The Secret of the King's Tomb

by Garrett Drake

  “How long ago were they here?” Richard asked.

  “Maybe an hour ago at the most,” she said. “They weren’t here long until they coerced Jabari into joining them. He didn’t even tell me what he was doing or where he was going. But I knew.”

  “Do you think he would trust me if I approached him?”

  “It might take some convincing, especially after what just happened.”

  “How does he usually travel to Luxor?” Richard asked.

  “There’s a steamboat that leaves several times a day,” she said. “The next one should leave in about a half hour. If you hurry, you can make it. Otherwise, I don’t know when I’ll ever see my husband again.”

  Richard turned toward the concierge. “Do you think we can make it there in time?”

  “It’s not likely, but it isn’t impossible. Can we borrow Jabari’s motorcycle?” the concierge asked.

  Sagira nodded. “Take whatever you need. Just bring my husband back to me.”

  “I’ll do my best, ma’am,” Richard said.

  She ushered them toward a shed in the back and then unlocked the door. When it was flung open, Richard spied various tools tacked to the wall and scattered about the shed. In the center of the room, a motorcycle leaned to the side, secured only by the kickstand.

  Richard was taken aback by the age of the vehicle, which looked as if it hadn’t been driven in several months, maybe even years. Amir checked the gas and then kick-started the bike. Richard would’ve preferred to drive, but he didn’t want to quibble about it. Instead, he wasted no time in saddling up behind Amir and clutching him around the midsection. It wasn’t exactly what Richard imagined when he first set out for adventure on the continent of Africa, but he wasn’t about to complain. Striking off across the Egyptian sands provided a certain level of adventure all unto itself.

  “Hold on tight,” Amir said as the engine rumbled. Within seconds, the motor whined as they tore along a winding road leading away from Jabari’s home. They descended into the valley in a matter of minutes before getting halted by a train huffing and puffing its way along the tracks.

  Richard stared, his mouth agape, at the long number of cars stretching out behind the engine. “We’re never going to make it out of here.”

  Amir twisted the accelerator handle and tore off in a different direction. Less than a minute later, they were parked on the top of a nearby plateau.

  “What are we doing?” Richard asked.

  “We’re going to leap over the train so we can make it to the docks in time.”

  “Have you done this before?”

  The concierge ignored the question as he glanced over his shoulder. He then revved his engine and flew down the road. Near the bottom of the hill was a small berm that ran parallel to the tracks. Richard could tell they had sufficient speed to get airborne once they hit the natural ramp, but the lingering question remained: Would it be high enough?

  “Lean forward when we jump,” Amir said. “I’ll lean back into you.”

  Richard nodded and looked for the end of the train, which still wasn’t in sight. The cars huffed along as they neared the moment of truth.

  When the bike hit the berm, they were launched into the air. But Richard could immediately tell they weren’t high enough to clear the top of the train. However, he hadn’t sees the genius in the timing at first. Amir had them poised to leap over a flatcar, which was the first in a long sequence stacked with logs and only about half the height of a boxcar.

  Richard gripped Amir tighter and leaned forward as instructed. Glancing down as they passed over the train, Richard guessed they cleared it by a few inches. When they hit the ground, the motorcycle couldn’t absorb all the force, sending them bouncing along for a few meters before Amir lost control. The bike slid out from underneath them as they skidded along the sand, stopping a few feet shy of the Nile.

  A woman who stood nearby washing her clothes along the riverbank stared wide-eyed at them. She grabbed her two children, clutching them against her legs before shouting at the two daredevils in Arabic.

  Richard staggered to his feet and smiled at the woman before giving her a friendly wave. Amir dusted himself off and snatched Richard by the back of his collar, dragging him toward the bike.

  “We must keep going if we’re going to make it,” Amir said.

  Richard glanced down at Amir’s shirt, which was covered in blood. “Your arm doesn’t look so good. Are you sure you can continue?”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Amir said as he picked the bike up and started it. “I can still drive. Now get on.”

  Richard saddled up, wrapping his arms around Amir. “Why do you care so much about what happens to Jabari?”

  “When I was a young boy, I lost my father. He was forced into working at a mine without a choice. Six months later, he died when one of the tunnels collapsed and trapped him inside. I know what it’s like to grow up without a father and watch your mother do all she can to help you barely survive. No child deserves that.”

  The back wheel flung dirt in the air as they sped toward the dock, which didn’t look much farther than a couple kilometers away. With arms spread wide, Amir hunched over the handlebars, focused on making it to the dock in time.

  “You’re going to need to hurry,” Amir said over his shoulder.

  Richard nodded as he watched the crew begin to remove the ropes from the pylons. They were less than half a kilometer away.

  Come on, come on.

  As soon as Amir skidded to a stop, Richard leapt off the back of the bike and sprinted down the dock. The plank connecting the ship to the deck had already been removed, while the workers methodically put away all the gear and supplies utilized when keeping a ship the size of the steamer close to the shore.

  The boat slowly churned through the water, giving Richard hope that he could reach the edge and leap onto the deck. But as he neared and prepared to leap, a man stuck his arm out, clotheslining Richard and knocking him to the ground. Undaunted by the setback, he scrambled to his feet and backed up a few steps before making another run at reaching the boat, ignoring the man who impeded the attempt. Richard realized he was unlikely to make a successful jump but figured he could swim up to edge and pull himself aboard without much trouble.

  As he neared the edge of the dock, the same man grabbed a fistful of Richard’s collar and pulled him to the ground.

  I’ll just swim for it.

  Richard leaned over the water and was about to dive in when the man grabbed him a third time. As Richard shuffled backward from the river’s edge, the man broke into a deep hearty laugh. With wide eyes, Richard shook his head, grateful that he’d been stopped.

  Swirling around the dock was a trio of crocodiles, a couple of them snapping up at the workers.

  Richard turned toward the man. “Thank you.”

  The man shook his head. “You would be dead by now if I hadn’t stopped you.”

  “I now understand that,” Richard said. “Thank you for being persistent in stopping me.”

  And while Richard was grateful that he hadn’t been captured or devoured by three reptiles, it didn’t change the fact that he had lost the steamboat and with it the chance to keep track of Wilhelm and his Reichswehr unit.

  Richard walked back toward the shore, honing in on Amir.

  “That was bad luck,” Amir said as he shrugged. “And you’ll need some good luck if you expect to find Jabari.”

  Richard shook his head. “More than luck, I need a way to get down the river.”

  Chapter 15

  WILHELM LEANED BACK in his chair positioned against the wall of his first-class cabin and took a long pull on his glass of scotch. The trip down the Nile to Luxor was anything but a pleasure cruise, yet he felt like his men needed to rest a little before the difficult task ahead. It also gave them the opportunity to plan in peace without some foreign spy meddling in their affairs.

  Hans Reinhard paced around the room before stopping to stare out the window
.

  “Pour yourself a drink,” Wilhelm said to his second in command. “You look like you could use one.”

  “I’d trade it all to be able to share this moment with my family,” Reinhard said.

  “Just don’t forget they are who you are doing this for. What this team is doing is important work not only for our country but also for the rest of the world. It’s pretty clear that people everywhere are adrift at sea and need someone to help steady their ship and steer it in the right direction.”

  “And you’re sure Germany is the one to do that?” Reinhard asked.

  “Have you forgotten what the rest of the world has done to us? In their arrogance, these world leaders have forced a yoke around our necks that we can barely breathe, let alone thrive. We must show them that we see through their guises and don’t need their help.”

  “Is this really possible? Can Germany be that force in the world?”

  Wilhelm smiled. “You must never underestimate the power of money—or mankind’s greed for it. If you possess enough riches, you can change even the most defiant minds. And when you have enough power, people will see things the way you want them to. Obviously, we didn’t have a sufficient amount of either of those two things during the Great War. But when we strike again, we’ll have both—and we’ll have our way with the world.”

  “I hope so,” Reinhard said. “If there’s one thing I don’t want, it’s for my children to grow up in a country so ravished by war that hope is in short supply.”

  “Your daughters will not only have hope, they will have prestige and privilege as citizens of the greatest nation on earth. And you are one of the elite members of this Reichswehr unit who will help give it to them.”

  A hint of a smile appeared on Reinhard’s face. “That’s definitely something worth fighting for.”

  Wilhelm sighed. “But we have a long way to go before we get there, including a very important mission awaiting us. I think it’s time we had a little talk with our guide.”

  “I’ll go get him,” Reinhard said before exiting the cabin.

  A few minutes later, he returned with Jabari Gamal in tow.

  “Mr. Gamal,” Wilhelm said, gesturing toward the chair opposite of him, “why don’t you take a seat. We need to have a conversation.”

  “About what? About how you threatened my family?” Jabari said as he narrowed his eyes.

  Wilhelm held his hand up. “Would you like a drink?”

  Jabari didn’t flinch, refusing to answer Wilhelm’s question.

  “I find that a stiff drink relaxes me a little, especially when I’m in tense situations.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  “Well, you’re missing out. But let’s discuss our objectives here on this dig.”

  Jabari crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, remaining silent.

  “Perhaps I should just tell you what you’re going to do for us,” Wilhelm said. “I hate making threats, but I’ve found that sometimes they are necessary to coerce stubborn people to comply with my demands. And trust me when I say this, you don’t want to see me keep my word with a stubborn person. But you will if you don’t become more compliant.”

  “What do you want?” Jabari asked.

  “We want to dig in the Valley of the Kings.”

  Jabari burst into laughter. “Why not just ask for wings so you can soar above the Sahara? That might be more possible given my limited powers in such realms.”

  “Then make it possible.”

  “I’m afraid you don’t understand how this works,” Jabari said. “You can’t just thrust your shovels into the ground and start sifting through the sand on your quest to find treasures. There are rules for how you can dig in this country, rules that are closely followed to avoid suffering severe consequences.”

  “What kind of rules?”

  “You must receive the proper permits or else risk getting escorted out of the country, never to be allowed re-entry.”

  Wilhelm shrugged. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “The application process takes up to a year for approval from a committee at the Egyptian Archeological Society. They control everything, like who digs where and for how long. I’m sorry to deliver this disappointing news to you, but I won’t be able to help in the way that you expect.”

  “What I expect, Mr. Gamal, is that we will be digging within twenty-four hours upon arrival at the Valley of the Kings. That is what you will do for me or else suffer a fate worse than death.”

  “Despite what you think about people who live in Egypt, I am not a genie. I cannot snap my fingers and make something appear out of thin air.”

  Wilhelm nodded at Reinhard, who walked over to the closet and dug out a large briefcase before handing it to his boss. After unlatching the locks, Wilhelm opened the top and spun it around so Jabari could see the contents—tight stacks of cash.

  “Do you think this might help you become more genie-like? Wilhelm asked.

  Jabari’s eyes widened as he drew back. “I’m not sure that I can just walk into the Egyptian Archeological Society’s office and throw money at them to get a permit to dig.”

  “Mr. Gamal, I don’t know anyone at the society, but I do know people. And people respond to offers like this without questioning why or what you’re doing, that much I can promise you. Now, do you think you can get us a permit?”

  Jabari shrugged. “I guess with enough money anything is possible, but I won’t make any promises.”

  “I don’t want promises—I want results.”

  “I will do my best with whatever resources you give me.”

  Wilhelm grinned. “Good, because your family’s life depends on it. Now, Mr. Reinhard will escort you back to your room.”

  For the next ten minutes, Wilhelm finished his drink while inspecting the document he’d taken from Dr. Miller’s home. He wasn’t prepared to show it to his guide just yet, but Wilhelm knew he would have to eventually and then ensure that Jabari never left the team’s sight.

  A knock at the door jolted Wilhelm out of his brooding.

  “Come in,” he said.

  Reinhard returned, clutching a small envelope.

  “Did you get the guide settled back into his quarters?” Wilhelm asked.

  “He was less than compliant this time around, but he eventually acquiesced,” Reinhard said. “However, I passed a member of the ship’s staff who said that a telegram arrived for you at our last stop.”

  “A telegram?” Wilhelm asked. “Who would—”

  He stopped and took a deep breath. While getting contacted on a mission wasn’t entirely abnormal, there was only one person who could trace the steps of the team closely enough to reach them with a message.

  “It’s from Seeckt, isn’t it?” Wilhelm asked.

  Reinhard shrugged. “I haven’t opened it yet.”

  Wilhelm strode across the room and handed a decoder to Reinhard. “Use this to translate it for me, and then read it aloud.”

  Reinhard followed Wilhelm’s instructions. While his second in command pored over the letters to make sense of the message, Wilhelm wondered what kind of fiery note he was about to read from the commander of the Germany army. If Seeckt was reacting in such a manner, one that endangered the entire mission, something had changed. Or maybe the mission was to be aborted altogether. Seeckt wasn’t the kind of man to give up early. He was cold and calculating, just the kind of leader the military needed during rebuilding years. With Seeckt at the helm, the Reichswehr could find its footing—and its funding—far earlier than anyone ever expected. And Wilhelm knew sometimes a surprise attack could help a lesser group of soldiers defeat a more robust and better-trained troop. Seeckt didn’t just want to level the playing field with surprise; he wanted to tilt it in his favor. The tactic was one Wilhelm appreciated and fully understood required exquisite precision. Yet he couldn’t help but grow anxious about all his theories regarding Seeckt’s surprising letter.

  “Have you finished the decoding
process?” Wilhelm asked as he wrung his hands and started to pace around the room.

  “I almost have it,” Reinhard said. “Give me one more minute.”

  Wilhelm found the suspense agonizing. One way or another, something was afoot. And he couldn’t imagine any of the reasons being good.

  “Here it is,” Reinhard said, offering it to Wilhelm.

  He waved away the letter dismissively. “You read it to me.”

  Reinhard cleared his throat and followed instructions.

  Wilhelm,

  The incident in Marseille has raised more inquiries. Proceed with caution. Do not leave a trail that will put us in danger. I am watching.

  H.v.S.

  Wilhelm stood and cursed. The veins in his neck bulged as he stormed around the room, muttering about the message. To conclude his tantrum, he stomped his foot before smashing his glass onto the floor.

  Reinhard cocked his head and stared, mouth agape. “What exactly do you find so unsettling about this message?”

  “How does Seeckt know what happened in Marseille? How did Seeckt find us here along the Nile in the middle of nowhere? He must have embedded a spy within our own troop. And I find that absolutely revolting. If he doesn’t trust me to handle this mission, he shouldn’t have asked me to do it.”

  “I’m sure Seeckt is confident you can get the job done,” Reinhard said. “Maybe he just wants you to exercise more care since the fallout could be more stringent sanctions due to the terms of the Treaty of Versailles.”

  “Did you read the same letter I heard?” Wilhelm asked as he narrowed his eyes. “Seeckt is watching us. Someone is reporting our movements back to him, and he felt the need to warn me as if I’m some child who must be minded. Our mission is to bring back a treasure trove to Berlin, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to fail. There are always casualties in war—and don’t be fooled by that treaty. We are still at war.”

  “Regardless, we can’t ignore what Seeckt has said, or else we will surely suffer the consequences,” Reinhard said.