by Rai Aren
“There’s so much we don’t know about the Pharom,” Mitch sighed.
“Yeah,” Jack agreed, “and that makes me kind of nervous. Here we are carting it around like a sack of potatoes.”
“I think we’d really only get into trouble with it once it’s activated on the platform,” Mitch said.
“What if it’s emitting some kind of freaky radiation?” Jack asked.
“Well, for starters, we wouldn’t have to worry about hair color anymore,” Alex said, nudging him with her elbow.
Mitch laughed.
“I never thought of that…” Bob said.
“Don’t,” Mitch said. “We have enough to worry about right now.”
A horde of laughing children went running past them. The foursome stepped aside to let them pass. They walked on through the narrow dirt streets of the marketplace. Exotic smells and sights and loud chatter assailed their senses. Here and there was the heady smell of Egyptian incense. Colorful fabrics, clothing, shoes, purses, jewelry and replicas of Egyptian treasures were everywhere. Merchants called out to them as they passed, eager to sell their wares. Some bolder ones would step out, blocking their path. They quietly moved around them like fish swimming around stones in a stream.
They continued on, not sure of their destination.
“I do wonder though, how the Pharom can interfere with cellphone and radio signals. This technology is something else,” Alex said. “Is it constantly emitting some sort of energy or did we trigger something again?”
“Too bad we don’t have more time to study it,” Mitch said somberly.
“What are we going to do now?” Alex asked. “We can’t run and hide for long. We have to help Dr. Khadesh and Khamir.”
“We’re going to have to call Maximilian and setup a meeting for the exchange,” he replied.
“You do realize he’ll mostly likely kill us all, starting with Dr. Khadesh and Khamir once he gets hold of the Pharom,” Bob said.
Mitch nodded in agreement. “Then, we’ll need something to tip the favor to our side. Perhaps we can use the Pharom’s unique properties to our advantage and settle this once and for all.”
yyyyy
“Excuse me, Mr. Reichmann,” the voice of a female receptionist said on the other end of the line. “Sorry to bother you, but there’s a man who keeps calling Reichmann Enterprise’s Middle Eastern office, demanding to talk to you. He said you gave him a faulty cellphone at the airport.”
Maximilian’s eyes lit up. He had been waiting for contact. “Put them through, Ms. Jones,” Maximilian said as he adjusted his satellite phone in his office in the old rundown building he had rented. She made the connection. “Reichmann here,” he said with his heavily accented voice.
“Maximilian!” Alex shouted over the disposable cellphone they picked up for cash at a local shop. “You double crossing son of a…!”
“Language, Ms. Logan. That’s not something a lady would say.”
Alex shrieked even louder as a tirade of profanity and curses echoed over the phone.
“Alex, calm down,” Mitch said. “Remember why we called him.” The foursome was huddled in an alleyway, out of sight, still dressed in their Egyptian clothes and headscarves. Mitch and Alex held the phone between them, but they had the volume turned up just high enough on the phone so they all could hear what was being said.
“Why didn’t you stick to the plan?” Alex demanded. “We were waiting for your call to make plans to meet. Why the ambush?”
“To put it simply, I don’t trust you,” Maximilian replied. “But don’t worry, it’s nothing personal, I don’t trust anyone really. I prefer to do things on my own terms.”
Alex stifled a scream.
“That’s pretty rich,” Mitch said. “We’re the ones who don’t trust you, but at least we were going to go through with our end of the bargain.”
“I couldn’t be certain of that,” he replied.
“Well, now you have to do things on our terms,” Mitch said. “Because we still have what you’re looking for. Despite your cheap bag of tricks and various inept goons.”
Maximilian was incensed at the insult. “You seem to forget I have your friends, Mr. Carver,” he seethed. “Why on earth would I do things on your terms?”
“Because, if you don’t,” Alex said, her voice tight with anger and frustration, “we will go to the embassy and tell them everything.”
“Oh, really?” He laughed coldly. “Your tough stance is quite amusing, but you’re bluffing. You need Dr. Khadesh and Khamir to get you out of trouble with the Egyptian police. Otherwise you’ll never leave this country. Except in body bags.”
No response.
“Besides, I also know you care about them,” he continued. “A great deal. And that makes you weak and limits your options to one.”
“Not one,” Mitch countered, “two.”
Maximilian was surprised at their resolve. “Let’s hypothetically say you don’t care about your friends and are prepared to go to the US Embassy. The Egyptian police will be monitoring it, since I’m sure they’ll expect you will try and contact them. You would not get within fifty feet of it without an army of police swooping in on you. Even if you could get into the embassy, what exactly would you tell them?” Maximilian waited for a reply.
Silence.
Maximilian continued, “Are you going to tell them all the secrets you withheld from the archaeological and scientific communities about an ancient civilization pre-dating Egyptian history? Or about how you stole an artifact from the Egyptian people? Their government doesn’t take too kindly to such things. You could kiss your careers goodbye. But the best of all is that you are in possession of what could be considered an extremely dangerous weapon. And you’ve already been branded terrorists. You would face a swift death sentence, I assure you.”
Bob and Jack looked worried.
“We’re not going to the US Embassy,” Mitch said. “We’re going to the German Embassy. I doubt the Egyptian police would be looking for us there.”
Maximilian didn’t respond.
“Got your attention now, don’t we?” Mitch continued.
Alex high-fived him.
“We’re going to tell them that you are corrupt,” Mitch said. “We’re going to show the German government the device and tell them you have been trying to steal this priceless artifact from the Egyptian people and that we’ve already told our story to a local reporter, to ensure our own safety of course.”
Maximilian said nothing as he considered Mitch’s threats.
Mitch carried on, knowing they had Maximilian at a disadvantage for once, “We have nothing to lose any longer, you’ve seen to that. We’ll also tell them your father stole another priceless artifact, the Sun Disk, when the Nazis were in Northern Africa. Since the German government has gone out of their way to reconcile and compensate nations for their prior bad deeds, I’m sure they will be most concerned about further embarrassment. Your money and influence may not mean much in the realm of international politics and public disclosure. You’ve always banked on secrecy, controlling things from the shadows. We’re going to remove that option from you. They’ll consider you a liability. One that will need to be dealt with. Swiftly.”
“I will kill you,” Maximilian said, his voice low and threatening.
“But not before we cause you a world of problems,” Mitch shot back. “You hurt Dr. Khadesh and Khamir and we will go to the German Embassy.”
Maximilian burned with silent fury. He slammed his fist down on his desk.
The four friends heard it, and smiled.
“I’ll take that as your implicit agreement to cooperate. This is what you are going to do,” Mitch said firmly. “Bring Dr. Khadesh and Khamir to the Sphinx tonight at eleven. We’ll bring the device and make the ex
change. No tricks. No police.”
“Very well,” Maximilian said through clenched teeth. “Your friends and I will be there. The four of you better be there with the device. I will know if it’s real, so do not think you can deceive me. If you try anything, anything at all, I promise you that Dr. Khadesh and Khamir will meet a very grisly end.”
“Wait!” Alex said. “How do we even know if Dr. Khadesh and Khamir are still alive or unharmed?”
“You will have to trust me.”
The phone beeped and went silent.
Chapter 49
Unrest Grows, Circa 10,000 B.C.
COMMANDER Maraeven was reporting in regularly to the King, who anxiously awaited a break in their investigations, but there was still no trace of the missing staff members, Rekar and Shera, nor word of Zhek of any kind. They had traveled to Tessea and searched the home of Rekar and Shera, but it appeared abandoned. Neighbors claimed they did not know where they were, and had not seen them in days. Commander Maraeven suspected the villagers of a cover-up, so he had his soldiers search every home, every building. No trace could be found of them and there was no mention of Zhek Draxen. The traitors had thought things through and the villagers had closed ranks.
The Commander and his soldiers had taken many villagers aside for questioning, but this only further ignited an already explosive situation. People would follow them, demanding their loved ones and family members be released immediately. The interrogations were being taken as a sign that the King was tightening his grip and would destroy anyone who crossed him.
To make matters worse, the desperate attempts to find Zhek, along with the rest of his supporters, and bring them to justice were being hampered by the aftermath of the burning of Derepet. The time and resources it took to cope with the tragedy was keeping them off Zhek’s trail. Zhek had been clever – the King was now dealing with multiple problems on multiple fronts.
After the fruitless trip to Tessea, the Commander returned to the main city without the culprits. He sought out the King.
Traeus could see the frustration on the face of his Commander.
“Your Majesty, they are gone,” Maraeven said. “No one in the village is talking. They are most definitely hiding something.” He shook his head in fury. “Should we take some of them into custody? There is no one there we can trust, I am sure of it. I can feel it.”
“And risk yet another example of the Royal Family trying to punish another village?” Traeus shook his head. “No, I cannot authorize that. Our enemies are clever. They know exactly what they are doing. They expect that we will believe the villagers are all lying to us and hiding the traitors, but they also know that with the unrest caused by the fall of Derepet, we will not act as decisively and aggressively as we would otherwise. Should we do so, the fear and suspicion will only escalate. They have tied our hands.”
“With all due respect, your Majesty, we must contain the threat!” The Commander’s usual cool reserve was becoming undone. “The people will want to know we are acting to protect them. I have heard reports that people in the surrounding villages are terrified they will be the next to be attacked.”
“Yes,” the King answered, “and some may still believe it will be by us!” He took his Commander firmly by the shoulders. He lowered his voice. “We must proceed carefully.”
The Commander huffed. His face was red and twisted with exasperation.
“Commander, listen to me, the Draxen family is a curse on the Kierani people, but we cannot allow them to cause us any more missteps. We must exercise extreme caution. This situation is far too volatile.”
The Commander did not reply. He only listened, slowly calming down.
“Until Zhek is destroyed and his allies captured and punished, no one will be safe,” the King said, trying to keep an even tone. “Our priority must be to find Zhek, or at least find out what he is up to. That is urgent. Keep searching for Rekar and Shera, as well. If we can find them, they can lead us to Zhek. It is all we can do right now.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
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As the news about the burning of Derepet spread, the King realized the matter needed to be addressed before any more of Zhek’s lies took hold in his people’s minds. He called an assembly at the main temple and informed his people that the village had been laid waste to and that all but three villagers had been slain.
The crowd immediately erupted in shock and grief. Many assembled had friends in the village. Traeus quickly explained that the assailants were at this time unknown. He kept back the truth. He also said the reason for the attack was unclear, except for one thing. He told the people that those who had senselessly slaughtered the innocent and peaceful villagers in their homes were masquerading as Royal soldiers. Traeus had not wanted to divulge that detail, but word had already leaked out. The assailants had known what they were doing in leaving the three survivors. Word about what happened would not stay contained.
The crowd continued to react with an explosive mixture of anger, grief, and suspicion.
Head Priest Odai stepped in pleading, trying to calm the unruly crowd. “Good people, those that did this are trying to frame our King. They wanted to turn the people against the Royal Family.”
“Why should we believe this?” someone shouted from the crowd.
“On my oath as your spiritual leader, this was not the Royal Family’s doing. Please do not fall into this deception. Do not let these evil doers blind you to the truth with their lies!” he pleaded.
Odai continued to beg for their reason and understanding and faith in their leaders, but he could not quell the rising tide of emotion and heated protest.
The Princess then tried to reason with the gathered crowd. “If you do not believe my father, your King, if you do not believe our Head Priest, whose order has always stood for honor and for what is right, then believe me. Not because I am the Child of the Prophecy, but because Uta and Ehrim were my second family and I loved them.”
The crowd shouted angry words back at her.
“How do we know the King was not jealous and vengeful towards those who kept his only daughter from him?” one man yelled.
Voices from all over the gathering began to express fear and suspicion. The situation was rapidly getting out of control.
She put her arms out to try and quiet them. “My father would never do such a thing to them. He would never hurt me like that. You know him, he has never been that kind of man, that kind of leader!”
More anger, more threats, more doubters and dissent.
The Princess kept trying to reach her people. She waved her arms. “Do you think I would stand here in support of him if I had any doubt as to his innocence in this matter?” She was fighting back tears. She knew what was at stake. “You must not let those responsible destroy our society, our way of life. Together we can bring an end to these terrible acts, but only if we do not turn on one another.”
“Who is next?” someone yelled. “Who will be next to die?”
“Anyone who crosses the King!” another person answered back.
“Just like Assan!” a man yelled out, in a clear challenge to the King.
The crowd was abuzz with talk of how the King must have harbored resentment against those who had been involved in keeping his daughter from him.
Dissenters turned again on the King. “First Assan is killed,” the man continued, growing hostile and bold, “and you claim he died accidentally in a mysterious fire. And yet it was he who took the Princess from you. Now the people who kept her from you all those years are dead, and again you say you were not involved. But you are the only one who had been wronged by these people!”