by Rob Jones
“It’s better than nothing, nerd,” Lexi shouted from the other room.
Ryan ignored her. “We have a heap of notebooks belonging to Giovanni and Dario Mazzarro, some of which look like they’re older than the actual pyramids.”
Alex was determined to keep him focused. “And what do those things tell us?”
“The symbols on the map pointed us to Egypt, and now it looks like they’re referring to the ancient Egyptian god Osiris.”
“And what do we know about him?”
“The same as everyone else – ancient Egyptian god of the afterlife and the dead, usually portrayed as having green skin. The oldest son of Geb, bla bla bla.”
“Or Ra, depending on who you read.”
“Sure.”
They heard a tongue-click from the bed. “Relevance?”
“The relevance, Scarlet, is that he was right at the top of the tree of gods in Egyptian culture, just like Poseidon, and…”
“Wait!” Alex picked up one of the notebooks and showed it to Ryan. “Look at this!”
Ryan stared at the page for a few seconds, open jawed. “No way!”
Eden moved forward. “Mr Bale?”
“Surely not…!”
“Ryan!” snapped Scarlet, spinning her legs off the bed and joining them at the desk. “Stop being a silly little tit and tell us what’s going on. Our people are missing.”
“These notes here seem to be indicating that…”
“What is it?” Eden asked keenly. “What have you got?”
“The Phaistos Disc.”
“I’m sorry?”
Alex smiled and turned to Ryan. “Do you want to tell them or should I?”
“The Phaistos Disc,” Ryan said again, ignoring her. “It was discovered in Crete in 1908 by the Italian archaeologist Luigi Pernier.”
Scarlet frowned. “And why do we give a damn about this, Ryan?”
Eden looked annoyed. “Let him get started, Scarlet, at least.”
“Thanks, Rich. Now, Pernier was a close friend of Giovanni Mazzaro later in life. And according to this they worked together on the disc, which according to history, no one’s ever been able to decipher.”
“But...?”
Ryan was hungrily reading the notes as he was relaying them to the others. “But Dario Mazzarro claims his father did so, and that it made references to a war between Poseidon and Osiris – a war over a map.”
Scarlet smiled . “What a surprise – another shagging map!”
“You betcha. He claims his father’s translation is accurate, and that it refers to the elixir of eternal life.”
“The source of the gods’ immortality?” Eden asked.
Alex shrugged. “Who knows? Now we’re getting into whether there’s a difference between an immortal man and a deity, and that’s way above my pay grade.”
Ryan sighed. “Well, actually…”
“Ryan, no time,” Scarlet said. “Alex, please continue.”
Alex laughed and took the notebook from Ryan. “Sure… Anyway, according to Mazzarro here, the map was even older than the gods of ancient Egypt and Greece, a kind of precious relic handed down to them from an older time. He claims they couldn’t agree on who would own the map, so they tore it in two and kept half each. Half was buried with Poseidon in his tomb in Kefalonia, and the other half disappeared into mythical history.”
For the first time since Sophie’s death, Ryan leaned back in his chair and laughed. “What’s so funny?” Eden asked.
“Nothing, really,” he said. “Just that all that effort by Emperor Qin just to raid Poseidon’s tomb and get the map and he only ever had half of the thing. Even if he’d been able to translate it he still wouldn’t have got anywhere.”
“So where’s the other half?” Eden asked.
“In Osiris’s tomb, I presume. That’s where Mazzarro comes in.”
“So we still need Mazzarro to find the tomb of Osiris?” Lexi said.
“We can find a bloody tomb without Mazzarro!” Ryan said, suddenly indignant.
“Sure we can!” Scarlet said. “I can find any tomb in the world, so long as the golden incentive is there…”
“But what does all this mean for us right now?” Lexi asked.
“It means we can do it – not only do we now know that Osiris was real and that he and Poseidon fought over the map, but we also know for sure that there are two halves of the map and that we – and Vetrov – only have half of it. If we can cross-reference Mazzarro’s research with the Phaistos Disc we should be able to translate the map faster.”
“But we still need Osiris’s half of the map if we’re going to find the Tomb of Eternity, right?” said Scarlet.
Alex nodded. “We can start translating the map we have right now thanks to this new information about the disc, but we only have half the map. Without the other half we’re never going to find the tomb, no.”
“So we raid the tomb, simples,” Scarlet said.
“If you’re sure Osiris was real,” Lexi said.
Ryan nodded. “If this is right, then it strongly suggests Osiris was real.”
“You mean like Poseidon?”
“Exactly – not a mythical figure but really here, in Egypt.”
“Woah!” Alex said, staring at the map.
”What is it?” Ryan said, turning toward her.
“This glyph right here – it’s the same as one on the Phaistos Disc that Mazzarro claims means Ipet-isut.”
Ryan’s jaw went slack. “No way!”
“Ryan!” Scarlet shouted.
“It means the most selected of places – it’s a reference to Karnak.”
“I don’t believe it.” Alex said. “So obvious, now...”
“I’ll say,” Ryan added. “The Hek-Djet – of course!”
Scarlet leaned in close to Ryan and tweaked his ear. “Stop talking in riddles and tell me what all this means, boy, or I’m going to take you outside.”
Ryan looked up at her and smirked. “You can take me in here if you like.”
“Ugh,” Scarlet said, and pushed him away. “In your wildest dreams that would still not happen.”
Alex looked on, bemused, before speaking. “It’s the Osiris Hek-Djet if the lecture’s going to be formal. It means Osiris, the Ruler of Eternity. Karnak is regarded as pretty much one of Egypt’s most important sites for archaeological artefacts. The thing is, if Mazzarro’s decipher matrix is right, then these hieroglyphics aren’t directing us to the Osiris Hek-Djet exactly, but beneath it.”
“Beneath it?” Lexi said, surprised.
Alex nodded. “Now we know how to translate all this it’s pretty obvious when you look at it. If Mazzarro’s research is right, then the Phaistos Disc makes a clear reference to the map being torn in two, one half going to Poseidon in Kefalonia and the other half going to Osiris – in the Hek-Djet. This is ancient knowledge.”
“And this means?” Scarlet asked.
Eden stepped forward. “It means we’re going to the Temple of Amun Ra in Luxor, right?”
Alex and Ryan nodded.
“Good,” Eden said flatly. “Start packing the gear up – we leave as soon as possible.”
“But what about Joe?” Ryan asked.
“Hawke has for as long as it takes us to pack up. After that he misses the boat and he’s on his own.” Eden looked at Scarlet and they shared a glance. “We can do this without Joe Hawke if we have to… we’ve done so plenty of times in the past, after all.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Hawke scrambled up from the wrecked motorbike and sprinted over to Snowcat, who was now lying in the gutter and surrounded by a mix of concerned and angry street traders. He pushed his way through the crowd and saw she was clutching her arm and wincing in pain. He could see blood just above the elbow of her suit jacket.
He moved down to her while keeping one eye on the street behind the bustling traders, who were now beginning to shout in Arabic at them. The white Escalade had slowed down to nav
igate through the bustling crowd. The crowd parted and the Escalade drew nearer like a lion about to make its death blow.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She turned and screamed something in Arabic, sending the crowd running for their lives, and then she fired the Makarov at the Escalade, hitting the gas tank and exploding the vehicle into a massive fireball. “I think so,” she said. “It’s just a flesh wound.”
“Er…all right then,” Hawke said, seeing the Russian’s no-nonsense approach applied with such good timing. “Good, because I think we’ve outstayed our welcome – that fireball is going to have every cop in Cairo here in a few short minutes.”
He helped her stand. By now another large crowd of passers-by had formed to see what all the fuss was about, and Hawke tried to push his way through them but there were just too many.
Suddenly he heard another gunshot, close and loud. He ducked as the crowd broke apart and people screamed and ran for cover all over again.
“Get down, Snowcat!” he shouted, turning to pull her to safety, but as he did so he saw her standing behind him, smoking Makarov held aloft.
“What the..?”
“Russian way of dispersing a crowd,” she said coolly, and slipped the gun back inside her pocket.
“The Russian way, or your way?” he asked smiling, and pulled himself back up from the dusty street.
“A little of both, I guess.” He saw a sparkle in her blues eyes that he hadn’t noticed before, and guessed that just like him, she was happiest when in the field, on the edge of things.
“Well, in that case…” he stopped in his tracks.
“What is it?”
He pointed behind her and she turned to see what he was showing her.
They watched in horror as a fully-armed Boeing AH-64 Apache helicopter emerged from the Cairo smog and turned in their direction. Hellfire missiles, Hydra 70 rocket pods and, sitting right up front, a 30 mm M230 chain gun.
“This is turning into a really bad day,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief at what he was seeing.
“Tell me about it – that bullet just put a hole right through my best jacket.”
Hawke went to reply, but stopped when he saw the expression on Snowcat’s face.
“So what do we do?” she asked, pointing at the bike. We can’t out run it on that – it’s totally wrecked.”
She was right. The Kreidler had definitely polluted its last day, and was now nothing more than a pile of rusted metal and burned rubber with a badly bent front axle. Worse, the helicopter gunship was getting closer.
“No, we run over there,” he said, pointing at the Giza pyramid complex.
“Run into the pyramids?” she said, her eyes widening. “You have to be crazy! This isn’t The Spy Who Loved Me… I hope you realize that.”
“Yes, funnily enough I had realized that, but now it’s our only chance of surviving this.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, crazy Englishman. Let’s do it.”
With no other choice and a fully armed Apache on their backs, Hawke led Snowcat out of the labyrinthine stacks of houses and across a wide boulevard shaded with beautiful flame trees.
The scene changed fast as they turned the corner. Behind them was the everyday life, junk and clutter of the Giza suburbs, but now they were in ancient Egypt. They stared right into the eyes of the Great Sphinx which sat in the bright sunshine a few hundred yards ahead of them.
Hawke watched as a large tour bus pulled up beside them and he turned to Snowcat.
“Follow me.”
“What are we doing?”
“We’re about to go on honeymoon together.” As he spoke he offered her his arm.
She slipped her arm through his and drew closer to him as they sneaked their way into the crowd of German tourists now filing out of the bus and making their way up the broad, gravel path which led to the Sphinx. The tourists stopped to look at the column of smoke rising silently from the roofline a few blocks away.
“It’s a barbecue,” Hawke said as he passed them.
A couple of men were selling hats and water in the shade of a date palm. Hawke stepped over to them and handed them a fifty dollar bill for two hats, which he and Snowcat immediately put on.
“Bastards won’t be able to see us now,” Hawke said as they made their way into the middle of the crowd.
Hawke turned to see the Apache gain height. It was trying to get a better view of where they were, but also making itself look more like a regular helicopter – just a black shadow against a bright blue sky and no one paying particular attention.
“I just don’t understand how the hell they got a sodding Apache on us so fast,” Hawke muttered. “But that’s a problem for later. For now, we have to give them the slip. We’ll pretend to be tourists until that bloody chopper gets bored and then we need to get back to the others as soon as possible… and you have some talking to do.”
“Agreed,” Snowcat said.
They walked amongst the tourists through the lines of market traders selling thousands of souvenirs – key-rings, paperweights, t-shirts, silk headdresses – and gradually drew closer to the Sphinx where the Germans stopped and took pictures.
“Smaller than I thought it would be,’ Hawke said, nodding at the Sphinx. “What about you?”
“Guess so. I’ve seen it many times.”
He nodded and turned to look at the Apache, pretending to point at the Sphinx as he did so. He estimated it was probably around two thousand feet now, and the pilot would be using a helmet-mounted display and zooming in on the crowd to identify them.
He’d known an Apache pilot when he was on tour in Afghanistan and knew how they worked. He knew how they were trained to take in two separate streams of information from each eye – the left one focussed on the cockpit and the right one focussing through the FLIR camera on the outside world. The fact he was being hunted right now by someone with those skills worried him a lot, but not as much as the problem he had with Maxim Vetrov being able to source an asset like an AH-64 and fly it in Cairo airspace at such short notice. Something wasn’t right.
Then things got much worse.
The Apache began to lose altitude and fly toward the crowd of tourists.
“They’ve found us!” Hawke shouted, grabbing Snowcat by the arm. “We have to get out of here – now they’ve located us we’re putting these tourists at risk.”
Out of nowhere, Hawke saw the familiar orange flash and puff of white smoke from the pylon beneath the Apache’s wing, and then watched in horror as a hellfire missile raced toward them. A second later they heard the screeching sound of the missile in the sky and hundreds of people on the ground looked up and saw the terror rapidly approaching them.
Hawke turned to the crowd and screamed. “Run!”
A wave of panic rippled through the crowd and people screamed and scattered for their lives. A cloud of dust rose up into the air from the stampede of people and camels and blocked Hawke’s view of the Apache but he was too busy sprinting for cover to notice.
He and Snowcat hurled themselves toward a low limestone-concrete wall and just cleared it as the hellfire exploded on the road behind them, throwing great piles of rocks and dust into the air amidst an enormous fireball. A thick black cloud of smoke rose into the air and in the distance they heard the familiar wail of sirens.
The wave of terror and confusion all around them gave Hawke and Snowcat a moment to consider their next move.
“I can’t believe those nutcases fired on innocent tourists!” Hawke said.
“I can,” Snowcat muttered, almost to herself.
“Something’s not right here. This can’t be about Maxim Vetrov trying to kill us. It just doesn’t feel right.”
Before Snowcat replied, the smoke and dust began to clear and they saw the Apache turning once again in their direction.
The missile attack had brought chaos to half of Giza, and now the whole area was alive with the noise of sirens and screams and
in the distance somewhere a man was shouting orders at the panicking mob in Arabic through a megaphone.
“They’re not done with us yet!” Snowcat said.
“Into the pyramid!” Hawke shouted.
The pyramids were a lot bigger than Hawke had thought, and as a consequence it took much longer to get to them than he had judged. With the Apache closing in at their backs, they sprinted closer to the protection of the Great Pyramid, but it just seemed like it never got any closer.
“They’re almost on us, Joe!”
Snowcat’s warning was backed up by the terrifying chatter of the massive chain gun, rising even above the noise of the four whirling stainless steel rotor blades. Seconds later the ground either side of them was torn apart by the impact of hundreds of thirty mil M788 rounds as they strafed through the dusty gravel and exploded all around them.
Hawke and Snowcat scrambled to their feet and ran along the final stretch of path until they finally reached the entrance to the pyramid. They raced inside and the walls around them exploded into dust as the Apache chain gun unloaded a few more rounds at them.
“They’re destroying the bloody pyramid!” Hawke screamed. “Richard would seriously disapprove of this.”
“I’m more worried about us, right now…” Snowcat said, looking with despair at the two rounds left in her Makarov.
“And more bad news – just like the wankers in the Escalade, they’re bloody Brits as well.”
“How do you know?” the Russian asked.
“Engine sound – that thing’s running on a Rolls Royce and the Yanks use General Electric. I noticed it back there when they stopped to aim the chain gun. I just can’t work out why my own bloody people are trying to kill me.”
“Another problem for later, but for now we can presume they will do whatever it takes to kill us.”
“Including blowing up one of the world’s oldest bloody monuments?”
“The stakes are higher than you can imagine, Hawke.”
“Oh God,” he said, rolling his eyes. “No more bloody secrets, please.”
“I don’t know what you mean – I have kept no secrets from you. All you need to know now is that your enemies are closer than you think. You can trust me if you like. If you choose not to trust me then it makes no difference to me.”