by Edward Marin
The taller of the two men got to within a couple of feet of him and grabbed him by the elbow.
“This way, Mr. Tonemcadu,” he said as he tried to guide him toward a red truck.
Tonemcadu freed his arm. “What is this? I’m not going anywhere with--”
“I’m afraid that’s not up to you,” the shorter man said.
Tonemcadu started to walk away, but the first man grabbed him from behind. Tonemcadu spun and shoved him, then drew his arm back to swing a punch. It never connected. He felt a blow, then excruciating pain at the back of his head, then nothing.
CHAPTER 28
A ray of sunlight intruding through a tiny opening by the ceiling illuminated the otherwise dim room. Old dusty furniture positioned in no apparent order filled most of the space.
In the few minutes since he’d regained consciousness, Tonemcadu had discovered that his head was bleeding. It felt as if it had been pounded for hours instead of the one solid blow he remembered receiving. He touched the wound and was relieved to find that, although it covered a large area, it wasn’t deep. He noticed a metal bracelet on his right ankle. He reached down to take it off, but it had no catch.
He tried to stand, but felt dizzy and sank back down. He couldn’t imagine why this was happening to him or who could be behind it. The only person he could think of who might consider him an enemy was Burt Rydell. But he couldn’t envision his going as far as having him knocked out and kidnapped. The most likely explanation was that he was the victim of a case of mistaken identity.
He heard a noise, and the two men who had attacked him came in. The taller one, who was middle-aged with a large frame, turned on the light and planted himself to the right of the door, about ten feet from the couch. The second man placed himself somewhere between his cohort and Tonemcadu. He was close to a foot shorter, about the same age, wore glasses, and held his hand in his coat pocket as if he were holding a gun.
The first man moved closer to Tonemcadu.
“Mr. Tonemcadu, I’m Mitchell Holcomb and this is Vince Robertson of Holcomb and Robertson Investigations,” he said in a high, nasal voice. “I’m sorry for the way we’ve treated you.”
The shorter man had a facial twitch.
“That’s right. We at Robertson and Holcomb Investigations don‘t like to use such methods, but you refused to come with us, so we had no choice.”
Tonemcadu found their apology remarkable under the circumstances, and Robertson’s correction of the firm’s name downright comical. But their egos and rivalry represented a weakness he might be able to exploit.
“What do you want?” he said, looking from one man to the other.
Robertson nodded to his partner that he was going to answer.
“We’re private investigators. We were hired by two people you know to locate you and take you back to Chicago. I believe you remember Dan Stoval and Linda Sims?”
Holcomb, who was shifting his considerable body weight from leg to leg, reached under his jacket and pulled out the small sculpture made of a gold handle attached to an elliptical ivory top that Tonemcadu had left for Dan and Linda as a departure present.
“They told us to show you this to prove that we work for them,” he said.
“Why do they want me to return to Chicago?” Tonemcadu said.
“When they found out you’d left their home, they knew you had no money and became concerned about how you’d survive. They said you were like a member of the family, so they hired us to locate you and take you back.”
“Are you saying that they want to force me to accept their help? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Convince you, not force you Mr. Tonemcadu,” Robertson said. “We had to use some creativity to get you off the ship, because during its previous stops you always stayed on board. Then, when we tried to bring you with us, you were...uncooperative, so we brought you here. Unfortunately, we had to use methods we usually try to avoid. But we have to do our job. I hope you understand.”
“You could have just told Dan and Linda I was doing fine, if that was really their concern.”
“Like I said, they want to make sure you return,” Robertson said.
Although Tonemcadu could believe that Dan and Linda might be concerned about him, it seemed incredible that they’d send private investigators all this way to bring him back. His ability to determine whether people were lying to him had always served him well. Holcomb and Robertson were lying about something. In any event, he couldn’t leave Egypt when he was so close to completing his mission.
“I can’t go back to Chicago now,” he said.
Holcomb and Robertson looked at each other. Robertson nodded. Then Holcomb said, “You need to know something else. The Stovals, Dan and Linda, are in serious trouble and need you back in Chicago.”
“What’s happened to them?” Tonemcadu said.
“They’re being accused of stealing a mummy. They believe you could help exonerate them.”
Tonemcadu thought about how his disappearance must have been perceived by the museum administrators and decided that Holcomb must be telling the truth.
“I’ll be happy to help them,” he said. “But I can’t leave until I go to the Great Pyramid.”
The two men looked at each other. Robertson started to make his way toward the door, then stopped and turned toward Tonemcadu.
“Actually, you don’t have a choice about that,” he said coldly. “We were hired to bring you back--end of story. We’ve tried to reason with you, but we can also be more forceful if necessary.”
Holcomb followed his partner.
“We’ll give you some time to think about our offer to go voluntarily to Chicago. You let us know what you’ve decided to do when we come back in a couple of hours. But, remember, you will return to Chicago.” With that they both left the room.
As soon as they locked the door behind them, Tonemcadu heard Holcomb’s high nasal voice whispering something to Robertson, who responded in an angry tone. He could only make out a few words, but he gathered that Robertson wanted to tie him up. Apparently Holcomb won the argument, for their voices became fainter, and he assumed they were walking away.
Tonemcadu looked around the room. They’d said he had two hours to make his decision. The sun was beginning to sink, and it would be easier to escape unseen once it was dark. He thought hard and realized how he might do it.
Holcomb and Robertson had failed to take the small sculpture with them. The beautiful object must have seemed too delicate to serve anything but a decorative purpose. But Tonemcadu knew better. If broken, the edge of the ivory would be sharp, probing. He could use it on the door lock, which meant he’d need to destroy the precious object the pharaoh had awarded him in recognition for his undertaking his mission. When he left it as a gift for Dan and Linda, he’d known that, as dedicated archeologists, they would preserve it. But to break it now seemed almost criminal.
It was also his only chance to escape. Without further hesitation, he lifted the gold handle between his hands. Using his feet as leverage, he applied a powerful push on the elliptical ivory top, splitting the sculpture into two pieces.
The sun no longer illuminated the room with the intensity it had only an hour earlier. He could tell from the silence and the dryness in the atmosphere that he was miles from the sea. Nothing outside of those clues gave him any indication of where he was.
With a sharp edge of the broken sculpture in hand, he walked over to the door. He inserted it into the lock and started to move it around. Other than a squeaky sound, nothing happened. So the fastening mechanism was more sophisticated that he’d imagined. He’d have to apply more pressure, at the risk of breaking off the tip. He tried again, this time inserting the edge as far in as possible and pushing. The door cracked, but didn’t open. He pulled out the sculpture. It’s shape was obviously too wide for the job. He placed the other half of the broken sculpture into the lock and moved it. This time he heard a click, and he pushed the door open.
He stepped into a corridor and walked down the hall to a window, through which he could see an expanse of desert traversed by an empty dirt road on which a lone red Toyota pick-up truck was parked. Robertson was behind the wheel, his eyes on the building. Holcomb was stretched out, apparently dozing, in the cargo area in the back.
He obviously couldn’t escape without being seen. Since they had a vehicle and more than likely guns at their disposal, they’d recapture him, and this time they’d tie him up. For now, he’d wait for an opportunity. And when the time came, he’d improvise.
An hour passed; an hour full of hopes and anxiety during which he studied every shift, move, or stretch by Robertson to guess what he was going to do next and determine how it might work to his advantage. But Robertson’s focus on the building never wavered.
Then, all of a sudden, Robertson got out of the car, walked to the back of the truck, and shook Holcomb awake. Tonemcadu assumed that the two hours were up and that they’d both head for the building. Instead, the two men switched places, with Holcomb relieving his partner of guard duty while Robertson went to stretch out in the cargo area.
Holcomb turned out not to be as vigilant as Robertson. He started browsing through a magazine, only taking occasional glances toward the building. And as nightfall came, he, too, nodded off.
CHAPTER 29
Tonemcadu started running as fast as he could. It was too dark for him to see much of where he was going, but it didn’t matter so long as with every stride the distance between him and the building where he’d been held increased. His only point of reference was the dirt road, which after a while turned into desert and reawakened old memories of playing in the sand as a child. He didn’t know how long he ran, but, when he stopped, he was so tired that he couldn’t go any farther.
He sat down and looked around. His vision had adjusted to the darkness enough that he could tell he was on top of a dune, and for miles there was nothing but sand. Only the stars in the clear sky broke the monotony and gave him hope that he’d be able to figure out how far he was from his destination.
He scrutinized the sky until he found the constellations he needed to see, first the Pegasus, then the Triangulum, and finally the Eridanus. He drew a sketch on the sand and calculated that he was about a three-day walk from the Great Pyramid. If things went his way, he could make it in two, assuming he could rapidly reach the more populated delta region, where the travel conditions would surely be better. If things didn’t go his way and he encountered any major delay, he knew that he risked dehydration and the cruelest of deaths in the western desert which, even after 3,300 years, still felt like the driest place on earth.
In the meantime, remaining physically strong outweighed the drawback of losing precious time, so he decided to get some sleep. He made his way to an area between a sand bank and a ridge, where he found just enough space to lie down and stretch out.
A few hours later, he woke up thirsty but reinvigorated and started heading south.
Oddly, the walk resulted in his mind seeming to work at a faster pace than earlier, when he’d been making a conscious effort to think about what to do next. Now, plans came to him effortlessly.
It was important to keep moving as fast as possible. Holcomb and Robertson would be able to use their truck to cover a huge area while trying to find him. As soon as he came to a populated area, he’d hire transportation and buy food and water. If he had to travel by foot once he reached the delta region, he’d avoid roads. Whenever he needed to rest, he’d choose the most isolated spots he could find. Above all, he’d travel at night and rest during the day. That way, he’d have the stars for navigation, the darkness to make it harder for his pursuers to see him, and the more comfortable evening temperatures for his journey.
After several hours of brisk walking, the topography became quite hilly and dawn started to break. At the bottom of a long sand corridor he noticed what looked from the distance like a small mud house standing alone in the desert. It was the first sign of human presence he’d seen since his escape. As he got nearer, he saw three more houses of a similar construction appear from behind a dune, then some luxurious vegetation surrounding a small lake.
He quickened his pace down the hill, anticipating the refreshing taste of the water. When he reached the lake, he heard some noise behind him, turned around, and saw several children playing by the lake’s shore. He thought of revealing his presence by saying something or by clearing his throat, but was so thirsty that he ignored them and bent his head to drink. When he finally looked up, the children were watching him and whispering to each other. Then they ran away.
As he was walking back up the hill, the kids returned along with five men. He noticed that they were coming in his direction, so he stopped to wait for them. A stern-looking man in loose-fitting clothes said something to him in a language he didn’t understand, then paused as if expecting an answer. Tonemcadu pointed to the lake, then to the desert, signifying that he had just come to drink some water and would now be on his way. The man responded by raising his open palms in front of Tonemcadu, indicating in an unmistakable way that he shouldn’t leave.
Tonemcadu wondered if these people were in cahoots with Holcomb and Robertson. After all, it made sense that, once they discovered his escape, they’d alert any contacts they might have in the western desert.
As he was trying to decide the best way to get away from these men, another man took a step forward and started to move his mouth without making any sound, just lifting and lowering his hand in front of his face. He continued to make the same odd gesture until Tonemcadu understood that they were inviting him to eat.
He was concerned by this turn of events. The oasis was an obvious place for Holcomb and Robertson to look for him, and any time spent there was time he could be putting distance between himself and them. On the other hand, he was hungry, and it would be wise to eat before starting another long walk.
He smiled and followed the men through several dirt roads to the biggest house of the small oasis. They entered a large room where about twenty people were sitting on pillows around a huge short-legged table laden with appetizing dishes. The man who’d first extended the offer to join them said a few words to the group, and one by one the men sitting around the table stood to shake his hand while one of the women prepared another seat at the head of the table.
Throughout the meal, he smiled a lot and complimented the food, which was delicious. His hosts smiled back at him and nodded.
An hour later he got up and indicated that he had to leave by rubbing his stomach and taking a few steps toward the door. The man who had blocked his way earlier also got up and again placed himself in front of him, preventing him from moving forward. Tonemcadu took his hand, shook it, and waved goodbye to everyone.
A few children followed him to the outskirts of the oasis and stood at the top of a dune, waving to him. He started walking north, to give the impression that he was headed toward Alexandria, instead of southeast toward the Giza plateau. If Holcomb and Robertson came to inquire about him, the villagers wouldn’t be able to tell them which way he had really gone. He looked back several times to check if the children were still watching him. Once he was sure he was out of their sight, he turned around and started walking southeast again.
Two hours later he came across an east-west road. He realized the oasis hadn’t been as isolated as he’d imagined, and he was probably close to the delta. From now on, it would be easier to hide in populated areas, but there would also be more people to identify him.
He decided to follow the road east from about a hundred feet inward, which would make it harder for motorists to see him. There were few vehicles, but he ducked every time he heard one coming. About five miles down the road he came across an intersection with a much busier thoroughfare, where he saw a sign putting Cairo at 80 kilometers away. Knowing the pyramids were adjacent to the Cairo suburbs, he followed the busy road for many hours until he stopped to get some rest at a two
-story white building with a sign announcing in large western characters: Pyramid Motel.
A bald man with a big stomach was standing behind the front desk. After saying something Tonemcadu couldn’t understand, the man greeted him in broken English, took some money from him, and gave him the key to a room on the second floor where he went to get some sleep.
A few hours later two men entered the Pyramid Motel and walked up to the front desk. The shorter man placed a bill on the desk and asked the clerk for the key to Tonemcadu’s room. When the clerk objected, the tall man placed another bill on the desk.
Moments later, Tonemcadu turned in his bed as if something had disturbed his sleep. He felt cold steel on his cheek. He opened his eyes just as Robertson pulled a gun back a few inches from his face.
“Please sit up, Mr. Tonemcadu,” he said.
Tonemcadu did as he was told. “How did you find me?”
“That bracelet on your ankle? It’s got a GPS system. We’ve known where you were ever since you left. We’d have had this little reunion sooner if the pick-up truck hadn’t broken down.”
CHAPTER 30
Somewhere in the back of his mind, Tonemcadu had always felt that if he wanted something to happen bad enough, he could eventually will it to happen. He felt that was in part why he’d been able to overcome the adversity he’d encountered thus far while trying to complete his mission. Even when all seemed lost, he’d maintained some degree of hope that things would work out in the end. But this time was different. Now that Holcomb and Robertson had taken him to a building in what appeared to be an even more isolated place in the desert, had tied him up, and were watching him like hawks, his destiny seemed finally out of his hands.
He began to contemplate the consequences of his probable failure, until the thought became too terrible to consider, the guilt too much to bear. He wished Holcomb and Robertson knew what he knew, that they could understand how critical the situation was and how important it was to let him go. At that moment he decided he would have to do the unthinkable. He would tell them the truth and hope they’d believe him. He would explain why it was so important for him to complete his mission. He could no longer concern himself with the repeated warnings from the pharaoh’s scientists about not putting his mission at risk by revealing it to anyone. At this point it was already so endangered that he had nothing to lose.