The Forbidden Tomb

by Chris Kuzneski

  ‘Just keep running,’ he shouted.

  The exit door flew open behind them as the first thug slammed into it. He was a bear of a man, with muscular arms and fists the size of melons. Remarkably, the second goon was even bigger, as if he had been fed steaks and steroids from the time of his hatching – because there was no way in hell anyone had given birth to him.

  He was simply too damn big.

  Simon reached the end of the alley and broke sharply to the right, down the busy street. Sarah followed suit, glancing over her shoulder to check out the thugs, who were blessed with less speed than size. Unfortunately, her joy was short-lived. Even on a dead run, she spotted something troubling: the black sedan from the bar was weaving through traffic and heading toward them at a high rate of speed.

  ‘Shit!’ she screamed as she struggled to grab her gun. It was tucked in her belt underneath her shirt. ‘We have company!’

  ‘More?’ Simon wasn’t happy with the news. He glanced back and saw the car. It was closing fast. ‘Run faster, Sarah!’

  ‘Screw you, Simon!’

  At that moment, she was tempted to ditch Simon and cut her losses. After all, they were chasing him, not her, and the last thing she needed was to get entangled in someone else’s mess. But a split second before she bailed, she heard the blare of a horn followed by a familiar voice.

  ‘Sarah,’ Cobb shouted, ‘get in the damn car!’

  She turned to see Cobb staring back at her from the driver’s seat of the black sedan. The thugs had abandoned it in front of the bar, no more than twenty feet from Cobb’s position across the street. With the keys inside and the motor running, stealing the car required less effort than hailing a cab.

  Plus, there was no need to leave a tip.

  Cobb slowed down just enough for her to open the rear passenger door. This time, it was Sarah who grabbed Simon by the arm. Diving into the back, she pulled him inside the car and on top of her. He reached back and pulled the door shut.

  Meanwhile, Cobb casually checked the side mirror. He saw the goons emerge from the alley and scan the street for their prey.

  They did not look happy.

  ‘You’re good,’ said Cobb as the second thug punched a wall in anger. It didn’t seem to faze him in the least. ‘But stay low for another minute.’

  Sarah nodded as she struggled to catch her breath.

  Cobb remained quiet until he stopped at a red light several blocks away. Only then did he lean back and glance at the duo sprawled on the floor. ‘Hey, Sarah?’

  ‘Yeah, Jack.’

  Cobb glared at her. ‘Who’s your friend?’

  10

  Cobb drove in awkward silence to the far side of town where he found a rough neighborhood to ditch the car. Until he knew more, the location satisfied his two most pressing concerns: it was far from the iron-fisted thugs, and it was nowhere near the hotel where he and Sarah were staying.

  Before making his exit, he wiped the steering wheel and door handles clean of any fingerprints. Then he left the keys in the ignition and calmly walked away.

  ‘Keep moving,’ he told the others.

  Stealing the car wasn’t something Cobb had planned, but rather a necessary evil born of the situation. Now the best thing that could happen would be for someone else to notice the keys in the unlocked car and take it on a joyride of his own. The more distance he could get between themselves and a stolen vehicle, the better.

  ‘Name’s Simon, by the way.’ He thrust his hand toward Cobb as they strolled toward a main road. ‘Thanks for the help back there.’

  ‘Sure,’ Cobb said with a furtive glance.

  Despite their time in the car, this was his first chance to size up the new addition. He was lean and wiry, a few inches shorter than Cobb and at least five years younger. His hair was closely cropped, and stubble covered his face. His look appeared to be one of convenience more than personal style. Nothing about him stood out. Not his size. Not his features. Not his attire. It was as if he had made every effort to blend in.

  Knowing little else about him, Cobb turned to Sarah.

  ‘Jack, this is Simon Dade,’ she said. ‘Simon, this is Jack—’

  Cobb cut her off. ‘Jack is good enough for now.’

  Sarah understood Cobb’s hesitation. He didn’t know Dade, and until he did their relationship would remain casual, so first names were just fine with him.

  She continued her explanation, hoping to allay some of Cobb’s concerns. ‘Jack, Simon is a CIA asset. He’s what they call a “tour guide”.’

  ‘An asset, not an agent?’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘And what does a CIA tour guide do?’ Cobb asked.

  ‘Pretty much the same thing as an actual tour guide,’ she replied, ‘only he knows everything about the places that you’d want to avoid on vacation.’

  Dade nodded. ‘It’s my job to know the city inside and out. Who’s responsible for what, and where, and how? Think of me as your local “big brother”. I can give you intel on every corner of Alexandria.’

  Cobb glanced at him. ‘Does that mean you have surveillance capabilities?’

  Dade grinned. ‘I might have access to a camera or two, sure. What are you trying to find out?’

  ‘Nothing yet. I just want to know your limits.’

  ‘Honestly? I’m not a very good cook. Other than that, I don’t have many.’

  Cobb considered the comment. This early on, he wasn’t sure if he liked Dade’s cockiness or hated it. ‘When did you spot us?’

  ‘The airport,’ he answered.

  ‘Bullshit,’ Sarah said. ‘No way you spotted us that early.’

  ‘Wanna bet?’ Dade pulled his phone from his pocket and found what he was looking for. He showed the picture to Sarah. ‘You’re very photogenic.’

  The image showed Cobb and Sarah exiting their private plane from Florida. Chartered by Papineau under the name of a dummy corporation that was buried under four layers of paperwork, the private plane had delivered them to the Cairo International Airport, nearly three hours from their final destination.

  The arrangement was intended to guarantee their anonymity.

  But it hadn’t worked with the tour guide.

  She glared at Dade. ‘I wasn’t listed on the passenger manifest, and we didn’t fly into Alexandria. How did you . . .?’

  He smiled cockily. ‘In my line of work, it pays to have your bases covered. Alexandria. Cairo. I’ve got connections at all the private terminals and airfields in Egypt. The passengers of every flight are documented and sent to me and a few other associates. We get our information from mechanics in the hangars, controllers on the tarmac, even some of the pilots themselves. Anyone with access.’

  ‘That has to be hundreds of flights a day,’ Sarah replied.

  ‘Try thousands,’ Dade corrected. ‘But trust me: the right picture to the right people is worth the effort.’ He smiled. ‘CIA checks don’t bounce.’

  It was a joke – the CIA would never risk a paper trail – but Sarah understood his point. A couple of hours spent scanning through photos each night was worth the government payday. The CIA was a lot of things, but it certainly wasn’t bankrupt.

  Cobb stopped and stared at Dade. ‘I’d appreciate if you could keep us out of the Agency’s spotlight. Considering what I did for you, I figure it’s the least you can do.’

  ‘No problem, Jack. Your secret’s safe with me.’

  ‘Glad to hear it.’ Cobb turned and started to walk away. ‘Nice meeting you, Mr Dade. Take care of yourself.’

  Dade stared at Sarah for an explanation, but she had nothing to offer.

  ‘Jack,’ Dade called out. ‘I can help you.’

  ‘I’m not interested in your help,’ he shouted back.

  ‘Hey, you reached out to me, remember?’

  Cobb spun around to address Dade. ‘And then I came to your rescue when you brought your troubles with you. Or have you forgotten that?’

  ‘What? Those two
back there?’ Dade waved it off. ‘That was just a disagreement between friends. Nothing more. Besides, we could have easily outrun them. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.’

  ‘Maybe so,’ Cobb snapped, ‘but can you outrun gunfire? Next time you have a disagreement, make sure they’re unarmed.’

  Dade smiled, intrigued. He knew Cobb couldn’t have seen the two men chasing him for more than a few seconds, yet he had still managed to pick out the silhouette of their pistols beneath their clothing. That was an impressive feat.

  ‘Seriously, Jack. It was no big deal.’

  ‘Listen,’ Cobb said calmly, his voice as steady as his gaze, ‘I already spend enough time looking over my own shoulder for trouble. I don’t need to be looking over yours, wondering when Bigfoot and Biggerfoot will show up again.’

  Dade raised his hand. ‘I swear to you, I’ll deal with them. They won’t be a problem. Just give me a chance to help. Tell me what you need to know.’

  Cobb stepped closer. ‘Why are you so interested in helping me? You don’t owe me anything, and I’ll be damned if I want to owe you anything. I saved your life, and in return, you’re going to keep our whereabouts unknown. Or are you going to have a problem with that?’

  ‘With all due respect, Jack, I’m not here for you – I’m here for her.’ He nodded toward Sarah, who was quietly watching the scene unfold. ‘The two of us go way back, and I owe her more than you can imagine. So please, tell me, what can I do to help?’

  Cobb glanced at Sarah. It was up to her and her alone. She knew her history with Dade, and if she wanted to call in a favor, it was her decision to make.

  Sarah nodded without hesitation.

  ‘Okay,’ Cobb said, ‘we’ll call on you when the time is right – but that moment isn’t now. In the meantime, quit following us.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Cobb lowered his voice, so only Dade could hear it. ‘I know you and Sarah have a past, but I’m a man who values his privacy. I can’t stress that enough. Now that I know what you look like, you’ll be on my radar from now on. And if I catch you snooping or lurking around, I won’t hesitate to take you out. Understood?’

  Dade nodded. ‘Understood.’

  ‘And trust me, I run a lot faster than the goons.’

  11

  Cobb didn’t think Sarah would intentionally lead him astray, but he knew there were things she hadn’t yet shared. He was willing to take her word that Dade was a CIA asset, but what aspects of Dade’s life did he conveniently leave out of his résumé?

  Cobb needed to know what Sarah knew.

  And he needed to know now.

  After parting ways with Dade, Cobb and Sarah had returned to their hotel. Initially, Cobb had considered booking rooms somewhere else, but he eventually decided against it. Dade had found them once before, and there was no reason to believe he couldn’t do it again. Changing hotels would only tip off Dade that Cobb didn’t trust him.

  Cobb made his way to the window and pushed it open, allowing what little wind there was to circulate through the space. It still felt like summer in Egypt, and the unseasonably warm air was remarkably dry. The only relief came in the form of cooler sea breezes blowing in from the coast.

  To his left, Cobb caught a glimpse of the Henan Palestine Hotel. It was picturesque, framed beautifully against the backdrop of the Mediterranean. Cobb thought about the air-conditioned rooms and the chilled bottles of water that no doubt waited in the miniature refrigerators. Just because he had spent more nights than he cared to remember with little more than military fatigues and a pile of leaves to make him comfortable didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the high-thread-count linens and down-filled pillows of a five-star establishment.

  Next time, he promised himself.

  For now they would make do with the no-star accommodations of the rundown hotel half a block from the Henan. Not that Cobb was complaining. The bed was clean. The neighborhood was quiet. And the door locked. Cobb understood that he and Sarah could have blended in with the crowd at any of the popular tourist hotels, but the last thing he wanted was an overly eager concierge keeping an eye on their every move.

  Cobb preferred the kind of place where people minded their business.

  He turned from the window and took a seat on the well-worn chair in the corner of the room. ‘What else can you tell me about Simon?’

  Sarah found a spot on the edge of the bed. ‘What you really mean is, “Tell me everything about Simon Dade,” right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I mean.’

  ‘I’ve known Simon for roughly seven years,’ Sarah said.

  ‘Seven?’ Cobb thought back to what Sarah had said earlier, remembering that it had been six years since she had last visited Alexandria.

  ‘The operation we were running wasn’t a hit-and-run. It went on for nearly a year.’

  ‘What can you tell me about the op? I don’t need to hear everything. Just the relevant points and how Simon was involved.’

  ‘What do you know about sex-trafficking?’

  Cobb groaned. From his time overseas, he was all too familiar with the horror stories. ‘It usually starts with an abduction. Young girls are taken off the streets, and some are pulled right from their homes. After a steady diet of mind-numbing drugs, they are shipped across the world and put to work in brothels.’

  ‘Or worse,’ Sarah said. ‘Many are sold at auction to the highest bidder. They spend the rest of their lives being victimized by the scum of the earth, men who feel their wealth gives them the authority to violate another human being with impunity.’

  ‘How do you and Simon fit in?’ Cobb asked.

  ‘Egypt is a major hub in the sex trade. Girls pass through on their way to Europe, Asia, and most importantly – at least as far as the CIA was concerned – America. I was brought in for two reasons. First, we needed to figure out how the brokers were moving the girls in and out of the country and, as you know, borders are what I know best. Second, because of my youthful appearance, I could play a specific role: a sister or a friend searching for a missing girl from back home. You’d be amazed how many people will open their doors to an anxious family member. I was able to go places, hear things, and talk to people that other agents couldn’t.’

  Cobb was familiar with Sarah’s undercover work, having seen her transformation in their previous mission. She had the ability to look any age from eighteen to forty.

  She continued. ‘We recruited Simon to help us determine where the traders were meeting next. He was a local expat who knew the landscape and seemed to have the right connections. Not a player, but someone with his ear to the tracks. As the point man, I was the one who reached out to Simon to bring him on board. Once I made contact, Simon literally walked me around the city. He gave me the guided tour of every place I needed to know and introduced me to everyone I needed to meet.’

  ‘Hence the “tour guide” title,’ Cobb said.

  Sarah stood and started to pace. ‘Other agents assured us that the brokers were gathering in Cairo, so that’s where we concentrated our forces. Simon was the only one who kept insisting that the location was Alexandria. In the end, Simon was correct. Thirty-seven girls got sold here, and we were too late to stop it. We lost them all.’

  She hung her head. ‘When it was over, Simon collected the descriptions from all of his sources and gave us everything he could. He even convinced some of them to sit with forensic artists. They worked for hours, directing sketches from memory. They described accents, mannerisms, and anything else they noticed about the brokers.’

  ‘Did it work?’ Cobb asked.

  ‘We tracked down five of the sellers and six of the buyers, all because of Simon’s efforts. Eleven convictions because of him, yet he still feels indebted to me. He thinks if he had found something concrete about Alexandria instead of just rumors then we could have saved them all. To this day, he still feels responsible for the girls. He’s been hoping to make it up to me ever since.’ />
  ‘He’s been hoping for more than that.’

  Sarah looked at him quizzically. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Come on, Sarah, don’t play dumb. You know damn well that Dade’s interest isn’t just professional. He’s got a crush on you. Even I could see that, and I’m about as romantic as a hemorrhoid.’

  ‘Nice visual,’ she mocked.

  Cobb stared at her, unwilling to let her off the hook.

  ‘What do you want me to say? Of course I know that Simon wants something more. But we aren’t together, and we’re never going to be together. It’s just that when you go through something tragic like we did . . .’

  Sarah didn’t know the right words to finish her thought, but Cobb understood the sentiment. He knew that traumatic events could forge powerful connections.

  ‘Sarah—’

  He was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone.

  ‘You get that,’ she said. ‘I’m going to step out for a bit.’

  Cobb nodded. He could see the toll her story had taken and knew that she would never show her emotions in front of him. If she needed to scream, cry, or punch a wall until her knuckles bled, she would do it in the privacy of her own room.

  Cobb waited until the door closed behind her before he answered the call from Florida. As far as he was concerned, the timing couldn’t have been better. He had sent a simple text to Garcia during the trip back to the hotel that consisted of little more than Dade’s name and a request to ‘find everything’.

  It wasn’t meant as an insult to Sarah, who was able to provide personal details that wouldn’t turn up in a field report. It was more to uncover what had happened to Dade since they had last worked together. Six years was a very long time – particularly in the cutthroat world of espionage. For Cobb to consider Dade as a potential asset, he needed a lot more than a personal reference. He needed a full workup, the type of deep background that could only be done by a computer hacker.

  Thankfully, Cobb had one of those on his team.

  ‘Simon Philip Dade,’ Garcia began. ‘Born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina. Normal middle-class childhood as far I can tell. In fact, there’s nothing noteworthy about his life until his parents died. That’s when things get interesting.’