wrong ringtone.’ She reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved an old Nokia.
‘It’s his,’ she said in surprise, ‘the man who attacked you back there, I’ve still got his phone.’
Brandon glanced at her several times as the phone kept ringing.
‘What shall I do?’ asked India.
‘Answer it,’ said Brandon, ‘but don’t say anything.’
India pressed the green button and held the phone to her ear. For a few seconds there was silence and then a familiar voice spoke slowly and steadily.
‘Miss Sommers,’ it said, ‘I wondered if you had this phone, obv
iously you have.’
India turned to face Brandon with horror in her eyes.
‘It’s Muburak,’ she mouthed.
‘Listen to me, Miss Sommers,’ said Muburak, ‘I warned you just a few hours ago not to cross me again. It seems you have ignored my advice and quite apart from the charges of trespass, breaking and entering and stealing artefacts it seems we can now add attempted murder to the list.’
‘I did not try to murder anyone,’ said India, forgetting Brandon’s advice to say nothing.
‘Ah, so you are there,’ said Muburak, ‘good. Listen well, Miss Sommers, the man you assaulted will testify you tried to kill him and stole a gun legally in his possession. That alone carries a ten year sentence and when the authorities find you, as they will, then you and your accomplice will be going to jail for a very long time. Unless of course I find you first because if that is the case, you will regret the day you ever set foot on Egyptian soil. Drive hard, Miss Sommers, run as fast as you can because if I catch you, your days are numbered.’
The phone went dead and India stared at Brandon.
‘What did he have to say?’ asked Brandon.
‘Not much,’ said India, ‘but if I understood him correctly, he just threatened to kill me.’
They fell silent again until Brandon spoke once more.
‘Well, it seems we are in this right up to our necks,’ said Brandon, ‘I hope whatever you have on that phone is worth it, India’
‘Oh it is, Brandon,’ she answered slowly, keeping her eyes on the darkened road ahead, ‘trust me, it is.’
----
Chapter Six
Egypt
2600 BC
Mensah and Manu sat at the base of the pyramid eating a hearty meal of maize bread and a stew of beef washed down with a jug of beer. All around them the favoured workers from within the pyramid, each ate their own generous rations and enjoyed some time in the fresh air.
The two soldiers had been allocated the position of guards within the tomb and were stationed at the junction of the two main passages, one leading up to the statue chamber, while the other led down into the bowels of the earth. Neither soldier had been allowed into the lower passage and when they questioned what lay down there, had been threatened with strangulation by Haji.
‘What lies within a king’s tomb is the business of kings not soldiers,’ he had said.
Mensah had accepted the decision and got on with the job. Though the passages were claustrophobic, they were surprisingly cool and were a welcome relief from the harsh desert sun. At the beginning of each shift they were issued with a papyrus and their role was to only allow those named upon it past the junction. At first they checked the document diligently but it soon became apparent that those tasked with the work in the lower section were the same people every day. Soon Manu and Mensah recognised those privileged to toil alongside Haji and passed them through with little more than a nod of the head.
Mensah dipped his bread in the stew and looked out over the city.
‘Manu, have you noticed the workers in the lower section all live in the same area?’
‘I have,’ said Manu, ‘and I sought explanation for they seek only their own company and shun the approach of others. Apparently they are called the Kushnis, a tribe from the interior who have pledged their lives to Khufu. They eat, sleep and live only in each other’s company.’
‘A sad way to live a life,’ observed Mensah.
‘Not necessarily, they are treated well and receive the best rations. Besides, a man can soon find out who are allies and who are rogues in such a society.’
‘True, but it is not for me. I like the thrill of meeting new people, especially women.’
Manu laughed.
‘Then thank the gods we are allowed one day off a week. I notice the Kushnis village is cordoned off by the king’s guards day after day. They are neither allowed to leave their camp, nor are outsiders allowed in.’
‘It must be because of what they see on a daily basis in the depths of the tomb,’ said Mensah.
‘What do you think is in there?’ asked Manu.
Mensah looked around to make sure he was not overheard. Speculation was punishable with the lash.
‘I think there are treasures untold,’ he said, ‘room after room of jewels and gold. Precious stones as far as the eye can see and rare spices from across the known world.’
‘I have seen no such things be taken in,’ said Manu.
‘Perhaps not,’ said Mensah, ‘but we work one shift in three. Perhaps the treasures are taken in while we sleep.’
‘I agree,’ said Manu. ‘It is no secret that Khufu gets sicker by the day and the tomb is being made ready. I worry that this easy job will soon come to an end.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, when he travels to the fields of Osiris, the pyramid will be sealed and there will be no role for us guards. I expect we will be returned to the army and suffer the brutality of the captain once more.’
‘Not an option I relish,’ said Mensah. ‘Still, at the moment the king still draws breath so be thankful for what we have.’ He lifted the bowl and drank the remainder of the liquid, relishing the flavours created by the cooks of the priests’ kitchens. Down below, someone sounded a horn and hundreds of people got to their feet for the rest period was over. It was time to get back to work.
----
Across the river, Sagira and Adio also enjoyed a rest period. Each ate a plate of fresh dates, giggling together as they threw the stones at the children playing in the dust below the temple walls.
The building was impressive and though they hadn’t been into the places where the priests paid tribute, the living quarters were as close to luxury as the children could imagine. The sleeping rooms were clean and they slept under linen sheets at night, sheets that were taken away each morning to be washed by an army of slaves. Food was plentiful and fresh and the children had tasted things they had never even seen before.
Adio’s leg was much better and though he limped quite badly, at least he could get around the temple with the aid of a stick. By day they were taught by the priests about how to behave in the presence of royalty and when they found out they were to accompany him up to the pyramid, they thought they were surely the luckiest children in the world.
----
King Khufu sat in his audience chamber accompanied by the ever present fan bearers. In the hall before him, many priests lay prostrate on the ground, each awaiting their turn to be summoned by Omari. One by one they were allowed to approach and present their petitions to their ruler. Sometimes they would ask for grants to extend the temples or perhaps request days to be set aside for worship of their particular god. On occasion, ordinary members of the population were granted audience to seek redress of a wrong or claim compensation for something suffered at the hands of the king’s estate but this was unusual as such matters were normally dealt with by the lesser courts, chaired by priests or administrators of the palace household.
Khufu was tired and looked around the room in boredom. His failing health meant he would be better served resting but he knew it was important for his Ka, the goodness of his spirit, was as strong as possible before his soul travelled to the double halls of Ma’at for judgement. To that end he was being particularly generous with the petitioners and many left with a better outcome than they could ever have hoped for.
At the far end of the chamber he saw the doors swing open and Haji enter flanked by two guards. Behind him was a delegation in foreign garb and Khufu sat up straight, intrigued by whom they were. When they were halfway down the hall, Khufu turned and whispered to Omari who promptly dismissed everyone except for the newcomers. As soon as the chamber was quiet, the priest summoned Haji forward to attend the king.
‘Haji,’ said Khufu, ‘are these the people for whom we have been waiting so long?’
‘They are, Majesty,’ said Haji.
‘Then make sacrifice to the gods this very day for my prayer
s are truly answered.’
Omari looked at the roughly dressed foreigners who in turn stared about them in wonder.
‘Majesty,’ asked the priest, ‘can I ask, who are these people who soil your halls with their dirty garb?’
‘Omari,’ said Khufu, ‘their purpose is for my knowledge only but rest assured, the marble floors will be free of their stain for they will soon return whence they came.’
The priest bowed in acknowledgement, knowing full well that to pursue further explanation was to invite the king’s ire.
‘Omari,’ continued the king, ‘take our visitors through to my private chambers and make them comfortable. Prepare welcome platters and ensure they reflect our claim to be generous hosts.’
‘Your will be done, Majesty,’ said Omari and left the room, followed by the four guests.
When they were alone, Khufu turned to Haji.
‘So the last piece is in place,’ he said, ‘and soon all our plans will come to fruition.’
‘The detail has been agreed, Majesty,’ said Haji, ‘and though I will surely rip my beating heart from my chest on the day of your passing, you can rest easy knowing your final decree will be carried out in full.’
‘Leave your heart where it is,’ said Khufu, ‘for my eternal rest lies in your hands.’
‘And I will enable it with every fibre of my being while there is a single breath left in my body.’
‘Then I am satisfied,’ said Khufu, ‘now come join us in my chambers for I would hear the details of the final preparations.’
----
Chapter Seven
Ramesses Hotel
Cairo – 2014
India and Brandon sat in the hotel room in front of Brandon’s laptop. India had connected her phone via a cable and they waited patiently as the computer uploaded the photos onto the hard drive.
‘So,’ said Brandon, pouring the coffee, ‘while we are waiting, why don’t you tell me what this is all about, though this time, don’t leave anything out.’
