Heir of Ra (Blood of Ra Book One)

by M. Sasinowski

  “With respect, Doctor. You can’t be in here without a safety gown!”

  Tasha whirled sharply and glared at the physician standing in the doorway.

  “Are you part of Dr. Morgan’s care team?” he asked, closing the door behind him. He approached the bed guardedly. “My name is Dr. Ahmed Farag.” He eyed the badge on Tasha’s white coat. “What service are you with?”

  Tasha remained silent as Dr. Farag continued moving toward the bed. He froze when he spotted the disconnected IV line.

  Before he had a chance to react, Tasha lunged at him, ripping the mask from his face. He reeled back, staggering against the wall at the head of the bed.

  The thin knife in Tasha’s hand appeared as if from nowhere. Terrified, Farag stared into her violet eyes as she stalked toward him. Panicked, his gaze darted around the room. He spotted the code blue button and hit it. An instant later, the sound of the cardiac code alarm filled the corridor.

  Tasha glared at the blue light flashing above the bed. The physician held his breath as her glare bored through him before she spun for the door—and stared into the face of the security guard standing in the doorway.

  “Hold it!” the guard barked, drawing his pistol.

  Tasha darted forward and, in one motion, snatched the gun then spun and flipped the guard on his back. She pointed the pistol at the man, who gaped at her open-mouthed.

  “Don’t!” The word seemed to burst out of Farag’s mouth before he realized it. Tasha’s head snapped toward him, a feral look in her eyes.

  “Please…” Farag mouthed.

  She moved her gaze back to the man lying on the floor, his face a mask of dread as he stared into the barrel of his pistol.

  The memories came uninvited.

  The attackers in the alley.

  The tall man.

  You shall never have to be scared again.

  Tasha ejected the magazine and cleared the bullet from the chamber then dropped the pistol to the ground before bolting through the door.

  10 World Health Organization—Information Technology Department

  Alyssa sat on Clay’s desk, holding the crystal pyramid. It had cooled off and felt smooth against her skin. It was heavier than it looked, much heavier than a piece of glass or ordinary crystal of that size. She held it up against the light from the floor lamp. Nothing, no reflection, no internal facet structure, she pondered. Just an interesting looking paperweight—until you shine a laser into it.

  She put down the crystal and looked at Clay, pursing her lips in thought. “How did you know to shine the laser pointer into it?”

  “Lucky guess… or stroke of genius.” He gave a toothy grin. “I had no idea it would actually work. If it really is an optical storage device, I suppose it makes sense that any frequency triggered it since the data is stored across the entire spectrum. I wasn’t able to hold the beam steady, I suppose that’s why it jumped from one image to another.”

  “Can you access more of it?”

  “I’m not sure. Even if I could put something together, I have no idea how much we’d be able to get, or how long at a time.” He saw her darken with disappointment and quickly added. “But we should be able to do better than a laser pointer.”

  He stood. “There’s some equipment in the VR lab that I can appropriate for this.” He smiled impishly. “I’ve got everything else I need at home. Give me a few minutes.” He walked through a side door into the adjoining lab.

  Paul opened the door to Clay’s office. Alyssa sat on the desk, cross-legged, peering into the crystal. She had changed her clothes, trading her suit and high heels for a pair of jeans, a gray college sweatshirt, and sneakers. She glanced up. Paul pulled a chocolate bar and a soda can from a paper bag and held it out. “Dinner?”

  Alyssa lit up. She hopped off the desk and grabbed the bar, tore open the wrapper, and sank her teeth into it. Paul smiled at her expression as she savored the snack.

  The next bite was interrupted by the sound of her phone. A look of disappointment crossed her face. She glanced at the caller ID—and threw the snack on the table and snatched the phone.

  “Kamal, any news about Kade?”

  Paul watched as she listened for a few seconds before her hand rushed to her mouth and the color drained from her face.

  “What? When?”

  “What’s going on?” Paul asked, a dozen questions racing through his mind. She shushed him and stared through him, fingers touching her parted lips.

  “Oh my God… yes… I understand… thank you, Kamal.” She put the phone down and slumped into the chair.

  “That was Kamal… my father’s friend from Cairo,” she said to Paul, her hands trembling. “Somebody broke into his hospital room.” She brought her knees to her chest, hugging them. “Paul, I think somebody tried to kill—”

  “There you are.” They jumped at the voice of the man standing in the doorway. Paul’s stomach knotted when he recognized him as the man from the storage area. His eyes were two black orbs, locked onto Alyssa with a predator’s unwavering attention. He nodded at the crystal and stretched out his hand.

  “I’ll have that now,” Gavriel said.

  Alyssa pulled the crystal closer to her chest.

  “I’ve had a long day and am not in the mood for games,” Gavriel said.

  He pulled out a sinister looking pistol and pointed it at Alyssa.

  Clay flipped on the light switch and strolled into the center of the virtual reality lab. The circular area was enclosed by a padded, chest-high railing. An articulated arm above the center of the circle held a helmet attached to a large pair of goggles. Whistling softly, Clay ducked under the railing and stepped into the center. He pulled down the helmet, unhooked the connections, and carefully slid it into his backpack.

  He slung the pack over one shoulder and crossed the room to a large metal cabinet on the right-hand side of the room. He opened both doors of the cabinet and pulled out four drawers. He began digging through them, setting aside numerous cables and silver antistatic bags containing electronic cards, before placing them into his backpack.

  Clay turned to the metal shelves that lined the entire back wall of the room. “And here is the Grand Poobah,” he muttered.

  He picked up a heavy box from a shelf and gently deposited it into the duffle bag then started going through the list in his mind, mentally checking off the items: VR set, LIDAR, spare CCDs, cables, power cells—

  “There you are.”

  Startled by the strange voice in the adjoining room, Clay ducked and crawled to the door.

  He stifled a yelp when he spotted a menacing man pointing a pistol at Alyssa. Clay’s gaze swept the room, his mind racing. He paused then locked his fingers around the laser pointer in his pocket.

  Paul stared at the weapon that was pointed at Alyssa.

  “Alyssa,” he whispered, fighting off the panic rising in his chest.

  “I won’t ask again,” Gavriel said.

  A green dot appeared out of nowhere on the wall behind the man an instant before Paul spotted Clay’s head poking out of the door of the research lab. Clay pointed with his finger to the laser pointer then the crystal. Paul’s skin tingled with understanding.

  “Give him what he wants,” he said to Alyssa.

  “That’s a smart boy,” Gavriel said condescendingly.

  Alyssa scowled at Paul. He kept her gaze, his lips tight. He could read the conflict in her face, her distrust of him battling within her. Finally, she sighed dejectedly then handed the crystal to Gavriel.

  “All that for a shiny paperweight,” Gavriel said, eyeing the crystal.

  “If you look close, you can even see the images,” Paul said. Alyssa shot him a quizzical look.

  “What images?” Gavriel brought the crystal to his face. He stared into it.

  “Alyssa,” Paul’s voice was tense, “remember, the images.”

  Alyssa’s face was a mirror of her confusion.

  “The images!” Paul called out and clos
ed his eyes tightly.

  Alyssa gasped and squeezed her eyes shut. A second later Clay fired the laser into the crystal.

  The room flared into an incandescent, green glow. Gavriel howled in agony and fell to his knees as the laser bounced off the internal facets of the crystal and reflected into his eyes, burning his retinas. He raised his arms, desperately trying to shield himself from the searing beams.

  Paul roared as he covered the ten feet to the door in a single leap and plowed headfirst into the other man. The force of the impact drove them through the door into the corridor, and slammed them both to the floor, knocking the crystal and pistol out of Gavriel’s hands.

  “Go!” Paul bellowed to Alyssa, scrambling to untangle himself from Gavriel.

  Alyssa dashed for the crystal and scooped it up. She turned and held out her other arm to Paul. He grasped it and she hauled him to his feet a second before Clay charged into the corridor, sporting a backpack and a duffel bag in each hand. He froze and stared at Gavriel writhing on the floor.

  “Elevator—now!” Paul yelled and pushed Alyssa ahead of him toward the open doors at the end of the corridor. He grabbed Clay by his backpack and pulled him along.

  They flew into the elevator at full speed, drenched in cold sweat. Paul jabbed the button for the parking garage. They stared back into the hallway.

  Gavriel dragged himself to his feet. He lumbered toward the pistol. He stumbled, reaching for it, then tried again and managed to clutch it with his right hand, his left still covering his eyes. He turned to them just as the elevator doors began to close. He dropped to one knee and lifted the weapon.

  “Look out!” Alyssa screamed. She jumped to one side. Paul and Clay flattened their bodies against the other wall.

  The bullets flew wide and smashed into the wall next to the elevator. The closing doors absorbed the next round. An eternity later, the cabin started its downward drift.

  Clay stood perfectly still. His lips moved, but no sound came out.

  “He was shooting at us,” he finally uttered. The next sentence crescendoed into a frantic scream. “That guy had a gun and was shooting at us. Those bullets were aimed at my arse!”

  “Get a hold of yourself.” Paul grabbed his shoulder. “There could be more of them.” He glanced at the display flashing the floor numbers as the elevator descended.

  Fourth floor.

  Clay’s face turned into a mask. He stared at the wall behind Paul. His chest rose and fell in rapid breaths, but he remained silent.

  Third floor.

  Alyssa tried to keep her voice flat. “Do you have a car?” she asked Paul.

  “I’m an intern… at the WHO… I ride the tube.” He nodded at Clay. “His old man does. Bomb one, too.”

  Second floor.

  He turned to Clay. “You want to show Alyssa your smartphone trick?”

  Clay continued staring at the wall, frozen. “Sixteen years old, never even been to New York City…” he muttered.

  First floor.

  Paul squeezed Clay’s arm. “The car!”

  Clay yanked his arm away. “Are you bloody crackers? My father would disown me!”

  Basement.

  “I bet Alyssa would love to see the trick.” Paul said, ignoring him. “She’d be quite impressed.” He glanced at Alyssa. “Isn’t that right?”

  Alyssa gawked at Paul for a moment, perplexed, then nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Yes. Yes, totally. I would love to see your phone trick, Clay.”

  Parking garage.

  Paul grabbed the front of Clay’s shirt. “Now, mate!”

  Clay flinched. His eyes focused and he fumbled in his pockets. He fished out a smartphone.

  Paul glanced at Alyssa. “He figured out how to use his phone to hack into his old man’s car.”

  The elevator stopped and they flattened against the wall. The trio stood glued to the sides of the cabin, holding their breaths as the doors slid open. After two heartbeats, Paul peeked out.

  “Looks clear,” he whispered. “Go!”

  They bolted through the garage past a row of parked cars.

  “Where is it?” Paul asked, between heavy breaths, as they tore through the garage.

  Clay hit a button on his phone. A moment later they heard a chirp and saw the lights flash on a black Porsche 911 parked between a blue Ford hatchback and a silver Volvo.

  Alyssa’s eyes lit up. She sprinted for the car, ripped open the driver’s side door and dove in before Clay could object. Paul jumped into the back seat from the passenger side. Clay stood outside of the car, frozen.

  Alyssa turned to him and shouted, “Get in! I’ll drive—you tell me where to go!”

  “Wh-what?” he stammered.

  “You heard her,” Paul said. “Get in—now!”

  Clay opened his mouth to reply but was cut short by the thud of the stairwell door smashing into the wall. He jumped into the passenger seat and they all ducked down.

  Paul gingerly lifted his head and glanced out of the back window. He winced when he saw Gavriel stagger out of the stairwell. The man still looked dazed and steadied himself on the wall, but he surveyed the garage with a predatory stare.

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Clay whimpered.

  “We need to get out of here,” Paul whispered. “Get it started, Clay!”

  Paul held his breath as Clay typed on his phone. He watched Gavriel through the rear window, continuing to scan the parking garage. He was approaching their isle.

  “Come on… start her up…”

  “I’m trying! I’m trying!” Clay’s voice shook like a badly-tuned diesel engine.

  “Now, Clay,” Paul whispered, his voice strained, as Gavriel glanced into the silver Volvo parked next to the Porsche.

  The Porsche’s engine roared to life.

  “Who’s your daddy?” Clay shrieked.

  “Go!” Paul yelled a split second before Alyssa slammed the gear lever into reverse. The Porsche’s wheels squealed as Alyssa popped the clutch and slung the car out of the parking spot. Gavriel leaped out of the way, narrowly escaping the wide fender.

  Alyssa floored the accelerator and the car continued in reverse. Gavriel’s confusion lasted only an instant before he began chasing after the car. The staccato sound of the Porsche’s rev limiter echoed through the parking deck as they slowly outdistanced their pursuer.

  Alyssa steered with one hand, her neck craned over her shoulder, looking out the rear window. “Which way? Quickly!”

  Paul turned and stared at the wall at the end of the aisle, growing larger every second.

  “Left! Go left!” Clay’s frantic voice matched the panic in his eyes.

  Paul was thrown against the side of the cabin as Alyssa turned the car sharply. Suddenly, his head slammed against the back seat as Alyssa locked the brakes, barely avoiding crashing into another wall. She gave Clay a look.

  “No, no! Other left! Other left!”

  As Paul struggled to regain focus, Alyssa's hand grazed the gear lever and the engine revved just before she disengaged the clutch again. The car lurched forward, leaving behind two parallel lines of rubber on the concrete floor.

  Paul stared through the windshield at Gavriel standing in the middle of the aisle, blocking their path. Slowly, the man raised his pistol and took aim at the Porsche when a security car, sirens blaring, appeared from a side aisle and screeched to a stop behind him. A guard leaped out, pistol drawn.

  Gavriel spun and slowly put his hands up in the air. Paul locked eyes with the security guard, who took his attention off Gavriel for an instant as the Porsche sped past both men. Paul gasped at the sound of the gunshot and the security guard’s fatal mistake before the man collapsed to the ground. Gavriel pointed the weapon at the Porsche again.

  “Turn!” Paul yelled, before he ducked behind the rear seat. “Get down!”

  Alyssa hit the brakes hard, just barely keeping them from locking up. Paul heard the soft chirping of the rubber on the concrete. She released the brakes and turne
d the car smoothly into an aisle on the right at the same time the shots rang out behind them.

  “Can I get out this way?” Her voice sounded strangely calm.

  “Right at the end of this aisle then straight,” Clay replied. “Follow the exit sign up to the street level."

  The Porsche slowed hard and Paul was pushed against the left side as the car turned right. Alyssa accelerated confidently through the apex of the turn, her driving smooth and controlled. Paul shot her a glance. Her moves were a picture of efficiency as they raced past rows of parked cars on either side of them. I’m sure glad she knows what she's doing.

  He heard and saw the police car simultaneously as it drifted into the aisle thirty yards behind them. The tires of the heavy sedan screamed, struggling to keep the rear from smashing into the parked cars. The car accelerated hard toward them. Gavriel leaned out of the driver’s seat and fired his weapon. The bullets exploded into the concrete supports less than ten feet from the Porsche.

  Paul looked ahead, staring at the arrows pointing left toward the exit several aisles ahead of them. The Porsche continued to accelerate. The aisles were flying by them on their left, to the right a concrete wall and cars. He glanced back again. The other car had almost closed the gap. Gavriel took aim, determined not to miss this time.

  “Turn left!” Clay yelled.

  “Are you sure?” Alyssa asked.

  “Turn!”

  Paul felt himself fly forward as Alyssa squeezed the brakes hard at the last instant and slowed the car just enough to make the turn into the exit aisle. He heard the on-off-on squeal of the antilock system of the police car behind them as the wide tires of the heavy sedan strained to obey the driver's instructions to follow the Porsche. But he carried too much speed and flew past the exit aisle.

  Paul glanced back and saw Gavriel struggling to maintain control before he stabilized the car and turned hard into the next aisle left. He was now racing parallel to the Porsche, a row of parked cars separating them. Gavriel leaned out and fired several shots. A bullet shattered the rear side window.