“How’s that?”
“We possess the only vehicles, and they leave with us. You may walk across the Nubian Desert of course, this after all is, or rather was, a free country.”
Several of his men chuckled, then one pointed. They all turned to see the men who had left in pursuit of the SAS guard returning, empty handed. There was a quick exchange in Arabic, and Laura translated under her breath.
“They got away.”
It was Reading who quietly asked the question on all their minds. “But where did they go? Were they saving their own hides, or positioning to save ours?”
The colonel returned.
“What is your decision?”
Laura looked from man to man, each nodding in turn, then looked at the colonel.
“We stay, but this is my camp, and our dig site has to be respected.”
“Of course.”
“And when this is all over, we are allowed to document the find.”
“Of that, I can make no promises.”
Laura frowned.
“We’ll discuss it later.”
The man bowed slightly, and if he were wearing traditional Bedouin robes, Acton could picture him flaring them slightly in respect. Laura turned to Acton.
“Recommendations?”
“Hide the find, set up a decoy, fortify the camp, kill anything that tries to get past us, hope our security returns and Reading’s friend Rahim gets here sooner rather than later.”
Laura nodded, then looked at the gathered men.
“Then let’s do it.”
And with those words, the final battle for Cleopatra and Antony’s resting place was to begin.
Nubian Desert, Egypt, Egyptian Army Checkpoint
Terrence nearly leapt at the phone as it vibrated. Taking a deep breath, he hit the button to take the call as everyone gathered around to hear.
“Terrence here.”
“Terrence, it’s Professor Palmer. Are you okay?”
“Are we okay?” asked Terrence, incredulity left unhidden. “Of course we’re okay, are you okay?”
“We are. Where are you?”
“We’re at some sort of military checkpoint. Professor, everyone here is dead!”
“Hey!” piped up the civilian bystander they had found.
“Dead? What happened?”
“Some sort of ambush would be my guess. Professor, we saw a second set of vehicles heading your way, army. They didn’t look friendly.”
“We’ve heard.”
“What are you going to do? Will the army evacuate you?”
“They’re not the army.”
“Who? The first group or second?”
“Both from what I understand.” There was a pause. “Listen, the first group claim to be some sort of brotherhood sworn to protect the tomb of Cleopatra. Now that they know about the second group, probably on their way here to destroy the tomb, they’ve decided to stay and defend the site.”
“What about you and the others?”
“We have no choice but to stay.”
“Nonsense!” cried Terrence. “Evacuate with one of their vehicles, get out of their while you can.”
“Not possible. They won’t give us one of their vehicles.” There was a pause. “Listen, Terrence. Don’t worry about us. Your one job is to get those students to safety. We’ll take care of ourselves.”
Terrence didn’t say anything.
“Understood?”
“Understood,” mumbled Terrence.
“Okay, we’ll check back within thirty minutes. Good luck.”
“Good luck,” said Terrence, the conversation already ended. He slipped the phone in his pocket, then marched over to a jeep, one of its rear tires flat, several holes torn though the upholstery. He looked and smiled when he spotted the keys in the ignition. He climbed inside and had the engine purring moments later.
“I’m going to change this tire and go back to the camp, see if I can get the others out. You lot take the trucks and return to Cairo. We’ll reunite as soon as we can.”
“But you’ll get yourself killed!” cried Stephen. “We should stick together; do what the professor said!”
There were nods of agreement.
Terrence shook his head. “No, they have no transportation. If we had a third vehicle, they would be with us now.” He pointed at the jeep. “We now have a third vehicle. I’ll go in the back way, and with a little luck, I’ll be able to get to the camp, load our people in, and get out.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Terrence looked at Jenny.
“Not bloody likely.”
“If you go, I go. Otherwise, you’re going nowhere.”
Terrence looked at her, frowning. But inside, he was jubilant. He was terrified, and having someone with him to share the fear would make his idiotic decision easier to live with.
“Fine. Let’s get moving then.”
USS Arleigh Burke, Flight Deck
Dawson pushed the last of his men aboard the MH-60S Knighthawk helicopter and was about to climb aboard when a figure ran toward them, dressed head to toe in black.
Kane!
“Care for some company?” asked Kane as he came to a halt at the side door of the helicopter.
Dawson shrugged his shoulders, smiling.
“My orders say nothing about giving lifts to those who don’t exist, so why the hell not?”
Kane grinned and jumped aboard, the parachute he was sporting not going unnoticed by Dawson. Dawson climbed aboard, closing the door, then signaling the pilot to lift off.
Dawson hit the parachute with his hand.
“Don’t trust our flight crew?”
“Not for a second!”
Kane settled back and closed his eyes, as Dawson gave the mission brief.
“We have an archeological team of mostly British nationals located in southern Egypt. I think you’re familiar with a few of them.”
Atlas laughed. “Don’t tell me. Our two favorite professors?”
Dawson nodded.
“It would have been kinder if we had killed them in London. The shit they’ve been through since can’t have been worth it.”
There was a round of laughter, and Dawson cut it off with a wave of his hand over his throat.
“Since my DeLorean is in the shop, changing history isn’t an option, so we’re going in to provide security until an evac team arrives later tonight.”
“ETA?” asked Niner.
“Three hours.”
“Why the eagerness to get out?”
“They just discovered Cleopatra’s tomb, probably the biggest archeological find of all time, and one of the biggest icons in ancient Egyptian history, on the same damned day a group of nutbars are destroying icons around the world.”
“Ahhh, I see,” said Niner in an exaggerated oriental accent, his own English perfect mid-West. “You want I should use brain more, mouth less.”
Atlas elbowed him, his massive bulk knocking Niner into the lap of Spock who shoved Niner’s head back at Atlas, Stooges style.
“Settle in, gentlemen. It’ll be a long ride with a couple of midair refuelings. Let’s just hope we get there in time.”
Dawson settled back, looking across at Kane, who appeared to already be in a heavy sleep.
A spy with a clear conscience?
Dawson closed his eyes to rest, his conscience instead replaying the assault from earlier on the back of his eyelids.
I definitely need a vacation.
Nubian Desert, Egypt, Three miles from University College London Dig Site
Terrence pulled around the bend, almost inching his way, terrified he might run into the back of one of the trucks they had seen earlier. It had been the same routine for the entire return trip. Inch around the blind corners, then race forward when they had a clear line of sight. It was nerve-racking. It was slow.
It had kept them alive so far.
But for all he knew, the “bad guys” were already at the dig, killing ev
eryone.
He pressed a little harder on the accelerator then slammed his breaks on as Jenny screamed, a man having stepped out from behind a large boulder, a weapon pointed directly at their windshield. As the vehicle skidded to a halt, two more men appeared, rushing toward the jeep before Terrence could react. Terrence pushed on the accelerator and was about to pop the clutch when a gun barrel was pressed against his temple.
“Please shut off the engine, Mr. Mitchell.”
Terrence’s eyebrows shot up as he did what he was told. With the engine quiet, the gun was removed from his head, and his head spun around to see Colonel Leather staring down at him, weapon now draped across his chest.
“What are you doing here?” asked Leather, the frown that seemed permanently etched on his face a little deeper than Terrence remembered.
“We’re coming to rescue you guys!”
As soon as it was out of Terrence’s mouth he regretted it. It sounded as stupid as it was futile, and his shoulders sank. And Leather’s frown seemed to ease slightly but never quite make it into a smile.
The others however had no problem chuckling.
“Hey, he’s here, isn’t he?” snapped Jenny, putting her arm around Terrence’s shoulders.
This elicited the hint of a smile from half of Leather’s mouth.
“Indeed he is.” He twirled his hand around his head and jumped in the back of the jeep. “We’ve got wheels, gents.” The rest piled in or jumped on the back bumper. Leather pointed ahead, between the front seats. “Half a mile ahead, take a left. We’ll come around the back of the camp.”
Terrence started the engine and they jerked forward, his nerves getting the better of his shifting abilities, then after one false start, they were moving again.
“What are you doing here?” asked Jenny. “Why aren’t you at the camp with the others?”
“Once we knew they weren’t Egyptian Army, we beat it, holed up in a blind I had set up a few weeks ago, then when the coast was clear, left one sniper and made our way to the road to scout it. There’s a second set of troops just ahead, about one mile, just sitting there. We’re not sure if they’re with the first group that arrived or not.”
“I don’t think they are,” said Terrence as he turned off the road as indicated by Leather. “We saw two distinct groups of trucks heading toward the dig site, and came upon an army checkpoint where everyone had been killed.”
“So we have at least one group of hostiles, perhaps two.”
“Red Leader, this is Red Two, come in, over.”
Leather grabbed the mike off his hip and activated it.
“Red Two, Red Leader, go ahead, over.”
“An unknown hostile showed up, was taken out by the previous arrivals, and now it appears it’s all hugs and kisses between our people and the new arrivals. They’re working together to fortify the camp by the looks of it, over.”
“Interesting,” muttered Leather. He activated his mike. “Hold position, ETA five minutes, over and out.”
“So what does that mean?” asked Terrence as they rounded a rock outcropping, revealing a smooth level surface devoid of any hiding places for about one mile. He pressed a little harder on the accelerator.
“It means that things aren’t exactly as they seem.”
Jenny turned to look at Leather.
“Is that good?”
Terrence watched Leather shrug in the rearview mirror.
“Rarely.”
Nubian Desert, Egypt, Three miles from University College London Dig Site
Imam Khalil tried to hide his impatience. He knew his men were beginning to wonder why they were waiting, and why they hadn’t simply attacked like they had at the checkpoint. The answer was something he wasn’t proud of.
He was never supposed to be here.
It was a rash decision to come with his men, for it put him at risk. The original mission these men were supposed to be on was an attack on the pyramids, something with a very small likelihood of success. But the Cleopatra mission? There was every indication they could succeed, and some of them would survive, as there was no one left around to kill, or be killed by, once finished with the students and their teachers.
An easy, survivable attack, despite it being a suicide mission, like all the others. If anyone were to survive the initial attack, their orders were simple.
Keep killing until killed.
When they had encountered the checkpoint, its elimination was a routine matter. They outnumbered the outpost three to one, and had the element of surprise. Minimal risk, so he had simply remained in his truck, and prayed he wasn’t hit by a stray bullet.
But when they neared their final destination, he realized what they were walking into was a complete unknown. What if the army had arrived first? What if they had security? Police? He had ordered the convoy to halt, and sent a man ahead to perform a recon.
Which led to the unfortunate discovery they had no communications equipment.
But then no one was supposed to survive, and no coordination should be needed. This was a simple head on assault. Kill everything in sight.
When word had returned of approximately two dozen army personnel, his heart had leapt into his throat. His initial instinct was to order the convoy back to Cairo, but he could think of no way to actually give the order without losing face.
But now with their recon volunteer overdue, and dusk beginning to fall, a decision had to be made, and there was only one decision that could be made.
He barked his order at the driver, and the engine fired up to cheers from the back.
Khalil closed his eyes, and prayed to Allah he survived the rest of the day.
Nubian Desert, Egypt, University College London Dig Site
Laura had been hidden away in their tent, furiously working on her computer from the moment they had decided to make a stand. She wasn’t self-centered enough to believe she could do the work the men outside were doing. She simply wasn’t physically strong enough. And she had no problem with that.
So she did something else that she felt was completely necessary, then forced each of her three remaining comrades to do the same.
Write a letter home.
Chaney took less than five minutes, but emerged from the tent teary eyed, Reading took even less time, his face stoic but flushed. James took longer, as she expected, he being so close to his parents, and if she knew him, he’d write her a letter, and his students.
He showed no shame of having red eyes when he emerged fifteen minutes later.
Hers had flowed freely.
She compressed the letters, along with some housekeeping matters for the museum and the school, then sent them via satellite to her email account.
She still held out hope that their attackers, if that’s what they even were, may change their minds and turn around when they found themselves facing dozens of men, all armed, all equally willing to die, rather than a bunch of students and their teachers.
But her experience with fanatics told her otherwise.
She sighed and snapped the laptop shut, locking it in its metal case, then wiped the tears from her eyes as she stepped outside. Dusk had fallen. She could see a group of men working on the south ridge where the tomb had been found, the pulley system gone, and to the north, on another ridge, she saw James, Reading and Chaney returning, the decoy complete.
The Brotherhood had positioned themselves in the prepared positions her security team had previously set up, expanding several of them and positioning one of the trucks to the rear of the camp as a final fallback position and escape route, which she was certain none of the new arrivals would make use of if it truly were a suicide mission.
The gnashing of gears and the sound of an engine echoing across the desert had her frozen in place for a moment, then rushing toward the secure position near the center of the camp she, James, Reading and Chaney would occupy, their weapons already in place with plenty of ammo.
Her weapon readied, she pulled out the satellite pho
ne as the headlights of the first truck sliced through the encroaching darkness.
Nubian Desert, Egypt, Seventy miles from University College London Dig Site
Stephen, unlike Terrence, had wasted no time in continuing their journey. He felt bad for Terrence, even a little proud of the bastard. His going off to “fight” certainly seemed completely out of character for the egghead, and it had attracted the gorgeous Jenny.
Perhaps that’s why he was mad.
He was jealous.
He had had his eye on her for over a year, and his advances had been rebuffed, though politely. She was beautiful, smart, and apparently smitten with Terrence.
Smitten with Terrence!
It was ridiculous.
He growled.
“You okay?”
It was Naomi that asked, her perch in the passenger seat once occupied by Jenny giving her full view of the emotions playing over his face.
He gave her a quick glance, his eyes glued to the darkening road, the headlights doing little at this time of the evening.
“Just frustrated at the situation, that’s all.”
“Worried about Jenny?”
Am I that obvious? And shouldn’t I be worried about her, rather than mad at Terrence?
“Worried about everybody. I just want to get us all to Cairo, then back to London. All of us. What Terrence did was stupid and selfish, and now he’s got Jenny mixed up in his foolhardiness.”
“It was her choice.” Naomi slid closer and patted him on his right hand, his fingers sore from the constant grip. “They’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. You’ll see.”
She beamed him a smile that could melt some things and harden others, though Stephen wasn’t certain he was reading her signals correctly. Most likely her smile was innocent, and he was just horny from three months in the desert without a moment of privacy to “read a magazine”.
Damn I’m pent up!
The phone ringing in his pocket made him jump and swerve slightly on the road, protests from the back seat forcing him to apologize. He fished out the phone as he pulled over to the side of the road, not willing to risk talking and driving.
The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers) Page 18
