“Highly unusual for Egyptian architecture,” Ed said.
“Maybe because it’s not from an Egyptian period,” Thomas countered.
Kade shot him a sideways glance.
Thomas shrugged. “Just calling it how I see it, boss. You know it’s on everybody’s mind.”
“Morgan to base,” Kade said into the mic. “We’re proceeding down the corridor.”
“Roger that,” the female student replied. “Your video and audio are coming through loud and clear.”
They slowly processed along the narrow corridor, their helmet lights illuminating the sloping tunnel ahead. As they approached another stone door, Kade’s light caught an object on the floor. He moved closer, focusing his light on it—and stopped in his tracks when his helmet light hit a body.
Thomas recoiled. “Cripes!” he blurted.
“Relax, Indiana,” Kade said. “No snakes around.” He cautiously approached the body. Tattered clothes hung loosely on the decomposing man, whose empty eye sockets stared sightlessly upward.
Thomas swallowed hard. “This one is still decaying. But if he died later than the guy in the door, how did he get past him?” he asked.
“They died at the same time,” Kade replied. “The desert environment sped up the decomposition process out there. The lower temperature in the tunnel made for a slower decomposition rate. My guess is they were in the same party.”
He looked over his shoulder at Wallace. “The clothes are European,” he said. “Early twentieth century? That would make it consistent with our estimate of the timeframe of the tools used to carve the opening in the exterior door.”
Wallace seemed not to notice the man or hear Kade. He continued wordlessly past them to the end of the tunnel and stopped in front of another stone entrance. Mesmerized, he moved his hands toward the carving in the center of the door, a bird in flight, its talons locked around a triangular object.
Thomas glanced at Wallace then knelt on one knee beside Kade. “Check out the ring on his hand.”
Kade bent closer to the man’s left hand. A gold signet ring circled the bone that had once been the man’s little finger. Kade struggled to keep his hand steady as he gently slid the ring off the decomposing body and lifted it.
He squinted, straining to focus on the coat of arms engraved into the signet. A half-eagle, half-lion reared on its hind legs, eager to tear into its prey. Kade froze and stared at Thomas.
“A griffin,” he whispered. “That greedy bastard found it, after all.”
Thomas gave him a blank look.
“The griffin was the sigil of Lord George Renley, arguably the most infamous explorer of the early twentieth century,” Kade continued. “He used his inheritance to amass the largest private collection of antiquities in Europe, then he spent his final years and most of his money seeking the Hall of—”
Kade was interrupted by a brilliant blue light that filled the tunnel. He snapped his head to the stone entrance. Ed Wallace stood at the door, his helmet cast in a blue hue that emanated from the shimmering triangular object locked inside the bird’s talons. His face glowed through the visor and his lips curled into a thin smile as they moved in a breathless whisper, a single word, barely audible in Kade’s headset.
“Finally.”
3 The College of William and Mary, Virginia—Seven Years Earlier
Alyssa paused the episode of Bill Nye The Science Guy that was playing on her tablet and craned her neck to glance over the back of the student sitting in front of her. She sighed loudly when she saw the clock in the front of the large lecture hall. Five more minutes…
The young woman sitting ahead of her turned around. “Almost over—hang in there, kiddo,” she said. “You’re a real champ making it through your dad’s lectures.”
Alyssa flushed and she buried her head in the tablet as her dad’s voice carried on from the front of the lecture hall.
“In 1923, psychic Edgar Cayce made the claim that he had discovered the location of the fabled lost Hall of Records,” he continued, “a library purported to have dwarfed the great Library of Alexandria, containing the history and technology—a technology more advanced than even our own—of the lost civilization of… Atlantis.”
Atlantis? She lifted her head as she heard several students mutter.
Her dad looked up from his notes at the roomful of undergraduate students that filled the hall. He met her eyes and gave her a wink. Alyssa smiled shyly and hid behind the student in front of her.
“This location was under the Great Sphinx of Giza, which Cayce claimed was actually built in the image of the ruler of this ancient civilization.”
A young man in the front row raised his hand. Alyssa’s dad nodded to him.
“But, Dr. Morgan, wasn’t the Sphinx built by the pharaoh who built the Great Pyramids?” he asked. “Khufu or Khafre?”
“Very good, Mr. Wallace,” her dad replied. “Mainstream Egyptology tells us that Khafre, son of Khufu, built the Sphinx. Then, in the late nineteen eighties, respected Egyptologist Francis Chaplain claimed to have evidence proving that the true age of the Sphinx didn’t fit into any of the established timetables of the Old or New Kingdoms, casting doubt on its actual age. Unfortunately for him, his echoing of Cayce’s earlier claims of an advanced civilization left him marginalized in academia.”
“But that’s not fair,” the student shot back. “He was simply proposing another theory!”
“Scientists are complicated at best, Ed… and ruthless at their worst,” her dad responded. “Chaplain found that out the hard way and lived out the rest of his life as a—” he paused, a distant flicker of regret crossing his eyes—“a grumpy old hermit.”
“Well, I’ll leave you all with that until next time we meet, which is… uh…” he fumbled with his notes.
Alyssa perked up. “Thursday at two p.m., Dad,” she said before thinking.
The students in the auditorium laughed. Her dad looked up with an embarrassed smirk.
“Right. Thank you, sweetheart. Yes, see you all on Thursday at two p.m.!”
Alyssa packed her tablet in her backpack and followed the students down the stairs of the auditorium as they rushed out of the room to their next lectures.
“Finally!” Alyssa yelled, darting for her dad. “All this talk about mummies is giving me the creepies!”
“Creepies?” he faced her. “Come on, they’re not that scary.”
Alyssa put her fists on her hips and frowned. “If having your brain pulled out through your nose isn’t creepy, I don’t know what is.”
Her dad stared at her for several moments. He shook his head and laughed. “You’ve got a valid point there, kiddo.” He turned to the computer connected to the projector and brought up an image of a mummy on the screen.
Alyssa wrinkled her nose when she saw the tattered rags hanging on the shriveled body. “Ewww…”
Her dad stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Give it a chance. Try to look beyond the icky factor. What do you see?”
Alyssa forced herself to look at the image. “Some ancient dried-out guy who’s been dead for ages?”
“Actually, this is a woman,” he said. “We can tell from the shape of the pelvis and the type of ornaments with which she was buried.” He pointed at the screen. “Also, do you see how she was laid to rest with her arms crossed? That and the high quality of the wrappings suggest that she was a noble woman, perhaps even a member of a royal family.” Her dad faced her. “By studying her, we can learn all about her culture, the diseases and injuries she may have suffered, even what kinds of food she ate. We can even take 3D images of the bones that allow us to reconstruct what she looked like.” He scrolled through the files before selecting a computer-generated image of an exotic looking woman with elegant features and jet-black, braided hair and striking brown eyes.
“Wow—she’s beautiful!” Alyssa said.
“See, you don’t have to be afraid of mummies.” He looked at her impishly. “
So… you know why mummies are so good at keeping secrets?”
Alyssa cocked her head.
“They keep them under wraps.” He winked at her.
Alyssa stared at him, her brow crinkled, then rolled her eyes. “Daaaad… just when it was getting good!”
“Oh, come on—it wasn’t that bad.” He laughed. “For a science geek.” He held her gaze for a moment longer then his expression seemed to shift. He swallowed and looked down. When he looked up again, he had turned serious. He picked her up and set her on the big table.
“Sweetheart. I got a call this morning.”
Alyssa felt a lump in the pit of her stomach. “Uh-oh. You’ve got that look again.”
“You know the position I applied for? In Cairo?”
Alyssa pulled away from him as realization set in. “No, Dad. I don’t want to go to Egypt! I want to stay here!”
“Sweetheart…”
Alyssa began to cry. “Dad, no… please don’t make us move.” She felt the tears running down her cheeks. “If Mom was still alive we’d never go. I don’t want to go to Egypt. I love it here!”
Her dad pulled her close and held her tightly. “You will love it there, too. You’ll see. You just have to give it a chance.” He took her face gently in his hands. “Will you give it a chance, Alyssa? For us? For Mom?”
She remained quiet as the tears streaked down her cheeks.
“Alyssa?” her dad repeated, pleading.
“Alyssa?”
Alyssa stirred. She regained consciousness slowly, her brain fumbling for a connection to her senses. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights and smell of antiseptic registered first. Then the soft, regular chirping that echoed her heartbeat. Her head was pounding and her body felt as if somebody had scraped out her gut with a trowel. She slowly opened her eyes, straining to focus. I’m in a bed… a hospital bed. She saw the young man sitting in the simple metal chair next to the bed.
His head jerked up and he darted to the door. “Doctor, she’s waking up!”
He whirled and rushed back to the bed. “Alyssa, how are you feeling? You scared us to death!”
She was still trying to process his words when her mind registered a woman’s voice. “Slowly, joven, all in time.” The woman’s voice was calm but firm as she entered the room, her Spanish accent giving it a fiery tone. She approached the bed. “Señorita Morgan, I am Dr. Raquel Huerta. Do you know where you are?”
Alyssa sluggishly focused on the woman. Thinking felt like running under water. Gradually things began to fill in. I was doing fieldwork… New Zealand… no… South America. I’m in South America. She spoke hesitantly. “Peru.”
“Bravo, señorita, very good.” The physician smiled. “You are at Clinica Panamericana in Cusco. Do you know why you are here?”
Her memories began to take shape. The Chinisiri site… Inca graves… “We were cataloguing grave sites.” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth as she spoke.
She saw the young man breathe a sigh of relief. Jacob. She gave him a tired smile.
He stared back, the concern not yet ready to leave his face.
“What… happened?” she asked.
“What were you thinking, Alyssa? You’ve never even flown solo…”
“Flown solo?” Her mind leaped. The men with the guns!
She bolted up, ignoring the sudden wave of nausea that hit her. “Who were those men?” She paused and looked at Jacob, exhaling quietly.
“Thank God you’re okay.” She felt dizzy as the memories came flooding back. “The team?”
“Easy, señorita,” the physician said. “You must rest your head. What is the last thing you remember?”
Alyssa struggled to recall. “The plane…” She dropped her head, dejected. “I crashed the friggin’ plane.” Her shoulders slumped. “Kade’s gonna be so pissed.”
The woman gently touched Alyssa’s head and shined a pen light into each pupil. Alyssa winced at the bright glow. “You suffered a concussion, but you were very lucky to escape serious injury. For now, you must rest. You will be out of the hospital and on your feet before you know it.” She turned to Jacob. “You may have a few moments with the señorita, but please be brief.”
Jacob waited for the doctor to leave the room. He pulled his chair closer to the bed then reached out and touched Alyssa’s hand. She flinched, Jacob had never been comfortable with physical contact between them. Even a simple hug made him blush like a beetroot.
“The others are fine. They are outside the room.”
“What happened, Jake? Who were those men?”
“After you crashed they just… took off.”
Alyssa stared at him, confused. “That doesn’t make any sense! They come in, wave guns in your face, then just take off? What did they want?”
He shook his head, seemingly bracing himself for what came next. “Alyssa, do you remember the call from your dad?”
Alyssa’s mind leaped again. The Hall of Records! The flight to Egypt! Her head spun as another wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her. “The dig in Egypt! How long have I been out? I need to get to—”
Jacob inhaled sharply. “That was two days ago.”
“What? I gotta get out of here!”
“I’m sorry Alyssa, you heard the doc. You aren’t in any condition to travel.”
She glared at him and pulled her hand back. “Damn it, Jacob! You have no idea how important this was to him. This was his big moment and I missed it. And now I’m stuck in a friggin’ hospital on the other side of the world!”
Jacob drew back, startled, and she softened her tone. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know it’s not your fault. It’s just…” She felt tears well up.
Jacob’s eyes never left hers. He reached for her hand again and placed it between his palms. She felt his fingers tight and warm against her skin. “Ally.” It was the first time he had called her by her nickname. “I’m so sorry.” He hesitated. “There is much worse.”
Alyssa stared at him, unblinking, unaware she was holding her breath.
“Something went terribly wrong during the dig,” Jacob continued. “Your dad and the rest of his team have gotten very ill. Dr. Wallace… is dead.”
Kade is sick, Ed Wallace dead? Alyssa’s mind raced. Her body began to tremble. How…? She didn’t notice the tears running freely over her cheeks. I should have been there.
When she finally managed to speak, her voice came out as a cracked whisper. “Tell me everything you know.”
He took a deep breath. “Everything was going to plan initially. They were wearing their bio-containment suits, but somehow they must have gotten exposed to something. A few minutes after entering the tunnel, they all started getting sick. The Egyptian authorities suspect a spore-forming virus and have quarantined the area. They’re not letting anybody anywhere near the site. CDC and the World Health Organization sent their teams and started their own investigations.”
Alyssa stared at him. “I have to go back to Egypt,” she said. “I have to see him.”
“Alyssa, your dad is in Level 4 isolation. Nobody is allowed to see him.” He grimaced, a pained expression on his tired face. “I’m so sorry…”
Alyssa’s throat was beginning to close up. The throbbing in her head was unbearable. She clenched her hands until she felt her fingernails bite deep into the soft flesh of her palms.
“Will you bring me my laptop?
“Alyssa. You need to rest. You heard—”
“Jacob…” she stared at him, her jaw set.
His eyes told her that he recognized the futility in trying to argue.
“Yes, of course,” he said quietly and left the room.
Dr. Kamal Khanna was completely enclosed in his white Biosafety Level 4 suit as he stared at the large monitor connected to the high-powered microscope, his brow furrowed in frustration. He turned a knob to reposition the slide and analyzed another section of Kade Morgan’s blood sample as he adjusted the focus.
His eyes narrowed when he caugh
t the silhouette of a dark pentagon in the corner of the screen. He repositioned the object into the center of the display and increased the magnification. He traced the outline of the strange object with his gloved finger, vexed.
“Is that a capsule, Ahmed?” he said to the other man in the laboratory. “It doesn’t match any bacteria or virus I’ve ever seen.”
“None of the blood samples match anything in our database,” the other man replied, trying to hide his frustration. “The other teams are running more tests, but so far nothing!”
Kamal opened his mouth to reply when the computer beeped, indicating an incoming call. He sighed and pressed a button to accept it. His expression brightened when he recognized the young woman on his monitor.
“Kamal?” Alyssa said. “How is Kade?”
Kamal’s smile faded. “I’m so sorry about this, Alyssa.”
“How is he?”
“Not good, I’m afraid.” Kamal said glumly. “We’re still waiting for results to show any positive leads.”
“And Dr. Wallace? Was there nothing…?”
“Ed was pronounced dead at the site.”
“I’m taking the first flight back. When can I see him?”
“He is in Level 4 isolation with restricted access. Only medical staff is permitted—”
“He’s my father!”
“I’m sorry, Alyssa, I won’t allow you to endanger yourself. Until we know what we’re dealing—”
“You can’t be serious!”
The other scientist gently stepped in. “Miss Morgan…”
“Alyssa, this is Dr. Ahmed Farag,” Kamal said, “Egypt’s leading infectious diseases specialist. Dr. Farag is leading this investigation.”
“Miss Morgan, I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you,” Farag continued, “but please rest assured, your father is receiving the best possible care. We simply cannot risk—”
“Whatever!” Alyssa snapped. She took a deep breath. “Can I at least talk to him?”
Heir of Ra (Blood of Ra Book One) Page 3
