Death of a Pharaoh (15 page)

Ryan turned to
watch Ethan scramble up the steep shore then felt Zach tugging on the sleeve of
his dripping DOC overalls. When he looked to see what he wanted all of the men
were down on one knee with their heads bowed.

“I think they must
be praying,” Zach observed.

“They are not
praying, my Lord,” Ethan clarified, “they bow to their future King.” He too
dropped to one knee and lowered his head.

Zach whistled in
amazement followed by an eloquent, “Holy Shit!”

Ryan knew his life
was about to change dramatically.

“My Lord Pharaoh,
quickly get into these dry clothes. We must not delay,” the leader of the team
announced, “a jet is waiting for you at Sullivan County Airport. It will take
us thirty minutes to get there.”

“We have to be in
the air before the fire is extinguished and the prison does a count,” Ethan
explained.

It took them less
than a minute to change. Once in the vehicle, Ryan almost melted into the soft
luxurious leather of the upholstery. His head still ached but he wasn’t certain
whether it was the migraine or the excitement of the escape.

Zach offered him two
pills and a bottle of water. “These will help.”

“Thanks,” he said
then added, “for everything.”

Ethan smiled and
turned to talk to the agent in the passenger seat in front.

Ryan closed his
eyes. The pain diminished a bit as the medicine slowly entered his bloodstream.
As the adrenaline subsided, he fell asleep and for the first time in weeks, he
didn’t have a nightmare.

The flight to Philadelphia International Airport took exactly one hour.
The pilot taxied the Lear jet directly into the Atlantic Aviation hangar and
parked beside three vehicles surrounded by half a dozen security agents who
looked like they shopped at the same clothing store as the team that escorted
them to Sullivan County Airport. They all wore radio earpieces and talked into
their sleeves just like on TV. When Ryan deplaned, the deference was more
discreet since there were employees of the handling agent working in the
hangar. A black man stood ramrod straight in front of the limousine. He wore a
tan leather jacket, brown pants and looked to be in his early fifties. Ryan
recognized his face.

“Hello Mr. Lewis,
the last time we met you saved my life.”

“It was my duty,
my Lord. Besides, if I hadn’t then the last few days would have been far less
exciting.”

Ryan grinned and
turned to introduce Zach.

“Zach, this is my uncle,
Herbert Lewis.”

They both smiled
at their inside joke and Herbert Lewis noted the easy complicity between the
two of them. He had been wary at first of Nkosana bringing his cellmate along.
After all, he tried to kill his stepfather twice. Still, after spending almost
a year together in prison, Nkosana would already know all his secrets and if he
trusted him then so would the foundation. He would be under tremendous pressure
in the coming days and having a good friend at his side might be beneficial.

“My Lord, it is
late and there is still work to do,” he motioned to the car.

“I took the
liberty of arranging a television so that you could see the results of the
escape. It is breaking news on CNN.”

Ryan and Zach sat
side-by-side facing front while Mr. Lewis grabbed the remote and turned on the
set. The motorcade pulled ahead but none of them noticed; mesmerized by the
images on the screen. The film crew must have shot the video about an hour
after the operation started, since it was still light.

The extent of the
destruction amazed Ryan. The camera panned from the crumpled skeleton of the
water tower to the ruptured gas line that still burned in multiple spots. A
huge swath of blackened, smoldering forest extended from both sides. Further to
the south, the viewers could appreciate just how close the flames came to the
eastern cellblocks while crews struggled to extinguish a large fire still
raging on the other side of Frank Brown Road; although it didn’t seem to
threaten the prison. A black helicopter, identical to the one that sprung them,
swooped into view and dumped a load of water on the far edge of the active
burn.

Suddenly, the
producer switched back to the studio and Ryan gawked at the mug shots of the
two of them over the right shoulder of the blonde announcer.

“Jesus Christ!”
Zach exclaimed.

“Can you turn it
up, please?” Ryan asked Mr. Lewis.

“Authorities are
now certain that what first appeared to be an explosion caused by a suspected
gas leak was actually a sophisticated paramilitary operation to free two
inmates from the nearby Sullivan Correctional Facility. A head count taken less
than thirty minutes ago revealed the two convicted felons, Ryan James Murphy
and Zachary Adams, somehow escaped in the confusion of the fire. One of the
prison’s Correctional Officers, with less than a year’s service, is also
missing and authorities are not yet certain whether the guard is a hostage or
an accomplice. The name of the guard has not been released by prison
officials.”

“First responders
recovered a large number of mortar shells in the woods surrounding the forest
and the preliminary investigation suggests that both the municipal water tower
and the main gas line to the prison were sabotaged with high explosives. The
rapid spread of the conflagration led to speculation that the perpetrators
employed incendiary rounds to fuel the fire and create the thick smoke that
aided in the escape of the two inmates.”

“Todd Smith is an
ex-marine who served in Afghanistan and a member of the Fallsburg Volunteer
Fire Department; he had this to say about what he witnessed on the ground.”

The camera
switched to a fireman in full gear, his face covered in soot. “I haven’t seen
this much ordinance since my last tour in Kandahar,” he told the reporter. “I
don’t know who those two cons are but they had major muscle behind them. This
was a high-tech operation,” he commented. “Wouldn’t want either of them showing
up in my backyard.”

The lady in the
studio returned.

“FBI and ATF
agents are on the scene and an all-points bulletin has been issued to police
departments across the country. Captain Paula Granger, the spokesperson for the
New York State Trooper department, tells CNN that roadblocks have been set up
throughout Sullivan and adjoining counties and they are confident that the fugitives
still remain within the security cordon.”

“Although FBI
officials are not yet ready to make a full statement to the press, sources
close to the investigation report that the agents on the ground are mystified
by the breadth and expense of the operation, worthy of a Hollywood blockbuster.
And all to free two young violent offenders, the oldest only eighteen, with no
known links to the mafia or terrorist organizations and without obvious
financial means to mount an operation that by all accounts would have cost
hundreds of thousands.”

“The FBI warns
that both men are considered armed and dangerous and should anyone see either
of the fugitives please call the number on your screen. The FBI earlier
announced a reward of one million dollars for information leading to the
apprehension of these individuals.”

“Wow, a million
bucks,” Zach exclaimed, “that’s a lot of dead presidents!”

“I guess this
means we can’t hit a McDonalds on the way into town?” Ryan asked.

“No problem, we’ll
use drive through,” Herbert Lewis suggested. “What would you like?”

Ryan blushed, “I
don’t have any money.”

“I think the
Foundation can afford it.”

“Can you make sure
Ethan gets something as well?” Ryan requested. “He must be hungry too!”

“Of course, my
Lord.”

After months of
prison food, the French fries rocked and Ryan watched in disbelief as Zach
devoured two cheeseburgers without stopping to take a breath.

When Zach noticed
Mr. Lewis and Ryan staring at him with looks of bemusement, he commented,
“What? I was too nervous to eat lunch today!”

After they
finished their food, Ryan turned to Herbert, “What happens now? We obviously
can’t be seen in public until this all dies down.”

“We have booked
you into the Presidential Suite of a luxury hotel downtown. We can access a
private elevator from the underground parking lot. My staff has already taken
steps so that the security cameras in the hotel won’t record either of you, but
as an added precaution I’ve gotten these hoodies for both of you to wear.” He
handed each of them one of the cotton garments.

“Your grandmother
had a condo in Cedar Park; the entire building is occupied by members of our
organization. Our agents have ascertained that it is under surveillance, by who
we do not yet know, but we suspect they are related to the people who ordered
her murder. That is why you cannot stay there. It is a two bedroom suite at the
hotel and you will both be comfortable there.”

Ryan wasn’t
thinking about the accommodation. He looked over at Herbert Lewis.

“What was my
grandmother like?”

“She was a
remarkable woman and I see much of her in you.”

Herbert Lewis
anticipated more questions and gently interrupted.

“My Lord, I think
it is best for her to speak for herself.”

Ryan didn’t
understand.

“Before she died
she left you a video that she gave to me and ordered that you should see it
right away if anything happened to her.”

“It is waiting for
you at the hotel. I know you must be tired but this task cannot wait. It is
important that you listen to her; it will make your decision easier.”

Ryan nodded in
agreement.

“There is only one
thing.”

Ryan looked at
him.

“Your real name is
Nkosana. It is what your father called you when he first presented you to the
Gods.”

“What does it
mean?”

“Prince, in Zulu a
language of South Africa. It was too risky to have people know you by your real
name so Ryan seemed a good substitute. In Irish it means ‘little king’. They
both foretell your destiny.”

Ryan glanced at
Zach who was sporting a smug ‘I told you so’ look on his face.

It was just one
more surprise that Ryan tried to assimilate. He rubbed his temples with his
fingers but it didn’t help.

“How is your
head?” Herbert asked as he offered Ryan some of the same pills Ethan had given
him over the past few days.

Ryan took two and
opened a bottle of water. “Think I’ll ever get used to all this ‘my Lord’
shit?” he asked swallowing the pills. “No offense.”

“None taken,” he
promised, “I know everything is happening very fast. This morning you woke up
in your cell in prison and now you are free and everyone is treating you like
royalty; literally. You must remember that our organization is an absolute
monarchy. We can never question the orders of the True Pharaoh. The only higher
authority is the Council of the Gods and someday you will stand before them as
an equal, a fellow God. Is it any wonder that men wish to bow before you?”

The private lift at the hotel only had one button with the letters PH.
Non-stop service; Ryan imagined this was how rock stars lived. The elevator
opened directly into the suite. It was huge. He had never seen such luxury.
Herbert patiently allowed both of them to soak it all in for a moment.

“Mr. Adams, an
agent will show you to your bedroom. I am certain you will want to take a
shower. We have purchased some clothing and I hope you will find everything
suitable. Ryan has some things to do but when he has finished you can have
dinner together here in the suite.”

Zach smiled at
Ryan, “Later, my little king.”

Herbert Lewis
guided Ryan to a reading room off the master bedroom. There was a large chest
on a table beside the desk. It looked very old. He offered Ryan a chair in
front of a laptop.

“I will leave you
to watch the video. It will answer many of your questions. The contents of the
box are part of your inheritance from your grandmother to do with as you wish.
There are some ancient artifacts, however, and although technically yours
they’re like the crown jewels for the Queen of England; nice to wear but she
can’t sell them.”

“I only steal
taxis,” Ryan confessed with a smile.

“I will be just
outside if you need any assistance.”

Herbert Lewis
bowed his head respectfully then quietly closed the sliding French doors.

Ryan looked at the
computer screen in front of him. He reached for the mouse, clicked the play
button on the video and sat back to meet his grandmother for the first time.

She looked younger
than he had imagined and had his nose. People would call her a handsome woman,
very dignified in appearance. She braided her grey hair in one long plait that
she wore wrapped around her head like Rosa Parks. The camera captured her in a
blue print dress sitting behind a desk in an elegant office. Ryan presumed it
to be at the Falcon Foundation. Framed photographs covered the wall behind her
and depicted her posing with various personalities. In just a few square feet,
he saw her standing beside Presidents Clinton and Obama, Nelson Mandela and the
Dalai Lama. Before he could identify more of the famous people, the camera
zoomed in on her face and she began to speak.

“My darling
Nkosana, if you are watching this video it is because I am no longer in this
world to tell you the things that you must know. You should not grieve for me
as there are many forms of life as well as death, and you will need all of your
strength and concentration for the difficult task ahead. When your mother died,
I decided to hide you from the world both for your safety but also to allow you
a chance for a normal life until this momentous day arrived. Please forgive me
for keeping so much from you. It was never my intention to deceive and
certainly not to abandon you. Find it in your heart to understand and to
forgive. Although you will not remember, I accompanied you during many important
moments of your life. I was there when you competed in karate tournaments and
when you graduated from middle school. I attended all of your debates, and even
when I couldn’t be near you, my people were. Every night I read a detailed
report about your day and at the end I would send you a kiss that I hoped you
would feel on some level.”

“Since the moment
I died, you have suffered terrible headaches and voices inside your head. You
may have also experienced strange dreams. The headache will go away as soon as
you voluntarily accept your destiny and the din will be something that you will
learn to control with time. Let me start from the beginning.”

“Historians tell
us that Cleopatra was the last Pharaoh of Egypt. In a sense they are right, for
she was the last one known to the world. For millennia, the Pharaoh had been
the only link between the Gods and humankind. Their most sacred role was to
keep Ma’at, the balance between good and evil, and to defend humanity before
the Council of the Gods when required. During the reign of Atenkamen, the
heretic King, the Gods resolved that the Pharaohs, more human than divine,
could no longer be trusted to put the importance of keeping Ma’at above
personal ambitions, power and the thirst for wealth.”

“They decided to
separate the spiritual and temporal responsibilities of the Pharaohs leaving
them with a throne but without the ability to deal directly with the Gods. They
appointed a Regent to carry out the spiritual duties, someone they trusted and
whom they knew would defend Ma’at with his very life. For almost a thousand
years, the Regency operated in parallel with the Pharaohs, secretly extending a
network of agents throughout the known world to labor in the defense of Ma’at.”

“The system served
the Gods well and they were pleased. When Cleopatra died, the deities met in
council and decided to reunite the spiritual and temporal powers in one single
person, who they called the True Pharaoh. By this time, the Servants of Ma’at
had spread across the ancient world from Athens to China, to the Celtic lands
in the north and even to South America long before the voyage of Columbus. The
treasures of the dead Pharaohs financed the enormous expenses. For centuries,
the Priests of Ma’at systematically looted the tombs of the earthly Pharaohs to
provide funding for the Regency.”

“Before long, the
Gods elected someone who was not Egyptian as True Pharaoh. His name was Jesus
of Nazareth and over the centuries, the identities of some of those who
followed him in the position will be very familiar to you.”

“In the early 19
^th
century, the True Pharaoh was a beloved Chieftain, a member of the ancient Akan
people, living in Gambia in Africa. He was the fifth generation of what had by
then become a hereditary dynasty based on certain paranormal skills that the
Gods discovered in the family two generations previously. Some of them
possessed an extraordinary ability to communicate by telepathy and a remarkable
barometer to sense good and evil in people. You share these same talents. The finding
was an important advancement for our cause as it greatly enhanced the ability
of the Pharaoh to defend the balance of Ma'at before the Council of the Gods.”

“In 1848, a band
of slave hunters captured the Pharaoh and brought him in chains to Cuba. As you
can imagine, it was a period of great confusion and anxiety for the Servants of
Ma’at. A Portuguese trader sold him to the owner of a tobacco plantation in
Virginia, despite the fact that the importation of slaves to the United States
was already illegal at that time. It took our agents almost two years to locate
the Pharaoh and to offer to bring him to safety. He refused and decided that
there had to be a reason that the Gods had brought him to America. He continued
to live in Virginia and eventually purchased his freedom from his former
owner.”

“When the Civil
War broke out, the Royal Council decided to relocate the Pharaoh and his family
to the north. During the journey, bounty hunters raided their camp with the
intention of returning them to slavery. A gunfight ensued. The Pharaoh died
defending his family. His beloved wife and a daughter perished as well. One of
the Pharaoh's security team saved his young son and fled to Canada through the
Underground Railway. From there they boarded a ship to England and eventually
on to Egypt where he was enthroned as Pharaoh when he turned eighteen, after a
regency of ten years. He elected to return to America at the age of 22. He
settled in Philadelphia and became a successful lawyer, one of the first to
fight for the rights of all former slaves. That man, Joshua Carter, was your
great, great, great grandfather.”

“When my father
died, I became Pharaoh and your mother would have succeeded me if she had lived
but the Gods had other plans for her. Nkosana, as the only remaining member of
the dynasty, the Royal Council will offer you the throne and the sacred duties
of the True Pharaoh. The task before you is fraught with peril, the balance of
good and evil has become increasingly difficult to maintain despite all of our
efforts. The Gods are losing their patience with humankind and the very future
of the world, as we know it, is in your hands. No one can force you to accept
this heavy responsibility, one that will change your life forever. Yet there is
no one else who possesses the special skills needed. If you should refuse to
assume your destiny, it could well mean the end of humanity on earth.”

“My darling, the
Servants of Ma’at have always been around you even if you did not realize it.
There are evil forces out there looking to control our power and perhaps they
are responsible for my own death. You may only trust the Servants of Ma’at.
They have all sworn to obey and to protect you. Chief Mbaye is my Vizier and
has counseled me for most of my rule. He will be responsible for your
investiture and at the same time, he is a trustee of the investment fund that
we use to finance our good works around the globe. He will be your teacher and
will provide you with the training necessary to be able to meet with the Gods
when the time comes; and I am afraid that it will not be long before they
demand your presence.”

“I know that this
video has probably raised more questions than it answers. Mr. Lewis has been my
Chief of Security and a good friend. He will provide you with a box containing
part of your inheritance as well as other items that you will need. You must
select a new Vizier, something like a Prime Minister, to assist you and I would
suggest that you consult with Herbert before naming a candidate to replace
Chief Mbaye who deserves a long relaxing retirement and more time to play with
his many grandchildren. He is a good man but he thinks rap is something you do
on a door. A person acquainted with your culture might be more appropriate.”

“There are several
items in the box that you will need as Pharaoh, please guard them with care.
They have been passed from True Pharaoh to the next for more than two thousand
years. In a special container, you will find the royal seal in the shape of a
falcon. It represents Lord Horus who protects the living Pharaoh. He will watch
over you. The seal is necessary for official documents. In another box, you
will find the crook and flail that are the symbols of your office as Pharaoh. I
have selected those that belonged originally to Ramses II, a great warrior
king. There is also a treasury that will be at your disposal to finance your
travels and expenses. It consists of gold bars, diamonds, cash and bearer
bonds. All of this wealth is for your duties as Pharaoh and you may never
consider it as personal property. The Vizier will soon explain the functioning
of the foundation that supports the work of the Servants as well as your Royal
Council.”

Ryan paused the
video for a moment and took a deep breath. He stood up and walked over to the
ornate chest. It had a large metal clasp on the front. It was unlocked. He
gently raised the lid almost expecting a brilliant light to blind him like in a
Harrison Ford movie. Instead, he found a square wooden box. He removed the
cover and inside he could see the seal his grandmother had spoken of nestled in
purple velvet. It took it in his hand. It was extremely heavy and Ryan knew
that it must be solid gold. It would be priceless at an auction.

Underneath the
seal was a longer box that he removed. Inside, he discovered the crook and
flail that he recognized from his visit to the King Tut exhibit. Finally, there
was a large leather briefcase similar to the ones that lawyers use. He opened
the top and inside he found bundles of Euros, US Dollars and Pound Sterling as
well as a layer of gold bars, two pouches of cut diamonds and other precious
stones. He knew everything had to be worth several million. He was
flabbergasted.

He replaced the
items and returned to the video.

“There is great
urgency in the succession,” she continued, “The Gods will only listen to you on
matters of Ma’at. In your absence, they will assume that the forces of evil are
winning and they will punish humanity with everything at their disposal. There
will be a surge in natural disasters, famine and plague when they require a
meeting. The frequency will only increase as their patience wears thin. Should
you ignore the signs and not respond to their call, millions will suffer
needlessly and many innocent people will die for no reason. You will know just
by picking up a newspaper and any refusal to act will only increase the
destruction. The fate of the world is literally in your hands.”

“I am one of the
Pharaoh’s most solicited to visit the Gods. The meetings took place during
trips to Senegal because that is where my mother’s ancestors came from. They
have lost their faith in mankind and it is up to you to restore it. As I
mentioned earlier, this dynasty is voluntary. You could refuse to assume the
throne but to do so would put the future of the world at risk. Your destiny is
to be Pharaoh. Your ancestors sacrificed to maintain Ma’at and now the
responsibility is in your hands. I would have preferred to give you any other
inheritance but this is the will of the Gods.”

“Please know that
you were never truly an orphan and that you were loved more than you could ever
imagine. Both by your mother, for the all too short time she had you with her,
and by a grandmother who thought of you every waking moment of every day. I
hope that this love will sustain you now.”

“May Horus protect
you and give you wisdom. May Seth, the Lord of Chaos have patience until you
are ready, and may the Gods have mercy on this world! Long live the True
Pharaoh!”