The Sahara Legacy

by Ernest Dempsey

  Inside, a stone tablet matching Tommy’s half rested in black foam cushioning. It looked much like the one Tommy and Sean possessed, though the symbols on the corners were different.

  Tommy recognized them immediately. They were the other set of symbols he’d seen on his parents’ wall as a child.

  He took out their half of the tablet and laid it down next to Slater’s. The script engraved into the stone lined up perfectly.

  Tommy’s eyes widened as he read the ancient text, running his finger over the smooth stone.

  “Where’d you guys find your half?” Slater asked Sean.

  “Julfar.”

  “The ruins near Dubai?”

  “Yep.”

  “What was that thing doing way down there? The lost oasis city was rumored to be in the Sahara somewhere. Not down here in the Middle East.”

  “We were wondering the same thing. I guess whoever created the tablet thought it best to keep the halves separated.”

  “Lot of good that did them.”

  “It served the purpose for several thousand years,” Tommy said absently as he continued reading.

  Sean noticed something move in the shadows over near the docks. He wasn’t sure, but that didn’t matter. He’d been on full alert since arriving at the harbor. He’d hoped they’d be the only ones there. Another shadow moved quickly into the darkness beside another building.

  Another ambush.

  “Read faster, Tommy,” Sean said with a strong sense of urgency.

  “Why?” he asked. Then he looked up and saw the look on his friend’s face. “Aw, man. Not again.”

  “Yep. They found us. Not sure how, but Dufort’s men found us.”

  “What?” Slater asked. “Who’s Dufort?”

  Hank pulled out his pistol and turned in the direction Sean was facing. “Where are they?”

  “Two in the shadow of that building over there,” Sean said. “Too far for pistols.”

  “Unless they have rifles,” Slater said.

  “Right. Speaking of, you wouldn’t happen to have a few guns in the back of your SUV, would you?”

  Slater’s lips creased. “Yep. I’ve got a few in there. Or you could take this one.” He reached into the other side of his jacket and pulled out an identical weapon to the one in his hand. He held it out for a moment toward Sean and then pulled it back. “You sure I can trust you?”

  “I was wondering the same thing.”

  “Good,” Slater smirked and handed the pistol to Sean.

  Tommy looked up from the tablet. “Got it.”

  “Got it?” Sean asked. “Got what?”

  “The translation.” He looked expectantly at Slater. “Got one of those for me?”

  Slater sighed and bent down to his ankles. He pulled up his pant leg and unfastened a small pistol from a holster wrapped around his shin. He spun the gun around and placed it in Tommy’s palm.

  Tommy frowned. “Seriously? This thing is a pea shooter.”

  “It’s that or nothing,” Slater said.

  A gunshot popped from over behind another stack of crates fifty feet away. Sparks exploded off a metal light fixture and caused the thing to swing back and forth, creaking as it passed from left to right.

  The four men dropped to the ground and scrambled to take cover behind the crates. Another shot rang out from the hill behind them. Sean turned and found the shooter’s silhouette. He squeezed off a shot of his own, sending the man diving for safety near some thick bushes. The plants wouldn’t stop bullets, but they’d make the guy harder to see.

  “They’ve got us pinned down,” Hank said. He poked his weapon around the corner of the nearest box and fired twice at the men across the thoroughfare. “What do you suggest we do?”

  More shots came from two other angles directly across from their position. Now they were taking fire from four points.

  “They’re going to keep hitting us with suppressing fire and slowly close in, squeezing us until they can shoot us from point blank range,” Sean said.

  Tommy popped his head up and fired two shots at the men straight ahead. They dove behind a crane and a forklift but soon returned the volley with their own.

  Rounds splintered the crates and sparked off the wall behind them. The air clouded quickly with acrid gun smoke.

  “So, you’re saying we’re trapped,” Tommy said.

  “Yeah,” Sean answered. “We’re trapped.”

  Chapter 7

  Dubai

  Sean spun around the crate and fired up the hill again at the man in the bushes. He squeezed the trigger three times before ducking back behind the big wooden boxes. The man on the hill yelled in pain. Sean must have hit him with one of his rounds, though he couldn’t be sure which one did the damage, or where the man was hit.

  More bullets poured in from every angle. They grew more frequent, the gun spray more hellish with every passing second.

  “If you’ve got any ideas,” Hank said, “now would be a good time.”

  Sean sat on the ground with his back against a crate. A blue metal door faced him with a rusty chain and a padlock keeping trespassers out. The door led into what he believed to be an old warehouse, not that that would do them any good. They’d be going from one kill box to another. It would only be good for buying them a little time, and that wasn’t even a guarantee.

  Slater popped up and squeezed off two more rounds at the men across the thoroughfare. They sprawled back behind the machines for safety.

  “I have a guy with a boat waiting for us at the dock,” Slater said abruptly. “If we can get to the water, we might be able to lose them in the gulf.”

  “You have a guy in a boat?” Tommy asked. He wasn’t sure whether he should be in disbelief or be furious.

  “Always have a backup plan,” Slater said. “Although I didn’t anticipate every path to the docks being cut off.”

  Sean drew in a deep breath. He stood up, slid over close to the door, and then fired a bullet through the rusty chain. The round ricocheted off the ground and into the ether as the chain fell limp on the door handle.

  Wasting no time, Sean grabbed the handle and yanked the door open. “Hurry up, fellas. Gotta move.”

  Slater and Hank glanced at each other with suspicion, but another round of suppressing fire shook off any trepidation they may have had. The two men scrambled to their feet, keeping low as they hurried into the warehouse.

  “Go, Tommy,” Sean ordered.

  “You go ahead. I’ll cover you.”

  “Not happening.”

  “Fine,” Tommy relented. “This hardly seems like the time to argue.”

  “Agreed.”

  Tommy sprang from his hiding place and rushed through the open door.

  The bullets rained down on Sean’s position. He ducked for cover and let the door close. It slammed shut with a loud bang.

  Sean scurried back over to the crate. He popped up and fired a shot at the men across the way, hitting one in the shoulder and scaring the other back to safety. Then he spun and fired at the men in the other two positions near the crane and forklift. One more rapid turn, and he shot one of his few remaining rounds back at the attackers on the hill.

  He’d only have a second before they resumed their assault. Sean reached up to the top of the crate and grabbed the black case with the tablets inside. He pulled it down as carefully as he could considering the pressure he was under. He closed the lid and locked it down and then rose once more, firing the last of his rounds at the men by the machines.

  Then he slid back over to the door, yanked it open, and dove inside just as another flurry of bullets pinged into the thick metal.

  Inside, the other three were waiting with wide eyes.

  “You got the case,” Tommy said, surprised. “You heard me say I got the translation, right?”

  Sean gave a nod. “Yeah, but I didn’t want those guys to get it.”

  “Good thinking,” Hank said. “Now what?”

  “Run,” Slater said.
“Go to the other end of the building. We can get clear of their line of sight through the other entrance. Once we’re back in the shipping yard, we can lose them in the containers and machinery.”

  “You’ll have to lead us to your guy,” Sean said.

  “That’s the plan. Come on. Follow me.”

  Slater turned and took off at a furious pace. Sean and Tommy didn’t have much trouble keeping up, but Hank lagged behind. He was a little older and not nearly in the shape his younger counterparts were. Even so, bringing up the rear he did his best not to slow down the others. He gasped for air and his legs ached, but he pushed on.

  The others were already at the door. Tommy held it open while the other two ran through and back into the warm evening air.

  “Come on, Hank. They’ll be coming through any second.”

  “I’m…doing…the best I can,” Hank said between breaths.

  “I know.”

  The door at the other end burst open. Tommy raised his weapon and fired three shots as one of the gunmen appeared in the doorway. Sparks flew off the brick wall and concrete floor. He knew he wasn’t going to hit the gunman from that distance, especially with the tiny gun Slater provided. It would have to be enough to scare the men for a moment to buy Tommy and his friends some extra seconds.

  Hank lumbered through the door and out into the fresh air. Slater was already halfway across the thoroughfare when Hank made it out. Sean was in position at the corner of the building, watching the lane in case one of the gunman saw their play and came that way. He loaded a full magazine into his weapon, a second gift from Slater.

  “Go, Hank,” Sean said.

  Hank swallowed and took off again, shuffling his feet at first before finally picking up his knees and trotting to a shipping container where Slater waited patiently.

  “Give me the case,” Tommy said to Sean. “I’ll carry it. You cover me.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing.” Sean set the case down and scooted it to his friend.

  Tommy picked it up by the handle and then clutched it to his chest. “Ready,” he said with a nod.

  Sean acknowledged with a nod of his own. “Go.”

  Tommy darted out of from behind the building and sprinted to where Slater and Hank had been standing just a moment before. The other two were now weaving their way through stacks of crates and shipping containers like rats in a maze.

  Tommy noticed a light flash for a half second out beyond the edge of the docks. That had to be Slater’s boat. He stopped and turned around the steel container’s corner and raised his weapon, pointing it down the thoroughfare where they’d been just a few minutes before.

  He set the case down without looking and motioned for Sean to come across.

  Sean did as instructed, gave one last look around the corner, and then darted from cover. His feet pounded the pavement and his arms swung hard back and forth to help with his balance and momentum.

  Tommy saw his friend drawing near, and then his eyes locked on something else. A gunman came through the open warehouse door and raised his weapon to fire at Sean.

  Tommy shifted his aim, swinging his puny weapon around toward the doorway. Sean charged toward his friend and then saw Tommy pointing the gun in his direction. His eyes went wide. Sean knew Tommy could handle himself with firearms, but for a second it looked like Tommy was aiming the gun straight at him.

  The muzzle erupted in a bright flash and a loud pop.

  Sean dove to the ground as the bullet zipped through the air, whizzing by his head at a dangerously close proximity.

  The round struck the gunman in the chest, and he fell back into the doorway.

  Sean looked back at the downed attacker and then at Tommy. He scrambled to his feet and hurried to the other side of the shipping container where Tommy had retreated a second before.

  “Are you crazy?” Sean asked. “You could have killed me.”

  Tommy rolled his shoulders. “But I didn’t. I knew what I was doing.”

  “I’ll say. You hit that guy from around forty feet away…with that tiny thing.” Sean pointed at Tommy’s pistol.

  “That part was luck. Honestly, I was just trying to scare him.”

  Another gunshot exploded from the warehouse. Sean peeked around the corner and saw a second gunman standing in the doorway with his weapon extended.

  “Get to the boat,” Sean said.

  He ducked back just as the shooter fired again. The bullet pinged off the steel container, narrowly missing the mark.

  Two close calls in less than a minute, he thought. He spun back around and unleashed four retaliatory shots at the gunman, driving the guy back into the warehouse for cover.

  Sean turned back toward the water. Tommy had already taken off and was running by the rows of containers. He made a sharp turn at the last row and disappeared from sight. Sean gave one more look back and then took off after his friend.

  As he neared the water, he heard the gurgling sound of water churning accompanied by a boat motor idling its low, throaty tone.

  Almost there.

  Suddenly, another series of shots echoed through the corridors of containers. Sean stopped just before the last row and waited a second. He leaned around one corner and saw two gunmen rushing toward the boat.

  Tommy and the others would be easy targets, although so would the onrushing gunmen.

  Sean spun back around to the other corner of the steel box and fired down between the rows as one of the attackers passed by. The bullet struck the man in the leg and dropped him to the ground. The wounded guy managed to roll out of the way before Sean could hit him with another round.

  The man’s partner turned his head as he heard the shot ring out and ducked for cover behind the other end of the container. Sean knew he’d drawn attention. The second guy would no doubt be coming for him.

  Sean took quick inventory of his surroundings. One row of containers was stacked two high. The row where the gunman disappeared only had one. Sean crept halfway down the row, and then stuffed his gun in his belt. Always one to take the high ground in a fight, he jumped up and grabbed on to the edge of the steel container. His shoulders, back, and biceps strained against gravity, and he hauled himself up over the lip to the top.

  The gunman had the same idea, and both men rolled to a stop almost nose to nose on the ribbed surface.

  Sean reacted first, reaching for his gun to get off the point-blank kill shot. The gunman was about to do the same but saw Sean’s move so instead swung his leg around and kicked Sean’s hand. The hard tip of the man’s shoe struck the bridge of Sean’s hand and sent a surge of dull pain through the bone and up his arm. He shrank back for a second and then saw the gunman reaching for his own weapon.

  Sean sprang to a crouching stance and returned the favor with a swift kick of his own, striking the man’s hand and then swinging his other leg at the guy’s face. Sean’s boot tip sank into the gunman’s cheek and snapped his head sideways, but the guy wasn’t done yet.

  Dazed but not done, he rolled over onto his side and recovered quickly, pushed himself up, and shifted into a fighting stance.

  Sean saw a thirty-foot cabin cruiser less than a hundred feet away. Tommy and the others were climbing on board.

  With his friends safely on the boat, Sean refocused on the man inching his way toward him. Sean’s opponent was clearly sizing him up, trying to figure the best line of attack.

  Sean didn’t give him the chance to strike first. He turned sideways and raised his hands. His feet shifted suddenly, and the gunman shuffled backward. Sean saw the slight retreat and used it to his advantage. His feet crossed one over the other, and then he swung his right foot around in a fake roundhouse kick.

  The mercenary reacted predictably, twisting his body and swiping his left hand down to deflect Sean’s foot.

  Sean dropped his right leg, cutting the kick short and planting his foot on the ground. The move was too fast for the enemy to realize what happened. Sean kicked his left leg aroun
d, driving it into the man’s abdomen. The guy doubled over as Sean spun toward him. He drove his fist into the henchman’s jaw with a right, then a left, and another right.

  The man stumbled backward, closer and closer to the container’s edge. He felt his heels touching nothing but air and immediately shifted his weight forward to keep from tipping over.

  Sean went for the finishing blow and swung his right arm around in a dramatic, wide arc. The gunman made a last-ditch effort and swung both arms around, partly to keep his balance and partly to fight off Sean’s attack.

  He blocked the right hook and then a jab before countering with a jab of his own, striking Sean in the lip. The blow knocked the American back a step. Unfortunately for the mercenary, it only made Sean’s furious attack even more aggressive.

  Sean pressed forward again. The man deflected a jab, but Sean used the block to grab the guy’s forearm with his other hand and pull him into an elbow. The combined momentum of the man’s forward movement with the sudden swing drove his nose squarely into bone.

  The gunman staggered backward. The hazy world spun in his eyes. His legs weakened, suddenly feeling heavy and unstable. He felt a warm breeze roll in from the gulf, washing over his back.

  Sean took two fast steps forward and launched into the air. He extended his foot and struck the man in the chest. The blow from Sean’s boot sent the man flying over the container’s edge and toward the next metal box.

  The back of the henchman’s head struck the opposing edge with a sickening crack. The sudden impact flipped him forward to the pavement below where he landed on his face.

  Sean wasted no time. He scurried to the other side of the container, grabbed his weapon, and jumped down to where the mercenary’s lifeless body lay prostrate on the ground.

  Sean nudged the guy’s head with his boot, making sure he was either dead or unconscious. When the man didn’t move, Sean darted over to the other end of the container, looked around the corner, and then sprinted to the boat.

  The men were unhooking the moorings when they saw Sean come around the pier’s gate and onto the dock.