by Tom Hunter
The Knights of the Spring Dream: An Archaeological Thriller
The Relics of the Deathless Souls, Part 2
Tom Hunter
Copyright © 2018 by Andrew C Broderick
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
One
Pin bore a look of serene contentment as he looked out over the sprawling dig site headed by the famed archaeologist Samuel McCarthy with its small city of tents, from high above. His fingertips moved the sticks with expert precision as he guided the VTOL aircraft vertically down to a tire-tracked patch of sand near the entrance to the camp. It still bore two craters, blasted by the same machine’s engines when it had departed from the same spot only a day earlier.
The desert floor came up to meet the VTOL’s skids, as the engines made new holes in the ground. Pin chastised himself for allowing himself to be entranced by flying instead of considering all the potential outcomes when they arrived back at the dig site. It was essential that they avoid alerting any suspicion if at all possible. The longer they remained undetected, the better.
Pin pressed the button on his lapel to activate his holo-disguise. In an instant, his own features disappeared to be replaced with the more refined face of Director Haisam, a high-ranking official from the Ministry of State for Antiquities. Sniffing and straightening his tie, Pin took on the posture of the Director, now utterly indistinguishable from the man he was impersonating.
The remaining seven mercenaries, dressed in Egyptian military uniforms, remained emotionless. Gord, Pin’s henchman, leaned forward. He reached up to tap his employer on the shoulder before thinking better of it, choosing to clear his throat to get his attention instead.
“What’s the game plan, boss?” he asked. “How do you want us to handle things when we arrive at the dig site?”
“Hmm.” Pin took one final moment to consider his options before making a decision. “Much as it might be fun to leave no survivors, a mass slaughter will only attract more attention than we need at this stage of the mission. Still, we are bringing with us a number of important artifacts, so I’d rather not take any chances with anyone asking too many questions and thinking they can overstep their authority. Leave it to me and follow my lead.”
“Yes, sir,” nodded Gord.
As the whine of the engines faded and the sand cleared from the air, workers downed tools and came out to meet the party. Pin, Gord and the others climbed down a folding staircase. Porters hurried forward, indicating the external storage pods. “Unload, sir?”
Pin waved them away. “Stand back!” he ordered. “These artifacts are officially the property of the Ministry, and will stay under the strict supervision of my men.”
At first, the porters ignored him. Gord stepped out to block their path before they could come too close.
“Where’s Samuel?” called out one of the workers. “Why isn’t Mr. McCarthy with you?” The man was short, with a fair smattering of white and gray running through his dark hair. His skin was heavily wrinkled, thanks, no doubt, to a lifetime spent outside under the sun, combined with chain-smoking.
Gord looked over his shoulder at Pin. Sighing, the fake Director stepped forward.
“I’m afraid I have some bad news for you,” he announced, putting on an expression of extreme sorrow. “While we were investigating the caves discovered by Samuel McCarthy, we were ambushed by unknown assailants. I don’t wish to alarm any of you, but, given the ferocity of the attack, there is a possibility that they were linked with the Bruard. I barely managed to escape myself. It was extremely fortunate that I had my soldiers to defend me, but as you may have noticed, not all of them survived the battle. Sadly, they were not the only ones to fall at the hands of our enemy. Both Samuel McCarthy and Basile Rossignol were killed during the clash.”
“Not Samuel! No! I don’t believe it!”
Angered cries of disbelief broke out, as Pin made his way through the crowd, patting men on the shoulder as he offered his condolences. “I know, I know,” sighed Pin, as he put his arm around one man who was wiping tears away from the corner of his eye. “It is indeed a tragic loss, both to this dig and the world of archaeology at large. Rest assured that their sacrifice will not be in vain. We will ensure that the artifacts he uncovered will be studied and used for the benefit of all.”
“What are you going to do about the Bruard scum who did this?” raged a worker.
“None of us are safe with those monsters loose in the desert,” added another.
“Don’t worry,” Pin told them. “I’m going to return to the Ministry immediately and fully brief my colleagues about what has happened, as well as make sure that the artifacts we managed to recover are safely transported. Meanwhile, I suggest that you send word ahead of me to warn the Ministry of my imminent arrival. Hopefully they will send back up, but I’d recommend you start packing up your personal effects, just in case they decide to evacuate the site. ”
“Wait–you’re leaving us here?” The man Pin was comforting turned to him, frowning. “You can’t do that. You have to take us with you.”
“Yes, take us with you. Take us! Take us!”
The workers crowded forward, jostling Pin and Gord as they demanded to be rescued.
“Now, now.” Pin held up his hands in a calming motion. “You will all be fine for now. The Bruard are far too busy looting the cave to worry about this site for a while. They may not even come in this direction when they are done. It is entirely possible that they will want to get out of the area as quickly as they can, especially since they know that my soldiers survived to warn others.
“Besides, much as I would love to take you all with me, my craft is simply too small to transport you all. There’s safety in numbers. Stick together, and the cowardly Bruard won’t dare come near the site. You’ll have Ministry support soon enough once I report on what’s happened here, so just sit tight and everything will be fine. Now if you want to be rescued, I suggest you stand back and let me get to my plane. The sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be able to arrange for your collection.”
He nodded to Gord, who roughly elbowed the workers out of the way, so that he could escort Pin back to the VTOL. Some of the soldiers were already standing guard around the ladder up to the craft, shoving back the desperate few who were trying to climb on board against Pin’s orders.
“There’s no need for such roughness,” advised Pin, as one of the soldiers pushed a man with such force that he fell to the ground. “These men understand that they cannot come with us. Don’t you?”
He smiled at the fallen man, but there was a hard edge to his expression as he reached out to help him up, holding onto his hand a little tighter than was necessary.
“Yes, Director,” muttered the man, snatching his hand away and shaking it.
Pin climbed up into the VTOL, the rest of his team quickly following, bringing with them the crates containing the artifacts they’d taken from the cave. As soon as one of the soldiers had shut the entrance doors and secured them, Pin headed straight out to the back of the VTOL to the small kitchen area. Out of sight of the dig workers, he reached for the button on his lapel that controlled the holodisguise, switching off the Haisam appearance, once again reverting to his normal self.
“Where to, boss?” asked Gord, as Pin poured copious amounts of antibacterial soap on his hands and began scrubbing at them vigorously to rid himself of the germs that had no doubt been crawling over the worker’s skin.
“Head towards Cairo and then veer north,” came the reply. “We’re going to my private hideaway. I’ll give you the exact co-ordinates when we get closer.”
“Yes, sir.”
As the engines spun up in preparation for launch, Pin took a seat at the back of the VTOL next to where the soldiers had placed the crates, choosing now to delegate the flying to one of his men.
He lightly caressed the top of one of the crates, a satisfied smile slowly spreading across his face. As the VTOL rose into the sky, he lifted off the lid to reveal the mystical headdress he’d waited so long to possess.
“You beautiful, beautiful thing,” he murmured. “Oh, how the Bruard will love you, if only the secret of your power could be unleashed.”
He reached out to touch the headdress before thinking better of it, his hand curling into a fist before withdrawing and gently replacing the lid, leaving the artifact undisturbed a little while longer.
Two
Smoke curled into the air, rising up from the large hole blown in the top of the rock to rescue Samuel, Basile and Akhenaton. Sporadically there were loud rumblings and bangs as another part of the tunnel collapsed into the underground catacombs. Samuel stood to one side, looking down into the void, mesmerized by the crater, and wincing with each crash at the thought of yet more priceless ancient artifacts being lost forever.
At last, Samuel tore his gaze away from the chasm, reminding himself that although the explosion had caused incalculable devastation to the network of caves running beneath the rock, at least none of his friends had died. He made his way round to where the others were examining the remaining vehicles, looking for one that might be roadworthy enough to get them back to the dig site.
“Any luck?” he asked Basile, as the Frenchman tinkered with the engine of one of the striders.
The engineer stood up, wiping his hands down on his clothes as he shook his head.
“Pin and his men have sabotaged everything,” he replied. “They were very thorough. I guess they didn’t want to leave anything to chance, even though they’d trapped us in the caves. There isn’t a single vehicle that is salvageable. I’m good, but even I’m not good enough to be able to stitch snapped cables together and pull spark plugs out of thin air.”
Samuel sighed heavily, as Shafira and Waleed came over to join them, having finished their examination of the other striders.
“What about you two?” he asked. “Did you find anything useful?”
“Nothing.” Waleed tutted. “Someone really wanted to make certain you three would never leave this place alive.”
“I knew there was something wrong with the Director, but I had no idea that he was Pin Nam-Gi in disguise,” said Shafira. “I know they say that the Bruard is ruthless, but how could anyone trap three people in a tomb like that and leave them to starve to death? He condemned you to a slow, painful death. And for what? Nothing is worth killing for.”
“It could have been worse,” Basile pointed out. “You might never have found us. When you persuaded Josh to help you, you ensured that you had someone with you who knew how to find the cave despite the camouflage. Without him on your side, you could have flown straight over us and never known we were there. But, we’re alive, and where there’s life, there’s always hope.”
“Are you so sure about that?” said Josh. He did not look happy.
“Don’t say it,” warned Basile. “I’ve got a horrible feeling I know what you’re going to say, and I’ve had just about as much bad news as I can take in one day.”
“Sorry, Basile,” sighed Josh. “I’ve double checked how much fuel I’ve got left in the copter, and it’s even worse than I thought. I miscalculated how much we used. It looks like I’ve only got enough to get us about a quarter of the way back to the dig. We’d have to touch down and walk the rest of the way. While it’d save us some time, it won’t make any difference in the end. Unless you found a few gallons of water in the striders, the few canteens we’ve got left aren’t going to be enough to see us out of here, not without leaving someone behind. I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy waiting around to be rescued without any food or water. We’re going to have to come up with a plan B.”
“You’re not seriously considering leaving someone behind, are you?” asked Waleed nervously. “How would we decide who that lucky individual should be?”
“No one’s getting left behind, so you can stop talking like that,” put in Samuel firmly. “We’re in this mess because of the Bruard. We’re not going to do their dirty work by sacrificing one of us to save the others. We’re in this together and we’ll figure out a way out of here together, or we’ll all stay here–together. Maybe someone will fly over and we can attract their attention. We could use some of the supplies that were left behind to write out a large SOS in the sand or maybe start a fire. If we can build a big enough fire, perhaps the smoke will attract attention.”
“Really? This far in the middle of nowhere?” Basile raised an eyebrow cynically. “I thought no one had found this site for centuries and suddenly a fire will have rescue teams swarming over us like locusts?”
“Have you got a better idea?” countered Samuel.
“I might have,” said Akhenaton, who’d been standing to one side, quietly thinking while the others talked.
“Please tell me it doesn’t involve any more of your myth and mystery,” sighed Basile, as Samuel shot him a dark look.
“We may not have enough fuel to get back to your dig site,” Akhenaton continued, ignoring Basile. “But I think there may be enough to get us to my Order’s nearest camp. We have a number of small camps scattered around anywhere one of St. Augustine’s relics is secreted, so there are always plenty of men available to defend them when necessary.”
“And that worked so well for you this time,” Basile pointed out.
“It would have been fine if you and your colleagues hadn’t interfered,” Akhenaton intoned. “We know what we’re doing, unlike some.”
“So we’re close to where your Order has their headquarters?” asked Samuel, trying to change the subject.
“No.” Akhenaton shook his head. “These camps are just small outposts. The main Order headquarters is elsewhere.”
“Let me guess,” sneered Basile. “You’d tell us but then you’d have to kill us. Zut alors!”
“I wouldn’t tell you anything, actually,” replied Akhenaton. “All you need to know is that my Order has many camps all over the place from here to Hippo, all with the sole intention of protecting St. Augustine’s many secrets.”
Basile frowned. “Just how many relics did this guy leave behind?”
Akhenaton said nothing, merely smiling enigmatically.
Three
“Seriously, Akhenaton,” Basile went on. “You can’t just tell us that there are lots of camps all over the place, each of them protecting more mysterious artifacts, and then say ‘oh, but it’s all a secret.’”
“I can do whatever I like,” Akhenaton shrugged. “I don’t care if you find it irritating or annoying or so unfair. I’m not here to pander to special snowflakes. Your delicate sensibilities do not matter to me.”
“Excuse me?” Basile let loose with a torrent of French that made it very clear how he felt about being insulted.
“That’s enough, the pair of you.” Samuel stepped between the two men, glaring at Basile to be quiet. “Look, Akhenaton. I get it. You’re part of a secret Order and you’ve taken vows that you don’t want to break. But we’ve all had a bad day and it’s only going to get worse if we don’t figure out a way out of here, and fast. I need information if I’m going to get everyone safely back to the dig so we can figure out a way to stop Pin from doing whatever it is he’s going to do with St. Augustine’s headdress.”
“I’m under no obligation to you,” Akhenaton pointed out. “You made this mess. If you’d just let me destroy the headdress, we wouldn’t have to worry about your Pin.”
“He’s not my Pin,” spat
Samuel. “And even if you had destroyed the headdress, he would still have trapped us in the cave, and we still would have needed Josh and Shafira to rescue us.”
“And me!” pointed out Waleed, but Samuel was too focused on Akhenaton to correct his omission.
“You owe us your life, dammit!” Samuel continued. “For all your talk about trust, you don’t seem to be able to recognize that the people standing right in front of you are exactly the kind of people you need on your side. We have skills, knowledge, experience, all useful to your cause. I don’t care how big your Order’s supposed to be. You need our help. None of us can do this on our own. Do you get me?”
Samuel grabbed Akhenaton’s lapels, shaking him a little to emphasize his point. Akhenaton very carefully and deliberately looked down at Samuel’s hands and then up again, staring him straight in the eye.
“Do you know what happened the last time a man dared to lay a hand on me?” he asked. “No, don’t answer. It was a rhetorical question. You couldn’t possibly know about the way that he screamed as I grabbed his little finger. It snapped as easily as a twig in my hand. Then, while he was doubled over in agony, to ensure that he had truly learned his lesson, I grabbed a handful of his hair and rammed his face into a nearby wall. It took a full ten minutes for him to stop the bleeding, but he never fully regained his pretty-boy looks. I’d hate to see the same thing happen to you.”
“That’s enough, both of you.” Shafira surged forward, reaching out to pull the two men apart, but Basile stopped her.
“Samuel’s got this,” he advised. “They need to sort this out between themselves.”
“If you think you can intimidate me, you’re sadly mistaken,” Samuel told Akhenaton. “I’ve faced far worse than you in my time. If you want to fight me, then fight me. Go on. I’ll even let you throw the first punch for free. But I humbly posit that if you do, you’ll be doing Pin’s work for him. I don’t know about you, but the thought of what that man might be capable of absolutely terrifies me. You can threaten to torture me all you want. It won’t matter if he’s torturing the entire world. Isn’t it about time you dropped the tough man act and worked together with us? If we haven’t proven ourselves trustworthy by now, I don’t know that we ever will.”
