“The pyramids,” Sean explained, “are thought to be laid out in a formation that matches the constellations.”
“Exactly,” Tommy said. “The three big pyramids near Giza are believed to be an earthly match for the three celestial bodies of Orion’s belt.”
“Really?” Hank said, sounding impressed. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Indeed. The pyramids are an incredible tribute to the engineering and technological capabilities of the ancient Egyptians. Scientists and archaeologists still aren’t certain what other secrets those structures may hold.”
“I thought they were just tombs for the pharaohs,” Hank said.
“That’s what many of the original theories suggested. Now, we’re not so sure. It’s clear there is a connection between the constellations and their designs. You can see it with their temples, cities, monuments, and other engineering works. Most of the great pharaohs were either buried in the Valley of the Kings or in their own tombs. That leaves the reason behind the pyramids to be a mystery.”
“Fascinating stuff,” Hank said. “I had no idea.” He paused for a second and then looked back down at the tablet. “What about the other stones?” he asked. “Does it say where we can find them?”
Tommy shook his head. “It only gives vague information about them, referring to the other three corners of the land.” He pointed to a specific collection of words and tapped on it with his finger. “This is what’s really got me, though. There are some things missing from this part. See where the stone is blank?”
Sean and Hank nodded.
“I might be wrong, but it could be that when we find the first stone, we will also find what goes here.”
“Why do you think that?” Sean asked.
“Because it says that the second stone can be found…and then there’s nothing. It says that about the third and fourth stones as well.”
“So, we have to find the first one to get to the second and so on,” Hank whispered.
“Right. No shortcuts.”
“Which means we could be in for a long haul,” Sean said. “Would be nice to have some faster transportation. When we get to the mainland, I’ll make a call.”
He cut himself off abruptly. When he spoke again, his tone was hushed. “Do you hear that?”
The other two looked around and listened.
They nodded.
Another boat was approaching.
Chapter 9
The Persian Gulf
Sean climbed back up to the deck and looked out across the gently rolling waters of the gulf.
At first he didn’t see anything. As his eyes readjusted to the darkness, he made out the silhouette of a small boat off the starboard side. He could see red lights through the windshield, but it was difficult to make out any further details.
Sean ducked his head back down below. “We’ve got company.”
Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Dufort?”
Sean shook his head once to the side. “I doubt it. Out in this huge body of water, we could be anywhere. If he’s not tracking us, and I would hope he’s not, I’d say it’s more likely other smugglers.”
“Sid said they don’t usually cross paths out here,” Hank hissed.
“Usually. That doesn’t mean it never happens.”
“What do we do?”
Sean thought for a moment before responding. “You two still have your guns, right?”
They nodded.
“Yeah,” Tommy said, “but I’ve only got two or three rounds left.”
“Same here,” Hank said.
“Sid might have some ammo sitting around. Check the cupboards and the pantries down here. I’m going to check the compartment where that Colt was earlier. Maybe there’s another one in there.”
“Won’t whoever is on the other boat see you?”
Sean cocked his head to the side and fired a derisive glare at Hank.
“Right,” Hank said. “I forgot. You’re awesome.”
Sean didn’t respond. Instead, he twisted around and got down on his belly. He crawled around to where he’d seen Slater get his weapon before. When he opened the hatch, he was disappointed at first. There wasn’t another AR. There was, however, something else.
Shouting from the other boat drew Sean’s attention away from the hatch’s contents for a second. The masculine voices were speaking Arabic. A second later, a spotlight from the top of the boat switched on. It lit up Sid’s vessel and would have temporarily blinded anyone on the deck if there’d been anyone there.
Sean stayed down, letting the light pass over him as the man controlling it passed it from one end of the boat to the other. They were looking for someone. Why, Sean didn’t know. What he did know was that these guys weren’t looking to be friends.
When the light passed back to the other end of the boat, Sean risked a peek over the edge of the gunwale. It was hard to tell how many were on board, but based on the silhouettes he counted, it looked like five.
Not the worst odds he’d faced, but certainly not in his favor.
The other boat drew closer, slowing its engines until they were almost idling straight at the starboard side of Sid’s ship.
Sean slid back over to the open hatch and reached in. He pulled out the weapon hanging on a metal rack and checked to make sure it was loaded. Another peek over the edge told him the men on the other boat were armed with AK-47s. Pretty common, especially in this part of the world. For smugglers, they were well armed if all they were doing was selling goods to a needy consumer base.
He listened closely. One of the men was issuing orders to the others, saying something about searching the boat. He must have been the one in charge of their little operation. Then Sean heard the guy order his men to kill anyone on board.
That made Sean’s next decision much easier.
He shouldered the weapon, rechecked to make sure it was properly loaded, and popped up from behind the gunwale. He lined up the sights with the cabin of the other boat and prepared to fire. Just as his finger tensed on the trigger, the spotlight swung around toward his position. He pulled the trigger.
For a split second he tensed, waiting for the weapon to fire, but nothing happened. “What the—?”
He ducked down just as the light reached where he was crouching. The spotlight kept moving until it reached the end of the vessel and then started back the other way again.
Sean looked at the weapon again and realized the safety was on. “Idiot,” he muttered.
He cursed himself for the mistake and hoped the other boat was still far enough away. He raised his head just enough to look over the side of the vessel and saw the other smuggler’s boat was still a good fifty feet away.
Sean readied the weapon again and prepared to fire, lining up the other boat in his sights. His finger tensed on the trigger again as the target vessel drifted a little, exposing the broad port side.
Before he could fire, a gunshot boomed from the direction of the island. The spotlight exploded in a flurry of sparks and shattered glass. For a second, it almost seemed brighter than before. Then just as quickly as it flashed, it went dark.
The men on board the other boat reacted instantly. Two of them rushed to the front of their vessel and started firing toward the shore. Sean risked another quick look overboard and couldn’t see what or who they were firing at. He didn’t need to see. He knew it was Slater who’d shot out the spotlight. Sean would recognize the sound of that Colt AR almost anywhere.
What he didn’t expect was Hank and Tommy to rush up the steps to the deck and start firing their weapons at the other boat, which is exactly what happened.
The two must have found what they were looking for down below because they unloaded full magazines at the enemy ship, doing little more than alerting the other three men aboard to their presence.
It only took a few seconds for the enemy to react. While the two men at the front of the boat were focused on Slater—wherever he was—the other three turned their attention to Sid�
�s boat.
Their Kalashnikovs blazed with thunderous booms like a midsummer gulf storm. Bullets pounded the hull of Sid’s boat, ripping through wood and fiberglass like it was cardboard.
Tommy and Hank immediately saw they were outgunned and retreated, diving back into the wheelhouse and down below deck.
Sean knew he and his friends were in trouble. And he knew just how to get them out of it.
He waited for a few tenuous seconds while the enemy unloaded the rest of their magazines at Sid’s boat. When he heard the bombardment slow, he knew at least one of the men was reloading—probably more than one. Even if they all weren’t, their attention was on the other end of the boat, not where he was hiding.
Sean raised up and placed the other vessel dead in his sights. “Third time’s the charm,” he said to himself.
His finger squeezed the trigger.
A loud pop like a stack of two hundred phone books hitting a gym floor at once boomed across the water. The boat shuddered, and a surge of heat deflected off the inside of the portside gunwale and washed over Sean’s back. The rocket propelled grenade whooshed out of the barrel in a fury of white fire and smoke. Sean didn’t have to wait long to see what happened next. The other boat was so close, the munition reached it in a split second.
The ordnance detonated on impact. The three men on the port side were instantly consumed by the sudden explosion. The two on the bow were shredded by shrapnel just before the concussion blew them clear of the destruction. Their bodies splashed down in the water at least twenty feet from their burning vessel. A moment later, the boat’s fuel erupted in an orange ball of fire.
Sean stood up, still holding the RPG launcher in his hands. The other smugglers’ boat was close enough that he could feel the searing heat from the blazing wreckage. Thick, black soup roiled into the sky.
Standing on the front deck, Sean looked out toward the shore. He made out two figures wading through the water. They looked an odd sight—Sid carrying two canisters of fuel in the sea with Slater leading the way, holding his weapon to his chin.
“I see you found my RPG-7!” Sid shouted as he drew near the boat.
Sean exhaled and looked down at the weapon in his hands with a fond appreciation. “Yeah. Good thing you had this sitting around. We might have been in trouble.”
Tommy and Hank appeared at the top of the steps on the deck and looked out over the fluttering waves.
Tommy saw the burning boat and immediately turned his head back to his friend. “You blew up the whole thing,” he said, somewhat stunned.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised. It’s not the first time we’ve done something like that.”
Tommy motioned to the RPG. “Where’d you get that?”
“Sid’s weapons hatch.” He twisted his head and looked down at Sid, who’d arrived on the starboard side of the boat. “I hope it’s okay if I call it that, Sid. Unless you’ve got other places where you stashed weapons on this thing.”
Sid ticked his head to the side. “You never know.”
Tommy was incensed. “I thought you said smugglers didn’t see each other out here. And you also said there weren’t any hostilities between you, that you left each other alone.” He threw up his hands in frustration.
Sid lifted a fuel tank, placing it on the back edge of the boat. “Hank, can you grab this?”
Hank shuffled over to the canister and hefted it out of the way, sliding it to the back corner where the others like it were housed.
“We don’t usually see other smugglers out here,” Sid explained. He lifted the second canister out of the water and placed it on the deck. He took a second to catch his breath after hauling the heavy fuel containers from the shore. “But it does happen.” He wiped his face with his forearm and then climbed up the ladder.
“What was with the hostility?”
Sid shrugged. “Who knows?”
Slater climbed back on board and looked out over the sea. “Could be a vendetta. Or maybe they don’t approve of your usual cargo,” he said. “Some of these guys in this part of the world are on a religious witch hunt to rid the area of unholy things. According to some Islamic beliefs, alcohol might be considered one of those things.”
“Or they’re just terrorist pirates,” Sean said, walking back to where the others were standing.
“Pirates?” Hank asked. “Shiver me timbers, arrr.” He laughed at his own terrible joke until he saw no one else thought it was funny. Then he cleared his throat and straightened his neck.
“Right.” Sean said. “You done?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“Pirates in the Persian Gulf?” Tommy asked. “I knew there were some in the waters off the African coasts, Somalia and all that. I didn’t know there were any out here.”
Sean clenched his jaw, staring out at the flaming remains of the pirates’ boat. “Yeah, there aren’t many, but they like to travel in packs. We need to get out of here before anyone else comes by.”
“That fire is sure to draw attention,” Slater added. “And if it doesn’t, the smoke will be seen for miles. Sooner or later, someone is going to show up.”
“How are we on fuel right now?” Sean asked Sid.
Sid pouted his lips and nodded. “We’re fine for now. I can top her off when we’re in safer waters.”
“Good. Let’s get moving. Everyone look alive. If we encounter any more trouble, we need to be ready.”
Chapter 10
Dubai
“The bodies have been disposed of, sir,” Cody said to Dufort. He waited with arms crossed, wondering what his employer would have him do next.
The other mercenaries had gotten rid of the bodies of their fallen comrades by taking them out in a dinghy, tying random pieces of heavy machinery from the docks to their ankles, and dropping the dead men in the gulf. The fish would take care of the rest, and no one would know what happened.
Dufort did little to hide his irritation. He was perplexed by the turn of events. First, he was taken on a wild goose chase to the wrong train station. Fine. That much he could deal with despite the fact that he ended up looking like an idiot to his men. Then he had Wyatt and company surrounded, yet somehow the Americans had managed to escape.
Where had the boat come from? Who was driving it? And how in the world did Wyatt and his associates slip through Dufort’s men?
It was maddening. And for the time being, there was no telling where they’d gone. He shook his head, still staring out at the dark sea beyond the docks.
“We’ll find them, sir. That cabin cruiser can’t have a long range. They’ll have to make berth somewhere.”
“No,” Dufort said after a long silence. “That ship can travel at least a hundred nautical miles before refueling, maybe more. They’ll have prepared for that. I’d wager they have more fuel on board.”
Cody gritted his teeth together, embarrassed. “Then what should we do next, sir?”
“We’ll go after them shortly. You and your men get some rest. I’m tracking their movements. When they make a move, we’ll know exactly where to pounce. Have the men sleep in shifts. We might have to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“Of course, sir. I’ll tell the men.”
“And get two more recruits,” Dufort said. “We have to replace the ones we lost tonight.”
“I’m on it.”
The younger man spun around and trotted away. Dufort heard him issuing orders to the rest of the men, passing on their employer’s message.
Dufort was annoyed. He didn’t care about his hired guns on a personal level. They were nothing more than pawns to him. Those men were, however, expensive. And they weren’t always easy to find. Many of them were ex-military from varying governments around the world. He’d found it interesting how men who may have once been enemies were so willing to unite under a common banner—money.
Cash changed allegiances, forged new friendships and allies. It was the great equalizer. It took men from often highly contrasted backgrounds and
turned them into a sort of band of brothers.
Of course, that loyalty was easily broken. All it took was a higher sum of money, a better offer from somewhere else.
Dufort shook his head, snapping back to the current situation. Hopefully, Cody could find a few guys. He’d know the right places to look, and Dubai was ripe with former ex-special forces types. Many of them moved to the burgeoning city to start private security companies for the many billionaires and millionaires that populated the area. The men hated the work—babysitting wealthy brats or their parents. But the gigs paid well.
Dufort’s edge was an offer to get back in the game, to do something somewhat dangerous again.
As much as so many former military guys were glad to get out of combat, life as a civilian was tougher for many. These unfortunate souls had a difficult time adjusting. In a strange way, being in a war brought a sense of normality to some.
Dufort couldn’t relate. He’d never served in the military back in France, getting a medical exemption that relieved him of what he considered to be too dangerous and beneath him. As a child of privilege, making the exemption happen didn’t take much, just rubbing the right people with the right amount of money.
He pulled the phone out of his pocket and checked it. The hour was getting late. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep, but he had to try. Even with his resolute determination, Dufort was still human. He required the same necessities as any other person.
He turned and meandered back to his SUV and climbed in the back. The driver was already behind the wheel, waiting for instructions.
“Take me back to the hotel, Terrance,” he said as he shut the door. His lips creased into a wicked grin.
Even with the loss of two of his men and the seemingly well-timed escape by Wyatt and his friends, everything was going according to plan.
Chapter 11
Doha, Qatar
Slater had thought of everything. After landing in Doha, he and his new associates went straight to the airport where Sid had a small cargo plane ready.
The Sahara Legacy Page 8
