The Pyramid of Doom_A Novel
Page 14
Too late, he realized Diamondback was carrying a second revolver. He tugged it out of his jacket, slowed, turned—
Eddie tackled him. Both men hit the floor beside the chugging generator. Diamondback raised his gun, but Eddie swiped it from his hand. The lank-haired gunman tried to scramble after it, only for Eddie to slam a sledgehammer punch into his kidney, dropping him flat.
But Diamondback wasn’t out of the fight, wrenching himself around and smashing an elbow into Eddie’s chest. Eddie gasped at a stab of resurgent pain where his rib had been broken seven months earlier.
Diamondback saw the weakness and lashed at the spot again. Eddie thumped back against a support beam.
The American pulled free, trying to get up, but Eddie kicked him hard on the backside. Diamondback stumbled before falling again …
At Shaban’s feet.
Eddie looked up. Shaban had retrieved the revolver.
And was pointing it at him—
He rolled behind the generator as Shaban fired. The first shot smacked off the floor and ricocheted down the tunnel—but the next hit the generator. The machine jolted, mechanism grinding. The lights flickered. Another shot—and the fuel tank burst open, gasoline gushing out.
“Get back,” Shaban told his henchman, a cruel smile forming. Diamondback stood with a sadistic half laugh. Both men retreated.
“Oh shit,” Eddie whispered. He had a choice of death by bullet—or death by incineration.
Shaban fired. Hot lead ignited the fuel vapor, flashing it into fire.
Eddie leapt up and ran—
The generator exploded. The lights instantly went out, but Eddie could see all too well as a bright orange fireball erupted behind him, singeing his skin and hair as he dived. A greasy wave of flame roiled over him, clinging to the ceiling.
The echo of the blast faded—but that wasn’t the noise he was concerned with. Instead it was the sinister crackle of flames consuming wood, the deeper crunch of stone as the damaged ceiling gave way …
Eddie sprang up and raced into the darkness—as the roof caved in with a huge boom behind him. He tumbled across the entrance chamber in a swelling, choking cloud of sand.
“Eddie!” Nina shouted between coughs. “Are you all right? Eddie!”
“I’m—I’m okay,” he spluttered, pulling his T-shirt up over his mouth and nose. The noise of the collapse had stopped, only the hiss of falling sand audible from the tunnel.
“What the hell happened?”
“The generator blew up, took out the props. Ceiling fell down.”
“You mean we’re trapped?” A ball of ghost-light resolved itself into Macy holding Broma’s dropped flashlight. “Oh my God! We’ll run out of air!”
“This place is pretty big, so we’ll be okay as long as nobody starts running laps,” Eddie assured her. “Or starts panicking.”
“I–I’m not panicking! I mean, we’re only trapped under the Sphinx, what’s to panic about?”
Nina helped Eddie up. “You okay?”
“I’ll live—although I owe that mulleted twat a good kicking. Macy, give me the torch.” He aimed it down the tunnel. Though the swirling dust was still thick, it was plain that the passage was completely blocked. “Huh. We’ll have a job digging through that.”
“We don’t need to. Remember?” Nina turned his hand to illuminate the chamber’s eastern end. The beam fell on the carved pillars of the second entrance. “We just have to wait for prime time …”
Berkeley composed himself before taking hold of the final broken stone and, with deliberate theatricality, moving it aside. “This … is it,” he said to the camera behind him. Though the tunnel’s confines meant there was only room for half a dozen people to witness the opening of the Hall of Records firsthand, the cyclopean glass eye was an avatar for millions all around the globe. His words in the next few minutes could be as well remembered as those of Neil Armstrong when he made the first footfall on the moon.
As he passed the stone back to another team member, he briefly glanced at his watch—four forty-six AM, nine forty-six PM in New York, exactly on schedule—before picking up a crowbar and facing the camera again. “The last piece of rubble has been cleared from the entrance,” he said, with as great a tone of expectant gravity as he could manage. “The only thing now standing between us and our first sight of the legendary Hall of Records beneath the Sphinx is this stone slab. Once it’s opened, we will be the first people to enter for more than five thousand years. Nobody knows exactly what treasures are within … but there’s one thing we can be sure about. Whatever we see beyond this door will be remembered for a very long time.”
Behind the cameraman, he saw Metz making a Hurry up gesture. Concealing his annoyance at being rushed, Berkeley inserted his crowbar into the gap at one side of the block, then turned back to the camera. “Here we go.”
He pulled at the crowbar. For a moment the only sound was the scrape of metal on stone; then with a low grumble the slab moved. Berkeley could hardly contain his excitement as the stone inched outward from the wall. It was finally happening! The Hall of Records, revealed at last … and he was the one the world was watching. Not any of the other archaeologists who had been so desperate to win the IHA assignment, and certainly not Nina Wilde …
The slab turned slightly, revealing a line of blackness. A puff of dust billowed out. Berkeley’s heart raced. He pulled harder. The slab came free. He pushed it aside, then looked through the opening. The cameraman moved forward, the camera’s light shining on what lay within …
It found the grubby, dust-covered face of Nina Wilde.
“Hey, Logan,” she said, as Berkeley’s heart plunged down through his chest cavity and fell deep into the ground below. “Welcome to the Hall of Records. What kept you?”
NINE
These people are nothing more than vandals and thieves. They should be thrown in prison for twenty years!”
There was anger in Hamdi’s voice, but also an undertone of fear. Which was hardly surprising, Nina thought; if the Egyptian authorities saw proof of his involvement in the zodiac’s theft, he would be the one facing twenty years in prison.
Unfortunately, she didn’t have such proof—certainly not enough to stand up in court. After she, Eddie, and Macy emerged from the Sphinx—and were arrested, the default action when those in charge had no idea what was going on but had to be seen to be doing something—they were eventually taken to the Ministry of Culture to explain themselves, with Hamdi and Berkeley acting as an impromptu and rather strident prosecution.
What they did have, though, was enough evidence to prove that someone had indeed beaten the IHA to the Hall of Records. The recording from Macy’s camera had been copied to a computer, and was now displayed on a large TV in the minister’s office. The image was frozen, the last section of the zodiac revealed on the ceiling, with Shaban and Hamdi standing before it. Unfortunately, the glare from the lights in the zodiac chamber rendered them barely more than silhouettes.
“We weren’t the ones who robbed the place,” said Nina. “Eddie and I only arrived in the country yesterday morning. But the work needed to dig out the tunnel must have been going on for weeks. Since it was happening right there in the Sphinx compound, it had to have been done with the collusion of someone at Giza.” She eyed Hamdi. “Wouldn’t you say?”
The minister, an elderly, long-faced man called Malakani Siddig, examined a photograph. “The dead man, this Gamal, was in charge of site security. I think it’s a safe assumption that he was working with the robbers.”
“It was a mistake to use private security contractors,” mused Dr. Ismail Assad, the secretary general of the Supreme Council of Antiquities. “We should have brought in the army—maybe even the Antiquities Special Protection Squad.”
Eddie worked out the acronym. “ASPS? Cool name.”
“It’s more likely that Gamal was following Dr. Wilde and her gang and was murdered when he tried to arrest them,” said Hamdi. Even Berkeley regard
ed his suggestion with disbelief.
Assad leafed through more photos of the equipment the thieves had been forced to abandon. “This was a much larger operation than just one man, one woman, and a girl could have carried out.”
“I’m not a ‘girl,’ ” Macy protested.
Nina batted her arm with a “Shush!” then continued: “There were at least ten people involved—the six men on the video, plus the guards at the construction site and the ones at the compound gate. Probably more. If you’re going to investigate everyone at Giza who might have been involved, I’d suggest starting at the top.” She stared at Hamdi.
“This is outrageous!” Hamdi blustered. “They are trying to implicate me to deflect attention from themselves.”
“You sound a bit bunged-up, mate,” said Eddie.
“Looks like someone hit your nose,” Nina noted. “Wonder where that happened?” She examined her knuckles. “Funny, I’ve got kind of a nose-shaped bruise here …”
“Minister,” growled Berkeley, “at the very least Dr. Wilde and her husband should be charged with trespass and damage to an archaeological site.” He glared at Nina. “You couldn’t let me have my moment, could you? No, you had to ruin everything so you could be the center of attention and take all the credit.”
“Oh, grow up, Logan,” Nina snapped.
Assad leaned back in his chair. “Dr. Berkeley, there are more important crimes to be investigated first.” He pointed at the image of the zodiac. “A priceless national treasure has been stolen—from under your nose! People will want to know how you could have possibly not known about a second tunnel being dug right in front of you.”
“They might even wonder if you did know,” said Siddig with veiled menace.
Berkeley looked shocked. “But—of course I didn’t! Why would I wreck my own career and risk going to prison?”
“People risk all kinds of things for the right amount of money,” said Nina. She was certain that he hadn’t been involved, but still took a little pleasure in watching him squirm.
Siddig seemed uncomfortable at the mention of money. “Dr. Wilde, you believe the Osirian Temple is involved?”
“That’s right.” She crossed to the television. “This man on the left is Sebak Shaban.”
“It could be anyone,” snapped Hamdi.
“So could his buddy on the right, huh, Dr. Hamdi?”
“Dr. Hamdi has a point, though,” said Assad. “The video never shows their faces. And there’s too much noise from the saw to identify their voices.”
“It’s Shaban,” Nina insisted. “The Osirian Temple is behind this.”
“It’s certainly not a religion I believe in, or even approve of,” said Siddig, “but the Osirian Temple is a major charitable contributor in Egypt. Khalid Osir doesn’t just help fund archaeological projects—he also donates money to health and agricultural causes. He’s a popular man.” A small frown. “Even if he chooses to live in a Swiss tax haven rather than his own country.”
Hamdi made a theatrical shrug of disgust. “Now she is accusing Khalid Osir of being a thief. Who next, the president?”
Assad had his own questions. “Why would they only take the zodiac? The hall’s other contents would be worth hundreds of millions of dollars on the black market.”
“They don’t just want the zodiac for its monetary value,” said Nina. She switched programs on the laptop connected to the television, bringing up the picture Macy had taken of the fourth papyrus. “This scroll, the one the Osirian Temple kept from the IHA, says the zodiac is the key to finding the Pyramid of Osiris. That’s their real objective—the pyramid’s treasures.”
Hamdi laughed sarcastically. “The Pyramid of Osiris? Minister, Ismail, why are you even listening to this woman? It’s a myth, a fantasy, no more real than the Garden of Eden.” He shot Nina a malevolent smirk. “Anyone who believes it true is obviously deranged.”
“Well, I did think the guy you’re taking bribes from seemed a bit nuts,” Nina fired back.
Hamdi rose to his full height. “False, baseless, slanderous accusations! In front of unimpeachable witnesses, no less. Dr. Wilde, I will see you in court.”
“Oh, sit down, Iabi,” grumbled Assad. Hamdi looked offended, but obeyed his boss. “Dr. Wilde, I would recommend that you don’t make any more accusations without proof. We will investigate this outrage, and those responsible will be punished, you can be sure of that. But we will not jump to any conclusions without evidence.”
“But while you’re getting it, they’ll have nicked everything in the Pyramid of Osiris that’s not nailed down, then come back for the nails,” Eddie said.
Siddig put both hands firmly on his desk. “Everyone involved in this robbery will be found and brought to justice.” His stern gaze passed over everybody before him, finishing on Nina—though, she was pleased to notice, pausing for a moment on Hamdi. “Everyone. Now go. Dr. Assad, we have a lot of work to do.”
Hamdi waved an angry hand at Nina, Eddie, and Macy. “You aren’t going to keep them in custody?”
“If I had everybody arrested who might possibly have been involved in this,” the minister snapped, “I would be arresting a lot of people. Including you! As Dr. Wilde pointed out, she has only been in Egypt since yesterday, but digging this tunnel would have taken weeks. Now get out, all of you.”
He waved a dismissive hand toward the door. Everyone filed for the exit—except Macy, who instead approached the desk, hands held demurely in front of her. “Excuse me? Minister?”
Siddig glared up at her, but his face quickly softened at the sight of her wide-eyed and hopeful expression. “What can I do for you, young lady?”
She looked across at the laptop, next to various items from the Hall of Records—and her camera. “I was wondering if it would be possible for me to have my camera back?”
“I’m afraid it’s evidence,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” Her lips quivered into a small, sad pout. “It’s just that it’s got all the pictures and videos that I took for my grandparents. They were from Egypt originally, and they wanted to see what the country was like today …”
“I’m sorry,” Siddig repeated, “but I can’t return it until the investigation has finished.” He thought for a moment. “But I suppose we could make a copy of the memory card. For your grandparents.”
Macy gave him a delighted smile. “Oh, that would be awesome! Thank you, Mr. Siddig, thank you so much!”
“I’ll have somebody get the copy to you, Miss Sharif. Now, if you’ll excuse us?”
“Thank you,” Macy said again, beaming as she backed away. “You’re a really cool guy.” Siddig’s reaction suggested it was not a compliment he generally heard, but he took it with good grace.
“What was that about?” Nina hissed as Macy caught up with her and Eddie outside.
Macy smiled smugly. “We’ve still got the zo-di-aaaac,” she sang. “Well, on video, anyway.”
“So we have,” Nina realized. A straight copy of the camera’s memory would duplicate all its contents—including the video of the zodiac’s last piece. “But how did you know he’d go for it?”
“Didn’t you see the photos of the kids on his desk? He’s way too old for them to be his. So I figured he was a grandpa—and I played the grandkid doing something nice for her grandparents card. Although it didn’t totally work, because I really did want my camera back! But at least we’ve got something.”
“I don’t know how much it’ll help, though,” said Nina. “The zodiac’s probably out of the country by now. And we’ve only seen one piece of it—they’ve got the whole thing. If it really is a way to find the Pyramid of Osiris, they’re the only ones who’ll be able to use it.”
“Hey, hey,” Eddie chided. “I thought you were going to pack it in with the pessimism? Look at it this way—you found the Hall of Records, and we just walked out of there without getting thrown in jail. Plus, you visited the pyramids. This is like a holiday for you!”
“They were talking—maybe they said where they were taking it,” Macy suggested.
“Talking in Arabic,” Nina reminded her. “And anyway, we couldn’t hear them over the saw.”
Eddie looked thoughtful. “I know someone who might be able to help with that.”
“Nina!” said Karima Farran, hugging her. “It’s wonderful to see you again. Though I did see you not long ago—on the news.”
Nina returned the Jordanian woman’s embrace. “Yeah, that wasn’t exactly planned. I’ve had some bad experiences with the media lately.”
Karima was one of what Nina had jokingly come to call Eddie’s “international girlfriends,” contacts from his time as a soldier and freelance contractor who always seemed to share certain characteristics: a great loyalty to Eddie … and equally great physical beauty. This last had in the past caused her the occasional pang of jealousy, but she had trusted him enough to accept that his friends were indeed just friends—whatever he might suggest otherwise with his cheeky innuendos.
His recent dissembling about Amy in New York had made the joke considerably less amusing, but though Karima was even by “international girlfriend” standards quite stunningly attractive, Nina saw that she had no cause to suspect Eddie of any improprieties, as she had made the short flight from Amman to Cairo accompanied by a man of her own. “This is my boyf—my fiancé, Radi Bashir. Rad for short,” Karima said, ushering forward a tall, strikingly handsome Arab man with a mane of glossy black hair. Eddie and Nina shook his hand. “I finally got him to make a commitment—by using you two as an example.”
“She wore me down,” said Rad in mock complaint, an Oxbridge tinge to his accent. “ ‘Eddie and Nina’ this, ‘Eddie and Nina’ that. Although it was your trip into Syria with her that really forced me to pop the question—it was the only way I could think of to keep her out of trouble!”