Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu

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Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu Page 18

by Alexander Marmer


  “Good. So, how do we get away from here without them seeing us?”

  “As long as they think we are still inside this building, I don’t think they will move from their spot.”

  “Are you proposing we wait here until the end of the day?” she looked at Michael, sincerely hoping this was not his plan.

  “Well,” Michael had been pondering this thought. They needed to evade the enemy in an urban setting. “If we can’t get past them in the open, then we need to make a visual shield in order to evade them.”

  Anna looked at him, stunned. “What? How?”

  “Do you know the phone number for the fire department?”

  “One-one-two.”

  “Excellent!” Michael exclaimed.

  “Hey! I’ve got a better idea,” she said, an evil grin suddenly appearing on her beautiful face.

  “What are you doing?” he whispered as Anna crept back inside the DAI. Moments later he jumped as a thundering alarm blasted from the inside the building. He had his answer. He watched from his hiding place as Seth’s head moved back and forth, looking around. Within moments DAI employees were swarming through the front door, scurrying through the columned walkway and flooding the adjoining streets. Sure enough, Berlin’s fire trucks and ambulances were quickly approaching the building with their distinctive, two tone signal.

  A police car screeched to a stop in front of the building, the officers jumping out to direct the employees and street traffic. Michael could not help laughing as the police officers ordered Seth to move his Volvo out of the way. As the fire trucks and ambulances filled the street, the Volvo crawled away from the scene. Anna appeared at his side. “They made them leave!” he whispered with a grin. They eagerly joined the crowd and started briskly walking down the street in the opposite direction. Merging with the crowd, they walked along the street while trying to inconspicuously look around from time to time. There was no sign of the black Volvo.

  The clouds gathered again in the grey sky, and soon the first drops of rain started sprinkling. Umbrellas started popping up, and in that sea of umbrellas, Michael and Anna felt as if they were virtually invisible.

  Or so they thought.

  The street suddenly ended, so they turned left onto Königin-Luise-Straβe. As they passed by an Italian restaurant, Michael turned slightly and whispered to Anna, “We need to eat, but I think we should put more space between us and Seth.” Anna nodded in agreement. They kept walking as the rain formed puddles on the wide sidewalk. They came up to a larger road where Michael pulled on Anna to hurry and cross the street with him. As they turned onto Englealee, the crowd and cars seemed to grow in strength, much to his relief. He knew their anonymity in the crowds was the key to their safety.

  Their rain jacket hoods were up, so conversation, at least a private one, was simply out of the question. As they continued walking, Michael enjoyed the beautiful greenery found throughout Berlin. The trees glistened in the rain, making it hard to believe they were in the middle of a large city.

  Michael soon realized the cleverness of walking away from the scene, rather than driving. They could turn at any corner, duck into any store and simply hide in entryways. Still, he could not help but marvel at Seth’s prowess in finding them. As soon as it seemed like they were lost in the city like two proverbial needles in a haystack, he showed up. Obviously, Seth and the Medjay were not alone in this quest for the stele. There has to be a number of people involved in this, he mused.

  Soon the sidewalk narrowed and there seemed to be less people around them. Looking from side to side, Michael knew they needed to get to a more crowded area. At first he was tempted to escape into a small park nearby and walk amongst the trees and bushes. Then he realized the park was deserted in the rainstorm. There was no other choice but to keep walking.

  After about five more minutes of walking, they reached a larger street intersection. Cars were zipping back and forth as they approached. The cars suddenly came to a stop in front of them, and he made a quick decision. Looking back at Anna, “Let’s go over there,” he urged. “There seem to be more people.” She responded by stepping up her pace and crossing the intersection well ahead of him. He followed her as she strode purposefully.

  They fell in with another crowd of people. Soon the street split into two parts. Immediately, Michael felt safer as the traffic was now coming toward them. He knew they could duck into any store and make an escape if needed.

  “We need to find a place to eat.”

  He turned his head slightly and smiled at her, “The next place we see,” he promised. As it turned out, Santa Café was the next restaurant. As soon as he saw the word “café,” Michael started to head for the door. He took one last look behind him. Nothing unusual, he thought to himself.

  “Taxi!” Anna exclaimed suddenly, grabbing Michael’s arm and leaping inside a taxi that had pulled over. Astonished by the unprecedented turn of the events, Michael understood the meaning of it the moment Anna pointed out a certain black Volvo passing by on the other side of the street. As the taxi took off, Anna directed the driver to quickly turn down an alley and go in the opposite direction.

  As the taxi exited the alley, they slouched deep into their seats. They lifted their heads a little bit and observed some kids on their bicycles hurrying home to escape the raindrops, and two moms urgently trying to cover up their babies in their strollers. Everything seemed normal. Anna directed the cab driver to drive across the city so they could “see the sights.”

  A little while later they relaxed and started enjoying their ride. They were laughing about the whole ordeal when the cab driver suddenly addressed them. “The driver says that vehicle is tailgating us,” announced Anna. Michael turned his head discretely and saw the black Volvo behind them. The face of a Middle Eastern man with distinctive, bushy Afro hair was most definitely looking back at him from the front passenger’s seat.

  “I’m calling the police,” Anna said, looking through her purse for her cell phone.

  Michael placed his hand on the top of hers, “We have nothing on them.”

  “We can tell the police they are following us. Come on, it’s got to be something. We’re here in the civilized world, not in some tribal-land-wilderness-place,” she cried, losing her temper.

  “Anna,” Michael tried to keep his cool, “if you call the police, the only crime those two would be guilty of right now is following too close.”

  “Well, that’s good enough,” Anna approved. “This way, we can get away from them by the time the police finish issuing them a citation.”

  “Unfortunately, they will not get a citation.”

  “Ok, they’ll get arrested,” she said, her face brightening with enthusiasm. “Even better.”

  “They will not get arrested,” Michael said, smirking.

  Anna sighed deeply. “OK, so what do you suggest we do?”

  He thought for a moment, “Tell the driver you are in the middle of a divorce and that your ex-husband is pursuing you.”

  Anna frowned skeptically.

  “Trust me,” he said firmly. “It will work.”

  Anna shook her head but started speaking emphatically with the driver. The driver got a big grin on his face and started laughing. “He bought it,” she turned to Michael, trying hard to hold back her laughter as well.

  The driver called out, “Festhalten!”

  Anna quickly interpreted by calling out, “Hang on!” as the cab suddenly lurched forward and accelerated, weaving through several lanes. Even though the driver expertly maneuvered between occupied lanes and sped through lights at the last possible moment, the black Volvo always appeared in the rear window. It seemed to always catch up, lurking behind them like a black panther tracking its prey. The cab driver sped the cab down alleyways and even over sidewalks in a valiant attempt to shake the black Volvo.

  As the cab rapidly approach
ed a busy intersection, Michael and Anna glanced at each other with visible horror. Anna screamed, “He’s not going to stop!”

  “Brace yourself!” Michael bent his body forward, ducking his head low against the front seat. Anna followed his example. The roar of the engine filled their ears as the cab, now at a full speed, entered the intersection just as the light turned green. The driver laughed with bravado.

  “The driver says the Volvo is a good distance away,” said Anna, sitting up.

  Michael sighed deeply and groaned when he looked out the back window. “They can still see us! We aren’t out of danger yet!”

  It was dusk outside. The cab driver looked back and started speaking again. After a short dialogue with the driver, Anna looked over at Michael and grinned, “Hey, it doesn’t matter at this point.”

  “Why?” asked Michael.

  “The cab driver grew up in this neighborhood,” she explained. Racing down the street at over a hundred kilometers per hour, the taxi stopped short in a T-intersection marked by the stop sign. Tires squealing, he made a sharp right onto a local street. Turning off his headlights, the driver drove in the semi-darkness through the neighborhood, solely relying on his childhood memories. When they passed a school, he turned into the schoolyard.

  “This is his old school,” explained Anna as the driver raced through the schoolyard, turned left, drove between two buildings and then turned left again into a dark, inconspicuous nook next to the first building and a volleyball court. He parked his taxi, turned around and gave high five’s to Anna and Michael as they whooped and hollered. Besides a few spontaneous thunders and a bright lightning flash, everything was quiet in the vicinity.

  They decided to wait before moving out of their hiding spot. As it turned out, the driver’s ex-wife had pulled the same stunt when they were getting divorced. It seemed as if divorce was like an invisible power, giving him an unusual burst of adrenaline. There was no other explanation as to how a sleepy cab driver could almost instantaneously become a Formula One auto racer. With a grin, Michael privately thought it would be a good idea to offer that notion to the Formula One committee. But then, in reality, it probably would not work out: before each race, the drivers would have to go through a bitter divorce.

  They waited about thirty minutes and then asked their hero driver to drop them off at a good, local restaurant. They were sure to reward him generously for his brave and speedy driving.

  Chapter 25

  Franz’s Wirtshaus Bistro, Berlin, Germany

  Thursday, September 21

  7:45 p.m.

  “This place doesn’t look half bad,” said Anna as they walked inside Franz’s Wirtshaus Bistro, shaking off the raindrops. They made their way to the back where Michael made sure he was sitting facing the entrance, following a technique used by almost every law enforcement officer. The idea is to always face the entrance and not sit with your back to it, as if in anticipation of a dangerous subject walking through the door. Michael’s life motto, “prepare for the worst and hope for the best,” was always in motion. The German culture’s propensity for bright lighting meant that even their back booth was filled with cheerful light.

  “I’m starving!” Michael exclaimed, looking at his wristwatch. “Wow! It’s a quarter to eight.”

  The waitress brought their menus. While Anna spoke with her, Michael scanned his menu. I wish this was in English, he thought, suddenly feeling tired.

  Noticing Michael’s expression, Anna leaned forward, “Let me help you out. You might like … sauerbraten. It’s really good.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Roast beef. You can get a side order of potato dumplings or mashed potatoes to go with it.”

  “Sure, that’s sounds good. I’ll have the mashed potatoes,” Michael started to smile. “Is that what you’re getting?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll get a beer, too,” added Michael.

  As the waitress walked away, Anna leaned over conspiratorially, “So, what do you think? What are we gonna do?”

  Michael leaned forward as well, whispering, “Wait for our food.”

  Anna chuckled, “Oh, come on, you know what I meant.”

  “Well, two men are chasing us all over Berlin so they can get their hands on a package your father sent to you before he died. These men believe that whatever is in that package will lead them to the ancient stele your father supposedly stole from their tribe, right?”

  Anna nodded in agreement.

  “After what happened today, I think there are more people involved in this chase.”

  “You really believe there are more tribesmen here in Germany?”

  “Don’t be surprised if more people are involved. It depends on how powerful their organization is.”

  “So, almost anybody here could be a spy?”

  Michael leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Take, for example, our waitress.”

  “Oh, come on, Michael,” she started to laugh.

  Michael sat back with a wry smile.

  Anna reached into her purse. “Can I have the papyruses?” she asked, gently taking out a magnifying glass and placing it on the table.

  Michael gave her a puzzled look, but pulled out the bag and handed it across the table to her. “What’s this?” He looked pointedly at the magnifying glass.

  Anna was busy unrolling and opening the bag. “David let me borrow it,” she said softly, not looking at him.

  Michael looked at her firmly and cleared his throat.

  Anna glanced at him, pulling out the papyrus with the pencil rubbing and placing it on the table. “OK, ok,” she sighed. “I took it, but I’ll return it to David as soon as we figure everything out.” She picked up the magnifying glass and looked through it at the papyrus. “So, what do you think about this?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine,” said Michael, taking the magnifying glass from her hand. He studied the papyrus, adding, “I think your friend David was right, there is more to it. Here, take a look.”

  Taking back the magnifying glass, Anna agreed, “Yes, I can definitely see the bottom edge is unfinished.”

  “Well, there could be two possible explanations: either the person who made the rubbing was scared off and couldn’t finish it,” Michael said, thinking. “Or that’s the only remaining part of the artifact that survived until this day.”

  The waitress came bustling back to their table, plates in hand. Anna quickly moved everything safely to the side. After she had settled their plates, the waitress smiled at them, “Bon Appetit!”

  Anna smiled back at her, “Danke.” The waitress hurried away as they started eating. “So, you think this stele was an ancient artifact made during Pharaoh Khufu’s reign?” asked Anna, pausing to wipe her hands.

  “I’m just assuming that there’s a possibility that an ancient stele was found and that the papyrus is the proof of that.”

  “Do you think my father made the pencil rubbing?”

  “Quite possible.”

  Anna took another bite and chewed slowly, deep in thought. “Do you think he stole this ancient stele?” she looked up at Michael sadly.

  “No, I don’t think so,” said Michael, using his most reassuring tone of voice.

  The waitress appeared at their table again, dropping off a pair of beer bottles and tall glasses.

  Reaching for a bottle, Michael began pouring the creamy liquid into a glass. He took a sip and set his glass down. “Wow. This is not very cold.”

  “Yes, that’s how we drink it.” Anna replied patiently.

  “You’re right. Sorry. It’s fine. OK, you told me your father was helping restore the Great Pyramid?”

  “Yes. The last time he called me, he was working with a French company to install a new air ventilation system inside the Great Pyramid.”

  “OK, here is w
hat I think happened in Egypt. Your father found an ancient artifact by accident. Then he hid it somewhere, not knowing what to do with it. After all, he was an electrical engineer, not an archeologist with permission to excavate. Somehow the members of some ancient tribe found out about it and started blackmailing your father so he’d give it back. He didn’t want to reveal its location, so they poisoned him.”

  Anna listened carefully to Michael’s trail of thoughts.

  “But of all the places they could poison him, why would they do it inside the Great Pyramid?” she asked suddenly.

  “I don’t understand that either.”

  “Hopefully we’ll find out one day,” said Anna. “I know my father isn’t a thief.”

  “I assure you; I truly believe that too.”

  Anna nodded thoughtfully, picking up the other bottle and pouring herself a glass. “Okay, then why would he send the pencil rubbing to me?” Anna rolled her eyes. “We weren’t that close after he divorced my mom several years ago.” Abruptly, Anna’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t wanna forgive him.” She lowered her face, picked up her napkin and dried her tears. She blew her nose and took some slow, deep breaths, calming herself.

  “Anna, I don’t understand why he sent it to you,” Michael said sadly. “And quite frankly, I know your father never stopped loving you.”

  “Michael, I don’t know what to think anymore,” said Anna, looking up miserably. Michael reached inside his jacket, pulled out a small brown notebook and handed it to her. As she started slowly flipping through the pages, she looked up at Michael in surprise, “This is my father’s.”

  “He gave it to me.” He grimaced, “I’m sorry, I wish I had thought of it earlier.”

  “Me too.”

  “Do you see anything unusual in there?”

  “Well, I’m looking through it right now,” she said, carefully turning the pages over. “There are at least a hundred names in here,” she said, scanning the pages. “Are you suggesting we start calling every one of them? And what exactly are we going to ask?” She laughed, “Excuse me, did my father tell you about an ancient artifact he found in Egypt?”

 

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