Heart of the Gods
Page 13
If Ryan wasn’t still waiting outside the door…
Looking at her in the short nightgown and then at the wreckage of the room, Ky shook his head and went to answer the door. He’d deal with the repercussions of Raissa’s presence in his rooms if he had to, and he likely would since the commotion would have roused the other guests.
“Are you all right, Professor?” Ryan demanded as he stepped into the room, looked around.
“I’m fine,” Ky said. “I had…unwelcome visitors.”
“Unwelcome visitors,” Ryan said in alarm. “What did they want?”
“The papyrus,” Ky said as they entered the main room of his suite.
No one was there. Raissa was gone, the curtains to the balcony fluttered in the breeze.
Just the thought of it made him shudder, they were ten stories up, but there’d been no cry.
A familiar voice from the hall said, “Professor?”
Komi, worried, with John on his heels.
And then Raissa, dressed now in the blue sundress he’d bought her in the hotel gift shop just that afternoon. It was oddly surreal.
The dress looked as lovely on her as he thought it might, and the color made her eyes seem to glow. He remembered her simple surprise and pleasure when he’d given it to her, the almost shy, wistful way she’d taken it.
Still, he found he preferred the little white cotton nightgown…and what was beneath it.
“What’s going on?” she asked, guilelessly.
Only her eyes betrayed her and the quick faint smile when theirs met.
The others were quick to fill her in.
“The question is,” Ryan said, as they set the room to rights again, “what do we do about it?”
Ky shook his head with a frown. “Deal with the police when they get here, without mentioning the papyrus or they’re liable to confiscate them as evidence. It was a simple attempt at robbery, the thieves thought I might have valuables since I’m an archaeologist.”
“What do they want with the papyrus?” Ryan asked. “Don’t they know we took pictures of them? That’s stupid.”
It was standard procedure after all.
Ky had been wondering the same thing. Taking the papyrus would accomplish nothing unless you eliminated all the other connections to it, including and especially the people. They’d come armed and prepared to do damage. The only way to completely secure the information on the papyrus would have been to kill everyone. He was convinced they’d been willing to kill Raissa by shooting her through the door.
With the papyrus and the shards at the Museum, safe behind its security and the police alerted, hopefully they would all be safe now.
There was a knock at the door that somehow managed to sound very official.
Ky sighed. It was going to be a long night.
Chapter Fifteen
To his surprise, Ky found his ribs didn’t hurt quite as much as he thought they would come morning. Nor was he as stiff as he expected. None of them had felt much like sleeping after what happened, even if they’d had time for it once the police were through with them. The best any of them managed was an hour or two.
After breakfast Ky sent John to secure any equipment they didn’t have that they might need for nights in the desert and Komi to arrange for it all to be delivered to the dig site.
While they took care of those details, he, Raissa and Ryan returned to the Egyptian Museum.
As always Tareq was effusive, warm…and had coffee waiting for them, strong, rich Egyptian coffee.
Raissa’s eyes lit up at the smell and she pounced on the cup with glee, rolling her eyes and giving a sigh of pleasure at the first sip.
“A woman after my own heart,” Tareq said with a smile, “although lately I’ve had to cut back a little.” He tapped a fist against his chest and made a face. “Heartburn, you see.”
There was a pause as he frowned slightly, steepling his hands and tapping them against his chin.
“You should know it has come to my attention that others are now also looking for the Tomb, my friend, Ky. Some very passionate people.”
After the previous night that wasn’t news to any of them but Tareq. Ky didn’t need to ask how they’d learned of the Tomb, it was written on the walls preserved in the Hieroglyphics room above his head but it had been considered just another myth.
Until now.
Why the sudden interest? Or had his search somehow triggered the others?
A glance passed between the three of them, himself, Ryan and Raissa and Ky frowned.
“Who else is looking?” Ky asked seeing the worry in Tareq’s eyes. He remembered Tareq’s comment the night before about Zimmer’s associates. “What have you heard?”
In light of the incident Tareq’s concern was more than justified. Maybe now they would get some idea of what they were up against.
Tareq shook his head. “These are troubled times, Ky, as you know. Passions are running high on many fronts, certainly since the Americans invaded Iraq. The growing strength of religious conservatism across the world is also disturbing. We’ve seen the results of it across the globe, and not just 9/11, but London, Spain. I’ve heard rumors…”
For a moment Tareq lowered his head, tapping his steepled fingers against his lips, considering what he was about to say.
Ky waited.
“There are people, like those who fund Zimmer, who want to find the Tomb not for the history of it but for what they think it contains…”
“The Heart of the Gods, the key to the Tomb,” Ky said tightly, “and the Horn of the Djinn.”
“Precisely,” Tareq said. “The Heart, because if it exists, it will be one of the largest rubies in the world. It would be priceless, although they would still manage somehow to put a price on it. And we cannot forget all of the gold. If the rumors are true and this is the rare untouched tomb, there would be a great deal of gold as well. Greed drives many.”
He sighed.
“Then there is the Horn. If the Wall is correct, it is rumored to control the Djinn, or Genie as Americans know them. Who aren’t pretty young blondes like on American TV.”
He gave a look to Ryan, who grinned and shrugged.
“A little before my time, Doc.”
It was his only concession to Tareq’s title.
Tareq smiled a little.
“According to some readings of the Old Testament and Hebrew writings, Solomon ‘persuaded’ the Djinn to help him raise the Temple. In Islam, they are spirits of fire created by Allah and possessing free will as men do. Some believe there are good Djinn and bad Djinn, seeing the good Djinn somewhat as Christians do guardian angels. Of course, I’m vastly oversimplifying but for our purposes, it’s close enough.”
He hesitated a moment, then continued.
“Those funding Zimmer are a fundamentalist branch of some version of Christianity. What they want with the Horn I’m not quite sure. But, they are there. It’s a fairly secretive organization that reminds me of the rumors of what Masons were supposed to be and weren’t. These are.”
“There are also extremists of the other variety,” he said with a sigh of resignation, “who see the Horn as a symbol, while others truly believe it has the power to control the Djinn. It’s becoming imperative that you, or someone like you, find the Tomb so it can be preserved and protected from those who would misuse what lies within it.”
He sighed, worriedly. “But that puts you, my friend Ky, right in the middle, on the firing line as it were…”
They’d been friends many years.
Ky let out a breath. “Tareq, it already has. We’ve had a few incidents.”
Alarmed, Tareq looked at him. “How serious?”
“Serious enough.”
He explained quickly. There wasn’t any real need to go into details. Tareq and Ky had worked on a number of digs in various parts of the Middle East and this wasn’t the first time there had been trouble. Tareq knew Ky’s capabilities as well as Ky knew his.
St
ill.
“The dig site is in a very dangerous part of the world, Ky, a very volatile part of the world, as you very well know. It’s also very isolated. Be careful. Be very careful.”
Ky looked at his old friend, seeing the troubled look in his eyes.
“I will.”
It wasn’t a warning he took lightly. Tareq wasn’t one to give out such concern lightly either.
The kidnapping of the German tourists in the region years before had been vicious, leaving one dead. There had been several other nasty incidents since, not to mention their own encounter in the souk. And the attack of the previous night.
“All right,” Tareq said, clapping his hands and rubbing them together briskly. “Enough of that, it’s depressing. Instead let’s turn to these papyri that you bring me and this very interesting reinterpretation of Mr. Brunner’s work. What astonishes me is you found them at all.”
Raissa said, softly, “Given how much effort the ancient Egyptians put into concealing the whereabouts of their tombs and the amount of information in these documents, I would guess the architect either hid them to keep the information from falling into the wrong hands or to hide the fact he was putting so much down on paper. Either something happened to prevent him from returning or he simply forgot he’d hidden them there.”
“To all appearances the fort was abandoned quickly,” Ky added, “that might explain why he wasn’t able to come back for them.”
“Reasonable,” Tareq said, “and our good luck. Right, my friend, Ky?”
With a grin, Ky nodded.
They spent the rest of the afternoon debating the different interpretations of the various papyrus, tablets and text.
Which put Raissa, to her amusement, between Ky and Tareq as they debated points and various interpretations.
Tareq pulled more papyri from the Museum’s vaults, their discussion bringing to mind other papyrus, translations of other documents. In the context of the new information they were getting valuable information from them, hints at other landmarks and routes. Copies of documents littered the office. It was impossible even for Raissa not to get excited. Every step brought them a little bit closer.
“Excuse me, Professor,” Komi said from the doorway in his usual halting, diffident way.
“Come on in, Komi,” Ky said, smiling.
Had it gotten that late? He hadn’t expected Komi until late in the afternoon, knowing how such things went. He glanced at his watch in surprise.
“Don’t worry, you’re not interrupting anything important.”
“Everything is arranged, Professor,” Komi said, bobbing his head a little to all of them in greeting and smiling. “Drivers will take all of the equipment to the dig site, with guards to assure it will all be there when we arrive.”
“Good,” Ky said, “that’s one less problem to worry about. Thank you, Komi.”
With another smile, Komi backed into a corner to lean against a wall and wait as the debate resumed with Tareq occasionally sending out for other references, until Tareq glanced at the clock and saw the time.
“We’ll have to resume our discussion tomorrow as the Museum closes shortly and I have other obligations this evening,” Tareq said, holding up a hand to Ky in amusement to curb his impatience. “We have all week, my friend. Life is not all papyrus, mummies and dust. You have a lovely young woman here. You should show her Cairo.”
He eyed Raissa appreciatively.
To Ky’s astonishment, Raissa blushed, shaking her head at Tareq’s blatant flirtation.
“Exactly,” Tareq said, smiling at her discomfort. “Go out to dinner, have a pleasant evening in good company. We’ll start again tomorrow in the morning. There is time, Ky, to enjoy the finer things in life as well. Shall I meet you at your hotel? Are you staying at the same place you usually do?”
“Yes,” he said, laughing as Tareq stood to come around the desk and clap him on the shoulder. “We’re staying at the usual hotel.”
“Good,” Tareq said.
He escorted them to the main hall where the last of the tourists were being guided out by a few of the guards before the men split up to make their rounds through the various halls to secure the doors in preparation for locking the museum down.
It surprised Ky to realize how late it had gotten.
The last of the tourists filed out through the main doors.
With a nod of respect to Tareq the guards disappeared down the hallways and up the stairs to finish their sweep to make certain no one was left.
“There is much of Cairo you should see,” Tareq said, lifting Raissa’s hand to kiss the back of it. “With one who can show it to you properly.”
She rolled her eyes in amusement but color suffused her face.
He looked at Ky sternly. “Take her to a nice restaurant, Ky, not the hotel.”
Before Ky could answer the front doors to the Museum slammed open with a crash of metal and glass and men rushed into the entryway.
Gunshots rang out through the building.
A burst of automatic weapon fire into the ceiling sent plaster raining down. It seemed to be a signal.
More men rushed through the front entry doors behind the first while others seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, some racing past the last of the tourists out on the mall, who looked at them, startled, as the black-clothed men passed by them. Others appeared from hallways that led to restrooms and storage closets where they’d hidden long enough for the guards to escort the tourists out.
Now they exploded out of hiding.
There were more than two dozen of them, their leader the one firing his weapon into the ceiling, looking at those in the center of the room.
Ky, Tareq, Raissa, Komi and Ryan.
Instinctively everyone ducked or flinched and then they froze.
All of the invaders were masked and armed. There wasn’t anything remotely close at hand that Ky could use as a weapon. He was too far away from the men to do anything effective, especially against automatic weapons.
Pointing his gun at Ky and Tareq, the leader snapped, “We want everything you have on the Tomb of the Djinn. You will give it to us or we will start shooting…if you doubt our purpose…”
He swiveled his gun toward Komi, leveled it.
Komi’s eyes widened in shock and horror.
It was clear to everyone in that moment that in the next second he would open fire and Komi would die as proof of their intent.
Raissa shot out an arm to push Komi aside and away from danger.
Everything was so clear and sharp, as it always was at such moments and it all seemed to happen so slowly…and so quickly.
Her hair swirled in the late afternoon sunlight that speared through the windows as she spun to face the attackers. It caught the light, reflected it, brilliantly. Light cascaded over it in a shimmer of gold.
Ky was stunned by the inevitability of it, by the calmness, the acceptance, in her expression as she turned to face the men who had stormed the room.
He saw what was about to happen and knew he couldn’t stop it even as he tried, knowing he couldn’t reach either of them in time.
There was no time to react, not enough time to do anything.
In the large space the sound of the gunshots echoed, three in rapid succession, as professional killers were trained to do.
Halting Ky where he stood. It was too late.
A double-tap, body shots, a more sure target, with the third to be sure.
They struck Raissa squarely in the chest, drove her back a step with each impact.
Ky saw the shock of it on her beautiful face. Her hand went to her chest in near disbelief as she registered what had happened, as the pain struck and was reflected in her eyes. For a moment she looked down, stared at the blood on her fingers in shock, spread them as she looked at them almost with incomprehension. Then she looked at her chest. At the neat holes there.
Even as he absorbed the knowledge of the loss of her, of the promise of whatever had been
growing between them he waited for her to fall. A burst of grief went through him, and the beginnings of a cold rage.
That moment of silence seemed to stretch forever but probably lasted for only a few brief seconds. Moments the leader of the assassins allowed, to give them the time to absorb what had happened, what had been done, so they would understand just serious he was and that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill.
It had happened so sudden, so unexpectedly. It was like being punched hard in the chest, one, two, three times.
Raissa was caught completely off guard. She could only stare in disbelief, looking at her own blood on her hand.
For a moment she stared, uncomprehending, at the three holes so neatly centered in her chest.
Comprehension dawned.
They’d shot her.
No matter how or what she tried this couldn’t be explained away by clever words, some sleight of hand, some trick of time and place.
Anger came suddenly, instantly, her rage fierce as a grief and loss rushed through her like fire.
She lifted her eyes, looked at the one who had done it.
A coldness washed over her. Fury flashed through her like lightning, not hot, but cold, calculated, considered. She measured distances to her quarry as rage turned her vision red.
Chapter Sixteen
The air in the antechamber suddenly crackled like lightning before a storm as Raissa’s head snapped up and around to face the leader of the terrorists, the one who had shot her. Her blue eyes blazed with fury. Literally blazed, they seemed to leave a trail of brightness in the growing darkness. She flung her arms out. With a snap of her wrists swords appeared in each hand. She grasped them. Her long hair swirled around her, lifting as if a great wind had caught it, to catch the last of the sunlight in the flying tresses like a halo around her head and shoulders.
Ky stood frozen.
That raging fury limned every lovely line of her body.
As implacable as a lion she stalked toward those that had attacked them. A gesture, a snap of her wrists and suddenly there were swords in her hands. They had appeared out of nowhere, suddenly they were just there. He kept seeing that.