by Larry Hunt
“Two scientists were not among those killed in the fighting. The aliens did not release them... according to Tinker’s count of the bodies - one was a man - she did not know who he was - the other was a woman...you all got yourselves seated and your drinks in hand?”
“Come on Doc get to the good part the suspense is killing us.”
“The woman’s name was...was...”
“Darn it, Doc tell us.” Demanded Lonnie Joe.
“Helga...Helga Friedman, a German chemist.”
* * * * * *
The team endured a fitful night in their luxurious hotel rooms nestled quietly beside the ancient and historic Nile. Off in the distance a glimpse could be seen of the majestic Great Pyramid of Giza still brightly lit by huge searchlights displaying to everyone its rightful claim as the only remaining survivor of the original Seven Wonders of the Ancient World; however, this peaceful and tranquil scene did nothing to settle their nerves.
Sleep they knew they must have but sleep evaded them - they could not get over the evenings revelations by Dr. Scarburg.
They kept rehashing mankind’s baffling age-old question since the beginning of recorded history: Is it possible future events have an affect on the present and what about the present does it have an affect on the past. Could the future affect the past?
How could a German chemist who vanished from Cambodia in 1967 re-appear forty-three years later as a three thousand year old mummy, number XM-78, found in the sands of the desert in Egypt? There’s got be to be a logical explanation and the SCAR team was the perfect vehicle to ascertain the truth.
* * * ~~~ * * *
CHAPTER NINE
Meet Mr. Anhur
The hot Egyptian sun had seemingly just popped into the morning sky like a fishing cork surfacing. The day did not gently break free from the darkness of the previous night it suddenly appeared as if it had never set the day before.
It was already hot and miserable...at least the heat wasn't as bad as it was going to get later on in the day. And something they could not ignore - the fog, oh, the fog. Looking out their 14th floor vantage point the ancient Nile River was enveloped in a thick soup of early morning fog. What a scene they thought - worthy of a beautiful postcard.
After engaging in a conversation with the desk clerk they were informed it wasn't uncommon for temperatures in the desert to reach 114 or 115 degrees; the team was heading to this desert hellhole in a matter of a few minutes.
It was 7 am. The sun had already been baking the air, like an oven set on high, for an hour. The Wahati (“of the oasis”) driver was standing in the shade outside his silver-grey Toyota mini-bus. His head and face covered by a white keffiyah that never left his narrow, almost non-existent face exposed. He impatiently began to pace back and forth as he waited for the scientists and the impending five-hour trip down the Desert Road to the Bahariya Oasis.
He was a diminutive man exhibiting an ashen almost grey skin much too pale to be a native, or, his days in the blistering hot Egyptian sun had been very limited.
His large black almond shaped sinister eyes darted side to side, behind the huge pair of sunglasses. Shading his piercing gaze was an archaic soiled white kilim fabric fez. Color coordinated with his begrimed white linen suit. The old-fashioned suit was so worn its thread bear shine appeared silver when the light caught it just right. The silver medallion and silver chain he wore, in a weird kind of way, were an accent to this heap of rags. And the gloves he wore added to his odd appearance.
It was highly unusual for an Egyptian to wear both a keffiyah and a fez at the same time. In the case of this driver it appeared he was using the fez’s streaming silver threaded tassel to protect his face from the sun’s rays and the fez added extra protection from the sun’s terrible heat. The fez’s almost l foot height gave the driver the appearance of greater height than his actual 5-foot stature would suggest.
As the mysterious driver continued to nervously pace back and forth the front door to the Flairmount automatically swung open and Dr. Louis Scarburg, Dr. Gabrielle Friedman, Dr. Jacque Jollett and Dr. Lonnie Joe Wheeler emerged with their personal gear and research equipment.
Walking around to the rear of the bus to store their equipment Dr. Scarburg introduced himself and his crew to the driver. The driver, bowing to Dr. Scarburg softly spoke, “Anhur al-Busiri,” he said; however, his eyes, behind the sunglasses were focused on Gabby's exposed long sun-tanned legs.
Dr. Scarburg responded, “Nice to meet you Anhur, Egyptian?” Lou extended his hand for a handshake there was no response.
“Are you Egyptian?” He asked again thinking maybe the driver did not hear the question.
“Egyptian? What do you think is an Egyptian?” He responded in a nearly inaudible whisper as he rubbed the exquisite silver medallion mounted on the beautifully woven silver chain hanging around his neck.
‘What did he mean? What is an Egyptian?’ Lou was confused. The words “Osiris Scenic Egyptian Tours” encircled a symbol on the side of the Toyota bus. This company logo was divided into four sections representing a bull, an eagle, a man and a lion.
Hopping upon the bottom bus step Dr. Lou glanced outside toward the rear of the bus as Anhur finished loading their equipment. Lou had a nagging feeling... something just wasn't right with Anhur…besides he was pissed at him for ogling Gabby. Taking his seat at the front he turned to face the others and softly spoke, “Do any of you find our guide...uh...uh...strange?
No one spoke but Gabby, “Well yeah...his name.”
“What do you mean, Gabby?”
“The Egyptian name 'Anhur' is translated as 'Sky God' or 'Brings back the distant one' and 'al-Busiri' is 'Of the place of Osiris'. I think it IS 'strange' for an Egyptian man's name. Normally Egyptian men follow family traditional naming practices.”
'Well', thought Lou. 'Okay…I'll give him some more thought later.' “Let's get down to Bahariya and check out our mystery woman,” he said to the others.
Had Dr. Scarburg been paying more attention to his surroundings than to Anhur he would have noticed the small silhouette standing in the shadows a mere rocks throw from their bus, of, of...
...a small man in a golden suit adorned with an ethereal golden medallion and golden chain - watching their every move.
* * * ~~~ * * *
CHAPTER TEN
SOUTHWEST ROAD TO THE BAHARIYA OASIS
The 'strange' driver stepped up into the bus carrying a cooler full of cold bottled water and cans of soda. Looking down at the cooler Dr. Scarburg thought, 'you can do without a lot of things in the desert but water is not one of them.’
The mini-bus pulled out of the Flairmount parking lot and turned right heading south into Cairo’s morning traffic. The guide turned the bus onto Komesh el Nile Street. This main thoroughfare followed the eastern side of the Nile southward toward the 6th of October Bridge - the main crossing from the east side of the river to the west side. The traffic was light but the dense fog along the Nile River had enveloped them to the point where the street ahead was beginning to become almost impossible to see or follow.
After passing over the 6th of October Bridge the fog lessened and the travelers took the el Ahram Road to the Desert Road. The morning streets of Cairo were beginning to become crowded and overwhelming.
They were filling with cars, trucks, camels, motorcycles, donkey carts, taxis, mopeds, and bicycles. Everyone with a horn of any type or description was blowing it - continuously.
Anhur, the mini-bus driver had learned the rules of the road - active aggression.
Passing was taking ones life for granted. When attempting to pass and you encounter an on-coming speeding vehicle, no worry, you pass anyway. An approaching two ton instrument of instant death has to get out of your way - by turning into a side road, pulling over into the right on-coming traffic lane or driving down the left side of the road. New York cabbies would feel right at home here.
Leaving the horses, donkeys, water buffalo and cart
s loaded with vegetables the bus made a final turn onto the el Bahariya el Wahat Highway. This road led southwest to Bahariya - finally no more turns until the arrival at the Oasis.
Turning onto the el Wahat Road they had long since left the thick riverfront fog. The fine August day was now sunny bright. The sky was a cloudless clear blue - beginning as a light cyan at the horizon and progressing to a rich beautiful medium blue directly overhead. It appeared the day was perfect for the roughly five-hour drive - how deceiving the Egyptian weather can be.
Gabby and Roche had found a seat in the rear of the bus and were whispering sweet nothings in each other’s ear. After each exchange Gabby would giggle like a teenager with her first ‘crush’. Their antics were unacceptable to Dr. Lou - this ‘teenager’ was his sister that Roche had his eye on; however, Lou had to remember she was a grown woman now and her decisions were her business, not his.
A couple of hours later as the Toyota mini-bus was continuing it’s southwestern trek Dr. Lou spoke to their driver, “Anhur...excuse me Anhur.” There was no response from the child-sized driver. “Anhur...look to your left off in the distance. What do you think that is? A storm?”
Dr. Scarburg and Lonnie Joe had all moved over to the left side of the bus to get a better look at the dark, reddish-brown, angry looking, bellowing clouds off to the southeast. Gabby and the her handsome Jacque seemed to be real comfortable remaining right where they were.
The driver appeared to pay no attention to Dr. Scarburg’s request. He continued his wide-open driving quest toward the Oasis.
* * * ~~~ * * *
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The Storm
“Anhur...Anhur...look at those clouds...what is it? There is not a cloud anywhere else in the sky but I have never seen such a mean looking brute of a storm. Have you ever seen anything like this before?”
Before Anhur had a chance to answer, LJ spoke up. “Lou, I’ve seen this before...I know what it is...and the answer is bad. Bad I tell you.”
“What...? Come on LJ what is it?”
“The locals call it a Khamsin.”
“A Kham what?”
“A Khamsin - a hellacious wind and dust storm. I’ve been in a couple of them before but never in August. These things usually hit in the spring; never heard of one this late in the year.”
“LJ, you think we have time to make the Oasis?”
“Uh-uh...” he said shaking his head. “We’re still, at least three hours out of Bahariya and that Mother Nature’s monster is going to engulf us in less than an hour. I know...your next question is how long does one of these hellions last? Anywhere from a few hours to as long as a couple of days, you never know until it’s over.
I can tell you during Napoleon’s Egyptian campaign, around the year 1800, a storm such as this suddenly appeared as a reddish brown tempest on the distant horizon. The Egyptians took cover. The French reacted too late - many choked and died in the suffocating wall of dust.”
“Well LJ how do we fight this storm? You’re the closest thing we have to an ‘expect’ on this tempest we’ve got coming... what do you suggest we do?”
Lonnie Joe thought hard and long then answered, “Doc, I suggest we stop immediately before the ‘blow’ hits then as they say ‘batten down the hatches’ and wait it out in the bus. I suggest we stop now and let the engine cool down... in about forty-five minutes or so we’ll go outside and drain water from the radiator into our ice chest. We can dip our handkerchiefs or shirts in it and wrap them around our faces to breathe. We need to save what little amount of drinking water we have to drink.”
“Wait...hold on LJ...antifreeze is deadly poison. Why not use the ice water in the cooler?” Asked Gabby.
“Your right Gabby antifreeze would be deadly but they never use antifreeze in their vehicles over here - never gets that cold - it would help in the heat but these people would rather have the money than the anti-freeze. As far as the water in the cooler - we never had any - the cooler used those frozen chemical ice packs.
Next we will need to point the front of our vehicle in the opposite direction from which the storm is coming, otherwise the engine compartment will fill with sand. Once the wind starts if we venture outside the grains of sands will be blowing so hard and furious we risk blindness.
There should be a first-aid kit up by Anhur - we need to take the adhesive tape and tape up the edges of the windows, as best we can. Cram any pieces of extra clothing around the front and rear doors. It will be impossible to keep all the dust out but stopping any little bit will help.
Need I say more? It’s going to get bad...really...really bad.”
Dr. Scarburg moved back to the front of the bus and spoke directly to Anhur the driver, “Anhur a monster of a sand storm is coming - stay on the road until you can find a place to pull over and turn the bus toward the northeast,” Doc motioning toward the right with his arm.
Everyone sat down in his or her seat but all on the left side of the bus so they could keep an eye on the swiftly approaching enormous wind driven beast.
LJ knew his Egyptian Khamsin - the storm was almost in full force and was certain to envelop the bus in less than an hour.
Little did anyone on the bus realize that possibly the blinding windstorm and blowing sand had caused the road sign pointing toward Bahariya to shift directions and point to the wrong highway. This small trick of fate caused Anhur to take the only road turning off the el Bahariya el Wahat Highway - the el Betrol Road.
Bad mistake...el Betrol headed directly to Syria - a direction directly opposite their Bahariya destination. Most travelers never returned from an adventure on this road.
Dr. Lou sitting in the front seat yelled at Anhur as he was making his turn, “Watch out Anhur - there’s a man standing out there!” All jumped up to see what Lou was hollering about but they saw nothing. “Sorry,” said Lou, “the wind must be playing tricks on my eyes.”
The wind and sand were being driving savagely past their vehicle; however, it did not seem to bother a figure standing close to the mis-directed road sign it was the figure of...of...
...a small man in a golden suit adorned with an ethereal golden medallion and golden chain - watching their every move.
* * * ~~~ * * *
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE WRONG ROAD TRAVELED
Instead of heading south-southwest to the Oasis Anhur, following the road sign, mistakenly veered off the Bahariya Road and was now heading north-northwest toward Syria on the el Betrol Road.
Anhur had to drive for a while before finding a place to stop. After a short wait to allow the motor to cool the men got out, covered their faces the best they could and obtained a couple gallons of radiator water.
This area of Egypt, known as the Western Desert, is sparsely inhabited in the best of times. Toward the Syrian frontier there is total desolation. No towns, no water, no trees, no nothing; however, there are two things - an abundance of sand and blistering heat.
There are no shortages of these last two items; also in plentiful supply in the western desert of Egypt - bandits. These bandits are traveling hordes of marauding thieves and murderers. They prey on the occasional tourists, who, unintentionally, wander into this remote god-forsaken desert area. Unfortunately these innocent victim’s bodies are usually never found.
The storm worsened - the bus had halted but even with all windows up and taped and the door shut tight the wind whistled and howled outside allowed a fine mist of dust to permeate the interior confines of the mini-bus.
Sobbing could be heard coming from the back of the bus. It was Gabby. “We’re all going to die. I know you won’t tell me Lou or Jacque but we are going to die...die...I know it.” She screamed hysterically.
“Oh shut up Gabby! We ARE NOT dying. Pull yourself together. Roche see if you can calm her down,” Lou replied. “I’ll tell you when you are dying, and its not now. Settle down!”
Handkerchiefs had been dipped in the radiator water. Everyone on the bus looked
like The Jesse James gang getting ready to rob the local bank. Funny as they looked the wet handkerchiefs did help alleviate the choking effect of the fine particulates of sand; however, the sand wasn’t their only problem - the sandstorm had raised the daytime temperature by, at least, 10 - 15 degrees. Instead of the normal desert temperature of 105 to 110 the outside temperature was approaching 115 to 120 degrees. Inside the enclosed bus the stifling heat was almost unbearable.
A whole day had passed and the winds did not show any sign of abating. They continued their howling rampage - dust was covering everything and everyone inside the bus. Visibility was still zero outside.
The supply of sodas and water was beginning to dwindle. Dr. Lou surveyed the contents and discovered rationing was on the immediate horizon. When they left early this morning from the Nile side Flairmount hotel they were expecting, at most a five-hour trip. They loaded a 12-pack of bottled water and a 12-pack of sodas. Doc’s inventory revealed a couple bottles of water and one soda. Nothing else remained.
“Guys,” said Lou. “I know you are hot, I am too, but only a sip or two of water from now on until we get out of here. We don’t know when this storm will subside so we must conserve what little we have left. Remember we still have a few more hours to go before reaching the Bahariya Oasis once this storm is over. For the time being try to relax, and conserve energy.”
Not wanting to alert the guide Anhur who remained seated behind the steering wheel, Doc said, “Lets all go to the back of the bus and check our equipment.”
“Darn it Lou, its hot, there’s nothing wrong with our stuff, and sure to hell no one has stolen it!”
“I think we need to check it anyway. Come on, we all need to stay busy.”
Gabby, still sniffling, LJ and Roche reluctantly forced themselves from their seats and moved to the back of the bus. “Okay Lou what do you want us to do?” Gabby asked sarcastically.
