by Tom Hunter
“I think you were right first time.” Samuel put his arm around her, this time pulling her into a full embrace. “I think it’s the scepter messing with your head. We’ve all had weird feelings ever since we got close to it. This is just more magical woo-woo. Nothing to worry about.”
“I hate to say it, but I think you’re wrong, Samuel.” Shafira shook her head. “We’re dealing with a powerful artifact here. I don’t think its effects are as random as you believe. After all, we found the scepter because of a vision it provoked in you. Just as the hat demonstrates its powers even without the missing pieces to access its full potential, I think the scepter does too. I don’t think we can discount anything it shows us.”
She turned so that her back was towards Samuel, his arms still around her as they both gazed out unseeing at the scenery, trying in vain to process all they had been through that day.
“I’ve been thinking about the mural we created,” Shafira went on. “I can’t stop thinking about the image of the monster holding a woman. I’m not egotistical enough to think that everything’s about me, but at the same time, I’m the only woman in our group.”
“It could be Fatima,” Samuel pointed out.
“It could,” Shafira conceded, “but I don’t think it is in this instance. The first picture was of the six of us, I’m sure of it. I think the mural was about us and our future, and the Knight facing the monster in the image represented one of the rest of you. Much as I hate the idea of being a helpless damsel in distress, it’s possible that the ancients knew that something would happen to me, something bad, so they included that picture as a warning.”
“You have a wonderfully vivid imagination,” laughed Samuel, unconvincingly. “It was just a picture. It could mean anything. If the ancients really wanted to warn you, they’d have put something in there to make it more obviously about you. We know they had the ability to do that. I think it was more to do with warning us to be careful in the cave. After all, the warrior Knights used to be all male. A woman going into the catacombs by herself would be in extreme danger because she wouldn’t be prepared to deal with everything she encountered down there.”
“Mmm.”
“Even if you’re right, you have to know that I’d do anything to protect you,” Samuel told her. “I’d give my life for you if it came down to it.”
An awkward silence descended as Shafira considered what Samuel had just said. She reached up and patted his hands, before breaking free from his embrace. Turning to face him, she gazed into his eyes, her expression serious and intense.
“I only need one thing from you right now,” she said. “Much as I appreciate the reassuring hugs, I need to know that if it ever came down to a choice between my safety and saving the scepter, you’ll protect the scepter at all costs.”
“What?” Samuel shook his head. “You can’t ask me to do that. I could never abandon you. If we lose the scepter, so be it. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
“Samuel!” scolded Shafira. “How can you be so selfish? The world is more important than I am, no matter how strong our- your feelings about me. I’m one person. The lives of millions are at stake. You have to think of our mission, and forget about me if it ever comes to it. Promise me, Samuel. Promise me!”
Samuel opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by the whine of an approaching VTOL. It was unmistakably heading straight towards the ship, its lights reflected in their wake. Thinking quickly, Samuel grabbed her arm, pulling her down to hide with him in the shadows against the boat’s side-barriers.
Their hearts were pounding so hard, Samuel thought they would burst out of their chests as the aircraft closed in, flying low enough that they could feel the wash of air as it whooshed overhead. Shafira made to look to check whether it was a Bruard craft as it flew by, but Samuel held her down, frowning and motioning to her to stay out of sight, just in case.
At last, the VTOL was gone, and they slowly pulled themselves up again.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” asked Samuel, reaching out to help Shafira up.
“I’m fine.” She brushed herself down, avoiding his gaze.
“I’ve been nervous about VTOLs ever since Pin snatched Fatima,” he admitted. “Maybe that was just a careless pilot, but if that was the Bruard, they’re getting a little too close for comfort.” He glanced over to the lounge where the others were resting. “I’m going to try and get some sleep again. Join us when you’re ready.”
He headed back to the lounge, as Shafira leaned against the rail, staring up at the stars. If she was worried by Samuel’s lack of response to her plea, she didn’t say anything about it. She couldn’t get over the feeling that he was wrong. The mural was about her, and if her instincts were accurate, it wouldn’t be long before the prediction came true.
The boat continued to chug down the Nile, the rest of its occupants completely oblivious to the drama unfolding on its deck.
Forty-Three
The ferry slowly approached the dock at Atbara. A crew waited on shore to grab the lines thrown by the sailors to secure the boat to the dock. This early in the morning, there were few passengers waiting to come on board. Samuel and his friends felt very exposed as they waited close to the exit, their gear in hand ready to make a quick getaway in case they spotted any Bruard agents waiting to ambush them.
Waleed yawned and stretched, scratching at his head as he looked out across the dock.
“What–no welcoming party?” he joked.
“That’s not even funny,” sniped Josh, as the crew took their time in extending the gangway.
“Well, I for one am glad that there’s no one around,” said Basile, his gaze nervously darting about, paranoid that the Bruard were simply hiding. It wouldn’t take much for it to be game over.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have now docked at Atbara. For those of you who are disembarking, we hope you enjoyed a safe and pleasant journey with us.”
At the loudspeaker announcement, the team gathered up their stuff and hurried down the ramp onto the dockside.
“Where do you get a cab ‘round here?” asked Shafira, as a few other people followed them off the boat and disappeared into Atbara.
“Over there.” Samuel indicated a cab stand off to the right. There was a single, solitary cab waiting there, and they rushed to grab it before any other travelers hailed it.
“Hello, hello,” beamed the driver, hurrying to open up the trunk for them to store their things. “Welcome to my beautiful city.”
“We’ll keep our luggage on our laps, thanks,” Samuel told him, as they squeezed into the back seats.
“I call shotgun!” Waleed scurried round to sit next to the driver, sparing himself the discomfort of being squashed up against the others in an SUV that was barely big enough to seat all of them, let alone all their bags.
“Where am I taking you?” asked the driver, once they were all safely inside.
“The airport, please,” requested Samuel.
“The airport?” The driver did a double take. “Leaving us so soon? But you only just got here! At least let me take you on a little sightseeing tour. You shouldn’t leave Atbara without experiencing our unique culture.”
“He said the airport,” repeated Josh, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Very well,” sighed the driver, switching on the meter. After he pulled out, he started talking again. “How have you found the weather? Hot enough for you?”
“Yes, thanks,” replied Shafira.
“It’s a shame you’re leaving so soon,” remarked the driver. “You won’t have any time to work on your suntans! So where have you all traveled from?”
“I’m American,” Samuel said ambiguously.
“Ah, American!” The driver nodded knowingly. “How about them Knicks, eh? Or what about the Red Sox? Aren’t they a really great American football team?”
“Baseball,” Josh corrected.
“When’s the baseball season starting? Which teams do you rec
ommend I follow? I want to see lots of touchdowns!”
“You’re mixing up two different sports,” said Josh through gritted teeth.
“I would love to go to America one day,” the driver told him. “Go up the Eiffel Tower, try some of your foot long hot dogs. I can’t imagine eating a sausage as long as my foot. I have very big feet!”
He babbled on, trying to generate some conversation, but none of the team took the bait.
“Alsuyah jahin yashkuruna. Sa'akun saeid li'iisqatik fi almatar. 'Ana la 'asheur bialsuw' 'iiza' alshahn alzaayid lak alan.” He muttered to himself in Arabic, as he leaned forward and switched on the radio, which was tuned to a Sudanese music station.
“We’re not ‘stupid, ungrateful tourists,’” Waleed told him, also in Arabic. “And if you even think about overcharging us, you won’t be seeing a penny of our money.”
The driver paled. “I’m sorry. I meant no offense. I was only trying to be polite.”
He babbled an apology and Waleed leaned forward to ask him to be quiet. A look of horror came over his face as he saw what was heading towards them. “Look out!” he screamed, a split second before a car careened into the side of the SUV, sending them spinning into a wall.
Glass from the smashed windows mingled with gold coins from Waleed’s case littered the street. Smoke curled up from the vehicle’s exposed engine, the trunk and hood having both popped open with the strength of the impact. Fuel gushed out from a hole in the gas tank, puddling beneath the cab and trickling towards the road. Cars zoomed past, driving perilously close to the wreck, yet paying no attention.
The SUV had come to rest with its right side against the wall. The driver was unconscious, slumped over the wheel, as Waleed clambered over him to push open the door to escape. He clung to a bundle of treasure for dear life, his little hoard getting smaller all the time.
Josh climbed into the cargo area and kicked the tailgate open, tumbling out onto the road. A passing car blared his horn at him, complaining at the audacity of someone wanting to escape a dangerous situation. He ran around to the left side and yanked the dented door open. He helped Shafira out, then the others. Samuel was the last to leave, his hand clutching at the hidden scepter so hard his knuckles were white.
“Is everyone all-” he began.
“Nooo!” screamed Shafira.
Samuel whipped out his gun, whirling round to see that Gord had grabbed Shafira. His left arm was firmly around her neck, as he held a pistol to the side of her head.
“Ah, Samuel,” sneered Pin, standing next to his henchman. “I trust I have your attention now?”
Forty-Four
Samuel kept his gun trained on Gord, while Gord pointed his at Shafira. Pin watched the pair of them, smirking cruelly like the cat that ate the canary.
“Samuel? What’s going on?” Basile staggered to his feet, taking in the sight of the Mexican stand-off. Meanwhile, Akhenaton carefully pulled the driver out of the SUV, lying him gently down on the ground to check his pulse.
“He’s dead!” he announced sadly. “Yet another innocent life taken by the Bruard.”
“His sacrifice was worth it,” shrugged Pin. “Given time, you’ll all be willing to give your lives to the cause. You’ll be begging to be allowed to die for us.”
Slowly, deliberately, he placed St. Augustine’s hat on his head, keeping his gaze focused on Samuel. He narrowed his eyes as he attempted to telepathically force Samuel to drop his weapon.
The archaeologist shook his head, trying to clear it as he felt the urge to throw his gun away. Instinctively, he reached into his backpack and took out the scepter. He unwrapped it, holding the two halves out in front of him, as if to ward off the evil man’s psychic attack. Immediately, he could feel his mind freeing itself from Pin’s influence.
“Dear, dear, dear.” Pin sucked his teeth, shaking his head at this unexpected turn of events. “It would appear that I need the scepter more than ever now. My Glorious Leader requires that no one be protected from the power of St. Augustine’s secret, with no exception. That means you, McCarthy. Hand it over.”
“Run, Samuel!” pleaded Shafira. Gord tightened his grip on her neck, choking her a little.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Samuel reassured her. “Not without you. Gord, let her go. We can sort it out between ourselves, just the two of us. Man to man.”
“No chance!” chuckled Gord. “I’m going to have a lot of fun with this one. She’s caused me too much trouble to let her go now that I finally have her.”
“Now, now, Gord,” chided Pin. “There’s room for us to be reasonable here. The Bruard is known for its benevolence.”
“Ha!” Josh couldn’t prevent the sarcastic laugh from escaping.
Pin ignored him, as he continued. “We will release the girl as soon as you hand over the scepter. Of course, you may choose to keep the scepter and walk away, but then I cannot be held responsible for Gord’s actions once she is our honored guest. I can promise you that Gord is right–he will enjoy himself at great length with her.”
He drew his own pistol, pointing it at Shafira so she was covered from both sides.
Akhenaton tugged at Samuel’s jacket. “Shafira’s right,” he whispered. “We have to go. Remember the mission. We can’t let Pin get the scepter as well as the hat.”
“Listen to Akhenaton,” agreed Waleed. “We have to get out of here. We can find a way of rescuing Shafira later when we haven’t just been in a life threatening car crash.”
“You can’t be serious!” exclaimed Josh. “We don’t leave anyone behind, especially not Shafira. I’ll never forgive you if you agree to this, Samuel. Our friendship will be over. Give him the damn scepter already and we can get out of here.”
“Yeah, because Pin’s so likely to let us walk away once he’s got what he wants,” snarked Waleed. “Ask Abdul how that worked out for him. Oh wait. You can’t.”
“What are we going to do, Samuel? What are we going to do?” Basile wrung his hands, rocking back and forth on his feet as he dithered over the right course of action.
“Yes, what are you going to do?” asked Pin. “Will you do the sensible, gentlemanly thing, and hand over the scepter to save the fair lady? Or will you be selfish, and keep it for yourself, condemning her to a fate worse than death? Because believe me, it will be worse. I’ll make sure of that myself.”
Shafira shook her head slightly. “Leave, now,” she mouthed, not wanting to give Gord an excuse to tighten his grip further.
“Come now, Samuel. I’m getting bored,” sighed Pin. “I haven’t got all day. Make a decision by the time I count down from ten, or I’ll make it for you. Ten…”
“Do the right thing, Samuel. Save Shafira,” urged Josh.
“Remember Fatima,” Akhenaton countered. “Save the world.”
“I’m sorry.” Samuel shook his head. “Shafira, do you remember our conversation last night on the boat?”
Shafira nodded her head as much as Gord’s arm would allow. Pin stopped counting to listen to what Samuel was going to say.
“I never did answer your question, did I?” Samuel smiled ruefully. “You wanted me to make you a promise, and I’ve decided that I’m going to keep that promise. I’m sorry, Josh, but I can’t give Pin the scepter, not even for Shafira. But I will find a way to save her–you have to trust me on that. We’ll get her back.”
He turned and motioned to the others to flee. Waleed immediately raced off, closely followed by Basile, but Josh stepped to block Samuel’s way.
“Don’t even think about running!” he demanded. “I will never speak to you again if you run away. You’re nothing but a coward, Samuel McCarthy!”
“Akhenaton.” Samuel sidestepped Josh, nodding to Akhenaton to bring the pilot with them by force if need be.
“Oh no, you don’t.” Josh grappled with Akhenaton, resisting the larger man’s efforts to take him to join the others.
“You really don’t make this easy, do you?” sighed Akhenaton,
suddenly performing a complicated martial arts move. Too quick for Josh to follow, he went behind the man to karate chop at his neck, knocking him out with one blow.
Catching him before he hit the ground, Akhenaton threw Josh over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift, and jogged away after the rest of the team.
“You’re not getting away from me like this!” growled Pin.
He turned his gun away from Shafira, aiming it at the retreating men. Gord’s grip loosened a little as he followed suit. Taking advantage of the slack, Shafira shoulder-butted Pin, just as he squeezed the trigger, making his shot ricochet wildly.
Ping! Pe-ow! BOOM!
Time seemed to slow down for Shafira, as she watched the unfolding scene in horror. The stray bullet hit the crashed car, and flew off into the spilled fuel.
WHOOM! The bullet instantly ignited the fuel, sending a wall of fire soaring into the air. Shafira’s heart pounded in anticipation as the fire spread to the crashed SUV. Flames licked at the paintwork as the blaze continued to follow the line of spilled fuel. Shafira closed her eyes, anticipating the blast as the fire reached the fuel tank.
It exploded like a bomb. The blast knocked Pin, Gord and Shafira to the ground, leaving them all dazed and confused. The resulting chaos provided the perfect cover for Samuel and his men to make their escape, the burning vehicle forming a barrier between them and the Bruard agents. Gord attempted to go after the adventurers, but had to take a detour into traffic to get around the fiercely burning wreck. He was nearly hit by a car, that slammed on its brakes at the last second.
“You’re going to pay for that,” warned Pin, smacking Shafira across the back of the head with his gun, knocking her out.
Samuel, now 100 yards away, turned around fired several shots in Gord’s direction, causing the big man to retreat.
