by Logan Ryles
The second guy wasn’t so easy. He’d cleared most of the dirt from his eyes, and he still held the knife. The man took a step back, brandishing the knife with a wolfish grin. Wolfgang lowered his head and charged, smashing into the guy’s sternum and hurling him backward. It was a calculated move designed to shield his face and neck, but the man still swung, and the knife clipped Wolfgang’s shoulder blade. His attacker made a frantic attempt to fend off the headbutt, but as Wolfgang’s skull collided with the man’s sternum, the air rushed from his lungs, and he stumbled back with a grunt.
They hit the ground, both tripping over scattered trash in the alley as the knife clattered to the dirt. That was a win, at least, but Wolfgang was thirty pounds lighter than his opponent, and this guy felt like the kind of man who didn’t mind killing somebody tonight.
Dirt and rocks flew as the two of them flailed. Wolfgang kicked, attempting to prevent his attacker from rolling on top of him, but it was too late. A meaty fist struck him in the shoulder, deadening his arm and causing him to lose his grip on his opponent’s shirt. Then the man struck again, this time smacking Wolfgang across the jaw. His head snapped against the packed dirt of the alley floor, and the world spun. In the distance, he heard the scrabbling of another fight from the mouth of the alley, then Megan cried out in muted pain. He could only hope she wasn’t being slashed to shreds by the knife.
Wolfgang spat blood and twisted his head just in time to dodge a second blow from his attacker. His mind swam, but he imagined he could see the bloodthirst in his assailant’s eyes—the animalistic hunger of a violent man ready to kill.
Wolfgang twisted and shot up with his right hand, grabbing the man by the cheek and shoving his right thumb into the man’s eye. He pressed with full force, and the man reared back in pain, struggling to break free. Wolfgang pushed harder, then shot his hips upward. The dislodged thug rolled backward, jerking his head and frantically trying to protect his eye. Wolfgang followed, rolling on top of him and lifting his hand to deliver a throat punch. His opponent, in spite of the blood streaming from his left eye, was faster. He shoved out with both hands and hit Wolfgang in the chest, slamming him against the wall of a nearby building. Wolfgang’s head cracked against the bricks. Waves of dizziness and disorientation washed over him, and he suddenly wasn’t sure which way was up. He couldn’t move.
The guy got up and reached into the folds of his black robe. A moment later, steel flashed in the moonlight—another knife. Wolfgang coughed and tried to move, but the dizziness weighed him down as though he were underwater and steadily sinking.
Tires ground against the pavement, and headlights shone into the alley. The guy with the knife looked up, and fear flooded his face, then he turned and bolted away from the car. Wolfgang coughed and twisted toward the light.
The 4Runner sat at the end of the alley, headlights blazing. Wolfgang blinked in the glare and then saw Megan lying on her back. The first attacker straddled her with his forearm pressed against her windpipe, bearing down on her. She thrashed and tried to break free, but to no avail.
Wolfgang choked and stumbled to his feet, lurching toward her. Before he’d moved two yards, Kevin appeared from the 4Runner. He bolted across the alley and grabbed the attacker by the scruff of the neck. With one powerful heave, Kevin hauled him up and threw him against the wall, pinning him there with his feet dangling and his nose crushed into the brick.
Kevin’s eyes blazed, the muscles rippling beneath the stretched skin of his arms. Then he cocked his right arm back and delivered a lightning blow to the back of the man’s head. Bone crunched against brick as the man’s face caved in, and then his lifeless body crumpled to the dirt.
Wolfgang swallowed, catching himself against the wall. He felt the urge to puke as he stared at the flattened and mangled features. Kevin shot him a glare, then turned quickly and bent over Megan.
Megan lay on the ground, gasping for breath and gently massaging her throat. Kevin bent over her and started to scoop her up like a child.
Megan brushed him off. “What did you do?” she said. “You killed him, you moron!”
Kevin frowned, confusion and anger crossing his face. “Killed him? Killed who?”
“The book thief, you fool!” Megan picked herself up, still rubbing her throat.
Pollins.
Wolfgang remembered the doctor and turned back down the alley. Pollins lay slumped against one wall, the bottom half of her shirt torn open and her head rolled to one side. Blood oozed through blonde hair, and Wolfgang broke into a run.
“I had to kill him!” Kevin spluttered. “He was gonna kill you!”
“Not once you threw him off me. Dammit, Kevin!”
Wolfgang ignored them and felt for Pollins’s pulse. It was pounding. He tilted her head back and checked her face against the image on his phone. It matched perfectly, even with her eyes closed and her cheeks pale.
He rubbed her wrists, then gently massaged her temples. “Wake up, doctor. You’re safe now.”
Pollins groaned, then blinked slowly. Her eyes were the same crystal blue as in the photograph, but now bloodshot and strained by panic.
“Where . . . where am I?”
“You’re okay, doctor. You’re safe now.”
Wolfgang offered her a warm smile.
Pollins’s brow wrinkled. “Doctor?”
He nodded. “Yes. You’re a historian, remember? You study Egypt.”
Pollins stared at Wolfgang, still blinking, then she twisted, and Wolfgang saw something on the ground next to her. It was a small leather passport cover, stamped with a British flag on the face. He picked it up as Kevin and Megan continued to argue.
“We’ll never find them, now,” Megan growled. “You better hope that scroll is around here someplace.”
“It’s not,” Wolfgang said.
The arguing ceased, and both of them looked his way.
“What do you mean?” Kevin snapped.
Wolfgang closed the passport. “I mean, these guys weren’t our book thieves, and this isn’t Amelia Pollins. It’s her twin sister, Ashley.”
The hotel room was warmer than the streets outside, with comfortable furniture and two king-size beds. They set Ashley Pollins on the end of one bed, and Kevin went to find her an ice pack and water while they waited for Edric and Lyle to arrive. Ten minutes later, Charlie Team gathered around Ashley, watching as she huddled at the end of the bed with an ice pack held to her temple.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” Edric asked.
Ashley’s eyes were wide with fear, but the disorientation had faded. She looked away and said nothing. Edric pulled up a chair, motioning for the others to give her some space. They retreated to the corner of the room, and Edric spoke quietly.
“Ma’am, I need you to talk to me. We’re looking for your sister.”
Ashley surveyed the small crowd, her focus coming to rest on Wolfgang, her apparent rescuer.
She chewed her lip a moment, then looked back at Edric. “Who are you?” She had a gentle British accent.
“We’re the good guys,” he said. “We’re here to help your sister.”
“What makes you think she needs help?”
“Doesn’t she?” Edric asked.
Ashley didn’t answer.
Edric patted her on the hand. “I’m very sorry about your mishap, ma’am. I saw the stamp in your passport. Looks like you’ve only been in Egypt for a couple weeks. Did you come to visit your sister?”
Ashley glanced around the room again, then nodded.
“You live in England, right?”
“Yes.”
“Are you and your sister close? I imagine you must be, being twins.”
A solitary tear slipped down her cheek.
“It’s okay, ma’am. You’re safe now. We won’t let anybody hurt you.”
“It’s not me,” she mumbled. “It’s Amelia.”
“So, she’s in danger?” Edric pressed. “They took her, didn’t they? Somebody took your sister.”
Ashley said nothing, but she met Edric’s gaze. Even from across the room, Wolfgang could see the truth in her eyes.
Edric nodded. “They took her, and they told you not to tell anybody. If you did, she’d be hurt.”
The truth was evident.
Edric sat back and folded his arms. For a while, he let the room fall into silence, then he nodded toward the others.
“This is Megan, Wolfgang, Lyle, and Kevin. I’m Edric. We work together.”
“You’re treasure hunters?” Ashley asked.
Edric cocked his head. “Why would you think that?”
Ashley’s cheeks flushed, and she looked away, but the cat was out of the bag.
“Ms. Pollins, we need you to tell us what you know. We’re not here about any treasure. We’re here to protect your sister.”
“You’re too late,” Ashley mumbled.
Edric placed a hand on Ashley’s arm, then gave it a gentle squeeze and waited until she faced him. When he spoke, his voice was soft but as solid as granite. “Ashley, I know they took your sister. And I know they said they’d hurt her if you got help. But these people are no match for us. We’re going to get your sister back, alive and unharmed. Okay? That’s my promise to you. I just need your help.”
Ashley chewed her thumbnail and surveyed the team again. “What do you need to know?”
6
Ashley Pollins spoke slowly at first, and then she seemed to cross a point of no return and gushed like a fire hydrant.
She lived in Manchester, and although she and Amelia were very close, they seldom saw each other since Amelia took the job at the Egyptian Museum. This year, Ashley had decided to take what she called a “long holiday” to visit her sister in Cairo for a couple months, but shortly after she arrived, Amelia had become engrossed in some special project that involved the Egyptian government. Ashley wasn’t sure of the specifics, but she knew it was secret, and she knew it involved something discovered in Libya. Amelia had also mentioned the discovery of a new tomb—perhaps of a pharaoh—but she wouldn’t say anything else.
“She spent a lot of time at the museum, and when she was home, she worked in her apartment,” Ashley explained. “She had photos of a document. She showed them to me, but of course I had no idea what I was looking at. It was some kind of scroll, with hieroglyphics on it. Amelia was trying to translate them. I knew it was important because whenever Amelia left the room, she locked the photos in a safe, even if she was just going to the bathroom. She was really paranoid about them being lost, I guess.”
According to Ashley, Dr. Pollins had labored on like that, obsessing over the project until yesterday, when guilt for her abandoned sister finally caught up with her and she took Ashley out for a night on the city. They went to dinner, saw a few sights, and were walking back to Amelia’s apartment when the attack came. Multiple men struck out of the shadows, pulling both Amelia and Ashley into the darkness. There was a struggle, but both women were heavily outmatched, and the next thing Ashley remembered was waking up in her sister’s office at the museum to the sound of the phone ringing. She answered it and heard a computerized voice on the other end.
“They told me not to get help or Amelia would be hurt,” Ashley sobbed. “They told me to stay in the office all day, then leave after dark and walk due east. No other direction. Just keep walking.”
Megan stepped across the room and patted Ashley on the back. She offered her some sleeping pills, repeated Edric’s promise to find Amelia, and advised her to get some sleep. Ashley took the pills and lay down, but didn’t close her eyes. They were wide with fear and heartbreak as she stared at the empty ceiling.
Charlie Team retired to the adjoining room and closed the door behind them. Edric poured himself a drink from the minibar and took a long sip, then Kevin was the first to break the silence.
“How the hell did we not know Pollins had a twin sister?” Kevin shot Lyle a stormy glare.
Lyle scrunched his nose. “How is that my fault?”
“Because you’re the wiz,” Kevin snapped. “Because you’re supposed to know things. Didn’t you hack her Facebook or something?”
Lyle’s back stiffened, but before he could object, Edric held up a hand.
“Enough. It doesn’t matter whose fault it was. Bottom line is that we should’ve known, and we didn’t. Now we move forward.” He took a swig of his drink, then cleared his throat. “What happened in the alley?” Everybody was quiet, and Edric turned to Kevin. “You killed a man?”
Kevin nodded, and Edric muttered a curse.
“That’s not great, Kevin. That’s not great at all.”
“It wasn’t our book thief,” Wolfgang said. “I think they were just thugs eager to rape a lost tourist.”
Megan nodded. “I agree. We searched the body and found nothing. The guy was underfed and covered with needle scars. My bet is, whoever kidnapped Amelia told Ashley to walk due east after nightfall because they knew she’d eventually be raped and killed. It’s a much cleaner way to get rid of a witness than killing her themselves.”
“I surmised as much,” Edric said. “Which means these guys are smart, as well as violent.”
Wolfgang rubbed his chin. “What about the photographs? Ashley said Amelia was studying pictures of the scroll. But we were told there were no pictures.”
Edric swirled his drink and frowned. “I know. And that worries me. The Egyptians had to know there were pictures, but they refused to supply them to us. They must be worried that we’d make a play at the treasure ourselves. Maybe that’s why Amelia kept them under lock and key.”
“That doesn’t make sense, either,” Megan said. “If they have images, why wouldn’t they simply deploy us to the site of the tomb to wait for the thieves? For that matter, they could simply secure the tomb. Sure, the scroll is historic, but I’m guessing they’re paying us much more to find it than it’s worth. And if they already know where the tomb is . . .”
Edric rubbed his lip but said nothing.
Wolfgang grunted. “There’s more to the story. Something the Egyptians aren’t telling us. Maybe there’s something on the scroll that isn’t visible in the pictures—the location of another tomb or other hidden artifacts. Regardless, our next step is obvious.”
Everybody looked his way, eyebrows raised.
Wolfgang held out his hands. “We have to go to Dr. Pollins’s apartment and retrieve the images. If they abducted her in public, we can assume the kidnappers didn’t know the location of her apartment, so the images are still there. If we can find them and have somebody translate them, we’ll know where to find the kidnappers. The scroll will lead us right to them.”
Edric swirled his drink again, then nodded. “I like it. Megan, go get the address.”
Megan slipped into the adjoining room and obtained the address before Ashley fell asleep. She returned a moment later, and Lyle punched it into a computer.
He grimaced. “Well, it’s not Fort Knox, but it’s damn close.” Lyle spun the computer around, and they all leaned in.
Amelia Pollins lived in a twenty-floor, high-security condominium tower on the eastern bank of the Nile. Her apartment was on the eighteenth floor, with a balcony facing the pyramids.
The complex was owned by a private company named IronGate that specialized in providing secure living in dangerous cities around the world. According to their website, they prided themselves in twenty-four-hour security featuring armed guards, a complex check-in system for guests, and a full array of lobby, hallway, and elevator surveillance.
“I didn’t realize Cairo was that sketchy,” Lyle muttered.
“It’s not,” Edric said. “Cairo is actually a pretty safe place, Ashley Pollins’s attack notwithstanding. But many places in the Middle East aren’t safe at all, and I’d imagine Cairo is a great place for IronGate to showcase their product to potential customers who deal in this part of the world.”
Lyle scratched his chin. “Whelp . . . Whatever the reason, it’s gon
na be a hell of a place to infiltrate. There’s no chance we just walk in like the pizza guy.”
“What about the elevator shaft?” Kevin asked, breathing whiskey breath over them.
Lyle shook his head. “I’ll have to find some blueprints to be sure, but now that I think of it, IronGate owned that tower in Johannesburg. Remember, from last year? There were motion sensors in the elevator shaft. These guys really aren’t joking.”
“Stairs?” Wolfgang asked.
Again, Lyle shook his head. “Cameras. And secure access doors.”
“So, we climb it from the outside,” Kevin said.
Lyle pulled up an image of the tower from the company’s website and zoomed in on the sleek surface of the exterior. The tower was round and encased in glass. Windows faced out on all sides, broken only by balconies that jutted out in an offset pattern, with the balconies of one floor slightly overlapping those of the floor directly beneath it.
“You’d have to climb the dead spaces in between the windows,” Lyle said. “The face is sheer glass, so it’d be slick. Also, you can’t climb straight up because of the way the balconies overlap. You’d have to shift back and forth, avoiding open windows where somebody might see you. It’d take a while . . . a couple hours. And no offense, but are any of you in that kind of shape?”
Silence. Wolfgang rubbed his temple with one finger and stared at the tower. Then he glanced at Megan and sized her up from head to toe. When he looked back at Lyle, he saw a smirk playing at the corners of the tech wizard’s lips.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” Wolfgang asked.
Lyle grinned. “I believe so. And it just might work.”
“Aw, screw this,” Megan snapped. “I’m not doing it.”
She folded her arms, staring at the drone where it lay behind the van. The eight-bladed flying monster was a full ten feet across when fully constructed, and it vibrated as desert wind tore through downtown Cairo. They were parked on a quiet street two blocks from Amelia Pollins’s condominium tower, and Lyle held out a rappelling harness to Megan.
