Kingdom of Darkness (11 page)

‘Whoa indeed,’ said Assad as he advanced. His light revealed clear paths through the carefully arranged treasures. Banna was already following one across the vault, turning up a wide central aisle. At the far end was a broad flight of stone steps leading to a large and ornate opening in the wall. Statues holding spears and swords stood guard on each side.

He was about to ascend the stairs when he paused to examine something, then brought his light around to survey other parts of the gleaming display. ‘You see?’ called the Egyptian, looking back at Nina with a mocking smile as he pointed out a statue of a horse. ‘Bucephalus.’ Another jab at a different sculpture. ‘Bucephalus.’ And another. ‘Bucephalus. The treasury is full of them.’

‘That doesn’t mean these people aren’t after one in particular,’ Nina replied, but Banna was no longer listening.

Dina and Schofield spread out to catalogue the incredible sight on video, while Habib peered at his reflection in the gilded face of a replica of a Macedonian warrior. ‘It is more incredible than I ever imagined,’ he said. ‘A find for the ages.’

‘Yes,’ Assad agreed. ‘Well done, Ubayy! Well done! This is truly one of the greatest discoveries of our time.’

‘I would say
the
greatest,’ Banna answered, ‘and it is entirely an Egyptian find.’

Schofield gave Nina a look of long-suffering amusement. ‘What am I, chopped liver?’

Assad chuckled. ‘It is something to be proud of, that is for sure. Another wonder of the world to add to our collection! But we have not even seen the greatest wonder of all.’ He waved a hand towards the dark passage at the top of the stairs. ‘The burial chamber of Alexander the Great. Lead on, Dr Banna!’

Banna puffed out his chest in pride and went up the steps, stopping at the top. ‘Dina, Bill, come on! This must be filmed.’

‘No point making an amazing discovery if you can’t put it straight on YouTube, is there?’ Eddie said as the group marched up the central aisle.

‘He’s probably going to take a selfie with Alexander’s body,’ said Macy.

Assad smiled. ‘I know he can be very . . . what would be the best word? Intense.’

‘Not the word I’d have picked,’ said the Englishman.

‘But he is very dedicated, very thorough, and very knowledgeable. I would not have put him in charge of the dig if he were not. Just because he is young does not mean he does not deserve respect.’

Macy blushed. ‘Sorry.’ Eddie merely shrugged.

‘Dr Banna is right, though,’ said Habib. ‘There are many statues of Alexander’s horse. If somebody really does plan to raid the tomb, which one do they want to steal?’

‘I don’t know,’ Nina told him, ‘but they seem to have knowledge of the tomb that even we don’t. I’d guess they know specifically which one they’re after. And there’s still the matter of how they got hold of the map of the outer tomb – or rather, who they got it from.’

‘It is troubling, yes,’ said Assad. ‘You are certain it was an up-to-date plan?’

‘I’m positive. It showed more detail than the last version I saw when I was still at the IHA.’

‘Too bad you didn’t manage to keep it,’ said Schofield. ‘They’re time-stamped; we’d be able to work out who accessed it from our server.’

‘Yeah, too bad. It was kind of on fire, though.’

They headed up the stairs to meet the impatient Banna. He was already shining his light into the new tunnel, its walls decorated with reliefs. Unlike those in the outer tomb, these were painted, adding rich and vivid detail to the carved scenes. ‘At last,’ he said. ‘Now, I want both cameras to follow me so they see the inner tomb as I do.’

Nina peered past him. ‘You’re not going to make a complete survey of the treasury first?’

‘There will be plenty of time to do that once we have found Alexander. Now, the cameras.’ He clicked his fingers. Schofield and Dina took up position behind him. ‘It is time to meet the great king.’

‘Not playing up his part or anything, is he?’ Eddie said to Nina in a fake whisper.

Banna set off, lantern raised high. ‘I can see another room ahead,’ he narrated. ‘It is smaller than the treasury, but . . . it is definitely the burial chamber.’ Excitement rose in his voice. ‘I can see the coffin!’

His pace quickened, everyone else hurrying to keep up. Banna crossed the threshold and stared for a moment at what his lamp revealed, then turned to the cameras with an expression of almost childlike joy. ‘It
is
Alexander! We have found him!’

Nina entered the chamber with the rest of the group, and was struck by the same amazement as the young Egyptian. The room was dominated by a dais, on which stood an ornate sarcophagus. Unlike the solid stone or metal of the coffins of Egyptian pharaohs, this was made of a greenish glass, the individual panes supported by a gilded framework. The surface was far from smooth, distorting the view of what lay within . . . but it was still clear enough to reveal its occupant.

‘It’s really him,’ she gasped, creeping closer to get a better view through the rippled crystal. ‘It’s Alexander.’

‘He doesn’t look so great,’ Eddie commented. The body had been preserved in the ancient Egyptian manner, mummification, but was not wrapped in bandages. Instead the wizened figure was clad in silk robes of deep Tyrian purple, with parts of a suit of scale armour covering the shoulders and lower body. The corpse’s hands were crossed over its stomach, gold rings visible upon the fingers.

Nina saw Greek text upon the frame of the glass sarcophagus. ‘“A tomb now suffices him for whom the world was not enough”,’ she translated.

‘Oh, he was a James Bond fan?’

So thrilled he struggled to speak, Banna gestured for Schofield to film the coffin’s occupant. ‘The . . . the breastplate is gone, just as the records said – stolen by Caligula. And look, look – the nose is missing.’ He pointed at the dead king’s face, below the golden band encircling the forehead. Even through the lid’s distortions, a dark hole was clearly visible.

‘Broken by Augustus when he bent down to kiss the body,’ said Nina. Banna looked at her in mild surprise. ‘I did my research too.’

The young archaeologist was too enthralled to continue his rivalry, at least for the moment. ‘The coffin, glass, just as was written – the original golden coffin was melted down by Ptolemy IX Lathyrus.’

‘Why did he do that?’ Macy asked, torn between fascination and distaste at the sight of the eyeless, shrivelled corpse.

‘To turn into coins,’ Nina explained, gazing at the king’s remains. ‘However much they venerated Alexander, the rulers who came after him still needed money, wherever they could get it.’

Eddie surveyed the rest of the room. A selection of treasures, even more impressive than those in the chamber below, surrounded the dais. ‘A lot of this other stuff’s gold, as well as everything outside. Why’d he leave all this alone?’

‘Ptolemy Lathyrus ruled until 81
BCE
,’ said Banna, reluctantly turning away from the coffin. ‘But the tomb remained open for centuries after. These tributes must have been placed here later.’

Macy was keen to look at something other than a dead body. ‘Hey, Nina. There’s another statue of Alexander’s horse here.’

Nina’s interest was immediately drawn by the statue. It was about two feet long, sculpted so that the horse appeared to be in mid gallop, with its head held high and proud. Even from across the room, she could tell that the workmanship and detail were exquisite.

That was not what had caught her attention, though. It stood out because of its lack of ostentation. The other tributes around it dripped with gold, silver and gemstones, but this was content to be merely a beautiful piece of art rather than an extravagant display.

‘Let me see,’ she told Macy. Dina took her place to film the coffin as she joined her friend.

‘You found something?’ Eddie asked.

‘I’m not sure.’ Nina knelt, bringing her light to the statue. It was made of fired clay or ceramic, the surface delicately painted and then glazed to seal in the colours. Threads of gold picked out the animal’s tack, but beyond that it was unadorned . . .

She squinted, leaning nearer. There was something written
on
the tack, Greek text inscribed in tiny letters along the bands of the bridle and reins.

Macy peered over her shoulder. ‘What does it say?’

‘It’s really hard to read, especially in this light . . . Has anyone got a magnifying glass?’

There was a faintly embarrassed silence from the other archaeologists. ‘Seriously?’ said Nina. ‘Nobody’s brought a basic toolkit with them?’

Assad chuckled. ‘It would be a good idea to edit this from the video, yes?’

Habib headed back to the tunnel. ‘I will bring one from the cabin.’

‘No, it’s okay,’ said Nina as an idea came to her, but he had already gone. She took out her phone. ‘This can magnify, hold on . . .’ She activated the camera and zoomed in until the text on the screen became legible. ‘Here, I can read it.’

‘Well, what’s the story?’ Eddie asked after a few seconds.

‘Jeez, give me a chance!’ Nina moved the phone slowly over the statue’s surface. ‘It says, near enough, “No one could hope to match the sagacity and bravery of Alexander . . .”’

‘Whoever made that had a pretty high opinion of him.’

‘They wouldn’t be the only one. Although I wonder if it says who
did
make it?’ She checked the rest of the statue.

‘Why are you so fascinated by that one piece, Dr Wilde?’ asked Banna. ‘Alexander the Great himself is here, in this room, but you are more interested in his horse!’

‘I’m interested in his horse because the guy who tried to kill me was interested in it too,’ Nina said. ‘Okay, here’s another line . . . “The riddle of the Gordian Knot outwitted all, until Alexander’s wisdom found the answer.”’

‘The Gordian Knot?’ said Eddie. ‘That’s the one where he couldn’t unfasten it, so he just chopped it in half, right?’

‘That’s right,’ Nina answered, reading on. ‘“Only such great wisdom will solve the riddle of Bucephalus and reveal that which leads to the Spring of Immortality.”’ That aroused intrigued looks from the others.

Most of them, at least. ‘I shall continue to examine the body of Alexander the Great,’ Banna announced huffily and to nobody in particular. ‘Keep the camera on me!’ Dina, who had turned to watch Nina, hurriedly brought her phone back to the expedition leader.

‘Where’s this riddle?’ asked Eddie.

Assad joined Nina. ‘There must be more text.’

She reached for the statue, then hesitated, looking at the Egyptian for approval. He nodded. As carefully as she could, she lifted it. ‘It’s really heavy,’ she reported.

Assad supported the statue’s underside with one hand. ‘Fifteen kilograms, at least. It must be solid.’ He tapped softly on the horse’s flank with a knuckle, producing a dull clonk.

‘Sounds that way,’ Nina agreed. ‘Okay . . . I can’t see text anywhere except on the reins. Let’s see what the rest of it says.’ They lowered the sculpture, and she brought her phone back up.

It did not take long to read the rest of the inscriptions. ‘Well, that’s a little weird.’

Eddie came over. ‘What is it?’

‘You remember the story in the
Alexander Romance
, where Andreas the cook accidentally discovered the Spring of Immortality?’

‘Yeah?’

‘According to the text, this statue was
made
by Andreas. He put it in the burial chamber to honour his king.’ Now even Banna looked up from his examination of the coffin to listen. ‘It also says that when he did that . . . he was over three hundred years old.’

‘Impossible!’ Banna snapped.

‘I’m just reading what it says. Andreas found the Spring of Immortality again after Alexander died. The statue can show the way to it – if you solve its riddle.’

‘But what
is
the riddle?’ asked Macy.

‘I don’t know.’ Nina checked the horse’s belly, but found no more text.

‘On the feet, perhaps,’ Assad suggested. He and Nina gently turned the statue over. Again, there was nothing visible, even on the underside of the hooves. ‘Or hidden in the hairs of the tail?’

‘What are you
doing
?’ hooted Banna. ‘Ismail, this is the greatest find in years, and you are ignoring it!’

‘No, I am not ignoring it,’ Assad told him as he put the equine sculpture back on its feet. ‘But I am paying more attention to a
threat
to it. This statue must be the one Dr Wilde’s attackers plan to steal. So, to ensure the safety of the rest of the tomb, we need to take it to a secure location.’ He straightened. ‘I will return to the antechamber and bring the ASPS so that—’

The chamber shook, a single sharp pulse jolting the floor. The treasures rattled as a low, forceful
whump
rolled around the space.

Eddie’s gaze whipped towards the exit. ‘That was a fucking bomb!’

Banna gawped at him. ‘A
bomb
? But—’

Another sound thundered through the tunnels, a tearing crunch of falling stone and rubble. The golden tributes juddered again, dust dropping from the arched ceiling. Banna gasped and splayed his upper body over the coffin to protect the figure inside.

The echoes of the impact faded, to be replaced by new noises in the distance.

Gunfire – and screams.

8

‘Jesus!’ cried Nina as the horribly familiar chatter of automatic weapons reached her. ‘They must have blasted their way in!’

‘Who?’ demanded Banna, wide-eyed with confusion and fear.

‘If they’re the same lot as the bloke who came after Nina, they’re fucking
Nazis
!’ Eddie pulled his wife to her feet. ‘We’ve got to get out of here, or we’ll be trapped. Oi, Hulk!’ he added to Banna, who was still trying to shield Alexander’s remains. ‘It’s not him you need to worry about.’

More gunfire howled down the passage, the pitch and tempo different. ‘The ASPS are shooting back!’ said Assad.

‘Yeah, but it doesn’t sound like there’s as many of ’em.’

‘Where are we going?’ Nina protested as everyone ran into the tunnel. ‘There’s only one way out of here.’

‘Sounded like they blew another one.’ Eddie listened to the battle. Even though his hearing had been degraded by years of exposure to loud, explosive noises, it was the higher frequencies that had been affected the most; he had no trouble picking out the roar of bullets being fired. ‘Jesus, it must be a fucking slaughterhouse.’

‘Are the ASPS winning?’ Nina asked. His grim expression gave her an answer. ‘Oh, crap.’

They re-entered the treasury. It was much darker than before. The reason became clear once they descended the stairs and could see the entrance past the pillars: the spotlights were off. ‘They have cut the power,’ reported the worried Assad. ‘What do we do?’

‘We can’t fight ’em,’ Eddie replied. The firing had stopped – and the last shots he had heard were from the invading force’s guns, suggesting that the defenders had been overrun. ‘If we can shut the door, we might be able to hole up in here until backup arrives.’

‘It weighs two tons!’ Banna protested. ‘And the winch is on the other side. We will never be able to move it.’

‘Won’t know unless we try. Come on! Bill, Dr Assad, give us a hand.’ Eddie ran to the doorway, the other men following.

‘What about us?’ Macy asked, even beneath her fear sounding a little offended on behalf of the three women. ‘We can help too!’

‘Not being sexist, Macy, but you weigh as much as a crispbread. Find somewhere to hide.’ He rounded the great bronze door. ‘Bill, help me push it. You two, pull from the inside.’

The Egyptians took hold of a handle behind the lock and hauled at it as Eddie and Schofield pressed their shoulders against the door’s face. ‘Shit!’ gasped the American. ‘It’s not moving!’

‘It’s wedged on the floor – push harder!’ The bronze barrier shifted slightly as the four men strained, its corner rasping against the stone slabs. A shadow obscured the light from inside the treasury. ‘Nina!’ said Eddie as his wife ran through the opening and joined him. ‘Get back inside!’

‘You won’t close it in time without help,’ she replied through clenched teeth.

‘It won’t matter if it’s shut if you’re on the wrong side of it!’

Nina was about to reply when she heard a noise behind her. ‘Someone’s coming!’

Running footsteps echoed down the passage. ‘Shit, they’re here,’ Eddie growled. Despite their efforts, the gap was still wide enough for a person to fit through. ‘Go and—’

‘Wait!’ said Assad as shouts reached them – in Arabic. ‘It is one of the ASPS!’

Eddie twisted to look down the dark tunnel. A jittering shaft of light appeared from around the last corner. The approaching man had a torch, the beam swinging as he hared down the passage – but the noise of more runners warned the Englishman that his pursuers were not far behind. ‘We’ll never get this door closed,’ he realised.

‘Do we keep pushing?’ Schofield asked.

‘No point now – get inside and hide. You too, Nina.’ He straightened, glancing back as Nina and Schofield ducked through the gap. The running man reached the corner—

The stuttering orange of a gun’s muzzle flash silhouetted the Egyptian against the walls – which were discoloured by splatters of blood. The man fell.

Time was up. ‘Shit!
Go!
’ Eddie barked, following the others through the opening. He heard a shout from behind. The attackers had seen him. ‘Find cover!’

He dived behind a statue – as more bullets tore through the air above him, smacking into the stone pillars beyond. The door rang like a gong as stray bullets struck it. He scrambled along the floor until he was clear of the danger zone, then jumped up. ‘Hide and turn out the lights!’

Another sustained burst cracked against the stonework. Assuming that anyone inside the tomb could be armed, the attackers were using overwhelming firepower to deter them from shooting back. But the suppressing fire had also cut Eddie off from Nina. She and the others had gone towards the burial chamber, while he – and Macy, whom he glimpsed climbing into a large metal chest – were isolated at the opposite end of the treasury.

More shouts from just outside, spears of light stabbing through the opening. The archaeologists hurriedly switched off their lanterns, Eddie and Nina’s eyes meeting for one last desperate moment before she too disappeared into the darkness. He muttered a curse, then crouched and felt his way through the ranks of tributes in what he hoped was Macy’s direction.

Something flashed through the probing torch beams and clanked loudly on the floor. Eddie guessed what it was, closing his eyes and clamping both hands over his ears, but there was no time to warn the others—

The stun grenade exploded with a piercing bang and a blinding flash. Schofield and Dina had instinctively turned towards the noise when it landed – and both screamed as the detonation overpowered their senses.

Men swarmed through the opening, golden visors shielding their eyes. Powerful tactical lights mounted on their guns pierced the darkness as they searched for targets.

They found two, reeling helplessly from the stun blast.

Guns blazed, short but deadly bursts. The archaeologists were cut down, tumbling bloodily amidst the ancient treasures.

Nina had found cover behind a golden sculpture of Bucephalus, kneeling and protecting her eyes – but the grenade’s crack still hit her like a physical blow. Ears ringing, she struggled to rise . . .

A bright light pinned her. Still dizzy, she squinted into the glare – and saw a gun taking aim—

A sharp command, and the weapon withdrew, though the spotlight under its muzzle remained locked upon her. Figures marched past, more beams scouring the shadows. She picked out snatches of speech as her hearing returned, but didn’t understand the words. The language sounded familiar, however. German?

Someone moved in front of her, partially shading her from the pitiless light. Nina looked up at an unsmiling man in dark overalls, his eyes hidden behind a visor. The gunman spoke, again in German; the black-haired new arrival replied dismissively, then removed his face shield.

Nina felt a chill of recognition. She had seen him before – at the United Nations. It was Rasche, one of the men whose photographs the FBI had shown her. A wanted Nazi war criminal.

But like his comrade from Los Angeles, he was too young. The man staring down at her with intense, dangerous eyes had aged since the mugshot was taken, but still appeared to be only in his early forties, not much older than Eddie.

He spoke to the gunman; Banna’s name was mentioned. That snapped her back to full awareness. Where were her companions, and what had happened to them? Where was Eddie? She looked around. Other intruders were moving through the treasury, hunting for the rest of the group. One huge hulk had already located Assad, hauling the older man to his feet. Another black-clad man dragged the dazed Banna out from behind a pillar.

‘You are Dr Nina Wilde?’ She looked back at the mad-eyed man.

‘Uh . . . yeah, yes I am,’ she mumbled.

He gazed unsettlingly at her as if examining a specimen under a microscope, then surveyed the treasury. ‘Anyone else who is here, show yourself now!’ he shouted. ‘If you do not, you will be killed on sight.’ The command was repeated in Arabic, but stiffly, the phrases learned by rote.

Two more intruders, both young men, called out. Nina shuddered as she saw Schofield and Dina’s blood-splashed bodies in the beams of their lights. Rasche stared at Nina again. ‘Are there more people with you?’

She forced herself not to glance in the direction where she had last seen her husband. ‘No.’

‘If you are lying, I will kill you.’ There was distinct anticipation in his voice at the prospect.

‘This is all of us, I swear.’

It was evident that he didn’t believe her, but seconds passed with no reports from the other searchers. ‘Very well,’ he said eventually. ‘Where is the body of Alexander the Great?’

She gestured towards the stairs. ‘Up there.’

He nodded. ‘You will come with us.’

The gunman yanked her to her feet and shoved her towards Banna and Assad, who had been corralled in the main aisle by their captors. Nina counted twelve men altogether, all armed with sub-machine guns and wearing webbing holding extra magazines. Some had other equipment too: more stun grenades, lethal hand grenades, even blocks of plastic explosive.

She risked looking back for any sign of Eddie, or Macy. Nothing. At least two of the intruders had searched the area where he had been, so he must have found a hiding place . . .

The gigantic man holding Assad – Walther, another of the escaped war criminals – regarded Nina with a hard expression. ‘Dr Wilde,’ he said, ‘take us to the statue of Bucephalus.’

‘Which one?’ she asked, playing for time. If their attackers could be delayed in the tomb, it would give Egyptian reinforcements a chance to respond. ‘There are several.’ She indicated a couple of the nearest examples.

Rasche snorted – then lashed out with a gloved fist, knocking her to the floor. Banna flinched, while Assad stiffened in outrage. ‘Do not waste my time. You were given stolen plans of this operation; that you are here proves you know what we seek.’ Nina glared up at him, a hand to her cheek.

‘I – I am in charge of this dig,’ said Banna, voice pitched high with fear before he cleared his throat and managed to lower it. ‘If you want anything, speak to me. She is only an observer; she is no longer even a member of the IHA.’

Nina saw Walther and Rasche exchange looks. Had they expected her to be an official part of the excavation? ‘Then
you
will take us to the statue of Bucephalus,’ said Rasche, pointing his gun at Banna. The young archaeologist shrank back. ‘The one in the burial chamber.’

‘Do as he asks,’ said Assad. ‘Nobody else needs to get hurt.’

‘Good. Now move.’ Rasche issued more orders, and five of his men started back towards the entrance. The rest pushed the three prisoners to the stairs.

In the darkness at the other end of the chamber, the lid of a bronze chest opened slightly. Eddie peered through the gap, the start of a creak from the hinges deterring him from lifting it higher. ‘Bollocks!’ he whispered. ‘They’re taking Nina up to the coffin. Assad and Banna, too.’

A strained squeak came from beneath him. ‘Eddie, your elbow’s right on my chest!’ Macy gasped.

‘It’s okay, you’ve got plenty of padding there.’

‘What? You
asshole
!’

Eddie smiled faintly, but the brief levity vanished as he saw that some of the attackers were positioning themselves to guard the entrance. The nearest man was twenty feet from him. His hiding place was not in their direct line of sight, but he doubted he would be able to get out of the box without making a noise – and drawing their fire. Farther away, Nina and the others climbed the steps to the burial chamber. ‘Shit,’ he muttered.

Macy squirmed beneath him. ‘What’s happening? Are Nina and the others okay?’

‘For now, but I doubt they’re going to let them go. And Bill and Dina are dead.’

‘Oh my God! They’re – they’ll kill us too!’

‘Stay calm,’ he told her, changing position to take as much of his weight off her as he could. ‘I won’t let that happen.’

His assurance calmed her, a little. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Buggered if I know.’

‘Y-yeah, that helps.’

‘First things first. I need to figure out how to get out of this fucking box without them hearing me.’ He shifted until he was able to put his hand down beside her neck, then carefully levered himself up, raising the lid again until it began to creak.

The guards hadn’t moved, watching the door – and Nina and the others were now out of sight.

‘There,’ said Banna as the intruders pushed the surviving archaeologists into the burial chamber. ‘There is the statue. Please, take it. We will not stop you.’

Most of the torch beams turned to where he was pointing, but some explored other parts of the room. Walther whistled appreciatively as he shone his own light over a large golden vase decorated with multicoloured gemstones. The huge man made a suggestion, which drew chuckles from some of his companions.

Rasche did not share their amusement. Nina guessed from his impatient reply that he was telling the others they were only there for the statue. The younger men responded to the rebuke by straightening and issuing apologies, but Walther was more relaxed, shaking his head in wry amusement. He spoke again, Nina understanding a few words: ‘
Wir brauchen mehr Gold, Rasche.
’
We need more gold, Rasche
.

Rasche spoke again, with more anger. Walther shrugged, but acquiesced. He crouched and clamped his massive hands around the sculpture, lifting it as easily as though it was a bag of sugar.

‘So you’ve got what you came for,’ said Nina, fear rising. Now that they had the statue, the Nazis had no reason to keep their prisoners alive. ‘What are you going to do with us?’

Rasche did not respond at once, instead gazing at the desiccated figure inside the crystal coffin. ‘So this is Alexander . . .’

‘You are interested in the great king?’ asked Banna.

Rasche shook his head. ‘Not I. But our Führer has a fascination with the man. Which is fortunate for us, as otherwise we would not—’ He caught himself, as if about to give away some secret. ‘It is a shame we cannot take the body. He would like to possess it, very much.’

‘Egypt will pay anything you ask to ensure the safety of Alexander’s remains,’ said Assad. ‘I am the senior archaeologist of the Ministry of State for Antiquities; if it is necessary, I will act as a hostage during negotiations.’