Trey Roberts and the Ancient Relics

by Lee Magnus

  Trey became quiet. He rubbed his eyes.

  “Go on,” she said softly.

  “Mr. H worked it out so I could talk about my project to his science classes. I was overly excited about nuclear fusion at the time and would talk to anyone about it, especially middle school kids. So, I agreed. Afterward, he and I spent an hour or so talking about science and performing simple experiments in his lab while my mom waited. It was a ton of fun. We did the one where you mix hydrogen peroxide, yeast, soap and food coloring in a bottle for a fantastic colorful eruption.”

  “I don’t know that one.”

  “Oh. Well, you should do it one day. It’s pretty cool. Anyway, several months after the science fair he asked mom if he could take me to a robotics challenge. She agreed. We’ve gone every year since then. After that he gradually started doing lots of stuff with me including helping me with future science fair projects. He also helps us around the house, you know, lifting things and moving stuff around. I guess mom thought he was a good role model for me. She must have known dad wouldn’t be coming around anymore. I’ve gotten to know him well and really like him. I was super excited when I finally made it into his science class.”

  “Do you think there could be more to it between your mom and Nick?”

  “No. Nothing like that. At least nothing that I’ve noticed. Why do you ask?” He looked at her playfully. “Are you interested? I can talk to him for you if you want.” He smiled and they both laughed. “You don’t have any competition with my mom. She’s at least ten years older than him.”

  “Yeah,” she said looking off distantly. “That age difference can cause problems.”

  “It’s just not like that. Mr. H seems to be a friend rather than someone mom wants around permanently.”

  “I see. What’s permanent anyway. Everything goes away eventually. Change is inevitable.”

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  After a few moments of silence Trey changed the subject, “What’s the deal with the sword you and the Phoenix were talking about?”

  “It’s a piece of the three that complete a powerful weapon. It was Khaitu’s personal weapon he used to,” she looked away – her voice became harsh – angry he thought, “to defeat King Ronodan,” she looked back and regained her smooth mezzo-soprano tone, “as well as wreak havoc on many innocent people. However, only a being of great magic can wield it. If ordinary people like you or I try to use it, we will be instantly consumed in flames and die a horrible death. The pieces must never be joined.”

  “And you know where it is?”

  “Maybe. It is most likely with an old friend of mine in the very city we are heading. If this is true, the pieces are too close together. We must find them first, then scatter them across the world.

  “The town is just over this dune,” she said. “Let’s take a quick break before we go any further.”

  “Who’s this friend of yours?” Trey asked as he stretched out his legs while sitting in the sand. “And if he’s a friend, why do we have to sneak into town to see him?”

  “Well, Jessie isn’t really a friend.”

  “Yeah, I guessed that. Who is he?”

  “He’s not a nice guy. However, everyone around here loves him.”

  “If he’s not a nice guy, why do people love him?”

  “He takes good care of those he lives with. They love and protect him for it. He’s in all sorts of illegal activities such as drug and weapons smuggling as well as human trafficking.”

  “Why doesn’t the government come and stop him?”

  “The governments are unconcerned with Jessie. He’s racked up quite the business with the political unrest of Libya and Egypt. They’ve made it easy for him to move his goods around as well as provided the necessary environment for his particular services. He’s currently in high demand.”

  “So, what you’re saying is that this bad guy is flush with cash and weapons…and we’re just going to sneak in and take something from his house?”

  “Yeah. That’s the plan.”

  “You’re crazy, you know.”

  “Trust me, Trey. We’ll get through this if you do what I say.”

  “Ok. Sure.” He fidgeted with his shoe then took one off. “My shoes are full of sand. I wish I brought boots,” Trey said dumping out one of his shoes. “We’re here to get the sword?”

  “That, and to have a good conversation with your science teacher. He must not attempt to get the eye. It is much too dangerous but more importantly, if he were to somehow succeed, it would be much too dangerous for the entire world.”

  After a few moments she said, “Let’s get moving. The sun will be up soon.”

  Trey and Lyza summited the dune then snuck into the quiet sandy town. The early morning sun had yet to crest the horizon.

  “Follow me closely,” she said. “Don’t make a sound and keep your movements clean and concise.”

  “Clean and concise? What’s that mean?”

  “Just follow me and be careful to not make noise.”

  “Why didn’t you just say that to begin with?”

  She gave him a don’t be a smartass look, then continued slinking around town – careful to stay in the shadows.

  She stopped against the wall of a building on the street corner holding out a closed hand indicating Trey to be still. She peeked around the corner to spy two men talking outside a gated residence. One of the men smoking a cigarette, laughed as he playfully pushed the other. The other, shorter and stouter than the lanky smoking man, seemed to be put off by the comment from his cohort.

  “Stay here. Don’t move unless you have to. Got me?” Lyza commanded.

  “Yeah. Just like last time, huh?” he whispered with a grin.

  “Just stay here.” She handed the pouch she received from the Phoenix to Trey. “Remove the green one and hold onto it.” She then continued to study the guards.

  “He unzipped the bag containing neatly organized bottles. He took out a green capped bottle. “This one?”

  “That’s it. If you get into trouble, sprinkle it around you to hide.”

  Trey looked curiously at the small green bottle then fastened the pouch to his waist.

  Lyza studied the guards closely. The men stood facing away from the compound continuing lively banter for nearly thirty minutes before one turned around. Just as the other began to turn, Lyza erupted from her crouch. Trey gasped at her quick movements. In less than five seconds, she launched from behind the building, struck the base of the cigarette guy’s skull with the heel of her right boot which propelled her just enough to exert brutal force behind a cross to the second guard’s temple. Both men fell to the cold sandy road, unconscious. A soft breeze blew strands of hair across her face. She stood tall with cinched fists at her side as she examined the outcome of her swift actions. After securing the guards, she effortlessly hurled herself over the fence.

  Who is this woman? Can I really trust her? Trey thought in amazement as he sat at the corner waiting for her to return. What am I doing here? This is maddening. What do I do? What if she doesn’t come back? What if she does come back? Where will she rush me off to next? I could have died tonight. Mom could have died. She might be in trouble now! Aunt Kathy couldn’t protect a poodle much less Mom. God help me!

  He sat for several minutes wallowing in his thoughts.

  “Marhabaan ya tifl,” a voice behind Trey stated.

  Startled, he turned to find a skinny guy wearing a yellow shirt with an AK-47 in his grasp.

  “Ma aldhy tabhath eanh?” the man asked as he looked toward the compound. Seeing the guards down he raised the weapon toward Trey and yelled, “Aaeal maeay! Alan!”

  The man rapidly approached and grabbed Trey’s wrist, pulling him toward the gate. Trey twisted free from his grip, spun with the twist, then hammered a side kick into the left knee of AK Man. Trey bolted down a side street.

  BAM! BAM! BAM! echoed from the automatic rifle. Trey fell to the dusty ground.

  Jessie’s
Girl

  Lyza snuck across the desert lawn, careful to draw no attention. She intentionally followed the shadows from the early morning sun. To avoid a guard, she grasped the ledge of a balcony, tossed herself up, then entered an unlocked window.

  Getting in was the hard part – everyone inside seems to be asleep. She thought to herself.

  She found a familiar meeting room that contained a large table and a dozen rolling chairs. Three large original paintings donned three walls. But no sign of the sword so she continued the search to other areas.

  She heard someone approach as she crept down the center carpeted hallway. She quickly and quietly entered a random room. She glanced over the empty bedroom as the footsteps passed.

  She slid out carefully and continued down the hallway toward Jessie’s office. Suddenly a man opened a door she was passing. She stunned him with a slap to the face, reached past and grabbed his hair, then pulled the door violently smashing his head between the door and the frame. She rammed a front kick into his sternum, propelling him into the room. She closed the door and quickly continued to the office undisturbed.

  The office was dark and heavily decorated in hardwoods and shiny indulgences. Knowing Jessie’s mammoth ego, he would have surely prominently displayed the sword. However, it could not be found with a quick search.

  Looking around the desk she eyed a few open letters addressed to Jessie of no concern. Inside a side drawer she found an oil and gas contract between Jessie’s West Oasis Oil Company and that of Phoenix Industries. This is disturbing. I’ll address this with him later.

  Shots rang outside the building. She quickly lunged to the window in time to see Trey fall in the street.

  “Trey! No!”

  A man with a pistol entered the room. He screamed at her in Arabic.

  She quickly tossed a letter opener at the man which he easily deflected with the pistol, but he was too slow for the left cross from her leap off the desk that followed. He stumbled as she quickly disarmed him with a hammer fist sending the pistol to the floor. She kicked the firearm away simultaneously dodging a left hook with a timely straight legged lunge. He caught her with a right jab, then threw her into the wall knocking over a bookshelf decorated with several glass keepsakes. Priceless glass shattered sporadically on the marble floor. Lyza kicked up onto her feet, hurled a book toward the man and quickly followed with a flying side kick. The book missed crashing upon the wall, but the kick was on target, knocking the man through the open door. She followed with a brutal elbow to the right temple which crumpled him onto the floor.

  A single heaving breath is all the time she depleted before continuing the search of which was rapidly becoming an escape.

  The extravagantly decorated hall of exquisite paintings opened into a restaurant sized greeting hall. A man busted in from across the room. Lyza hurled a small vase toward the attacker, then blitzed him as if she were an all-star linebacker. Without losing momentum she rolled off the downed guard into a sprint, then descended the staircase continuing her escape.

  ~~

  “What’s going on?” Jessie said in Arabic to AK-47 man – South African was prominent in Jessie’s accent.

  Jessie flaunted a deep red robe donning a silver crest on the right chest. Disheveled black shoulder length hair, morning stubble and a look of confusion completed his appearance.

  “I found a boy outside the compound. He was looking at Jeffe and Gordon. They were attacked and bound. He tried to run.”

  “So, you shot him?”

  “No. Just scared him. He’s locked in a room.”

  Jessie scowled, “Good. We don’t need any dead kids around here. Has the person who attacked them been subdued?”

  “No. We haven’t found them yet. It had to be at least 3. No one can take Jeffe alone.”

  “Ok. Get out there and find out what’s going on!”

  The doorknob jiggled. A slide lock clicked. Jessie entered the room.

  “What are you doing here, boy?” Jessie said as he squatted in front of Trey who sat unbound in a chair.

  “Nu…Nothing. I was just outside when your goon tried to kill me!”

  “So, wrong place wrong time, huh?”

  “Yeah! That’s it! Can I go now?”

  “I find it implausible for an American kid to be all alone on the streets of my town, outside my house at the very time it is compromised. Don’t you find that a little beyond coincidental?”

  Trey looked at the bag Lyza handed him on an adjacent table. The green bottle laid undamaged on its side. “Possibly. Or maybe I’m just a curious teenager on vacation with my parents, heard a commotion and followed the sound to where your guy found me.”

  “That’s some attitude for someone in your position.” He leaned in really close to Trey, then said in a softer more threatening voice, “I’d watch my mouth if I were you.”

  Morning breath and whisky dominated his statement.

  Trey took the opportunity Jessie gave him by thrusting his hand into the man’s adam’s apple. Jessie went to his knees gasping for breath. Trey stood then smashed his wooden chair onto Jessie’s back taking him completely to the ground. He grabbed the bag and green bottle then fled the room looking for a way out.

  Trey rushed past an intersection, AK-47 man yelled, “Walad! Tawaquf alttayira!” He turned in pursuit. Trey crossed a common area with a theater sized tv, marble tables and elegant chandelier. He hurdled a gaudy couch, then punched through a doorway nearly knocking Lyza over on the other side.

  “Trey! I thought you died! The man with the gun! What happened! Are you ok!”

  “Yeah! I’m fine but we have to get out of here quick!”

  “Follow me!” she screamed.

  She led them to the garage which held five of the most beautiful cars Trey had ever seen.

  “Quick! Find one we can use!”

  He searched two Italian sports cars, then said, “I can’t get in either of these!”

  “Over here!” she said standing by a white convertible Rolls Royce Phantom.

  Jumping into the drop top Trey said, “You really have discerning taste!”

  She smiled as she brought the car to life. The luxury engine roared as it smashed through the garage door ripping it from its hinges. Taking no heed of the elaborate driveway, she hurtled the car across the yard avoiding delicately placed palm trees and targeting the front gate.

  “Get down!” she yelled as three men fired automatic rifles at the approaching vehicle. She lowered her head as she shattered the front gate which ripped off the front bumper and finally released them into the city.

  Tiny Island

  Nick, Clievan and Seth left early in the morning toward Marina El Alamein on a route south of Alexandria in a clean four-door sedan Seth procured from yet another cousin. The car provided a comfortable ride with plenty of room for the band of misfit adventurers.

  “Hey, uh, Seth.”

  “Yeah Nick?”

  “You think you could go any slower? I mean, we’re not competing for a racing trophy or anything.”

  Seth navigated the sedan around a tight corner prompting Nick to grasp the handle as the tires signaled the upcoming end of their grip on the aged road.

  “What’s wrong with my driving? You weren’t complaining when we had those motorcycles after us yesterday.” He chuckled then looked at Nick through the rear-view mirror. Nick returned a frown.

  “Fine. We can take a break with some breakfast.” He hurtled the car into the parking lot of a rundown diner.

  While waiting on the server Clievan said to Nick with a smirk, “So you’re looking for a big rock in the desert?”

  “I believe it’s a crystal geode.”

  “You believe? You aren’t sure what you’re looking for are you?”

  “Not exactly. But I’m pretty sure it’s there.”

  “Check this guy out, Seth. He comes all the way from the states to search for a rock in the sand that he’s pretty sure is there. What a doaf. You need to get y
our head checked.”

  “Why’d we bring him?” Nick asked Seth.

  “Give our new friend a break will ya?” Seth replied to Clievan.

  “Ah, yes! Breakfast! Finally!” Clievan said reaching for the plates as fast as the waitress could serve them.

  Nick had a coffee and croissant sandwich, Seth a plate of pancakes and juice. The waitress returned three times with Clievan’s order. He had two stacks of pancakes, four fried eggs, three scrambled eggs, a heap of breakfast meat, smothered hash browns and a pina colada flavored milkshake.

  Nick barely sipped his coffee as he watched in awe, the precision and efficiency of the odd shaped man devour the mass of food. He was surprisingly well mannered – not a smack was heard during the exhibition.

  When Clievan was finished with his portion he looked over at Nick and said, “You gonna finish that?”

  As if woken from a daze, Nick said startled, “Oh. No. You can have it.” He handed his sandwich to Clievan who replied, “No. The syrup, but I’ll take the sandwich too. Thanks!”

  Nick passed him the blueberry syrup with which Clievan chased the sandwich. After the sandwich was gone, he finished off the remainder of the bottle of syrup. Seth paid the spectacle no mind as he blankly stared forward, slowly forking in soggy pieces of fried batter.

  “I think we’ve been here long enough. Let’s get back on the road,” Seth said as he removed himself from the table leaving behind a stack of Egyptian pounds.

  Thirty minutes into the drive Clievan held his stomach and said “What’s there to eat in here. I haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

  “How can you possibly still be hungry – and so skinny?” gawked Nick.

  “High metabolism,” He said with a sharp grin.