The Case of the Golden Greeks

by Sean McLachlan

  And then, disaster.

  Faisal raised his foot, slid it forward, and jabbed his toe against a sharp stone.

  He did not cry out, but he jerked his foot back from the pain and got off balance for a moment. Ahmed grabbed him to steady him, which only made it worse. His body twisted, and his legs made a ripple in the water that splashed against the wall.

  In the silent tunnel, even that little splash and the ripple that followed it sounded as loud as one of the Englishman’s gunfights.

  He heard a whisper from behind them, less muffled than before. The scraping of a shovel on sand grew louder, quicker.

  Faisal and Ahmed moved forward, less cautious about making sound now but still taking care. Faisal hoped the diggers wouldn’t hear them because of the sound of their own shovel.

  Then a faint light appeared behind them. Faisal’s heart clenched.

  The diggers had broken through.

  Faisal turned, eyes wide. The scraping continued and the light grew brighter, bright enough to see the outline of the intersection and to reflect off the black water, still rippling from Faisal’s clumsy movement.

  They’re seeing that, he thought. They know which way we went.

  Faisal tugged on Ahmed’s arm and they hurried down the aqueduct and into the unknown.

  The light behind them grew bright enough that it illuminated their way. The tunnel continued straight, with the water knee deep and no obstructions ahead.

  A shout behind them. The boys didn’t bother trying to be quiet now. They splashed through the water as fast as they could, the noise echoing down the dank tunnel.

  Suddenly they were caught in a bright light. Faisal glanced over his shoulder and saw not one, but two electric torches shining on them. They bobbed back and forth as the men holding them pursued.

  “Come on!” Ahmed said.

  “Where?” Faisal asked, his legs pumping, struggling against the water that pulled on his legs and slowed him down. This tunnel just kept going straight.

  “Don’t!” a man shouted from behind.

  Faisal looked over his shoulder, confused as to what the man meant, and saw a third man had broken ahead of the two torches. In perfect silhouette, he could clearly see he held a pistol.

  A pistol aimed at them.

  One of the men carrying a torch put a hand on the man’s pistol arm and stopped him from firing.

  Faisal was too scared to wonder much at this good luck. They kept running. Their pursuers had stopped. After a few steps, Faisal glanced over his shoulder again, eyes blinking at the bright glow of the electric torches.

  Now a new figure stood in front, backlit by the torches about forty feet behind Faisal and Ahmed. Faisal stumbled because he wasn’t looking where he was going, and paused. Something about that man looked familiar. He could only see his shape, but he thought he had seen him before.

  The man pulled what looked like a flute from beneath his robes and raised it to his lips.

  “Little brother, come on!” Ahmed stood a few paces further down the tunnel.

  Faisal leapt at his friend, hit him hard in the belly, and brought him down into the water with a splash.

  Faisal didn’t hear the poison dart fly over them. He didn’t need to.

  “Come on, and keep low!” Faisal cried.

  They splashed through the water. By some miracle, the electric torch didn’t turn off when it got dunked. It was one of the Englishman’s war things. Maybe it was designed to get wet.

  No time to think about that. The man with the blowgun was loading again.

  “Those darts are poisonous, Ahmed. Careful you don’t step on the one he already shot.”

  “How am I supposed to see it?”

  Faisal didn’t have an answer to that. It was underwater somewhere along their path, a little spike of death lying in wait.

  More death was behind them, though. They ran.

  There was a whoosh of air as a dart shot right between them.

  Another intersection came into view up ahead and Faisal got an idea. He grabbed Ahmed by the sleeve and turned off the electric torch. There was still enough light to see from the Senussi’s torches, but they were pretty far away and the boys were in shadow. They’d make a harder target.

  Except that the two of them running side by side took up almost the whole tunnel.

  When they got to the intersection, Faisal pulled Ahmed to the right just before a dart shot past.

  They paused for a moment, trying to catch their breath. The sound of splashing footsteps growing closer spurred them into action.

  Faisal glanced around. He could barely see anything, but he could see that the tunnel they had ducked into was nearly full of sand not ten paces from where they stood.

  Almost, but not quite. There was just enough space between the sand and the ceiling for them to squeeze through, and there would be a hole to the surface on top of that big pile. It must have been totally blocked, because he could not see it, but it had to be there. Maybe they could dig their way out.

  He tugged on Ahmed’s sleeve again and they ran to the heap of sand and clambered up.

  Once they got to the top, Faisal groaned with disappointment. The hole to the surface was blocked with a fallen palm tree.

  Just then, the Senussi came around the corner.

  “There they are!” one shouted, pointing.

  The boys scrambled down the far side of the sand pile before another poison dart came their way.

  Faisal was about to switch the torch back on when he noticed a faint glimmer up ahead.

  “Look!” he said.

  “Let’s go, little brother. It’s our only chance.”

  They splashed through the water, stumbling over bits of stone and sunken debris, and made it to the next heap of sand just as the Senussi torch poked over the top of the last pile and shone right on them.

  At least it lit their way. Faisal could now make out the hole in the ceiling. It was blocked with palm fronds and dried sticks from bushes, the gnarled wood poking down from the surface like old fingers. They clambered up the pile of sand, cursing as it gave way beneath them and slowed their progress, and got to the top.

  Faisal grabbed some sticks and hauled them down, bringing a cascade of sand down onto the two of them. Ahmed grabbed another armful and yanked it out of place. Suddenly harsh sunlight glared through the hole.

  A whoosh of air and a soft thunk made Ahmed cry out.

  “Are you hit?” Faisal said, going cold.

  Ahmed held up one of the sticks he had just removed from the hole. A dart was stuck in it. The older boy tossed it aside with a shudder and hauled himself out of the hole. The upper part of his body appeared a moment later and he grabbed Faisal’s arm.

  Just as Ahmed lifted him up, Faisal screamed as something tugged on his djellaba.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Augustus surveyed the two bedraggled, terrified, exhausted boys and felt a strange emotion. It took some time for him to identify it as guilt.

  He hadn’t felt guilt much since the war. That emotion had been burnt out of him with all the killing. He hadn’t felt much fear either, death having precious little to take from him.

  But these two—a child and a half-child—were afraid, and that made guilt rise up in him like a cold fist.

  He may not have anything to lose, but they had everything to lose. They were at the start of their lives and he had put them in danger, not once but several times.

  And he knew he would have to do it again.

  They had appeared more than three hours after they had entered the tunnel, staggering up to Jocelyn’s house, tired and filthy, their faces drawn and eyes wide from what they had experienced. They had babbled out an incoherent tale of being chased through the aqueduct, with Faisal adding some djinn laughing at them as poison darts flew through the air.

  The part about the poison darts was true at least. As they had crawled out of the access hole, the man with the blowgun had taken a final shot at Faisal and the
dart caught in the hem of the boy’s djellaba. He was lucky he hadn’t pricked himself before he noticed it was there. Faisal and Ahmed had then fled through the palm groves, losing their pursuers and making their way back. As they arrived, Faisal had presented Augustus and Moustafa with the dart.

  They sat the boys down and took the liberty of using Jocelyn’s kitchen to brew them some tea. The woman was still confined to barracks on base, Major Belgrave not wishing to risk the life of one of the King’s female subjects in the current situation.

  Their own absence would be missed soon enough as well. Claud had had to return to the mountaintop. Hopefully he had left an excuse on their behalf with the soldiers at the nearby road.

  Once the boys had drunk some tea, eaten a large heap of dates, and calmed down enough to form coherent sentences, he got a more sensible story out of them.

  It was just as he had suspected. The Senussi were exploring the old aqueducts to find a way to surprise the troops. The base stood right in the middle of Bahariya Oasis. There was a high probability that an aqueduct passed close to it, or even beneath it.

  A good thing Ahmed had alerted them to that possibility. These little mites came in handy sometimes.

  That still didn’t explain Dr. Harrell’s involvement, or the involvement of the secret group in the Geographical Association.

  “So tell me more about this tunnel.”

  “It kept going straight,” Faisal said. “We think it goes to the temple but we had to take another way to escape from the Senussi. We came out near our old camp and the hot spring.”

  “Then the Senussi could be on us at any moment,” Moustafa said, grabbing a gun and going to the window.

  “There’s a patrol between that place and this house,” Ahmed said.

  Moustafa shrugged. “So? You got around them.”

  Augustus scratched his chin. Yes, the soldiers stuck to the town and the main paths. They didn’t have the numbers to patrol the palm groves, and venturing into them would put them at greater risk of ambush.

  “We saw some old picture writing,” Faisal said. “Egyptians built the tunnel.”

  “Are you reading hieroglyphs now?” Augustus said, amused.

  “What are hieroglyphs?”

  Ahmed nudged him. “Ancient Egyptian writing, dummy.”

  “Oh right,” Faisal said, nodding. “Those. Yes, we found that.”

  Augustus had his doubts. “Are you sure? What did it look like? A bunch of triangles all clumped together and carved in rows?”

  “No, picture writing like I said.”

  So not Persian, then. And the boy would have recognized Latin letters even if he couldn’t read them.

  So that meant that particular aqueduct really was Egyptian.

  And that meant that it no doubt connected the temple to the oasis interior.

  “You boys have done well.”

  Faisal grinned from ear to ear. Ahmed only nodded and sipped his tea.

  “We need to explore that tunnel further,” Augustus told them.

  Faisal’s grin vanished.

  “Don’t worry, we’re coming with you this time.”

  “That makes me worry more, Englishman. Danger follows you.”

  Again that feeling of guilt. The boy had already suffered a sandstorm, a gunfight, nearly getting stung by a scorpion, and being chased by the Senussi.

  Maybe I should leave him behind. I could have Claud drive him to the base and leave him there.

  The moment after he thought about it, he realized he wouldn’t do it. Faisal was too useful.

  This isn’t your choice, he reminded himself. It’s his.

  “Yes, we will be going into more danger,” he said. “Perhaps it would be better if you stayed at the military base?”

  Faisal looked at him like he had just been insulted.

  “Who will take care of you?” the boy asked.

  Augustus blinked. He glanced at Ahmed, who nodded.

  “I’m coming too,” the older boy said.

  Augustus sighed. Their consent didn’t make him feel much better about what he was leading them into.

  “Very well, then. We will wait until sundown and then get started.”

  “But what do we do?” Faisal asked.

  “We’ll catch them by surprise. First, we go scout the—”

  The sound of someone clearing his throat in the open doorway made them all turn.

  Major Belgrave stood there, backed by a squad of men. He did not look happy.

  “Sir Augustus, I’m afraid you and your … employees will have to come with us.”

  Augustus tried to put on an innocent face, acutely aware that it was about as convincing as the innocent faces Faisal tried to put on after being caught pinching something.

  “What’s the matter, major?” he asked in a pleasant voice.

  All he got was a frown in return.

  “The matter is that you’ve ignored my instructions and given my soldiers the slip twice now. You’ve lied about where you were and what you’ve been doing. Now you’re coming with us so we can find out what exactly you’ve been up to. And once Captain Williams comes down I’ll be having some strong words with him.”

  Oh dear. Augustus hoped he hadn’t gotten the chap into any serious trouble.

  So once again Augustus and his companions had to load their things into the back of a truck under the escort of several soldiers. This time, however, they suffered the indignity of being disarmed. The men, under Major Belgrave’s increasingly disapproving eye, rummaged through the baggage, pulling out one weapon after another.

  Moustafa’s giant Soudanese sword got the most comment until they found Augustus’ flash grenades. The German submachine gun was much admired, as well as the sheer size of the rest of the collection—rifles and pistols, and knives of all varieties. Augustus thought for a minute that at least his sword cane would be spared scrutiny until Major Belgrave, surveying the arsenal laid out on a tarp next to one of the trucks, took Augustus’ cane from his hands, fiddled with it a bit, and found how to twist it open and withdraw the blade.

  “I must say, Sir Augustus,” the major muttered, shaking his head, “I can’t decide if you’re a mercenary or madman.”

  “Isn’t a private citizen allowed to defend himself?”

  “Not to this extent while in a warzone and lying to an officer in the King’s service. Let’s go.”

  They headed out, Augustus and rest sitting glumly in the back of one of the trucks. The soldiers hemmed them in to keep them from jumping out the back.

  Ahmed looked the most downcast of them all.

  “I hope Claud doesn’t get in trouble. They might make him let me go,” was all he said.

  “Don’t worry,” Faisal whispered to him. “If that happens I’ll my make Englishman hire you.”

  Good Lord, two of them? That was a terrifying prospect.

  But he had more immediate problems. How could he solve this case now that he was essentially under arrest?

  The column passed through the camp’s front gate. Augustus noticed the number of sentries had doubled. The trucks parked, and the two boys were instructed to go to a barracks room. A pair of soldiers went with them.

  “Your servants will be kept under guard. We’ve been a bit too lax with Ahmed, letting him have the run of the base,” Major Belgrave said. He turned to Moustafa. “You are of greater interest. I’ll need to speak with you, along with your employer.”

  They were marched under heavy guard through the center of the camp to Major Belgrave’s office. As they passed a small private officer’s hut, Jocelyn stepped out and watched them with concern. Augustus felt too embarrassed to greet her with more than an abashed nod.

  Soon they found themselves seated in front of the major’s desk, the major studying them from across a heap of paperwork, four soldiers arrayed behind them.

  “Now how about the two of you tell me what you’re really doing here.”

  Augustus leaned forward a little and asked in a l
ow voice. “Would it be possible to speak without the enlisted men present?”

  “No.”

  Augustus lowered his voice further. “It’s just that we have reason to believe that one of them might be passing information to—”

  “To the Senussi? I arrested the culprit last night.”

  Augustus felt a bit disappointed. He had been looking forward to investigating the leak in the base’s security and revealing the guilty part to the major with some dramatic flourish.

  “Well,” Augustus cleared his throat. “That’s good news.”

  “How did you know there was a breach in our security? And what are you doing here?”

  Augustus decided to counter these two questions with one of his own. “Why was the man giving information to the Senussi?”

  “How about you answer my questions first.”

  “Oh, um,” he glanced at Moustafa, who provided no succor. “Well, it’s rather odd really. We came to investigate the antiquities of the area and—”

  Major Belgrave’s frown deepened. “If you’re an Egyptologist, I’m the governor General of India.”

  Moustafa looked scandalized. “Mr. Wall is the most respected antiquities dealer in Cairo!”

  The major barely glanced at him. “That may be so, but that doesn’t explain why you suddenly show up in a remote oasis at the very moment the Senussi are planning an attack.”

  Augustus paused. The game was up. If he answered the major’s questions, he would be confined to barracks for the rest of the action.

  But if he didn’t, he’d still be confined to barracks, and the base would be left vulnerable.

  The skin around his mask was itching terribly again. The ride here had been a hot one, making his sensitive skin sweat under the muffling heat of the metal mask. The major hadn’t even offered them a drink of water.

  What to do? He yearned to solve all this himself, but he didn’t see a way to do that now. The Senussi could attack at any moment, perhaps this very evening. He needed to act now.

  “Major, you and your men are in more danger than you realize.”

  “And how is that?”

  Augustus paused again, torn between impulse and honesty. He looked around the room—at the maps, the uniforms, at the young men guarding them, barely out of their teens, and let out a sigh.