The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers) (10 page)

Acton
looked up and saw a bucket being lowered and moments later it was on the ground
beside him.

“Got
it!”

He
pulled out the flashlight and flicked it on, playing the beam about him, and
gasped.

“You’re
not going to believe what I’m looking at!” he yelled, his heart again pounding,
but this time with excitement.

“What is
it?” asked Laura.

Acton
dropped to his knees as he played the beam across the stone wall in front of
him.

“It’s
the mother lode.”

Outskirts, Alexandria, Egypt

30 BC, Seven Weeks After Cleopatra’s Death

“There, just behind that outcropping.”

Dalila
pointed with a shaking hand and Tarik held up the torch, lighting the way. At
first he didn’t see it, merely more shadows, but as he neared, he began to see
a deep shadow the light didn’t seem to penetrate. He stepped next to the
shadow, and pushed the torch inside, followed by his head, and gasped. There
was indeed a passageway, leading deeper into the cliff side.

“I found
it!” he whispered. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned. It was Jabari.

“Wait, I
hear something,” he said. They all froze, then Jabari stepped back, allowing
Tarik to exit the crevice.

“What is
it?”

Jabari
shook his head, then pointed to where he had heard the sound. Tarik drew his
dagger, as did Jabari, and they both rounded the outcropping, Tarik now hearing
the sound. He couldn’t describe it over the pounding of his heart in his chest,
his ears flooded with panic, but as he rounded the stone mass, he knew he had
to calm himself for the battle he might be about to step into.

He
regretted not bringing a sword.

Next
time you come prepared!

It had
been a mad rush in the dark of night to get here, all of them stunned by the
revelation that Dalila was the desecrator, the betrayer of their trust. None
had thought about what they were doing, instead rushing headlong here, and it
wasn’t until their arrival that he remembered why they were here.

Dalila
had said the thieves were returning tonight.

And that
meant their weaponry was woefully inadequate.

They
rounded the outcropping and he heard Jabari, in the lead, breathe a sigh of
relief, and moments later Tarik saw why. It was a horse, munching quietly on a
pile of hay left by its owner to keep it in place. The docile beast looked up
at them, then returned to its feeding, unperturbed.

“They
must be here,” said Dalila behind them.

Tarik
nodded. “We must be careful. They may be better armed than us.”

Jabari
pointed at the supplies loaded on the camel.

“Perhaps
not.”

Draped
over the back of the beast were several leather straps, bags attached, and two
swords, tucked into their sheaths.

Tarik
smiled.

“It
would appear they aren’t expecting company.”

He
stepped up to the animal, then lay a hand on its neck, patting it gently.
“That’s it, you’ve nothing to fear from me. Your master sent me to get his
swords, that’s all,” he whispered, soothing the unpredictable creature. He
didn’t want to get in the way of a startled or panicked horse. Having been
kicked by one when he was younger, he had learned his lesson well.

The
animal continued to eat, and Tarik gripped the first sword, drawing it slowly,
continuing to whisper to the animal. Successful, he handed the first weapon to
Jabari, then slowly withdrew the second. With it freed, he stepped back and
examined the weapon. It felt like a good weight, well balanced. A quality
weapon. His brother had already decided he liked his, the smile he was
displaying telling Tarik all he needed to know.

“Let’s
hurry,” said Tarik. “Perhaps we can surprise them.” He quickly led them back to
the crevice, and he stepped inside. It was tight, and after a few steps, he
prayed it opened up soon, otherwise the mild claustrophobia he suffered from
might kick in, and he’d need to be rescued.

He also
decided then and there to lay off the dates. His stomach had been slowly
expanding over the past few years, and if this was to now be his life, he would
need to get himself trim again so he could fight if necessary, and squeeze into
tight places should the need arise.

The
torch whipped in his outstretched hand, and he saw the passage open up. He
pushed himself the final few paces, then gasped in relief as he was able to
breathe normally again, the cave he now found himself in large enough to easily
fit a dozen men. He waited for the others as he caught his breath, and the
tightness in his chest eased with the appearance of each torch, shedding
additional light on the still enclosed space.

Fadil
finally appeared with Dalila, and the hollowed out space was now well lit,
though beginning to feel a bit cramped again. Tarik closed his eyes and took a
deep breath, a comforting hand on his shoulder from Jabari helping ease his
tension slightly.

“You
okay?”

Tarik
nodded at his brother’s voice, but didn’t open his eyes. “You know how I don’t
like tight spaces.”

“It will
soon be over,” said Jabari gently, and Tarik felt his brother turn to the
others. “Which way?”

“Down
here,” Tarik heard Dalila say as he opened his eyes.

“I will
go first this time,” said Jabari, leading the way down another opening in the
wall, Tarik following closely behind so he could keep an eye on his brother, or
more accurately, his back, rather than the cave walls. He knew if his brother
could fit, he most likely could as well, though his brother was blessed with a
physique that put his own to shame, life on a farm much more active than that
at a store designing jewelry on one’s backside.

Moments
later they emerged into a massive hollow, the ceiling tall enough for the
tallest ship’s mast to easily clear, the breadth wide enough for their torches
to not reach the other wall.

Tarik
smiled.

His
tension eased, completely, and he stepped aside for Dalila and Fadil.

“Where
now?” asked her husband.

Dalila
pointed at the ground. “Follow the footprints. They will lead the way.”

“How
far?”

“Not
far, a couple of hundred paces maybe.”

Jabari
continued to lead the way, his torch held out in front, but lower, his own head
hunched over, as he followed the faint prints in the dusting of sand on the
cave floor. Tarik followed, torch in his left hand, held up high, sword in the
other. As they rounded a sharp bend, he saw something move in the shadows, then
a glint of light reflecting off something, then his jaw dropped in horror as a form
merged from the dark, charging at his brother, sword held high in the air.

Tarik
yelled, kicking his brother in the ass, sending him flying forward as Tarik
thrust his sword out to prevent the attacker’s blade from opening up his
brother’s back. The two blades clashed, the shudder from the impact rippling up
the metal and into his arms, a feeling he was unused to, his practice usually
just that, the thrusts and parries from his partners weak compared to this
man’s all-out attack.

Another
yell from the darkness had Tarik spinning toward it as he stepped to his left,
covering Jabari who still lay on the ground. Fadil rushed past him on his
right, into the darkness, tossing the torch ahead of him, revealing a second
man, armed with a sword far finer that those left on the camel outside.

Tarik’s
man swung his sword at Tarik’s shoulder. Tarik raised his sword, dropping the
blade to the left, blocking the attack, then stepped forward and kicked the man
in the stomach. As he doubled over in pain, Tarik raised his sword and dropped
it, fast, cleaving the man’s head in half, the sword stuck in the bone of the
skull.

Pushing
on the man’s shoulder with his foot, he yanked the blade free as he watched
Fadil battle the second man. Jabari rushed past, torch in one hand, sword in
the other as Fadil was knocked to the ground.

“Fadil!”
yelled Tarik as he finally worked his weapon free, pushing hard against the
ground as he raced to save his youngest family member. The attacker’s blade was
coming down, hard and fast, the double handed attack leaving no chance Fadil
would survive. Fadil raised his hands, covering his head, raising his legs as
he did so in an attempt to kick at his attacker, but it was too late.

Jabari
lunged forward, his sword held out in front of him as far as his arm could
stretch as he dropped the torch, but even his blade was too far. Suddenly there
was a scream to his right, Dalila’s horror echoing through the cavern, but it
was the blur of motion that caught his eye as she pulled something from the bun
of hair atop her head. It glinted in the torchlight, then her arm whipped out,
and a heartbeat later Fadil’s attacker gasped, his swing aborted, the blade
falling atop Fadil but, the momentum gone, the man instead gripping a dagger
now embedded in his chest.

Jabari
reached the man and finished him off with a single thrust of his sword,
followed by a twist of the blade. Tarik pulled Fadil away from the collapsing
corpse, and examined his brother’s arm where the blade had fallen. It was cut,
but his brother’s tunic and heavy bracelets seemed to have absorbed much of the
blow.

Dalila
pushed him aside and quickly began to administer to her husband. Tarik stepped
back, then retrieved his torch, he and Jabari covering both sides of their
fallen brother, searching the shadows for other foes, but finding none.

“Are
these the same two men you saw when you were here before?” asked Jabari.

Dalila
looked at the nearest one. “I believe so, but it was dark.”

“And you
are certain there were only two?”

“Again,
it was dark. Perhaps there were others who had left earlier, but when I saw
them, there were only two.”

She tied
a scarf around her husband’s arm, stemming the light bleeding, then rose,
helping Fadil to his feet. Fadil retrieved his sword and Dalila carried the
torch, leading the way. They followed her through the darkness, and quickly
found themselves at an opening in the wall, several tools lying about that had
obviously been used to break through the cavern wall.

Tarik
wondered how they had known to dig here, and was about to wonder aloud, when he
saw every five paces a small hole in the wall, where it appeared a spike had
been driven, apparently to discover where the wall was hollow on the other
side. Indeed, he spotted the long spike lying to his right, discarded in the
excitement by their attackers when they had finally found an opening.

Jabari
stuck the flame inside and knelt down on one knee to look. His hand darted to
his heart, covering it as if to protect it, then he rose, looking at Tarik.

“As the
eldest, I think it is your duty to go first.”

Tarik
nodded, having no doubt there wasn’t a trace of cowardice in Jabari’s
conclusion. It
was
his duty as the eldest, and it
was
his duty
due to the fact this entire endeavor was his idea. The irony wasn’t lost on him
that if they hadn’t been watching the tomb, the necklace wouldn’t have been
stolen by Dalila, but if the necklace hadn’t been stolen, they would not have
known of the thieves who now lay dead behind them, never to plunder again.

But
thieves usually had masters, and as he crawled through the small opening and
emerged into the large burial chamber, he realized what must be done. As his
hand ran across the sarcophagus of his beloved Cleopatra, then that of her
beloved Antony, dead barely a week before she committed suicide. His chest
tightened as he imagined each of their final thoughts, filled with love and
heartbreak, two lovers as the world had never before seen, and he doubted would
again.

“We have
to move them,” he said to his brothers who stood respectfully aside. Jabari’s
jaw was the first to drop, followed by Fadil’s.

“Are you
mad? That’s sacrilege!” exclaimed Jabari.

Tarik
shook his head slowly, his hand resting on the sarcophagus of his Pharaoh. “No,
it would be sacrilege to leave it here, unprotected, where thieves could loot
it at any time.”

“But
that’s why we are guarding it!” Fadil stepped forward, then back as he came too
near Antony’s sarcophagus. “
We
will protect them!”

“But
what if something happens to us?” asked Tarik. “What if we are all killed somehow,
or what of when we get old and grey? Who will protect her then?”

Fadil
had no answer, his jaw clamped shut as his eyes sought a solution, darting
about the room uselessly. His eyes finally rested upon Jabari, it clear to
Tarik that his youngest brother hoped for some sanity from the middle-brother.

Jabari
looked at Fadil, smiling slightly, suggesting he understood Fadil’s concerns,
then stepped forward, placing his hand respectfully on Cleopatra’s sarcophagus.

“What do
you propose, brother?”

Tarik smiled
at Jabari, knowing he would see the reasoning behind his argument, then
motioned for Fadil to join them. He did, reluctantly, and he too placed a hand
on the sarcophagus. Tarik took the hand and placed it atop Jabari’s, then
placed his own on top of both.

“We, The
Brotherhood, shall move this tomb to a place of safety, known only to us, so
our beloved Pharaoh may rest in peace for eternity, and we and our children,
and our children’s children, shall stand guard over her, ensuring her security,
and the restful slumber of our Queen.”

And with
that solemn declaration, their lives changed forever, the weight of the moment
lost on none of them.

A scream
pierced the chamber, and Fadil broke their huddle first, crying out his wife’s
name as he dove for the small opening dug by the thieves. Jabari was next,
followed by Tarik, who when he emerged, gasped as he found Fadil cradling his
wife in his arms, her face pale, covered in sweat.