Heir of Ra (Blood of Ra Book One)

by M. Sasinowski

  “He’s delirious, not making any sense.” Kamal shook his head. “He keeps talking about something he found—”

  “Something he found?” Alyssa interrupted. “What did the feeds show?”

  “The feeds?”

  “The video footage from the dig! Somebody must have looked at it!”

  “All of the equipment is undergoing full decontamination before the official investigation.”

  Alyssa’s mouth was set in a thin line, her expression unreadable.

  “Alyssa?”

  Her frown deepened as the silence dragged on. Finally, she said, “Thank you, Kamal.” She ended the connection.

  “Alyssa!”

  Kamal looked at Farag, his mouth open, then sighed deeply and turned back to the microscope.

  Alyssa closed her laptop and stared at Jacob. Her shoulders slumped as she sat in the hospital bed struggling against the achiness building in her chest.

  “I should have been there with him.”

  “You would have ended up in the room next to him. Or worse.” He handed her a glass of water and flashed her a tired grin. “So, who’s this Kamal fellow? He looked pretty dashing in that spaceman get-up. Should I be getting jealous?”

  Alyssa took a small sip of the water and gave him a half smile. “One of my father’s friends, a molecular biologist. He got promoted and now runs a big research inst—”

  “Señorita Morgan!”

  Their heads snapped to the door. Alyssa winced when she met Dr. Huerta’s scowl.

  “Señorita Morgan, what is this?” The doctor pointed at her laptop and gave a heavy sigh. “You must brain rest. It is very important.” She approached Alyssa, her arm outstretched. “Your computer. Por favor.”

  Alyssa grabbed her laptop tight.

  “No.”

  “Por favor, señorita.” She scowled and shot a stern look in Jake’s direction. “Señor Jacob. You are the señorita’s novio, yes? She must rest.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jake stuttered, a blank look on his face. “Novio?” he asked.

  “No, wait, he’s not my—” Alyssa started.

  The doctor glanced at Jake. “Novio… as you say… boyfriend, yes?”

  Jake froze and lit up like a red nose on a reindeer. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

  “So as novio you must take good care of—” the doctor continued.

  “He’s not my—” Alyssa repeated.

  “No, no—” Jake finally stammered.

  “What?” Dr. Huerta’s eyebrows squished together in confusion. “You must take care—”

  “Yes, of course,” he said.

  “What?” Alyssa shot him a confused look.

  Jake’s eyes ping-ponged from Dr. Huerta to Alyssa. “No, I mean, yes, of course I will take care of… not that I’m your…” He looked like he was about to hyperventilate.

  Dr. Huerta snatched the computer from Alyssa. “I will keep safe,” and turned around.

  “No, wait—” Alyssa started. “My computer!”

  “I’m n-not her n-novio!” Jake stammered as the woman continued to the door.

  Dr. Huerta turned. “Five more minutes, Señor Jacob, then the señorita will rest,” she said before stepping out of the room.

  “I’m not her—” Jake repeated, gasping for air.

  “He’s not my—” Alyssa hollered.

  “Adolescentes.” Dr. Huerta shook her head as she closed the door.

  4 Private Hangar 7, Raleigh-Durham International Airport

  Tasha stepped out of the small office and into the open space. She pressed a button on the remote control in her hand and the large metal door of the hangar began to slide open, revealing the tarmac and pulsing lights of the runway in the distance. She glanced up at George Renley with a satisfied smirk.

  “I told you the professor would collaborate.”

  Renley stayed silent, studying her face. “What happened in Peru?”

  “Peru?”

  “Don’t play me for a fool, Tasha.”

  “Those weren’t our men. Why would we care about the girl?”

  The man furrowed his brow. “If not you, then who?”

  Tasha shrugged. Renley continued gazing at her silently. After several moments he nodded to the private jet parked inside the hangar. “You should go. Drake and the others are waiting.”

  Tasha flinched at the name.

  “The new leader is becoming impatient… and unpredictable,” Renley said.

  Tasha tried to ignore the thickness in her throat. “He scares me,” she said softly.

  Renley gently took her head in his hands. “Get close to him,” he said.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” she asked. “The others… they will listen to you. They—”

  “His father ruled the Society for four decades. Their loyalty to his legacy runs deep. As long as Drake controls the Society, he is useful to us.”

  She looked up at him and swallowed. “I will do as you ask.”

  He kissed her forehead then looked at her somberly. “Don’t let his youth fool you. He has been groomed for this role ever since he was born. He may not suspect anything yet, but don’t underestimate his intellect—William Drake is as perceptive as he is paranoid.”

  Tasha leaned into him, biting her lower lip to stop it from trembling. “I will miss you,” she said.

  Alyssa forced herself to unclench her jaw as she watched Dr. Huerta’s finger trace out a large “N” in front of her face. Her eyes slowly followed the physician’s hand.

  “You are making good progress, Señorita Morgan,” Dr. Huerta said. “A few more days and you will be back on your feet.” She made some notes on her clipboard and stepped out of the room.

  Alyssa waited for the woman to close the door. She hit the bed with her fists and bolted up. “I gotta get out of here!”

  “You heard Kamal,” Jacob replied. “There is nothing you can do in Egypt. The best thing for you to do is to rest and get better.”

  Alyssa glared at him. “You just don’t understand!”

  Jacob raised his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

  Alyssa took a deep breath. She closed her eyes, searching for a place to start. Finally, she said, “Do you remember the scoop on Francis Chaplain?”

  “The loony with the ‘ancient aliens’ theories?” Jacob snickered.

  “Yeah,” Alyssa replied. “That one. He was actually a well-respected archaeologist for most of his career, but people really came down on him when he started claiming that the Sphinx was built by an advanced civilization. After his… downfall, he became a recluse and kept in touch with only a handful of people. There were even rumors of a secret society funded with money from Edgar Cayce and other well-to-dos who believed these stories.” Alyssa swallowed hard. “Jake… Chaplain was my mom’s father… my grandfather.”

  “What?” Jacob looked at her dumbfounded.

  “When my parents met, my grandfather had already secluded himself, but he and Kade eventually grew close. Kade became interested in his work.”

  “You can’t tell me your dad believed any of Chaplain’s ramblings!”

  Alyssa shrugged. “Maybe it started out as mere intellectual curiosity,” she continued, “but it grew into a compulsion. Kade kept pushing. Finally, my grandfather relented and shared everything he knew.”

  Jacob’s face was caught somewhere between a wince and a smile. “Chaplain… the Chaplain… and your dad?” He shook his head.

  “Kade realized that the key to proving these theories was the Hall of Records. He and my mom followed a lead to Cambay when she…” Alyssa fought the tightness building in her chest. “My grandfather blamed Kade for what happened to my mom… He never forgave him.”

  Jacob leaned closer. “Have you?” he asked softly.

  Alyssa scowled and pulled back. “If he hadn’t dragged her with him—”

  “Her death wasn’t his fault, Alyssa,” Jacob cut in gently. “You know that.”

  “Everyth
ing fell apart after we lost her, Jake,” Alyssa said, struggling to ignore the burning behind her eyelids. “After we moved to Cairo, he just…” she trailed off.

  Jacob watched her silently as she fought off the surge and crash of bitter emotions that awoke inside her.

  “I just wanted to go home, Jake. Go back to Virginia with my dad… finally leave Egypt behind forever.”

  Grayson Baxter barely noticed the constant hum of the twin engines of the Gulfstream VII private jet as he replayed the last several hours of his life in his head. To call it surreal would be an understatement. After he accepted the “offer,” he and Tasha boarded the private jet waiting for them in the hangar. He looked at the young woman leaning back in the plush leather chair across from him.

  “What’s in Egypt?” he asked, mindful to keep his eyes on her face instead of her thighs, exposed by the short black skirt as she crossed her long legs.

  Tasha Mendeva returned his gaze, unblinking. Finally, she leaned forward in her chair. “How much do you know about ancient Egyptian history, Professor?”

  “Do I look like I give a damn?” he shot back.

  Tasha smiled a thin smile. “Would you… give a damn… if you could be responsible for the greatest leap in human evolution?”

  Baxter gave a bark of laughter but leaned forward and pushed up his glasses.

  Tasha took a sip of her drink before she spoke, her voice flat and smooth, and decidedly unrushed. “There is evidence that a long time before Upper and Lower Egypt were unified into a single kingdom, before the climatic changes turned the Sahara into the desert it is now, there occurred a significant influx of technology and expertise that dates back thousands of years. According to Egyptian mythology, a king called Menes unified the two regions and built the Sphinx millennia before the Egyptian civilization…”

  “Fascinating,” Baxter said in a tone that implied the exact opposite.

  “…and he lies buried beneath it,” Tasha continued.

  Baxter snorted. “Let’s assume for a moment that your ludicrous theory about the Sphinx and Menes is true. Why do you care?”

  “To unite Egypt and be worshiped as a living god required more than just good strategic sense. There are clues that the ancient ruling society had genetic attributes that have since been lost.”

  Baxter’s cynical smile slowly faded as he puzzled over this, tapping his fingers on his glass.

  Tasha regarded him, her violet eyes sharp as scalpels. “Increased intelligence, extended life span, we don’t even know what else is possible. Just imagine melding these attributes with modern technology—and reviving the genetic lineage that influenced Egyptian mythology.”

  “You want to fuse ancient genetic material into modern DNA to harness the power of an ancient civilization.” Baxter pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyelids tightly, finally beginning to piece the puzzle together. “And you need me to isolate this genetic material from the remains, reconstruct the genes and develop a method to insert them into—”

  “Us…” Tasha said as she leaned back in the chair and smiled, revealing her perfect white teeth.

  Baxter shook his head emphatically, his gray hair waving in the air. “This has got to be the most ridiculous story I have ever heard.” He drained the rest of his drink and set the glass loudly on the polished wooden tray. “The chances of reconstructing genes from DNA that old are zero. Even if we could extract the DNA, it would be degraded beyond any recognition.”

  She gave him a smug look. “What if I told you that the genetic material has been preserved?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, leaning forward.

  “Egyptian mythology claims that Menes never truly died. Instead, he is sealed in a chamber beneath the Sphinx, watching over his descendants… a type of hibernation state that preserved him—and the genetic material.”

  He laughed. “Are you suggesting that somehow the technology existed thousands of years ago to induce the equivalent of cryogenic sleep?”

  Tasha rolled her eyes eloquently. “I’m not suggesting that we can bring him back to life, if that’s what you’re implying. But we may be able to recover his genetic material.”

  Grayson Baxter took a deep breath and leaned back into the seat. He crossed his arms.

  “Your Menes has been down there for millennia. Why the hurry now?”

  Alyssa peered at Jacob who seemed to struggle absorbing what he had just heard. She picked her fingernails as her teeth tugged at her lower lip.

  “That hall, Jake, it cost our family so much. My grandfather’s reputation… and sanity, my mom’s life. And now Kade…”

  Jacob rubbed his temples, his face betraying an internal battle. Finally, he sat up, swallowing hard.

  “I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but you’ll find out sooner or later,” he said. “Kamal called again to check on you. He said this whole thing has turned into a full-out international turf war. The CDC and World Health Organization have declared the site off limits, pending a full investigation. All the equipment has been shipped to the World Health Organization in London for a full inspection. Laptops, logs, recordings… everything.”

  Alyssa stared at him, her mind racing. “Jake, something really bad happened during that dig,” she said. “I need to find out what. They won’t let me see him, but what about the video feeds? Maybe they can provide some clues? I need to find out what’s making him ill—or go after anything that may point me in the right direction.” She paused. “I have to.”

  Jacob sighed. “There’s no convincing you otherwise, is there?”

  “Will you help me?”

  Jacob stared at her silently, his eyes glued to hers. Finally, he said, “Of course, Alyssa… anything.”

  “I need my clothes and backpack.”

  Jacob nodded slowly. He stood and turned to leave.

  “Wait, Jake.”

  “Yes?” He looked at her over his shoulder.

  “You think you can get your hands on my laptop?”

  He took a deep breath, nodded again, and reached for the door.

  “Oh, and…” she said, grimacing.

  He stopped and turned.

  “I need you to distract Dr. Huerta for me.”

  5 Outside of Cairo

  William Drake slammed his fist on the long mahogany conference table, spilling the Chateau Petrus champagne from his crystal glass. The sound reverberated through the room as it reflected off the ornate marble paneling decorating the walls.

  He raised his head. “How the hell does the World Health Organization just stroll into an Egyptian excavation site and confiscate all the equipment?” He surveyed the dozen men and women sitting around the long table, the vintage wall sconces casting ghostly shadows across their faces.

  After several heartbeats, a dark-haired woman at the far end of the table broke the silence. “The Egyptians were also taken by complete surprise,” she said, an Italian accent complementing her sultry lips and the graceful lines of her cheekbones. “But this was an international project, involving an unknown pathogen, so the WHO claimed jurisdiction and—”

  Drake silenced the woman with a look, his deep-set dark eyes burning into her like the lit end of a cigarette.

  “Tell me, Dr. Tibaldi,” Drake’s words were barely a whisper through his clenched jaw, “when you were invited to join the Society, was it based on your convictions for my father’s theories and your expertise as a leading geologist, or was it based on your ability to make excuses for your incompetence?”

  “You done yet?” a brusque voice cut through the room. “When you’ve finished ranting maybe we can figure out how to fix this mess and get us back on track.”

  Drake glared at the man sitting in the chair to his right. Grayson Baxter was the only person in the room whose clothes did not look like they belonged in a Vogue magazine ad. A faded, blue, button-down shirt was tucked halfheartedly into his khakis. Running a hand through his gray hair, the American geneticist calmly returned the
young man’s stare.

  “What happened at the dig wasn’t anybody’s fault,” Baxter continued. He threw a newspaper down on the table, pointing at the front page headline. “The Minister of Antiquities decided to make this event his personal public relations campaign, so the eyes of the world were already on the dig. The WHO had no choice but to secure the site and contain the mess.”

  “You’re very clever, Professor, but sometimes your brain goes to your head,” Drake replied with forced restraint.

  Tasha Mendeva cleared her throat. “He has a point, Will. According to our sources at the WHO, the equipment was flown to their headquarters in London. It’s scheduled to arrive there tomorrow morning.”

  Drake regarded her in silence, lips pressed together. Finally, he spoke.

  “The object disappeared from the site. I need to know what happened to it,” he said quietly. “Contact our man in England.”

  “And Kade Morgan?” Baxter asked.

  Drake looked at him. “What about Kade Morgan?”

  “We need to know what we’re dealing with. He may be much more dangerous than those fools in the hospital realize.”

  Drake considered this then turned to Tasha. “This task seems particularly suited to your talents.”

  Tasha nodded curtly. “And the girl?” she asked.

  Drake studied her for several moments. “She’s harmless. For her sake, let’s hope she stays in Peru.”

  “This is the final boarding call for LatAm flight 2022 with service to London’s Heathrow airport. All ticketed passengers should now be on board. The flight will depart…”

  Alyssa tuned out the overhead announcement and gathered every last bit of energy, fighting for breath. Come on! She ignored the burning in her legs and willed them to move even faster as she raced through the terminal of the Cusco airport. Finally, she spotted her gate—and the gate agent stepping up to the metal door, closing it.

  “Wait!” she yelled at the woman, breathless. “I’m coming!”