by Stan Schatt
Seeing the two girls with huge bandages on their heads was difficult for both fathers. Matt bent down to kiss Olivia’s cheek and twisted his head to avoid the bandage. Tom leaned over and listened to Taylor’s labored breathing. Assured she was breathing, he turned his attention to Olivia.
The nurses assured both men they would call if there were any changes in the girls’ condition. Tom arranged for an armed security to sit inside the girls’ room when they came out of the Recovery Room.
When the two men reached the Thornton mansion, the staff was close to panic. Armed men had stormed the estate. They had demanded that the fence be turned off or they would fire on it. Once they were inside the mansion, the men had turned the rooms inside and out. They had questioned everyone including the landscaping staff. The officer in charge went ballistic when he found that the staff couldn’t open the vault. He had made some calls that confirmed just how impossible it would be to open the safe without its code. Amy had worried that the unit would take Mister Thornton into custody and force him to open the safe.
Mister Thornton confirmed that his assistant was hard at work calling in favors from various members of the Revolutionary Council. She also had alerted the U.S. embassy of the Army’s involvement. Because the U.S. Government gave $1.5 billion dollars in financial assistance to the Egyptian Government, most of which went for military weapons, it had a very close relationship with the Egyptian Army. The Ambassador made it clear that several senators who received generous donations from Mister Thornton would push hard to cut all financial assistance if he were mistreated. A high ranking general called Tom’s assistant to make it clear that the officer who initiated the visit was disciplined and that no further effort to harass Mister Thornton would take place.
“Money’s a wonderful thing,” Matt said.
The professor was far enough removed from the world of politics to shake his head in amazement when he heard how the Thornton millions had impacted two very different governments, one in its infancy and the other almost three hundred years old.
For three days the two men followed the same routine. They would spend their days at the hospital and then return to the mansion to sleep. The fourth day they received a call just as they were finishing breakfast.
“It’s the hospital. They want us to come as quickly as possible. It seems like the girls might be coming out of their comas.”
They made the trip to University Hospital in record time despite morning Cairo traffic. Tom had told his driver that he had to be at the hospital as quickly as possible. The man had cut corners even closer than usual. Finally, Matt had just closed his eyes. It was less nerve wracking than to worry every time the car swerved and just managed to avoid a car from side swiping it. They rushed to the girls’ room. The security man eyed them before relaxing when he recognized the two men.
Taylor’s eyes were fluttering. Tom bent over and saw her blink several times. Finally, one blue eye with a film of red looked back at him. Taylor’s mouth broke into a smile.
“Hi Dad,” she said.
Her voice sounded weak, but to Tom it was the best sound in the world.
Matt studied Olivia. Although she was deep in her coma, he noticed the monitor recording brain activity beeped and displayed brain waves. Her body shuddered as if she were cold. He reached down and pulled the blankets up over her shoulders. Her breathing was faster now.
Olivia slowly returned to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered until they finally opened. Her eyes showed that she recognized her father.
“Hi,” Olivia said.
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Matt took Olivia’s hand and covered it with his own.
“Hi. I’m so happy. I was so worried about you.”
“What happened?”
“You don’t remember?”
“I can’t remember much.”
“You breathed in some fungal spores. They spread in your lungs and then went to your brain. It was touch and go for a while.”
“What about Taylor?”
“She’s in the bed right next to you. She’s awake now too. It looks like both of you will be okay.”
Olivia’s hand reached out to touch her necklace. It had always given her comfort. She became aware that it was gone.
“Where’s my necklace?”
“I put it away for safe keeping. I didn’t want someone in the hospital to take it.”
“Oh.” When can I have it back?”
“Soon, dear. Don’t worry.”
The two girls were able to lay with their heads propped up by pillows and carry on a conversation with each other by the end of the day. Matt and Tom were both emotionally drained. Matt did have one question he had to ask Olivia.
“Do you remember where you left your travel vest with the camera and my notebook?”
Olivia closed her eyes and tried to think. Everything was a blur. It was just a confused mess. She tried again, but it was no use.
“Don’t be mad. I can’t remember.”
Matt swallowed his disappointment.
“It’s okay. Maybe it will come back to you after the swelling goes down some more.”
Tom asked Taylor the same question. Again he saw the same look of confusion before the girl admitted she couldn’t remember.
Chapter Fourteen
There have been so many instances of intuitive decisions saving lives or avoiding serious tactical errors in combat that the US army has developed teams of researchers who are attempting to learn why some people can detect trouble and others walk right into it.
—From Ryan Cole, “Intuition, Hunches, and Neuroscience,” Suite 101.com
That evening Matt couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned before giving up. Olivia’s failure to remember details didn’t bother him. He’d gladly settle for her full recovery. Just knowing his theory had been right was enough. He hadn’t spent his life in vain searching for something that wasn’t real.
Still, he felt anxious. Over the years, he learned to pay attention when he felt that way.
Once he woke with that same foreboding feeling, grabbed his rifle, and opened his tent just in time to see heavily armed hostile natives approaching. They hadn’t made a sound. He narrowly escaped that time.
Another time something made him stop before placing his hand on a rock during a dig. He looked more carefully and then spotted an asp, partially hidden by shadows.
He dressed quickly and then, after a moment’s hesitation, he placed his loaded pistol in his jacket pocket. There was no rational reason for doing this. He knew there was a guard on duty in the girls’ room. Still, the weight of the weapon made him a bit more secure.
Matt drove to the hospital. Even at midnight, there was some traffic as black and white cabs battled to take advantage of any small opening in the flow of traffic. He parked in the hospital’s parking lot. At least there were parking spots available at that time—unlike the day he was forced to park several blocks away.
The dim lights in the parking lot cast shadows. Matt couldn’t help himself from glancing back every few feet to see if someone was following him although the few cars in the lot reassured him he was alone. Matt nodded to a night nurse and headed down the hall. The hospital had bent the rules for him and for Tom Thornton. They could come and go any hour thanks to the investor’s donations.
The feeling he had in the pit of his stomach had not gone away. In fact it had grown more intense. He knew it was silly. The guard would assume he wasn’t trusted. In fact, he probably would insist that he show some kind of ID to keep the man from shooting him. He checked to make sure he had his wallet with his driver’s license.
It was silly. Everything seemed the same as it always was. The night nurse acted like everything was perfectly normal. Still, too many near-death escapes in too many far-flung countries caused him to ignore his brain and listen to his heart.
There was no nursing station in the immediate vicinity of the girls’ room because Tom insisted that the girls live in the newly b
uilt wing. It was true that the rooms here were much larger and the equipment more modern. The larger room made it possible for several guests to visit without making it uncomfortable for them or for the girls.
Matt reached the door and saw it open a crack. That was unusual since the guard usually insisted the door remain closed. Anyone opening it would give him sufficient warning to remove his weapon before he attacked.
Matt’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. He saw the shadow of a man in the room. He stood bent over Olivia and his hands were around her neck. Ignoring his own safety, Matt rushed into the room. The man looked up when the light in the hall illuminated the open door. His hands moved from Olivia’s neck to his pocket where Matt assumed the man had a weapon.
Matt swung his right fist at the man and connected on his chin. The assassin rocked back but didn’t fall. His hand closed on something in his pocket and Hunter saw a dagger. The assassin turned and moved towards Hunter. He slashed at him, but Hunter managed to dodge. He pulled his pistol from his jacket. The assassin dropped his knife, grabbed the end of the gun, and tried to rip it from his grip.
As Matt struggled for control, he noticed his assailant was older than he thought. His mustache had begun to turn gray, and his forehead was heavily wrinkled. The man was thin, but his arm muscles rippled. Matt noticed a glimmer of light coming from the man’s neck and then saw he wore a necklace similar to Olivia’s.
So, the cult to preserve the secrets of the Sphinx was trying again to kill his daughter. Matt felt like screaming that his daughter didn’t remember anything, but knew it was futile.
The two men struggled. Matt drew on a lifetime of skirmishes, as well as, countless bar room brawls. He kicked the man in the groin and pulled the gun free, putting himself firmly in control
“Don’t move or I’ll shoot,” Matt said.
He reached with his other hand for the phone. When the assassin took that opportunity to reach for the gun, Matt fired. The gunshot sounded extraordinarily loud in the room as Matt saw the man fall to the ground. He saw a dark colored stain grow larger on the man’s white shirt.
A nurse rushed in and then stepped back when she saw the gun in Matt’s hand. He carefully placed it on the table.
“He was trying to choke my daughter,” he said.
Matt suddenly remembered Olivia and leaned over the girl. He felt better when he heard her soft breathing. Meanwhile the nurse had called for emergency help. Soon two men entered with a stretcher and carried out the wounded assassin. Two security men rushed in just as the stretcher was being removed.
It turned into a long evening for Matt. First he had to tell his story to hospital security people, and then he had to repeat the story to the police who had many questions. The officer looked skeptical when Matt explained he had a ‘feeling’ that compelled him to come to the hospital.
Tom Thornton was called. He arrived still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He was stunned by developments but vouched for Matt, which carried some weight for the police. One confided that the man being treated had no identification. The police officer made a call to confirm that the injured man would have a police guard, just in case the man’s friends tried to silence him.
“I ordered twenty-four hour security. Where the hell was the guard?”
Tom Thornton was furious. He walked a few years away from where Hunter and the policeman were talking and called the security service.
“Why wasn’t someone here? That’s what I’ve been paying you for. We almost had a tragedy here.”
The voice at the other end was apologetic but insistent. “But sir. You called earlier today and cancelled the service. I have the message slip here. You called at four and said the girls would be going home and there was no need for a guard this evening.”
“I never called! Don’t you have some kind of security measure, some kind of code, to ensure that you are talking to your customer and not to an imposter?”
“Sir, we have never had such a situation before. We would be happy to set up such a process with you starting immediately.”
“I’ll get back to you!” Mister Thornton slammed this cell phone closed.
He realized just how vulnerable the two girls had been. Somehow, Matt’s intuition saved them this time. There was no reason to think there wouldn’t be more attempts in the future. Mister Thornton talked at length with the police officer in charge. He noted the red marks around Olivia’s neck. The officer agreed to post an officer outside the room for the next twenty-four hours. Meanwhile, the two fathers would discuss what kind of security they wanted in the future.
The good news was that the assassin came out of surgery and would live. He was now under police protection. They would guard him but also ensure that he didn’t try to take his own life. The Egyptian police were very good at extracting information. The officer confided grimly that he was sure they would learn all the facts “eventually.” Matt had shuddered when he realized what those words meant. If torture was an art form, then the Egyptian police were its Picassos.
Finally, Matt could go home. The police had taken his statement, interviewed him at length, and finally released him with the understanding that he would make himself available for more interviews as necessary. He had regretted that he had to hand over his pistol as evidence. It had served him well over the years.
The next day brought a big surprise. Doctor Fayez returned. This time he brought his boss with him, Doctor Muhab. Doctor Fayez was hesitant when they entered so Matt decided to ease the tension in the room.
“I’m sorry about the other day. I was so worried about the girls, I couldn’t think straight. I apologize for any misunderstanding.”
Doctor Fayez looked relieved.
“I understand. I have children as well so think no more about it.”
Doctor Muhab was a tall man with a very long, thin nose that dominated his face. He was balding and made an effort to hide that fact by combing over the remaining hair. He had a reputation for being very politically astute. He had survived numerous bureaucratic shake-ups. Rumors were that his political clout extended to the Army, as well as, to the previous Mubarak regime. That might account for why he still held his position.
“There are reports, strange reports that these two girls did miraculous things. Some of the prisoners report that your daughter had a strange weapon that blew a hole through a man and killed him instantly.”
“You know how rumors spread. How can you believe the word of fanatics?” Matt asked.
“Ah, but you and Mister Thornton were also present, and of course, you are not fanatics.”
“We were prisoners at the time. Things happened so quickly that neither one of us is sure what really took place. I do know that both our daughters had pistols.”
“Pistols. Of course pistols can’t create the damage that an Army officer saw when the came to arrest the Lions of Islam. He said he never has seen men so terrified in his life.”
Matt was growing tired of the game the bureaucrat was playing.
“What can we do for you, Excellency?”
“I would like to see the regalia that your daughter was wearing. I understand she was dressed some kind of queen, once again according to the officer. Also, there was some mention that she performed surgery with her bare hands. Most remarkable, don’t you think.”
“I’m not sure what happened to her clothes. Remember, she was taken to the hospital. Perhaps some attendants took the clothes.”
“That would be very regrettable. If any of these garments were relics, then your daughter would be guilty of a very serious offense, punishable by several years in jail and a very large fine. Our jails are rather uncomfortable, particularly for one so young.”
“Is this conversation necessary?”
Tom Thornton spoke without fear, using the voice he used when talking to a subordinate. Doctor Muhab looked as if he had been physically struck. He stepped back before addressing the investor.
“Mister Thornton. I am very aware o
f your many friends, but I am the sole person in charge of this country’s antiquities. As such, I could charge you with being an accessory to a crime.”
“We’ll just have to see who has more friends on both sides, won’t we. I understand my friends in the Muslim Brotherhood are not happy with your handling of the country’s wealth. They say too much wealth has disappeared. They believe there is graft. That’s against the laws spelled out in the Koran. People have been known to lose their lives over crimes like that.”
Doctor Muhab looked at Mister Thornton with a glance that revealed genuine hatred, as well as, some fear. There were few people who could intimidate him. This man, though, was rumored to have close friends on the Revolutionary Council and the Army. Such men were extremely dangerous. He had understood immediately that Thornton was calling his bluff. Any criminal charges against him or his friend or their daughters would be met by charges of corruption and graft. He shuddered to think of how much pleasure those self-righteous members of the Muslim Brotherhood would take in dislodging him and maybe even prosecuting him. It was a stalemate.
Doctor Fayez tried a different tact.
“I personally do not believe in any fairy tales about ancient technology and Atlantis, but, any such discoveries would be very unfortunate at this time of unrest.”
Matt smiled. Unfortunate indeed. It would ruin the entire Egyptian economy. “No more tourists would mean no more money.”
Doctor Muhab looked at the archeologist with obvious disdain.
“You need a license to do archeology in this country, Professor. No matter how many crackpot Scottish worshippers of the occult that you find, they do you no good if have no license. Perhaps your friend Mister Thornton does not need our cooperation, but you certainly do.”
“The public will demand that you allow excavation of the Hall of Records. It might not be me, but other archeologists will confirm what I’ve believed and said for years. That will be good enough for me. There are other countries where I can find more of these ‘relics,’” Matt said.
“You are naïve, Professor. Even your own Government does not want economic markets upset or new weapons unearthed that could change the world’s balance of power,” Doctor Muhab said.