The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers) (9 page)

And with
the disaster Egypt was turning into, these students may need the skills sooner
than he hoped.

“Look.”

He
followed the outstretched arm of Sergeant Hewlett and saw a puff of dust on the
horizon, then a second. He gunned the engine and sped along the top of a ridge,
closing the distance then skidded to a halt, jumping up onto the driver’s seat,
his binoculars already at his eyes.

“Two men
on horseback, armed. AK’s most likely.”

Hewlett,
also standing on his seat, nodded.

“Dressed
like Bedouins. What do you think?”

“I think
we’re being watched. We’ll do a loop around the camp, just to see if there are
others, then I think it’s time to increase security.”

They
both dropped into their seats and Leather gunned the engine, the jeep surging
forward as they made their round. Two curious Bedouins didn’t concern him too
much, but his encounters with them in the past showed them to be bold warriors,
who wouldn’t have run just because two white guys showed up in a jeep.

This was
something different.

And
Leather knew from the tingling running up and down his spine that this was more
than what it appeared.

Tarik’s Residence, Alexandria, Egypt

30 BC, Seven Weeks After Cleopatra’s Death

Tarik and Jabari sat quietly on the veranda overlooking the Nile, it
now evening, the sun having just set behind them. The banks of the river were
now lit with torches, as the commerce never ceased, hundreds of craft
continuing their voyages up and down the Nile, the only evidence of their
existence tiny lights on their bows and sterns, and the occasional shout from
one of the crew.

Fadil!
How could you have done such a thing?

Tarik
had sent a messenger to have his brother and his wife join them for dinner, but
no dinner would be served tonight. Though Tarik’s stomach growled on occasion
for attention, he feared he would immediately reject anything he ate, and throw
it up.

Instead
he nursed a glass of wine, a Roman vintage he had grown to love over the years,
acquiring it whenever he could manage, all his contacts having standing orders
to notify him immediately when new stock arrived on the shores of Egypt. But
tonight it was merely a beverage, and brought no joy or pleasure, other than to
dull the nerves slightly at what must be done.

Sounds
from within, then voices, announced the arrival of his youngest brother and his
wife who Tarik was certain had forced him into this. He looked at Jabari, who
looked as pale as he felt, then rose with his brother to face their duty. Fadil
rounded the corner, Dalila on his arm, both draped in the latest fashions,
Dalila adorned with remarkable jewelry of which Tarik had to question how they
could afford such luxury, the youngest brother’s position affording him only a
small portion of the family fortune.

“What’s
wrong, brothers?” asked Fadil as he saw their faces. “You both look as if
you’ve seen Apep himself!”

Tarik
pointed to two chairs, specially arranged for the two of them.

“Sit.”

Fadil
chuckled, looking at Dalila. “Okay, but we are not beasts to be ordered around,
brother.”

They
both sat, and Tarik motioned for Jabari to bring the necklace. Jabari retrieved
it from the table, and held it out for their two thieves to see as Tarik
scrutinized them both.

Dalila
gasped, immediately turning pale, her guilt obvious, but Fadil’s reaction had
Tarik confused. His jaw dropped, and he paled in what Tarik could only describe
as horror. He looked up at Jabari, then at Tarik.

“What
are you doing with that?” he whispered. “Isn’t that the necklace you made for
our beloved Pharaoh?”

Tarik
nodded. “Indeed it is.”

“Then I
ask again, what are you doing with it? This is sacrilege!”

Tarik
glanced at Jabari, who appeared equally confused.

“You
claim you don’t know how we have come into possession of this?”

“Of
course not, only you can know how.”

“And
your wife?”

“How
could she possible know?” He looked at his wife who had turned away, gripping
the back of her chair for support. “Dear, what is it?”

Dalila
shook her head, it having dropped to her chest as she began to shake with sobs.
Fadil was confused, looking between her and his brothers, then kneeling in
front of her, taking her hands.

“What is
it, my love, please tell me.”

“I-I’m
so sorry,” she whispered.

“For
what? What could you possibly have to do with this?”

“It was
me. I took it.”

Fadil
gasped and fell backward, landing on his backside. Tarik’s eyes shot up as his
jaw dropped, this turn of events completely unexpected, but at once welcome and
unwelcome. It meant his beloved younger brother was innocent, but his wife,
whom he loved as well, was guilty, with only one sentence permissible.

Tarik
looked at Jabari and saw the conflicting emotions he too was experiencing
written all over his face. Tears filled his eyes as a smile kept invading the
expression of horror, and when realized, was wiped away just as quickly. Though
they both were clearly elated their brother was innocent, the situation was
still horrifying. A woman they both knew and loved, who was loved desperately
by their young brother, had betrayed their most sacred laws.

“How did
you come into possession of the necklace?” asked Tarik, his voice slightly
gentler. “Did you buy it from someone?”

She
shook her head. “No.”

“Then
how did you get it?” asked Fadil, still on the floor, having pushed himself to
a sitting position, but apparently not trusting his legs to keep him afoot.

“I stole
it.”

Fadil
laughed, and even Tarik had to admit it sounded absurd.
How could she have
possibly stolen it?
He looked at her, and she at him, and he could see
immediately that she was serious.

“How?”
he asked. “When?” It didn’t make any sense. If she stole it, then that meant
she had entered the tomb, but the tomb was guarded by one of The Brotherhood at
all times. He looked at his brother, Fadil, who had named their small
organization The Brotherhood just last week, thinking it appropriate since it
had been founded by three brothers, and now consisted of trusted men who were
devout believers in the gods, and refused to abide by the false gods the Romans
would have them worship. They were traditionalists, all of them, and The
Brotherhood had sworn to protect the ancient artifacts, the ancient tombs, from
those who would loot or destroy them.

The
Brotherhood.

It
sounded so lonely to him now, and as he looked at Dalila, he suddenly realized
it was Fadil himself who had said women shouldn’t be allowed in the
organization, as they couldn’t be trusted. Both Tarik and Jabari had thought
the notion ridiculous, after all, the entire idea was inspired by wanting to
protect their
Queen’s
final resting place.

He
sighed, looking again at Dalila.

“Please
explain it to us.”

She
nodded, staring at her hands as they clasped and unclasped in her lap. “One
night, a week ago, Fadil was guarding the tomb, and I went with him. My darling
husband was tired, so I told him to sleep, told him that I would watch in his
stead.” She looked at her husband, her eyes pleading with him to forgive her,
but he could only stare at her in horror, his wide eyes and slightly open mouth
revealing only the shock of betrayal.

“I was
restless, so I went for a walk, then heard voices. I came upon two men coming
out of a crevice. Too afraid to confront them, for I only had a dagger, I hid
amongst the stones, then waited for them to leave, their horse loaded with
goods. But—” Her voice faltered.

“But?”
encouraged Tarik.

“But
instead of getting my husband, my curiosity won out, and I slipped into the
crevice they had emerged from, and followed the path. It opened into a large
array of underground caves, carved out by the gods eons ago. I followed the
footprints on the cave floor, and found they had dug a hole deeper inside. I
climbed through and found our Pharaoh’s tomb. It had been ransacked”—all three
brothers exchanged shocked looks at this statement—“and I immediately checked
her sarcophagus. It had been pried open, but not completely. Apparently they
planned on coming back. I remembered the necklace you, my sweet brother-in-law,
had crafted with your own hands, and needed to know if it was still inside. I
reached in, and felt it, but instead of leaving it, I for some reason pulled it
off her body, and ran with it. I couldn’t help it! I don’t know why I did it,
but I felt I had to have it! To possess it! It was something so much more
beautiful than we could ever afford!”

“But you
would never be able to wear it!”

“Oh, but
I did! I wore it all the time when alone, and when I did, I felt like a queen.”
Her voice had become full of life again, the Dalila they had all known and
loved, revealed as the greedy, wealth obsessed desecrator she was.

“You
knew I was improving our position, it would just take time,” cried Fadil,
finally pushing himself to his feet. “You wanted for nothing. I gave you
everything I could, including jewels I could barely afford, yet, yet—!”

He
couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence, instead spinning on his heel and
walking away.

Tarik
stepped forward as Jabari went to comfort their brother. “You must have
realized the punishment if caught.”

She
nodded, her pride once again in check as her eyes and chin lowered. “I did. I
do.”

“Is the
necklace all you took?”

She
nodded.

“These
two thieves, would you recognize them?”

She
shook her head. “But they said they would be back tonight.”

Tarik
felt his heart leap. “Are you certain?”

She
nodded.

A chance
at catching the thieves was almost unhoped for, but if they could not only
protect the tomb from further desecration, and capture those responsible, they
might be able to recover the goods stolen.

He heard
the scrape of feet behind him, and he turned to see Jabari with Fadil under his
arm, standing nearby.

“You
will show us the entrance,” said Fadil to his wife, and she nodded. “Then we
will deal with your treachery.”

He
turned and walked toward the front of the house, leaving the rest on the
veranda, his shoulders squared, then shaking as he rounded the corner, out of
sight.

Tarik
motioned for Dalila to stand, then looked at Jabari and pointed at a nearby
basket.

“Take
that, we’ll need it later.”

Jabari
grimaced, but nodded. As he picked it up, the contents hissed, and Tarik felt
the same shiver he was certain they all felt as he pictured what lay inside.

Justice.

Nubian Desert, Egypt, University College London Dig Site

Two Days Before the Liberty Island Attack

Acton stared up at the ring of light above his head as he dangled
from what, he did not know, suspended an unknown distance above a surface
below. And he slipped some more. He tried to calm his pounding heart, the roar
in his ears deafening. As he focused on his breathing, he thanked God he was
able to get Laura to safety. If he died now, at least he’d die knowing she was
safe.

“Jim!
Can you hear me?”

Acton’s
heart leapt as he recognized Reading’s voice, and he wondered how long he had
just hung on, ignoring calls from above in his panic.
If he was able to get
here from the camp, it had to be several minutes.

“Yes!”
he yelled, but it was weak, his mouth dried from the sand he had swallowed
while falling.

“James,
it’s me, are you okay?”

Laura!
Her voice renewed him with determination, his will to survive
surging forth.

“Yes,
I’m fine.”
Are you?
“Sort of. I’m hanging from something, I don’t know
what. And I can’t see how far down the ground is!”

“We’re
getting ropes and flashlights. Hang tight, you’ll be okay.”

As if to
object to her statement, he felt himself begin to slip again.

“I’m
slipping!”

He heard
shouts, and talking above, but nothing he could make out, then suddenly he
stopped sliding.

“Are you
okay?” yelled Laura.

“I’ve
stopped slipping. What happened?”

“It
looks like you’re holding onto some sort of cloth. Canvas maybe. I think the
stones were holding it in place, then when we started moving them, you fell
through.”

Deliberate.
Which made him think if it were, then what lay below may not be
that far, and may be worth finding.

He felt
his fingers slipping, and he wrapped himself tighter against the canvas,
wondering how long his already shaking muscles might last before he’d be forced
to let go.

More
noise above had him looking at the circle of light he figured must be about ten
feet above him, then a head blocked the light. “Tossing some glow sticks down
now. Watch your head,” said Reading. Acton closed his eyes and dropped his chin
to his chest. He heard something hit the ground below him, then another clicking
sound and yet another.

“Okay,
it’s safe. What do you see?”

Acton
opened his eyes and laughed. He saw three glow sticks, sitting on the ground,
about three inches from his heels. He let himself slide down the canvas and
touch the floor, his pounding heart quickly beginning to calm as he stretched.

“I’m
okay, I’m on the ground now. Can you lower a bucket with a flashlight and some
water?”

“Coming
right up!” he heard Reading yell, then orders being barked. He picked up one of
the glow sticks and held it out in front of him, but it was useless, the eerie
green glow merely revealing shadows. “Heads up!”