The Secret of the King's Tomb

by Garrett Drake

  He drifted along with the current and considered his options. Crying out for help seemed to be about his only shot at safety. With a deep breath, he prepared to scream when he bumped into something bobbing in the water. Richard’s instinct was to get away from it, but the object seemed to be rather inanimate.

  He realized it was a channel marker. Grabbing ahold of the frame, he felt his way around in an attempt to find any sharp edge to free him from his bindings. Despite his background as an accomplished swimmer, his legs were starting to tire. If he could use his arms, he’d be able to reach shore quickly despite the Nile’s strong flow.

  After a few seconds, he happened across a jagged piece of metal. Working quickly, Richard placed his bindings on the edge and started to saw away. Within a couple minutes, his hands were free.

  Using the marker to orient himself, Richard decided to swim to his left in an attempt to reach the banks of the river. Slashing through the water with his arms and legs, he glided toward what he believed to be the shore. However, the first thing he ran into wasn’t the ground but a pair of night fishermen.

  “Please,” Richard said. “Will you help me?”

  Instead of offering a hand, the two men began to beat back Richard with their oars.

  Maybe I’m bad luck.

  Undeterred, Richard reversed course, waiting until the boat was out of sight before he swung back around. Swimming toward the shore, he hit the water furiously, splashing everywhere with each stroke. However, he slowed for a moment to take a peek over his shoulder. What he saw terrified him.

  Two beady eyes illuminated by the moon reflected off the river’s surface and glided straight toward him. Richard tried to remain calm while doubling his pace.

  When he looked back, he saw the crocodile lunge out of the water toward him. Richard darted to his right, avoiding the snapping jaws. He didn’t think it was possible to swim any faster, but he did.

  Moments later, he glanced back to see if the crocodile was in pursuit, but the waters were still. Then he heard a splash and looked over his shoulder again. The beast was making another pass, honing in on Richard’s position and speeding up.

  Chapter 12

  RICHARD HAD ONLY SEEN pictures of crocodiles until this moment, though he’d read enough about them to know that he wouldn’t survive a tussle with one in the river. With adrenaline coursing through him, he continued to rip through the water and looked for any sign that he was nearing the shore. Just a few meters ahead, a small light flickered, and Richard swam toward it.

  After a couple more strokes, the silhouetted outline of a boat came into view. Reaching over the edge was a man, offering his hand. Richard lunged upward and grabbed it. He tried to wriggle his way over the side as the man yanked Richard inside the vessel. Collapsing in an exhausted state, Richard looked up and realized his troubles weren’t over.

  The fisherman who’d saved him was now engaged in a battle with the crocodile, which rammed the side and rocked the boat back and forth. Richard sat up and saw the man warding off the reptile with a paddle before wasting no time in joining him. The two men slapped furiously at the animal. The sounds of water splashing and a jaw snapping interrupted an otherwise serene night along the Nile.

  At one point, the crocodile wrapped his jaw around the side of the boat and pulled down, but Richard turned his paddle on its edge and cracked the beast on its snout, causing it to let go. After a minute of intense battling, the animal retreated.

  “Are you okay?” the fisherman asked.

  “Yeah,” Richard said, shocked by the question in his own language. “You speak English?”

  The man chuckled. “I’m a fishing guide for tourists during the day—and no local would be foolish enough to wade into this section of the Nile at night.”

  “Well, it wasn’t by choice,” Richard said. “Someone threw me in the river.”

  “You need new friends.”

  “They weren’t my friends.”

  The fisherman shook his head. “Either way, you’re fortunate to have learned a valuable lesson about swimming in the Nile at night. Most people never survive.”

  “I promise not to squander my good fortune then.”

  The fisherman rowed the boat toward a nearby dock and let Richard out. He thanked the man profusely for his courage and decency before heading back toward the hotel.

  While Richard wasn’t keen on returning to the Shepherd’s Hotel, he needed to gather his belongings and get a dry set of clothes. He considered sleeping in the back and waiting until morning to revisit Sara Catherine’s room. However, he noticed the light to her room was still on and the balcony doors wide open.

  As he started walking up the steps, he considered that maybe she was working with the Reichswehr unit. He also theorized that perhaps she was forced to let them into her room. After all, she was gone when they stormed inside.

  He saw the light beneath her door and knocked gingerly. When she answered, she was wearing her housecoat and smoking a cigarette.

  “What happened to you?” she asked, her brow furrowed. “I’ve been worried sick all night. When I got back, you were gone and had left all your things.”

  “It’s a long story,” Richard said.

  “Come on in and tell me all about it while you dry off,” she said. “You look like you’ve been keelhauled.”

  He stepped inside and locked the door behind him. “I might as well have been.”

  Richard thanked her again for her hospitality before toweling off. He then proceeded to recount what the Reichswehr unit had done to him before barely surviving a predatory crocodile in the Nile.

  “The croc didn’t follow you ashore, did he?” Sara Catherine asked.

  “No need to worry. I locked the door.”

  She chuckled and bid him to join her on the balcony. Politely declining, he explained that he preferred to remain far out of sight for fear the Germans might see that he survived.

  “It’s probably best if you report to the authorities in the morning that an American journalist named Frederick Powers went missing last night,” he said. “At least that will give off the impression that I was drowned or died in the jaws of one of those monsters.”

  “What exactly did you do to make these men so mad?” she asked.

  “It’s silly, to be honest. I told a little fib while I was playing a game of cards.”

  “What kind of fib?”

  Richard sighed. “I told him that I had a gold watch in my room and that I would throw it into the pot to up the ante, confident that I wouldn’t have to fetch it.”

  “And when you lost?”

  “He demanded it. So, I feigned as if someone had stolen it.”

  “That’s still quite vindictive over a lost bet,” she said. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

  “I doubt I’m off the hook just yet. That’s why I need you to promise me that you’ll report me missing at daybreak.”

  “I promise,” Sara Catherine said. “And what exactly are you going to do tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to do what I came here to do,” he said. “I’m going to explore Egypt.”

  “My offer to sleep on the couch still stands,” she said as she closed the balcony behind her. She gestured toward the couch.

  “I’ll gratefully take you up on your offer again.”

  She smiled. “And this time, no intruders.”

  * * *

  JUST BEFORE DAYBREAK, Richard woke up and scribbled a quick thank you note to Sara Catherine. He gathered his belongings and crept out of her room. Sneaking out through the back stairwell, he found an empty alleyway and curled up in a doorstep before falling asleep again.

  Richard didn’t wake up again until early in the afternoon. He bought a piece of bread off a street vendor to momentarily squelch his hunger pangs and then donned a hat and costume mustache he’d pocketed while on the Harvraise.

  Upon re-entering the Shepherd’s Hotel dining hall, he strode over to the same bartender he’d seen talking with th
e Germans.

  “Excuse me, sir,” Richard said. “I was wondering if you could tell me how to find Jabari Gamal. I hear he’s one of the best guides around for us English-speaking people.”

  The bartender shook his head. “No, he’s the best around for anyone. You won’t find a more knowledgeable man in all of Egypt if you intend to explore any of our country’s great monuments and tombs. It’s as if he actually lived through all the dynasties.”

  “He sounds like the kind of man I’d like to escort me there then,” Richard said.

  The bartender ripped off a piece of paper from a pad behind him and then scratched down an address. He handed the note to Richard.

  “Give this to one of the concierges in the lobby,” the bartender said. “They’ll be able to get you there.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. But you better hurry. I sent some other men over to him yesterday. I think they’re supposed to leave later this afternoon. Maybe you can all go together.”

  Richard forced a smile and tipped his cap before spinning toward the door.

  That’s not gonna happen in this lifetime.

  He quickened his pace. If he didn’t hustle, he might lose the Germans for good.

  Chapter 13

  KARL WILHELM KNOCKED on the door of the address he’d been given. Only two of his men joined him, while the rest remained in the bed of the truck parked down the street, not visible from the front steps. Wilhelm didn’t want to make a show of force if it wasn’t necessary—and he was confident the handsome sum he was prepared to offer Jabari Gamal would make the Egyptian guide readily agree to assist the Reichswehr unit on its mission.

  Jabari cracked the door just wide enough to fit his face through the opening. His gaze darted back and forth between Wilhelm and his two companions.

  “Jabari Gamal?” Wilhelm said.

  “Who’s asking?” Jabari asked.

  “My name is Karl Wilhelm, and I’m with the German Archeological Society from Berlin. I was hoping you would be able to assist us on a dig we plan to make at the Valley of the Kings this week.”

  “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong house,” Jabari said. “I’m not a guide. How did you get my name?”

  “We heard about you at the Shepherd’s Hotel from one of the bartenders there,” Wilhelm said. “He said you were the best in all of Egypt. Was he mistaken?”

  “There was a time when I used to help certain tourists during their excursions in the Valley of the Kings, but that was a long time ago. I don’t do that anymore.”

  A woman’s voice rang out from behind Jabari.

  “Who is it?” she asked in Arabic.

  “It’s no one,” he replied in the same language as he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Wilhelm narrowed his eyes and glared at Jabari, who withdrew when he noticed his visitor’s angry demeanor.

  “I’m not a nobody,” Wilhelm said, placing his hand on the upper portion of the door and pushing.

  Jabari staggered backward, apparently caught off guard by the bold move to enter his home without permission.

  “You need to leave my home,” Jabari said as he glared at Wilhelm.

  Wilhelm shook his head. “I need the best guide, and I’m not leaving until I get him.”

  “Then you’ll have to look elsewhere. I’m not a guide, and I’m not about to start now for a rude person like you.”

  “For some reason, I doubt the bartender at the Shepherd’s Hotel was lying,” Wilhelm said. “His name is Ahmed Gamal. Any chance he’s related to you?”

  “Get out now.”

  “We’re not going anywhere,” Wilhelm said as he pushed back the side of his coat, revealing his holstered gun. His two assistants followed his lead, also revealing their weapons.

  As the men stood there in silence staring at one another, a young child shuffled into the room.

  “Papa,” he said, holding up a bag. “Hadha lirahlatak.”

  Jabari scowled at the boy and gestured for him to leave, but he remained pat as he continued to hold up the pack.

  “I know Arabic,” Wilhelm said. “I know what he said. This is for your trip.”

  Jabari’s eyes widened. Wilhelm had the guide on the ropes. There was no more denying, no more lying. A little innocent boy had exposed his father’s attempt at escaping a job he didn’t want for some reason. But Wilhelm wasn’t about to accept no for an answer.

  “You’re coming with us,” Wilhelm said, breaking the silence.

  “I don’t have to do anything you say,” Jabari said.

  One of Wilhelm’s men lunged for the boy, snatching him away from Jabari before he could react. The other soldier held up his hand and then pulled out his weapon.

  “You come with us, or we will shoot your son right now,” Wilhelm said.

  Jabari threw his hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. Just let him go. He’s done nothing wrong. I’ll help you.”

  The boy’s eyes welled with tears before a single drop streaked down his face. Jabari crouched down next to his son and gave him a hug.

  “Everything is going to be all right,” he said in Arabic. “Tell your mother I will be back in a few days.”

  Jabari took the pack from his son and strode toward the door. He turned around for a moment to bid his son farewell. He was sobbing, which attracted the attention of his mother. She rushed into the room in time to see her husband being led out of the door.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said in Arabic.

  Wilhelm eyed the woman closely, wagging his index finger at her. “We will take care of him.”

  She let out a desperate scream as she rushed to the front steps. Wilhelm trained his gun on her and then shook his head. And she obeyed, freezing at the doorway yet continuing to cry out for her husband in agony.

  “Don’t turn around,” Wilhelm said to Jabari. “Just keep walking. We don’t have time for her theatrics.”

  Jabari did as commanded, keeping pace with the two guards until they reached the truck that was parked down the street. When Wilhelm shoved his prisoner—and guide—into the back, he grinned.

  “Gentlemen, we have ourselves a guide,” Wilhelm said.

  The men cheered and smiled.

  “Now let’s go find ourselves a treasure,” their leader said.

  Wilhelm climbed into the passenger’s seat and then slammed the door shut. He slapped the seat hard as the driver turned the ignition key, bidding the truck to roar to life. The vehicle sputtered for a moment before the engine came alive and started to chug.

  “Are you ready, sir?” the driver asked.

  Wilhelm nodded. “Full speed ahead to the docks. We’re going to Luxor as unsuspecting tourists.”

  The man eased onto the gas as the vehicle lurched forward. In an instant, the journey started toward the last stop aboard one of the Cairo luxury steamboats that ferried rich Europeans up and down the Nile River.

  Chapter 14

  RICHARD KNOCKED ON THE DOOR and waited for someone to answer. After a long minute with no one coming, he looked with raised eyebrows at the concierge who served as an escort to Jabari Gamal’s house.

  “Are you sure this is the address?” Richard asked the concierge, who went by the name of Amir.

  He nodded. “I’ve been here several times. This is where Jabari lives.”

  “Then why isn’t he answering?”

  “Perhaps he isn’t here.”

  “But his entire family?” Richard asked.

  “It’s possible that they all went to the market.”

  Richard had waited long enough without any response that he was about to spin around and walk away when he heard something. The voice of a child and accompanying footsteps shuffling across the floor.

  “Someone is in there,” Richard said to the concierge.

  He shrugged. “I can’t make them answer the door.”

  “What is his wife’s name?”

  Am
ir sighed. “Sagira? Are you there?”

  A few seconds later, Richard heard footsteps shuffling toward the door followed by a woman’s voice.

  “She asked what you want,” Amir said.

  ‘Tell her I’m staying at the Shepherd Hotel and I want to speak with Jabari.”

  Amir relayed the message.

  “Well?” Richard asked.

  Amir shook his head. “He’s not here.”

  “Ask her when he’ll be back,” Richard said.

  Amir and the woman spoke again briefly.

  “She said she doesn’t know if he’s coming back,” Amir said.

  “Just tell her that I desperately need to speak to her.”

  Amir obliged and passed along the message.

  A few seconds later, she unlocked the door and gestured for them to come inside before quickly locking the door behind them. Once they were all safely indoors, she collapsed onto the couch, tears streaming down her face.

  “Sagira, what happened?” the concierge asked in English.

  “These men came into our home and took my husband,” she said. “They threatened to kill my son if Jabari didn’t comply.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Richard said. “I know who these men are, and they are dangerous.”

  “Can you help me get my husband back?” she asked. “I don’t know what I’ll do without him.”

  With a creased forehead, her little son climbed up into her lap.

  “I might be able to help,” Richard said. “I think I know what those men are up to, but I need to know where they were taking him.”

  Sagira shook her head. “They never said where they were going, but there’s only one place my husband ever goes, the place he is known as the expert guide—and that’s Luxor.”

  “The Valley of the Kings?” Richard asked.

  She nodded. “He has been working there for a number of years. His familiarity with the dig site as well as his knowledge of the English language has made our family a wealthy one—but not wealthy enough to stop a host of soldiers from storming our front door and stealing Jabari away from us.”