by Tom Hunter
I know,” Shafira agreed. “I feel overwhelmed by it all, but after that assassin attacked me, I knew I needed help and you were the only person I knew I could trust. I know that between us we’ll find the proof we need to get the authorities involved. They can take it from there. Please, Josh? You’d do it if Yusuf asked.”
“I don’t know that I would,” Josh grumbled. “But all right. I’ll help you. I just need to make a call first.”
For the first time since she’d witnessed the murder, Shafira could finally relax a little as Josh dialed his boss.
“Hey, Daniel,” he greeted. “I know that I’m supposed to be ferrying around that team in Alexandria, but I’m going to have to take some last minute leave… I know, I know, it’s really short notice and I’m sorry for the inconvenience, but when did I last take a vacation? … I don’t know how long. But I promise I’ll be back as soon as I can. You know me. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important… Thanks, Daniel. I really appreciate it.”
Josh hung up and turned to Shafira. “Looks like you got yourself a pilot. I guess that you’ll finally get up close and personal with one of those excavations you’ve always been so curious about.”
“Thanks, Josh.” Shafira threw herself at the Josh, giving him a big hug. “I owe you big time.”
“Yes, you do,” Josh smiled.
“How soon can we leave?” Shafira asked.
“Just as soon as we get to my helicopter.” Josh grabbed his keys. “Come on. I’ll drive us to the heliport. If someone is after you, they’ll be watching out for your car. Hopefully we can buy a bit more time by switching vehicles.”
Shafira hurried after him, grateful that she wasn’t on her own anymore.
Thirty
Samuel ducked inside his tent, holding open the flap for the Director and Basile to follow.
Basile looked around, nodding his approval at Samuel behind the Director’s back at the sight of a tidier tent. The table had been cleared so they had room to work, and the tent looked organized--as long as one didn’t look too closely.
Haisam gazed disdainfully around the tent.
“They say a messy workspace is a sign of a creative mind,” joked Samuel, noticing the Director’s reaction. “You should have been here a week or so ago. I was really creative then. I’ve tidied up a bit in honor of your visit.”
“I keep telling him to sort the place out,” Basile told the director. “You’re lucky–he’s actually made an effort for you.”
“Then it is a good job I wasn’t here a week ago, isn’t it?” sneered Haisam. “Now why doesn’t one of you fetch a map so we can determine exactly where we’re going? I don’t really want to spend any longer here than absolutely necessary. I have important business to take care of back at the Ministry and every minute we’re here costs the Ministry money.”
“Of course.” Samuel pulled out his geoscanner, placing it in the middle of the table and hitting the button that projected a 3D image of the area. “This is where we are now.” He pointed at one section of the map. Then, with a swipe of his hand, the parched sandy-brown terrain scrolled. “And this is where the cave is.”
Director Haisam squinted and stroked his chin thoughtfully. Then he turned to Samuel. “We leave now in my VTOL.”
“Uhh, okay,” Samuel said uncertainly.
“Now remind me again. Who was with you when you found the cave?” asked Haisam.
“Josh, the pilot, of course, and Nafty, another one of my team.”
“And what did this Nafty think of the cave? Did he agree with your decision to wait for backup?”
“No. He wanted to see what was inside,” Samuel admitted. “I was the one who insisted on coming back first.”
“In that case, I think we should invite Nafty to join us,” Haisam decided. “It seems only fair, no?”
“It would be useful to have someone else there who has an idea of what to expect,” Samuel agreed. “And I’m sure Nafty would jump at the chance to investigate further. Basile, could you go and tell Nafty to join us? I think he’s on guard duty with Waleed.”
“Bien sur,” Basile nodded, as he headed out to tell Nafty the good news. Samuel and Director Haisam halted.
“Waleed was a member of our crew who decided that he would be better off trying to rob me instead of earning an honest wage,” Samuel explained to the Director. “He could have sabotaged the entire excavation if we hadn’t managed to stop him. We’ve got him restrained in one of the storage tents until we can transport him back to Cairo to face the authorities. Maybe you could take him back on your plane with you? I’m sure the Ministry takes a dim view of anyone who tries to steal from one of your digs.”
“These matters are none of my concern,” the Director replied curtly. “Site security is your remit.”
“Fair enough,” Samuel shrugged. “So what are your responsibilities at the Ministry? Do you frequently come out to visit dig sites?”
“Mr. McCarthy, the nature of my work at the Ministry does not concern you,” snapped Haisam. “It is irrelevant to your research and you are answerable to me, not the other way round. It would be better if you were to confine your thoughts to the nature of your latest discovery instead of wasting energy on small talk and petty thieves. For example, have you come up with any theories as to how ancient engineers could have constructed the doors concealed in the cave?”
“I have a few,” Samuel replied, while turning over the Director’s seemingly self-contradictory response in his mind. “Obviously, Basile is the true expert when it comes to engineering, but when you sit back and look critically at the construction, although the door mechanism is highly sophisticated, it’s based on sound engineering principles that those who built it would have understood given other structures we’ve analyzed. Of course, we still don’t know a great deal about a lot of ancient construction. We haven’t solved the mystery of how they built Stonehenge, for example, and attempts to recreate the transportation of the stones using the techniques that we do know about have failed to even come close to success.
“It is possible that this is an example of the ancients knowing far more than we give them credit for. Scholars have been arguing for a long time that we underestimate their ability and this could be the proof they need. It might simply be that this is the first time such an impressive construction has survived but it would have been by no means the only example at the time. Alternatively, the doors might be ancient, but the cloaking mechanism itself could be a later addition when smugglers decided that they could use such an isolated hiding place.”
“I see.”
An awkward silence descended as Samuel ran out of things to say to the taciturn Director. He’d never been so relieved to see Basile as when he returned to the tent.
“Is Nafty excited about coming?” Samuel asked.
“He probably would be if I could find him,” Basile replied. “As far as I can make out, the last time anyone saw him he was loading supplies in the main relics’ tent, but it’s been a few hours before anyone can confirm they spoke to him.”
Samuel tapped his fingers in the table as he thought about where Nafty could be. The man he’d disturbed in the storage tent was of a similar build. Now that he thought about it, it was entirely possible that Nafty was the person he’d chased into the dunes.
He kept his thoughts to himself, however, as the Director sighed with impatience, checking his watch.
“I’m sorry, Director Haisam,” Samuel apologized. “It would appear that Nafty is busy elsewhere on the site. Would you like us to look further for him before we leave? He’s bound to be around somewhere.”
“It is of no consequence.” The Director waved him away. “We’ll just have to cope without this Nafty’s insights.”
“Would you like me to come along instead?” offered Basile. “I understand civil and structural engineering better than anyone in the camp. I may be able to help you determine the provenance of the various technologies at the cave.”
“Even if we manage
to find Nafty, I think Basile should accompany us regardless,” Samuel told the Director, in a last-ditch effort. “His input would be invaluable. If there are any traps waiting for us, Basile is most likely to spot them before we trigger anything deadly.”
The Director thought for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. Basile may come along.”
Haisam strode out of the tent, leaving Samuel to gather together a few things.
“Here’s my radio equipment and Bluetooth,” he told Basile, showing him the communication devices before placing them in his backpack. “If you need it, the comm code is 47582-b.”
“Why would I need the code?” frowned Basile. “I’m going to be with you.”
“We might get separated,” Samuel explained. “I want to make sure that we can keep in touch with each other. Director Haisam might be from the Ministry, but he’s not exactly the most touchy-feely person I’ve ever met and there’s something about him that doesn’t feel right. I’d feel more secure knowing that you’ve got my back rather than trusting to some stranger.”
“Oui, oui,” nodded Basile. “That makes sense. Give me the matching commset.”
Basile jotted down the code, storing it safely in his jacket pocket before picking up the other commset.
“I’ve got a long range radio as well,” Samuel told him. “The code’s the same. Now are you ready to go and see what’s buried in that cave?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” grinned Basile.
Thirty-One
As the desert slipped by below the VTOL, Samuel turned to his right, cupped his hands up to Basile’s ear, and said, “So what do you think about our man from the Ministry?”
“Pah!” Basile shook his head. Both men swiveled their heads so Basile could now talk directly into Samuel’s ear without being overheard by the Director in the row in front of them, over the drone of the engines. “He reminds me of all the reasons why I never want to work in an office. I’d rather have sand in my pants than deal with people like him. I’ve had results-based managers before and they’re always obsessed with micro-managing me instead of recognizing that I know more about engineering than they could ever hope to comprehend. You wait; I bet he’ll try to tell us how we should explore the cave instead of leaving it to the experts.”
“He’s not exactly the friendliest of people, is he?” Samuel agreed. “Do you think maybe he’s stressed about what we might find when we go through the doors? Perhaps he’s never had to face smugglers in real life and doesn’t want to get caught up in a gunfight.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of bringing so many armed men?” Basile pointed out. “They take the bullets so we don’t have to. Maybe the good Director doesn’t like leaving the comfort of his air conditioned office, but that’s no excuse for rudeness. We should be working as a team. For all he knows, we could be about to open the doors to priceless artifacts. Surely that’s something to get excited about?”
“Unless it’s already been stolen,” Samuel pointed out. “Speaking of thieves, did you get a chance to speak to Waleed before we left?”
“I did,” Basile confirmed. “He’s sticking to his story. If it’s not true, he’s a darned good liar. Still, that’s not our problem. I’ve left a couple of my assistants in charge of him, so he’ll be fed and cared for until we can send him back with the Director when we return from this expedition.”
“Don’t you think it’s strange that the Director didn’t want to know more about him?” Samuel remarked. “I mean, I told him that Waleed could have sabotaged the entire expedition and he didn’t seem to care.”
“Maybe he thinks that it wasn’t worth bothering about?” Basile suggested. “After all, we have him under lock and key. How much harm can one man do on his own?”
“I suppose.” Samuel frowned, then shrugged. “Oh well. It’s not down to me to question how the Director does his job. I’m going to get some rest while we wait for the sun to lower a little more. Not long now and we’ll have the answer to what really is hiding in that cave.” He turned to look outside, and then back to Basile. “We’re coming in a little lower now.”
“You told them not to land right at the cave, right?” Basile said.
“Yes, I was most emphatic. Two hundred yards south, minimum. Don’t want a repeat of my first near crash landing there.”
The featureless terrain came up to meet them, and the machine was soon on the ground, its extra wide tires keeping it comfortably “afloat” on the sea of sand. Samuel leaned over Director Haisam’s shoulder, to check the GPS coordinates on the aircraft’s display. “There it is. The cave.” Samuel beamed, spreading his arms wide to indicate their final destination, as the doors slid open and the suffocating, hot desert air filled the cabin.
“Are you sure?” Director Haisam frowned. “It doesn’t look any different to the rest of the desert.”
“Oh, I’m very sure,” Samuel assured him.
“If you’re right, that cloaking device is incredible,” breathed Basile. “It just looks like another dune. If it were anyone other than you, I’d think you were nuts. How on earth did you figure out this was the right location?”
“That’s why they pay me the big bucks,” Samuel grinned. “If I didn’t have years of experience and training, there’s no way I could have deciphered the map that led me here, but trust me. This is where we need to be. Come on. See for yourself.”
The Director and Basile looked at each other, then decamped from the VTOL and strode forward. They hadn’t gone far before they disappeared. Even the usually unflappable soldiers couldn’t help but be impressed.
Basile reappeared, beckoning to Samuel and the rest of the team. “You guys need to see this.”
Samuel hurried after his friend, enjoying the reactions to his discovery as the soldiers followed close behind.
“Isn’t it amazing?” he said to Basile, but the engineer shook his head, frowning. “Look. Over there.”
“Uh-oh.” Samuel’s heart sank. He saw a number of desert striders, trucks that had been specially adapted to traveling across the sand dunes by the additional of four powerful hydraulic legs.
“I guess it’s a smuggler’s den after all,” Basile sighed. “Sorry, Samuel. I know how much you were looking forward to unearthing the find of the century. We’ll just have to step back and let the soldiers do their job.”
“There’s still a chance that there’s something ancient in that cave,” Samuel replied. “The question is whether we can get to it.”
“Don’t worry,” said Director Haisam. “This is why we brought an armed guard. Whoever it is that thinks they can take advantage of an important Egyptian monument for their own nefarious purposes, we’ll soon teach them a lesson they’ll never forget. Gord! Take a couple of men with you and check out the vehicles.”
“Yes, sir.” Gord snapped to attention, gesturing to a couple of soldiers to come with him as they went to inspect the desert striders. The rest stood by as they examined the vehicles from all angles. Once they were satisfied that the desert striders weren’t booby trapped, they started opening up the storage units and taking out some crates that had been placed inside.
“Don’t open those,” Samuel called out, hurrying over to intervene, closely followed by Basile and Director Haisam. “They might contain artifacts. They’ll need special handling to make sure the contents aren’t damaged. That’s assuming that whoever dug them up hasn’t already irreparably harmed them. There’s no guarantee that they have any training in how to handle ancient relics.”
“The engines are cool,” Gord told Samuel. “Whoever drove here, they’ve been here for awhile.”
“They must still be inside the cave,” Samuel replied. “I suggest you put some men on guard while Basile and I look through the crates to see what’s been retrieved from the cave. Basile, you’ve learned enough through being on digs with me to help me take a preliminary look at what we’ve got. If it turns out to be smuggler’s goods, we let the guards deal with them.”
> Samuel pulled a pack of latex gloves from his pocket, peeling off a pair for Basile before putting on some himself. “Start with the crates you find in that strider. I’ll look through these ones.”
“Oui,” Basile nodded, as Samuel took out his Swiss army knife and used it to pry open the nearest crate.
“Well, well, well,” murmured Samuel as he saw what was inside. “The plot thickens.”
Carefully, he picked up a scroll that was at the top of the crate, whistling as he unrolled it to read what it says. “Director, you might want to come look at this.”
“What is it?” The Director’s face was inscrutable as he leaned over to see what Samuel had found.
“I’ll need to test the parchment to be certain, but unless this is an exceptional forgery, this scroll is of ancient origin. It would appear that whoever drove these striders here came to the cave with the explicit purpose of looting. We got here just in time. Egypt could have lost something truly valuable.”
Carefully placing the scroll back in the crate to keep it safe for transportation, Samuel’s concentration was broken by an ear splitting scream.
“Basile?” Samuel raced over to his friend’s side. “Are you all right?”
“Vous ne m'avez pas dit que nous aurions affaire à des corps. C'est trop. Je ne peux pas faire face à ça. Ramenez-moi à la fouille en ce moment. Je veux juste sortir d'ici.”
The Frenchman spoke too fast for Samuel to be able to follow what he was saying, but when he saw what was inside the large crate he’d just opened, Samuel paled, his blood turning to ice in his veins.
“Nafty!”
His former colleague was lying in a long, coffin-like crate, laid out with his arms crossed against his chest as if he were a mummy.
“Do you know this man?” The Director came to stand next to Samuel, gazing down at the body with a disdainful look.
“Yes,” Samuel confirmed. “This is Nafty, the man I told you about. He was with me when I first discovered the cave. He must have come here to try and loot the cave ahead of us, although I didn’t tell him how to open the doors. The fact that whoever he was working with has started removing relics raises all sorts of questions. Unless these have come from another nearby site. So many unanswered questions…”
