by Tom Hunter
“Oui, bien sur.” Basile made a little salute.
“What–no argument? You must be feeling under the weather,” Samuel quipped.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” warned Basile, as he went and stretched out on Samuel’s bed, soon snoring away.
Seeing Shafira glance worriedly at the engineer, Samuel went to sit by her.
“Basile will be fine,” he said. “Dr. Ramirez is the best in the business.”
Shafira looked at him for a moment, her big, dark eyes inscrutable in the dim light, then got up to take a seat on the other side of the tent, as far away from Samuel as she could get. He watched her go, deciding against forcing the issue. It was becoming frustratingly clear that she was going to leave them as soon as they arrived in Cairo, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was going to really miss her when she was gone.
Twenty-Nine
“How can this be?” Pin clenched his fist, thumping his desk in annoyance.
He picked up the report he’d thrown down, reading it yet again in case there was anything in it he’d misunderstood.
MEMO
To: Pin Nam-Gi
From: The office of our Glorious Leader, Pae Bruard Min-Soo
Do not feel that your utter lack of grace and secrecy has gone unnoticed. It is entirely down to your incompetence that armed military have been observed arriving at a dig site in Egypt, a site that should have been dismissed long ago as being of no consequence. Now, instead of our being able to use it as a base of operations, we will have to make alternative arrangements that will be costly and inconvenient. This is as a direct result of your failure to cover your tracks thoroughly.
Given this turn of events, we are now questioning what other mistakes have been made under your supervision. Up until this moment, we have trusted you with some of our most important missions on the understanding that you were more than capable of carrying out our instructions without failure. We are wondering now whether we were mistaken in allowing you this level of responsibility.
Be aware that you are under observation and we do not tolerate ineptitude among our agents.
Tread carefully.
Pin’s stomach twisted and turned in knots, as he felt an unfamiliar stab of nerves and self-doubt. The memo was correct in one detail: clearly something had gone horribly wrong. But what? Pin was usually so careful to cover all his bases. What had been the weak link in the chain of recent events?
He scrabbled through his papers, looking for any clue to the error he’d made, wondering who was truly at fault. If the Bruard didn’t insist on surrounding him with fools and idiots, it would be easier to do a better job.
Gord! Was Gord to blame? He should never have allowed the brute to slaughter Haisam. His bloodlust was insatiable and frequently overwhelmed his judgment. It was thanks to his sloppy murder of the Director that Shafira had sensed that something was wrong, which had had far-reaching consequences.
The irony was that it hadn’t even been necessary to kill the Director. There were plenty of holding facilities available and with the holodisguise, someone else could have maintained the appearance of the Director. Instead, his death couldn’t be covered forever, not now that Shafira had aroused the suspicion of the authorities.
All it would take would be for one of Haisam’s little darlings to ask when daddy was coming home, and the investigation would be reopened and Gord’s handiwork would be discovered.
Was it time to dispense with his services?
Pin stood up and went to look out of his office window, although his focus was anywhere but on the idyllic views facing him. It occurred to him that there may be another potential culprit.
“Samuel McCarthy?” hissed Pin, venom infusing every syllable. It was inconceivable to think that the archaeologist and his companions had escaped the tomb. They’d packed the entrance with enough explosives to blow them to Kingdom Come. Assuming they’d survived the blast, there was simply no way that they could still be alive with no food, water, or air.
Not for the first time, Pin wished that he’d simply shot the archaeologist, but he consoled himself with the thought that the man had suffered a slow, agonizing death. There was simply no other possibility. The man was buried under countless tons of rock.
Which left a final option. One of his agents had been caught and questioned, revealing everything. This was something that was never supposed to happen. Spies were under strict instructions to kill themselves in the event of capture. For those who lacked the fortitude to take the honorable way out, the Bruard had contacts within various government agencies to ensure the job was done one way or another. However, there was always a possibility that one had slipped through the net and bartered for his life by offering information. If that was the case, then there was no knowing how much the Egyptian authorities knew about their plans.
Pin paled as he realized there was a very real possibility he could face recall to Korea and a traitor’s execution. In the eyes of the Bruard, failure equated treason and even allowing for the actions of others, there was no denying that Pin had not been quite the calm hand his masters required.
He shuddered as he considered the horrors of a slow death following a month of torture. Bruard executioners were world class in their ability to keep a man alive in the face of unspeakable pain and mutilation. Indeed, Pin had personally observed their work first hand when seeking information from a prisoner and he’d learned a few new tricks as a consequence. The idea of being subject to their mercy–or rather, lack thereof–was enough to give any man nightmares.
He was going to have to do something and fast if he was to avoid an ignominious fate, his final remains thrown to the pigs, denying Pin entry to the afterlife.
As if beckoned by an unseen force, Pin gradually turned to where St. Augustine’s headdress sat on the sideboard, patiently waiting for someone to be brave enough to try it on. There was still time to save himself, if he could only find a way to change his Glorious Leader’s mind.
Slowly, slowly, he crossed the room, step by step, drawn inexorably to the hat. Reaching out, he caressed the embroidery, closing his eyes as he savored the feel of the ancient craftwork. The psychic, Fatima, still eluded his grasp and perhaps always would. While it would be useful to have her to teach him how to use the power of the headdress, perhaps her input was not as important as he’d initially thought. After all, there was a lot to be said for learning through experience.
Closing his eyes, he conjured up a vision of the Bruard rewarding him for his efforts, as Pin carefully placed the hat on his head.
Thirty
“Lady and gentlemen, I’d like to welcome you to the beautiful city of Cairo,” announced Josh. “Thank you for traveling by Josh Bradley skimmer, and if you are leaving the party at this stop I’d like to take this opportunity to wish you a pleasant onward trip.”
“You just can’t resist can you?” chuckled Samuel. “When you pass your pilot’s license, do they make you take an oath that you’ll end every single journey with that hackneyed spiel?”
“They won’t give you your license if you don’t,” Josh deadpanned, as he powered down the engines. He’d pulled into a parking lot on the outskirts of a bazaar. Although it was meant to be for the sole use of the tour company that hired out skimmers for desert tours, he figured that the best place to hide the vehicle was in plain sight. The company wouldn’t mind getting a free skimmer, would they?
It was early morning and the city was just waking up. The intense sun was already heating up the stone buildings, though they still cast long shadows over one another. Storekeepers threw their doors open, laying out the displays outside to tempt customers inside, while commuters made their way through the busy streets on their way to work.
Josh and his passengers piled out of the skimmer, all of them glad to have the opportunity to stretch out after hours cramped together in the vehicle.
“Ahhhh.” Waleed inhaled deeply. “You’ve gotta love the smell of civilization.”
“Coffee,” sighed Josh. “That’s the one thought that’s kept me going over these last few hours. What I wouldn’t give for a decent cup of Joe and a bagel or three after weeks of dried rations and water.”
“There’s a café just over there.” Waleed pointed to a building on the edge of the parking lot. “Why don’t we go and treat ourselves? I’m sure Samuel could charge it back to the Ministry.”
“Bon idée,” nodded Basile. “Good idea.”
“Hold your horses,” warned Samuel as the men started to make their way to the café. “I’m completely with you on wanting to have a decent meal, but we’ve got a trip to Algeria to prepare, remember? Before you all go gorging yourselves sick on proper food, I think we ought to sort out a few details first. And no, Waleed. I’m not charging the Ministry to fill your belly.”
“Seriously?” protested Waleed. “Surely there must be some perks to your job?”
“Look, I’ll pay for your food myself if it’ll make you happy, but we’ve got more important things to worry about first,” Samuel snapped. “Like figuring out who’s coming along on this quest. Right now, you’re treating it like a holiday instead of what it really is–a potentially fatal assignment where the future of the world is at stake. I don’t want anyone by my side who doesn’t want to be there. This mission’s strictly volunteer only, with no judgment on anyone who decides it’s not for them.” He looked meaningfully at Shafira, who avoided his gaze. “No judgment at all.”
“I go where my leader goes,” said Akhenaton. “And Samuel has more than proven himself worthy to lead. This is a way of life for me and I wouldn’t have left my home if I wasn’t going to see this mission through. I’m in it until we succeed or I take my last breath.”
“I suspected as much,” smiled Samuel. “Anyone else?”
“As far as Chantal is concerned, I’m supposed to stay out in the field for at least another month and I’d hate to disappoint her by coming home early,” Basile quipped. “She really wasn’t happy with me when I threw a surprise birthday party for her once–she told me that she needs time to mentally prepare for these things, make sure she’s tried on at least nine different outfits to ensure she’s dressed appropriately, that sort of nonsense. I wouldn’t like to think what her reaction would be if I arrived unexpectedly and ruined her alone time.”
“You goof.” Samuel nudged his friend with his elbow as he turned to Josh.
“You’re stuck with me for the duration,” Josh said. “The Bruard owe me for the helicopter I had to abandon in the desert, and I want payback. Besides, believe it or not, in all my years of flying, I’ve never been to Algeria. I’d like to tick that one off the bucket list.”
“Well I’m in it for the money,” shrugged Waleed, although the grin that accompanied his words suggested that he wasn’t entirely serious. “You won’t be able to get rid of me until we’ve cashed in the potential payout all those relics represent.”
“Yeah, you linger like a bad smell,” joked Josh. “It doesn’t seem to matter what we do, we can’t shake you.”
“You’d miss me if I were gone,” Waleed claimed.
“I’m up for testing that theory,” Josh replied.
“All right, you two.” Samuel put up a hand for silence. “We’re a team and that means that we all need to get along, despite our differences. Waleed has skills that are just as useful as everyone else’s. You never know when we might need him. Welcome on board, Waleed.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Waleed nodded his head in acknowledgment.
“That leaves you, Shafira,” said Samuel, working to keep his tone light. “I know you’ve been having second thoughts. If you want to stay in Cairo, we’d all understand.”
“Thank you.”
Samuel waited for Shafira to say more, but she didn’t.
“Look, I guess you’ve probably already made up your mind, but just in case you haven’t, I meant it when I said that we all have useful skills,” Samuel told her, wanting to fill the awkward silence. “That includes you. You’ve been instrumental in saving my life and if it wasn’t for you, Basile might have lost his arm, or worse. You’ve been a vital part of the team and we wouldn’t be here without your help. Having said that, we’re about to walk into unknown danger and none of us will hold a grudge against you if you decide to stay in Cairo, will we?”
Waleed opened his mouth to say something, but Josh glared at him until he thought better of it.
Shafira sighed deeply. “It’s true that I’m afraid of what we’re facing. When I persuaded Josh to take me out to the dig site, I had no idea that we were dealing with the B… the enemy.” She lowered her voice to a loud whisper. “I won’t deny it. I feel like I’m in way over my head. I’m just a desk clerk. Mysterious ancient artifacts and plots to take over the world are above my pay grade, and then some.”
“I completely understand,” Samuel reassured her. “I really do. It’s a lot to ask of anyone, especially someone with no experience in the field.”
“It is,” Shafira agreed. “That’s why I’ve been seriously considering walking away.” She sighed again. “The problem is, that if I do that, I’d be walking away from everything I’ve always wanted. How many times have you heard me complain about the lack of excitement in my life, Josh?”
“I’ve lost count,” he replied.
“And how many times I’ve had said that I wanted stories of my own to tell, that I was sick of Yusuf having all the fun, or watching you disappear off into the sunset on another adventure?”
“A lot,” Josh beamed, seeing where the conversation was heading.
“I can’t simply sit back and let the world burn because I’m afraid,” Shafira said. “I’m in–if you’ll have me.”
“You have no idea how happy I am that you’ve said that.” Samuel pulled her into a big bear hug, as the other men crowded round to pat her on the back.
“Right,” he said, when they’d finally stopped celebrating. “I guess we need to go and book six tickets to Algeria.”
“After we’ve had breakfast,” protested Waleed. “You promised and I’m absolutely starving!”
“You’re right. I did,” said Samuel. “I suggest we all grab some food together before heading to the nearest ticket office. That’ll give us a chance to plan our next step.”
“I hope you’ve got a healthy bank balance,” warned Waleed as they headed towards the café. “I’m so hungry I could eat an elephant!”
Thirty-One
“Are you ready to order, sir?” asked the waiter as he poured out a cup of coffee for Samuel.
“Could you give me another couple of minutes, please?” Samuel shook his head. “I haven’t been able to decide–it all looks so good!”
“Not a problem.” The waiter retreated to serve another table, as Samuel turned his attention to the menu.
“Need a recommendation?” Samuel’s face lit up when he saw Shafira standing there.
“That would be great,” he admitted, as Shafira took the seat opposite him. “The problem with coming back to the city is there’s too much choice. I just can’t seem to make up my mind!”
“My, my,” she remarked, taking in his appearance. “It’s amazing the difference a couple of hours in a motel makes. You’ve actually managed to shave and is that-? No! It can’t be! You’re wearing a clean shirt, one that’s actually ironed!”
“Ha-ha,” Samuel drawled. “Sarcasm’s the lowest form of wit you know.”
“And yet it’s so much fun,” countered Shafira, as the waiter returned with another menu for her.
“Do you need a few more moments?” he asked.
“No need.” Shafira shook her head. “I’ll have the falafel, while my friend here will have the three bean casserole. Oh, and if you could fetch me a cup of coffee as well, that would be great.”
“Of course.” The waiter gathered up their
menus, returning momentarily with Shafira’s coffee.
“Well, then,” said Samuel, suddenly finding himself at an unusual loss for words.
“Well, then,” echoed Shafira, as they fell into a silence that stretched a little too long.
“Have I told you how happy it made me to hear you say you’d come to Algeria?” Samuel finally asked. “It was one of the nicest surprises I’ve had in ages. I must admit that I was absolutely convinced you were going to stay in Cairo. It’s not exactly been a laugh-a-minute since you came out to the dig.”
“No, it hasn’t,” Shafira agreed, “but I meant it when I said that I wanted stories of my own to tell. And you have to admit that our adventures make for one incredible story already. Who knows what’s going to happen next?”
“Indeed,” nodded Samuel. “But why do I get the feeling that that’s not the only reason you’ve got for coming along?”
Shafira hesitated before replying. “You’ll think it’s silly.”
“Try me.” Samuel smiled encouragingly.
“Believe it or not, I’ve always had an interest in ancient history,” Shafira told him. “Meeting Akhenaton’s Order was a little like stepping back in time. I had no idea that such organizations still existed. The Knights of the Spring Dream appear unique in being an Augustinian Order that has moved away from the traditional mendicant lifestyle focused on pastoral care. It’s fascinating to see them taking up arms in defense of what they believe is important, even if they eschew modern weaponry.
