Four Ways to Pharaoh Khufu (25 page)

Chapter 36

Kursky Railway Terminal, Moscow, Russia

Saturday, September 23

10:34 p.m.

T
he Kursky railway station, the largest railway station in Moscow, dates back to 1860 when the first building was constructed. Leo Tolstoy’s immortal novel, “Anna Karenina,” describes the character Vronsky as departing to war from there. Unfortunately, the building did not entirely survive to the present time. In 1972 the train terminal was rebuilt while retaining some of its old accommodations, including the colonnade and rich modeling inside. The building now has glass panels spanning the impressive fifty-foot high front that faces the station’s square. It is covered with plicate roofing, an industrial modern style that is folded in a box-like fan configuration. The roof extends thirty feet past the roof like a visor, spanning the front of the station. The terminal’s spacious halls can accommodate eleven thousand people simultaneously.

As soon as the taxi rolled up to the entrance, Michael and Anna ran inside, looking for the information booth. Even at this hour of the evening, there was a line. While they waited Anna pulled out her iPhone, tapped on her language app and typed, “Where are the storage lockers?” When they arrived at the window, the agent inside looked at them expectantly. When Anna held her iPhone up, the metallic Russian voice amused the man. Grinning, the agent pulled out a station map. Gesturing toward the escalators, he indicated they should ride it down to the lower level. Pointing to the map, he made a big “X” for the location of the lockers. When Anna’s iPhone said, “Thank you,” the agent laughed and nodded in response. Michael and Anna smiled back, grateful for this way of communicating. Michael took the map, and they found their way to the giant escalators, located in the center of the grand hall.

After their escalator ride they walked wearily to the lockers. When the rows of lockers came into view, however, they suddenly felt energized. Stepping up the pace, they hurriedly started checking the numbers and finding their way through the maze. Michael was walking rapidly down a row, counting off the numbers when Anna pointed at a rather ordinary looking box, crying out, “Here it is! Number fifty-seven.”

“There it is,” Michael replied, feeling relieved. He shuffled inside his pants pockets, and then pulled them inside out, visibly frustrated.

“What’s wrong?” asked Anna, her smile fading.

“I think I’ve lost the key.” He reached back and checked his back pockets.

“What?”

He shook his head as he frantically patted and checked his jacket pockets.

“Please don’t tell me this,” Anna groaned.

“Here it is!” Michael said slyly, holding up the key.

“Oh, come on Michael, that’s not funny,” Anna put her hand to her forehead. “I’m so tired.”

“I know, I’m sorry. Just wanted to see your reaction, that’s all.”

She punched his arm as he laughed merrily at her. She grinned and started chuckling herself, shaking her head.

Michael slowly inserted the key inside the lock, and it was the perfect fit. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to turn the key in either direction, it remained in the upright position, despite all of his efforts.

“Maybe it’s the wrong key?” he wondered out loud. He wiggled the key and pounded the door. “I could break this door open with no problem.”

“Oh, really,” said Anna sarcastically. “Look around you. You see those black domes on the ceiling? Those are called surveillance cameras. So, if you want to spend the rest of your vacation in the Gulag, then, please, break this lock.”

“OK, so what do you suggest?”

“Hold on, I’ll be right back,” she turned and started striding down the aisle. In a few minutes she returned to Michael, visibly excited. “Hey! There was a nice couple from England a few rows down, newlyweds backpacking through Europe.”

“Oh, I see,” he said, chuckling, “I’ll bet you’ve talked them into breaking into our locker. That for sure will spice up their honeymoon!”

“I’ll bet that certainly would, or if you put some coins right here in this slot, then the key will magically turn.”

Michael just looked at her, surprised.

“And, yes,” Anna added with a smug smile, “The couple gave me some coins as well, so you’re welcome.”

“Ooohhhh.” Michael could not believe he had missed the coin slot on the locker. He stepped aside as she inserted the coins. Michael turned the key and the door swung open. Reaching inside he retrieved a small wooden box.

“Wow,” said Anna, stunned. “That’s an old Cuban cigar box. My father used to smoke Cuban cigars just like these.”

Michael looked closely at the box lid, which was held in place by black tape. Suddenly a family walked down their aisle.

Anna leaned forward, whispering, “Let’s just take it back to our hotel room.”

Michael nodded as he stuffed the box inside his backpack.

As soon as Michael and Anna emerged back on the street outside the station, a fresh, chill wind gently brushed their faces. It started raining. A train had recently arrived, and the passengers were crowding the square. It seemed as if every one of them needed a taxi. Every attempt Michael made to signal a taxi was simply in vain.

“Let’s try over there,” Anna suggested, pointing in the direction of a movie theater, about a hundred feet away. They started walking down the street. When they were almost to the movie theater, Anna suddenly pulled hard on Michael’s left sleeve and clandestinely moved her head slightly toward the other side of the road.

“Don’t say anything,” she said whispering, not looking at him, “just carefully look across the street.”

Michael scratched his head, turning slightly, spotting the man who gotten Anna’s attention. He wore dark pants and a brown sweatshirt with a hood, which was up, covering his hair.

“Do you think it’s him?” asked Michael.

“Of course it’s him, who else might that be?”

“I mean, that could be him, but it’s almost impossible to tell. There’s a shadow across his face, and his hair is completely covered up.”

“I’m telling you Michael, it is him. I have a gut feeling, trust me.”

At that same moment, a strong gust of wind blew across the road. The stranger’s hood blew back, revealing his bushy Afro hair. Michael’s heart sank. Looking ahead he saw a trolleybus approaching. “As soon as this trolleybus gets closer and he can’t see us, we’re gonna run, you got it?”

Anna nodded as she continued to look straight ahead. As soon as the approaching trolleybus interrupted their view of the Medjay, both Michael and Anna bolted to the entrance of the nearest subway station.

Chapter 37

Kurskaya Subway station, Moscow, Russia

Saturday, September 23

11:04 p.m.

I
f subway commuters were asked whether they liked using the subway, it would sound like a trick question. To the many daily subway passengers who spend more than an hour traveling to work and then an hour to get back home, who do this while choked on every side by a dense crowd, who must run to make the connection from one subway line to another, who oftentimes are flying to cram themselves inside a crowded car, at the last moment, one arm holding the closing door open while using the other to squeeze inside the last few square inches of a tightly crammed space, this may seem like an inane question. This is how they travel day after day, year after year, for their everyday life. What can a subway passenger answer to this question? The same as the passengers of the Tokyo, London, Paris and Moscow subways, “Do we have a choice?”

Even after many years of daily riding the New York City MTA subway system with two-hour rides, Michael still had not lost that mystical and mysterious feeling of his first experience with the subway. When five-year-old Michael first opened the doors leading to the subway, an enchanted underground world was unlocked for him. The realm of the subway held a comfortable, lingering nostalgia of childhood for him, where, as is commonly believed, people were different, houses were different, and the subway was also, well, different. Those nostalgic feelings accompanied Michael throughout his life, and he always felt at home on the subway trains, even when compacted to a state of almost complete immobility in a crowded subway car. For some people the subway is just the usual part of the urban landscape or one of the types of its infrastructure. But for others, and Michael belonged with no doubt to this category, the subway was not just a mode of transportation, but something magical and special.

As they dashed to the entrance and scrambled down the stairs, this was Michael and Anna’s first time to use the famed Moscow subway system. Built during Stalin’s rule, these metro stations were supposed to display the best of Soviet architecture and design in order to show off the privileged lifestyle of the Russian people. Often called “the people’s palaces,” they were elegantly designed with a lavish use of marble, mosaics, sculptures and chandeliers. During World War II the city’s metro stations were used as air raid shelters. Many of the larger stations were used for important political and tactical meetings. Today the Metro system has grown into an enormous network of twelve interconnecting lines and over 185 stations, with new stations opening almost every year.

After whisking through the underground steps leading down into the subway, they experienced an initial, visual jolt. The contrast of Moscow’s ostentatious subway to the bleak concrete walls of an ordinary subway back home was startling. Then Michael observed a familiar sight: the turnstiles. Leading the way, Michael bypassed the purchasing of tickets and jumped over the turnstile, a bad habit he had developed during his teenage years growing up in Brooklyn. Anna followed suit, as they raced to the nearest train, managing to jump inside as its doors closed. Michael and Anna sighed with relief when the train surged forward, but the moment was fleeting. As the train shuddered to a stop and opened its doors again, their anxious eyes met. “We gotta move, come on,” Michael urged as he started making his way to the front of the train car.

As they dodged and squeezed around the late-night passengers, the doors closed shut and the train pulled forward, slowly departing from the Kurskaya station once again.

When they reached the door at the end of the train car, Michael spoke, “We gotta make it to the front car.” Opening it, he stepped onto the short-end platform and carefully stepped over to the next car’s platform. He extended his arms and as soon he felt Anna’s hands, he squeezed them tight and pulled her to himself. It was in this manner that they managed to pass through all of the cars and reached the train’s front car.

The air conditioning system seemed to be out of order. As the train roared through the tunnel, the stale outside air rushed in through the open windows, cooling off their faces with a dry and dirty smell. Every time the train stopped at a station, however, the heat became unbearable, making them wish it would start moving again. In the middle of the car, Anna found a metal bar to lean against. Michael approached her saying, “Next stop we’re getting off. I’m tired.” As the doors shut and the train started pulling away from the station, he walked over to the front of the car.

Anna reached inside her purse and pulled out hair elastic. Moving quickly she smoothed and pulled her long reddish-brown hair into a ponytail. Her skin was starting to feel damp, so she started unzipping her jacket. Suddenly somebody’s hand was squeezing her wrist tightly, something pointy pressed against her back. Above the subway noise, a male voice in her ear threatened, “I’ll kill you if you scream.”

The train lugged to a stop at the next station and the doors opened up, letting the passengers in and out. Michael started for the doors. “OK,” he called out, turning toward Anna, “Let’s go.” He spotted her standing absolutely still with the Medjay right behind her, holding her tightly. Furious, Michael strode toward Anna. The tribesman was becoming more of a nuisance than a real threat. Then he noticed the Medjay’s sword. He stopped.

“You make one move, and she is dead,” the Medjay said ominously, his eyes red and bloody.

Meanwhile, the doors slammed shut and the train started moving again. The subway’s roaring filled the car once again. Anna put her left hand onto the metal bar to steady herself as the train turned a corner, jerking them both to the side. Still, the Medjay kept his sword pressed hard against her back, and his large hand wrapped tightly around her right wrist.

“What do you want?” Michael demanded.

The lights went out and Michael instinctively jumped. The Medjay seemed to have anticipated the move and managed to avoid the initial blow to his head. Michael grabbed and twisted the Medjay’s hoodie with his left hand while the other hand groped blindly for the Medjay’s hand holding the sword. In the total darkness the subway noise seemed deafening.

“Anna, get away!” Michael screamed just as the lights flickered back on, blinking unevenly for a few moments until the car was fully lit. The train sped up into the curve, its wheels screeching, the car swaying. Still struggling, Michael finally managed to locate and then with his two hands tightly squeeze the Medjay’s hand holding the sword. The car jerked, throwing them both forward. Michael’s arms were stretched in front of him, pulling at the handle of the sword. The train jerked again, slamming Michael’s full body weight on top of the Medjay’s.

“Aaah,” the Medjay cried out, but he managed to hold onto his sword as the train came out of the curve and the car stabilized.

The passengers in the car had slowly moved, positioning themselves away from the two men fighting on the floor. Michael could hear many voices talking, but could not make out a single word they were saying. The Medjay growled as he pushed away, managing to free himself from Michael’s hands as he jumped back onto his feet, still holding onto his sword. Spotting Anna in the crowd, the Medjay leapt to her, throwing out his free arm and catching her in a chokehold. A tense cry rose up from the passengers, yet none made any attempt to intervene. After seeing the full extent and size of the Medjay’s sword, Michael was not surprised.

“Leave her alone!” Michael commanded, jumping to his feet. The train started slowing down, jerking to a stop at a station. Amid the screeching noises and the doors sliding open, Michael could hear the crowd screaming and rushing out, their cries echoing through the underground station. Passengers waiting on the platform stepped away. The doors closed and the train began moving. They were alone with the terrifying Medjay.

Anna screamed, “What do you want from me?” In reply, the Medjay started dragging Anna to the door leading to the next train car. Michael followed them as the Medjay opened the door, glaring at him. “Please,” Anna gasped, digging her fingers into the Medjay’s arm, which was clenched around her neck. She could barely be heard above the thunderous noise of the moving train. “No, please, no,” she whimpered as the Medjay, laughing wickedly, jerked her back and forth, pulling her onto the tiny platform that separated the two cars. Michael followed them, stepping onto the overcrowded platform.

“Do not come any closer or she is dead!” the Medjay shouted. “Give me the map.”

“Who are you and why do you keep pursuing us?” asked Michael.

“I’m Asim from the Egyptian tribe of the Medjay warriors. Her father stole the stele from us and tried to sell it to smugglers to pay off his gambling debts.”

“My father never gambled,” cried Anna as she attempted to wrench out of his grasp. “He never even played cards.”

“He hid the stele and mailed the map to her,” continued Asim, ignoring her remarks.

“He didn’t mail me any map,” Anna screamed, struggling against him.

“That’s a lie and I want that map right now,” Asim demanded, brandishing the sword and bringing it to Anna’s neck.

Suddenly the train shook violently and stuttered to a screeching, deafening halt. Michael grabbed one of the metal chains hanging loosely between the cars. White smoke from the brakes filled the surrounding area.

Anna
! Michael thought, squinting hard to see through the thick smoke. He spotted her clinging to the edge of the platform with half of her body hanging off the platform. The Medjay had fallen as well, his feet almost touching the tracks as he held on to Anna.

“Anna, hold on!” Michael shouted, grabbing her arm. The train started pulling forward, slowly accelerating. He tried to pull her up but the Medjay held tightly on to her, unwilling to let her go. Anna tried to wrap her legs around the coupling mechanism of the interconnecting cars, but that also proved to be useless.

“Let her go!” Michael shouted. “I will pull her up and then will get you out.”

The Medjay shook his head in disagreement.

“Trust me, I will not leave you.”

The Medjay shook his head again.

“Remember Berlin? I saved you! Didn’t I?” asked Michael.

“Her father is the thief. He stole the stele and I killed him. Now it’s her turn!”

“Listen!” Michael screamed. “Your name is Asim, right?”

“Yes, Asim, the Protector.”

“OK. Asim, her father didn’t steal your tribe’s stele. That’s the lie.”

“My chief informed me that he was the thief.”

“Your chief was mistaken.”

“Our Great Chief is never mistaken!” the Medjay thundered. “And now the daughter of the thief will die with me!” Asim started pulling Anna down.

“Nobody has to die!”

“Michael!” Anna screamed, pain and fear twisting through her voice. “I can’t hold on any longer.”

“Asim! No!”

“He’s forcing me down,” Anna screamed again, struggling as tears mixed with sweat ran down her cheeks.

“Last chance!” shouted Michael. “Asim, if you want to die today then it’s your choice, but don’t make that decision for her.”

“We both will die today,” Asim declared, forcing Anna’s hands to release their hold.

“No,” replied Michael firmly. “Only you.”

Anna straightened her back, allowing Michael to squeeze in between her and the Medjay. With one hand holding Anna’s arm and the other squeezing the metal security chains tightly, Michael managed to give his right leg a powerful thrust, striking the Medjay’s face. The Medjay screamed but still held on to Anna. Michael pounded him several more times with his foot, unleashing all of his rage. He stopped and leaned toward the Medjay, breathing heavily. “Give up! Come on … I’ll help you up!”

The Medjay growled.

“It doesn’t have to end this way!” Michael pleaded.

“We will all die today!” the Medjay screamed and lunged, attempting to pull them both down with him. Holding on for dear life to Anna and the metal security chains, Michael snapped into position and in a wild rage started kicking the Medjay, now aiming for his throat. The Medjay’s strength was waning. Anna felt his grip loosening as he feverishly struggled to hold on to her. Michael stopped to catch his breath and looked down at the filthy, sweaty, grunting Medjay warrior clinging to Anna.

Once again the wheels began their screeching noise and a white smoke started to plume up from below as the train started to slow down, pulling into the next station on the line. The Medjay’s bloody and bulging eyes stared into Michael’s. A moment later, they heard the thumping sound of his body being tossed against the wheels as the car jumped and swayed. The penetrating smell of burning ripped flesh filled the air.

Michael pulled Anna to the top of the platform between the trains. “Are you OK?”

“I’m alive!” Anna cried out, tears streaming from her eyes as she tightly embraced Michael.

“It’s all over,” Michael said, rubbing her back as they walked through the train. He picked up her purse and handed it to her. They were both shaking as they wearily stepped out onto the crowded station platform.

“Aahh!” A woman’s shrieks pierced through the station, echoing through the magnificent hall. The screaming woman stumbled but was caught by several passengers as a crowd started to gather. People started flooding to that part of the station. The screaming woman was now silent, her face still portraying the horror she must have observed.

Michael and Anna started walking to the exit, but were pulled along by the gathering crowd. Passengers were looking down on the tracks and then desperately trying to get away from the sight. Some of the women screamed in terror or wept, while most people looked ill and disturbed by what curiosity had driven them to look at. This attracted more gawkers who pushed through the crowd to fill their eyes with what had caused the disturbance.

Peeking around various passengers, Michael and Anna finally managed to see what they already knew. Wedged between the train car and the platform was a man’s head, ripped from his body. The man’s disheveled Afro hair was still visible from one side of his head as the other side was severely burned. The one remaining eye, bloody and bulging, stared into the faces of the curious.