Abdul nodded. “I had hoped to be here earlier; unfortunately, the new political regime means that even a private plane has to wait.”
“You missed nothing, sir. Francisco and Jazz have not yet arrived. We expect them within the next couple of hours. Every hotel is covered.”
Abdul glanced upwards. The sky was changing into its evening colours. “They won’t do anything in the darkness. Stand most of the men down. Tomorrow at sunrise I want men throughout the Amarna site. They will blend in with the other volunteers; Francisco will have no idea we are here.”
Abdul strode across to the tent. The familiar hum of computers was clearly audible.
“I had expected them to have arrived by now?” Abdul’s frustration spilled into his question as he opened the tent flap.
Frank hesitated. His computer surveillance indicated that they were headed in the right direction, but their erratic movements suggested they had changed their mode of transport. He decided against disclosing his fears to Abdul. The most important thing was that they got here, not how they arrived.
“On their way. We have men in both hotels waiting their arrival, sir.”
“Perfect, you are showing excellent promise.”
“Thank you, sir.” Abdul’s confidence prompted Frank to push his luck. “We have sightings of other men here in the camp.”
Abdul raised his bushy eyebrows. “Do we indeed.”
“Saudis – they stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Keep tabs on them.” Abdul pursed his lips, surprised that Alistair’s men were already on site.
“That won’t be too difficult, sir.”
Abdul nodded. He preferred stupid men; intelligent men had issues with taking orders.
“Beware, Frank; arrogance has a habit of blinding even the best of men.”
Frank swallowed, wondering if he should tell Abdul about Francisco’s apparent off-road activities. “Don’t worry, sir, you have my absolute vigilance.”
Abdul rubbed his hands together. “Good, then perhaps you can rustle me up some food and a drop of cognac. I would hate to catch a desert chill.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
In spite of the lack of wind, the felucca had made good progress, thanks to the expert sailing of their boatman. As it sped through the water, Francisco was deep in thought. Whoever was following them had guessed Amarna was their destination or they had a tracker on them. No one could have put anything on their rental car. If the tracking device was anywhere, it was on one of their smart machines. He had used his tablet to track the ancient star system. Jazz had used her mobile. He had left his in the hotel.
He gently nudged her awake. “Jazz,” he whispered in her ear.
She opened her eyes and stared straight into his. It was oddly disconcerting. She tried to pull herself away, but his grip around her shoulders remained firm.
“Sorry, I must have dropped off.”
“It’s okay, there is nothing to worry about. I need your mobile.”
“My mobile?”
“It’s bugged.”
She rubbed her eyes. “How could it be? I’m the only person who used it.”
He threw her a puzzled look. “Are you sure?”
“I’m not a total idiot, Francisco; my mobile is always in my pocket.” She felt his grip relax and pulled away from him.
“Cara could have entered your room when you were sleeping.”
“It was in the pocket of my nightdress. It sounds daft, but it was my security; everything was so alien and my mobile gave me confidence. Until you came into my life I was a social network addict. The phone is my last link to my previous life. I left my laptop at Cara’s.”
“Did you use it when you were there?”
“Only for emails and to check a couple of things, I have never been so quiet.”
“You emailed Jed a few hours ago.”
“Jed is perfectly safe.” She raised her eyebrows. “I guess I should be grateful that you don’t suspect him.”
“Very funny – but don’t be too grateful; it’s Akhoum and Cara we need to worry about. My guess is they have joined forces.”
Jazz tried to reconcile the woman she had met with the image Francisco painted. She remembered the constant bickering between Cara and Hassid. She was more like an emotional firework than cold and calculated.
“Hass reckoned there were problems. He did not go into it but he said enough. She hated his work.”
“Not every couple like their partner’s work. Isn’t it the ultimate in conceit to believe that Cara would marry someone simply to spy on you?”
“It’s about the secret, not me. We can’t take a chance” He held out his hand. “Give me your phone. They are tracking us through it.”
“Or they may not be following us at all.”
“You saw the man at the hotel.”
She remembered her fear when she spotted Akhoum. “What about you? Cara called you. The trace is on your phone.”
“I left it at the hotel with the other two papyri. I took photographs and emailed them to a safe site. I can activate it if we need to. I also paid for the room for a week. No one will go in there except the maid. She won’t risk her job for a smart phone and a few old papers.”
Reluctantly, Jazz fished it out of her pocket and handed it to him.
He ripped the back cover off, then pulled out the pill. “There are no visible signs of a bug. Cara could have done it through your emails. We can’t take any chances.” He held his arm out over the felucca and dropped it into the water.
“Why did you do that, mister?” The boatman wiped his nose with his sleeve.
“It was evil.”
“Evil comes from the heart of men, not machines.” The man rubbed his nose on his sleeve again, then spat into the water.
“True, but sadly man-made machines are hostages to evil.”
The old man thought for a moment before nodding. Jazz hated not understanding, but dared not interrupt.
“You be a good man then, sir, so why you go to Amarna in the dark? There is nothing there but mud bricks and the ruined dreams of our greatest queen.”
“You know about Nefertiti?”
“We are all tour guides here. During the Second World War the Germans took what treasures were left. The statue of her head is in a Berlin Museum. It belongs to the people of Egypt, not Germany.”
“It will be returned to its rightful owners once Nefertiti’s legacy is restored.”
Francisco paused; time was running out. He needed a break. The alignment of the obelisk and the rising sun throughout the centuries was too wide a search area.
“You must know a lot about this river.”
“Like I know myself; I was born on it and will die on it.”
“And Amarna?”
“I know enough. Its treasury once housed more gold than the rest of the known world. The King and Queen were the most intelligent rulers Egypt had. The King brought elephants and lions from down south to create the first zoo. In those days we were a great people; now we scratch for insects in the dirt.”
“Nefertiti’s legacy could change that.”
He shook his head. “Fool’s gold, there are no treasures; and even if there were, I would not hand them over to foreigners.”
“I was born in Cairo; the treasure I seek is information, not gold.”
The old man looked at Francisco for a long time. “The early Christians took most of what was left of the past when they lived here. They were ignorant savages.”
“Christians were here?” Francisco was surprised. His father had never mentioned it.
“They came streaming out of Jerusalem after the so-called “Fall of the Second Temple”. Some of them tried to make houses with the bricks from the ruined temples, others made their home at the lion hole.”
“The lion hole?”
“Lions roamed this land well before Akhenaton brought them here from Africa. They drank the water at a little inlet. It was the easiest place to take water
without getting their feet wet. The lazy Christians had the same idea. They used palm leaves to make huts. Every year the Nile washed them away.”
“Was this lion hole famous?”
“Legendary: lions were revered here. The ignorant Christians turned it into a dump.”
“Can you take us to the lions” hole?”
“We pass it on our way to the Amarna docking site. You won’t find anything of Nefertiti there.”
“I will pay you well. You will be remembered as the man who helped to restore Nefertiti’s legacy.”
The man looked at him for a moment, then grinned. “I am happy to serve the Queen of Egypt. We should be there within the hour.” He spat into the water again, and then tugged at the sail.
Chapter Fifty
Fifteen minutes earlier
The rows of houses with peeling paint reminded Cara of dried- up orange skins. Francisco’s 4x4, protruding from the timeless landscape forced Cara into a double take. She re-checked the navigation screen. “According to this machine they’re heading towards Amarna. What are they travelling on, a magic carpet?”
“Don’t joke, Cara.”
“I wasn’t. They’ve changed cars.”
“Not in this town: no one owns one. They have taken the river.” Akhoum banged the steering wheel. “I should have thought of it earlier.” He looked around. “Let’s go in there; it’s the only eating place in town. I’ll soon find out what happened.”
He parked the car and jumped out. Cara hurried after him as he ran towards the café. Behind the counter, a young man had his back to them, watching TV.
“We are looking for our friends. We were supposed to meet them here.” Akhoum thumped the bar.
The youth turned. “We don’t get many foreigners in these parts.” He returned his attention to the screen.
“Not much money either.” Akhoum had the boy’s full attention, as he placed an Egyptian note on the bar and then put another three beside it. Ordinarily, Akhoum would have broken the boy’s neck; instead, he put four more notes on top of the others, aware that Cara was watching. The youth gathered them up in his nicotine-stained fingers.
“They took the felucca.”
“Where can I get another boat?” Akhoum snapped back at him.
“There isn’t one. Since the crisis, everyone fishes from the banks. They sold their boats for money. The government doesn’t care about the people. You will have to wait until he comes back.” He shoved the money into his trouser pocket underneath his robe.
Akhoum turned, and moved towards Cara. As he ushered her towards the window, spasms of unsatiated emotion erupted inside her.
He whispered into her ear, sending yet more shock waves through her body.
“If Amarna was his destination he would have continued on the road. The river is slower. He is going somewhere else.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Call it instinct. He has stolen a march on everyone. If we follow the road we will never find him. It’s too far from the Nile.”
“We still have the tracker. Look, it’s moving.” She pointed to the screen.
“How long do you think it will take him to ditch it?”
Cara rolled her eyes. “Damn, I was wrong to stay so far behind him.”
“It is a straight road to Amarna. We did not expect him to deviate, and nor will Abdul. At least we have that advantage.”
“Only for the moment. Like you said, once he ditches the tracker we are doomed.”
“If we take camels to track the river bank, we can catch them. With so little wind, the felucca could be becalmed. “
“I can’t ride a horse, let alone a camel.”
“We only need one camel. You can hang on to me. Someone will rent us one for a price.”
Not waiting for her to answer, he strode across to the bartender.
“I need a camel.”
The boy pulled a face. “A camel is a man’s left hand. Not many men will cut their hand off.”
Akhoum nodded “I will pay five hundred American dollars to anyone prepared to lend me their camel.”
“That is more than a bad camel is worth.”
“Then it would be a foolish man who refused me.”
Akhoum took out five hundred dollars from his wallet and counted slowly, even though he hated to waste time.
The boy stared at the alien currency, not quite convinced.
Akhoum unfastened his watch. “The money is good. The dollar is much stronger than the Egyptian pound because of the troubles. I will leave my father’s watch as proof of my good intentions.”
He laid the market watch on the counter, then pulled the youth by the scruff of the neck towards him. “Do not be fooled by my kindness. I would hate to get angry,” Akhoum hissed at him.
“Take my father’s camel. She is a good beast, although she has an evil tongue; but she knows the paths of the desert and the river bank. I will have her saddled and ready to go.”
He scurried out of the room, anxious to put as much distance as he could between Akhoum and himself.
“Do you really think the camel will catch them?” Cara was trying to quash her fear.
“It depends on the wind, and the camel. They may know where the evidence is but they have to retrieve it. We have a chance.”
Akhoum was thinking about Abdul. He had miscalculated, but he was still tracking them. There were two 4X4’s in the car park. No matter how vehemently the bartender lied about their being here, the cars would give them away.
“We have to get rid of the jeeps.”
“What do you suggest? We can hardly dump them in the Nile.”
“The guy will store them for us. There must be an old barn. We can’t leave before we know they are hidden.”
“What if they put the same pressure on him as you did? He will squeal at the drop of a hat.”
“He’ll understand what loyalty means. Give me a few minutes with him alone then we will move the cars. I’ll hotwire Francisco’s rental; it should be easy.”
Chapter Fifty-One
The moonlight dripped streams of silver across the Nile. The wooden boat, with its off-white sail, skimmed through them like a dragonfly. Jazz’s imagination was in overdrive. They were so close to uncovering the evidence, yet her doubts persisted. The Nile would have flooded the area on numerous occasions. The probability of recovering intact documents was almost zero. Their only chance was if the papyri were hidden well above ground, which would also have increased the chances of earlier discovery.
“Francisco.” The boatman’s voice broke into her worries. She looked up. He was pointing to the bend in the river as he mumbled something to him in Arabic.
“What did he say?” Jazz demanded.
“The lion hole is beyond that bend.” He peered at his charts. “The Christian encampments were probably caves in the river bank.”
Jazz nodded, her face suddenly downcast. “Anything hidden in them would be dry and safe and easy to find.”
“According to the charts, the early morning rising of Sirius could be seen from somewhere around here. Look, there are some caves over there.” He pointed to the rocky outcrop which had created a sizeable bend in the river.
She proffered a grin, trying to quell her growing pessimism. “We have no phones and I didn’t bring a torch; did you?”
“We can use the boatman’s palm oil and a rag, to make a torch, just like they used to in ancient times.”
“Hopefully, we won’t need shovels.”
“If we do, we can forget it. The Nile has burst its banks once a year for millennia. It will have destroyed whatever was there.”
Now that her fears had been articulated, she felt strangely elated. “The documents meant a lot to whoever wrote them. They would have buried them in a safe place, not on a flood plain. We should forget about the earth and search the caves.”
She gasped. Wispy palm trees, their fronds swaying in what little breeze there was, towered above the tiny cove.
It’s incredible,” she whispered, gazing at the landscape.
The boatman understood their feelings, not their language. “The ancients say the sacred rocks trapped the animals’ spirits inside them. A lion guards the right-hand side and an elephant the left.” He pointed to the cliff top.
Francisco translated. “I don’t see it myself… perhaps the elephant. I can make out two bumps, the head and the body; but I certainly don’t see the lion.”
Jazz shook her head. “Neither do I, but it’s a good sign if the ancients thought they were here.”
As they talked, the boatman jumped ashore using the rope to drag the felucca closer in. Once he was satisfied, he secured the rope around a flat rock, then beckoned them to leave the felucca.
Francisco pointed towards the caves as they lowered themselves into the warm silky water.
“They are a good place to start.” He turned to the boatman and said something to him. He nodded his agreement then disappeared from view. A moment later he returned, waving a long stick. Hurriedly he pulled a rag from the boat and wrapped it around the stick, then doused it in oil.
His plastic disposable lighter was the only sign they were in the twenty-first century, as he handed the blazing torch to Francisco.
“What if he doesn’t wait for us?” Jazz hissed.
“This isn’t about us any more, it is about Nefertiti’s legacy. This man knows the stories of the past. He has a shared inheritance. His stories are not the Victorian theories of the Egyptologists; they are tribal histories handed from mouth to mouth across the campfires of time. Spirits of the past, kept alive by human belief. We are lucky to have him.”
“Perhaps the ghosts of the ancients are walking with us. They may be ready to give up their secrets.”
He shrugged. “It’s a nice thought. We will know soon enough. It is almost one. We have four hours before dawn. We must be out of here by then.”
The Ghost Reapers Page 23