The Forbidden Tomb (45 page)

Jasmine should have been frightened by the question.

After all, she had assumed that the person lying in the corner was a corpse. Not only did he smell like a corpse, but he looked like one, too, in the gloom of the dungeon.

Presented with evidence to the contrary, she didn’t know whether to appreciate the company or to fear his presence. Ultimately, her instincts took over and she decided to run to his aid. Or at least she tried to. When the slack pulled taut on her chain, the shackle grabbed her ankle and she crashed clumsily to the floor.

‘Shit!’ she said under her breath.

Despite his condition, the withered old man crawled toward the middle of the room to see if she had hurt herself during her fall. ‘Are you . . . okay?’

Jasmine sat up and smiled. ‘I’m fine. Are
you
okay?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said between labored breaths. ‘I feel . . . strange.’

She knew the sensation. She had felt the same way when she had awoken from her drug-induced slumber. She knew that he was probably suffering from blurred vision, muscle aches, and severe confusion.

‘It will go away,’ she assured him. She grabbed his wrist to check his pulse; it was slow, but strong. His breathing was similarly steady and deep. ‘You’re going to be fine. Just give it time.’

He stared at her with confusion in his eyes. ‘Who are you?’

‘My name is Jasmine.’

‘Kaleem,’ he said as he closed his eyes and lay on the stone floor. His head was still spinning from the drugs. ‘Jasmine, what day is it?’

‘Good question,’ she said with a laugh. Despite their situation, she was trying to stay positive for his sake. ‘If I had to guess, I’d say it’s the fourth of the month. Or maybe the fifth. I’m not sure how long I was unconscious.’

He shook his head in dismay. ‘May fifth? Has it really been twenty-some days?’

His comment roared through her mind like a freight train. The unavoidable truth forced a lump into her throat: it was November, not May. She stared down at him, temporarily unable to speak out of both concern and pity.

To him, he had survived twenty-some days.

In reality, it had been twenty-some
weeks
.

As hard as it was, he needed to hear the truth.

She grabbed his hand tightly. It was a desperate act of comfort that wouldn’t offset the news she was about to deliver. But at that moment it was the only thing she could offer. ‘I need to tell you something, and it’s going to hurt.’

Kaleem grimaced in anticipation.

‘Spring has passed. We’re well into fall.’

It was the gentlest way she could think of to convey the news.

Tears flooded his eyes as he groaned in pain. Then his body went limp, as if all hope had been sucked out of him. ‘God, just let me die.’

She squeezed his hand. ‘Don’t say that. You’ve survived this long. You’re not going to die in here. My friends are coming to get me. I promise.’

He did not reply. He merely lay there and cried.

Jasmine knew that she needed to do something to bring his mood back around – a distraction of some kind. She decided to engage him in conversation.

‘Tell me about yourself. How did you get here?’

Several seconds passed before the question sank in. When it did, he wiped the tears from his face and began to speak. ‘I was . . . I
am
an expert in Egyptian history. I traveled here from Greece as part of an expedition.’ He stared blankly at the light above, as if the memories were not readily available. ‘We were investigating rumors about Alexander’s tomb. We set up a campsite in the valley and started to dig.’

‘Did you find anything?’

He glanced at her. ‘An entire village buried beneath the sand. It was remarkable. But before we had a chance to excavate the site, they came in the night.’

‘They? Who are they?’

‘Hooded men in black tunics. They stormed our camp after sunset, wielding ancient swords. We tried to fight back, but they were too strong. The bodies of the others were dragged into the desert . . . For some reason, I was kept alive.’

Jasmine was familiar with the incident. As a fellow historian, she kept her ears tuned to reports of any developments in her field – good or bad. ‘Your expedition made the news. When your team failed to return, the authorities were sent to find you. They spent days searching the desert.’

‘Did they find anyone?’

She shook her head. ‘All they found was your camp. Everyone was presumed dead. And as far as I remember, there was no mention of an archaeological find.’

He sighed. ‘The desert hides its secrets quickly.’

Jasmine knew her next question would sound indelicate, but she also knew it had to be asked. After all, her life was at stake too. ‘I hate to ask you this – I really do – but do you have any idea why they spared your life?’

He shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know. Sometimes I wish they hadn’t.’

‘Have they questioned you?’

‘Repeatedly,’ he answered. ‘And I have told them everything that I know. I was merely there to interpret our discoveries. I was not the team leader.’

Jasmine nodded. ‘I know the feeling.’

He looked at her. ‘What do you mean?’

‘My story is similar,’ she explained. ‘Just like you, the whole reason I was in Egypt was to put my team’s discoveries into the proper historical context. And just like you, we were also looking for Alexander.’

‘In which part of the desert?’

‘We weren’t in the desert. We were in Alexandria.’

Kaleem grimaced. ‘My dear, Alexandria has been picked clean. They even have a name for those that search there. They are known as the Fools of Alexander.’

She nodded. ‘Trust me, I know. I’m very well aware of the reputation. But what if I told you that the fools weren’t so foolish after all?’

‘Are you saying that you found Alexander?’

Jasmine smiled. ‘Not Alexander, no. But we may have found a clue that no one else has seen. We were exploring the tunnels under the city when we came across a wall covered in ancient carvings. It implied that Alexander’s body had been moved long ago.’

‘Are you surprised by this message? Because I, for one, am not. Alexander’s whereabouts have been unknown for centuries. It only stands to reason that his body has been transported elsewhere. The question is not
if
he was moved. It is when? And where? And how?’

‘That’s three questions.’

Kaleem smiled. ‘Yes, I guess it is.’

Jasmine realized that saying anything more would come dangerously close to revealing the secrets that her team had worked hard to uncover, but she thought it was worth the risk. If their captors had interrogated Kaleem, he would know what type of information they were seeking.

She lowered her voice to a whisper. ‘What if I told you that I could answer two of those questions?’

A look of hope spread across his face.

In case of emergencies, Manjani had memorized a wide variety of escape routes from Amorgos. He knew the schedule of every ferry with service from Katapola and the northern port of Aegiali. He also had the names of a few local fishermen who would be more than willing to take him from the island for the proper compensation.

And yet none of those was good enough for Cobb.

Not with so much at stake.

With a single call to Papineau, he arranged for a seaplane to pick them up near the harbor and whisk them back toward Alexandria. Five hours later, they were touching down in the blue water several miles from the Egyptian coast, where McNutt and the speedboat greeted them. Tired from their journey, few words were spoken until they reached the yacht.

Manjani stared at the vessel in total disbelief. He was used to canvas tents and broken cots, not multimillion-dollar boats. ‘This is your base of operations?’

Cobb nodded. ‘Make yourself at home.’

As they crossed the aft deck Papineau stepped out from the lower lounge to greet them. He was anxious to hear Manjani’s take on things, but he didn’t want to pepper him with questions just yet. ‘I trust the arrangements were satisfactory?’

Sarah nodded. ‘I have to give you credit: you’re one hell of a travel agent.’

‘Thank you, my dear. I’m glad you approved.’

Cobb patted him on the shoulder. ‘She’s right. Nice work.’

Papineau smiled. ‘For once, it seems I have done something right. Perhaps the tide is turning, and there are clearer seas ahead.’

‘Let’s hope,’ Cobb said with a shrug. ‘In the meantime, I need to hit the head. How does the command center in ten minutes sound?’

‘Ten minutes is fine, but let’s meet in the lounge instead. I think that would be better for Hector.’

Cobb grimaced. He sensed something was wrong.

Before Cobb had a chance to find out, Papineau extended his hand toward their guest. ‘Dr Manjani, I presume? I am your host, Jean-Marc Papineau. It’s good to have you aboard. Please let me know if I can do anything to make your stay more comfortable.’

Manjani noticed Papineau’s designer suit and guessed that it cost more than the cottage on Amorgos. ‘Thank you. I appreciate the hospitality.’

Papineau smiled warmly. ‘Josh, would you please show Dr Manjani to the lounge? I need to have a quick word with Jack before we start our briefing.’

‘No problem,’ said McNutt as he took Manjani’s elbow and led him inside. ‘Hey, are you really a doctor? Because I have this rash on my thigh that won’t go away. I can take off my pants, if you’d like.’

Cobb rolled his eyes but let it pass. For the time being, he was more interested in what Papineau had to say about Garcia than Manjani’s response to McNutt. ‘So, what’s going on with Hector?’

‘I’m afraid he’s rather agitated,’ Papineau answered.

‘That time of the month?’ Sarah asked.

Papineau ignored the wisecrack. ‘He’s having a few issues with the star map that you asked him to analyze. He can’t come up with a solution, and he feels like he’s letting us down – particularly Jasmine. Right now, he’s a bit of an emotional wreck.’

Cobb appreciated the insight. ‘Is it really that bad?’

‘I’m afraid it is. I fear he’s close to his breaking point.’

Sarah patted Papineau on the back and reassured him. ‘Don’t worry, Papi. It will be all right. We’ll take it easy on him. I promise.’

* * *

Ten minutes later, Sarah wanted to scratch Garcia’s eyes out. ‘We did the hard part! We found the goddamn map! All you have to do is math!’

Garcia yelled back. ‘For the last time: I can’t figure out the equation if I don’t have all the variables! It’s impossible! It can’t be done!’

‘Then tell me what you’re missing so we can figure this out!’

‘It’s not just one thing, Sarah! There are just too many factors involved!’

Cobb heard the commotion and hustled into the lounge. He found McNutt, Manjani, and Papineau standing in the back, watching the fight from afar. None of them was tempted to intervene. In fact, McNutt was eating a sandwich.

Cobb knew they didn’t have time for arguments, not at this stage of the game. So he ordered the two combatants to shut the hell up and sit the fuck down at the center table. Then he sat on the chair between them to put a stop to their squabbling.

‘Hector,’ Cobb said, ‘Dr Manjani is here to help you solve the problem. Ask him whatever you need to ask. Hopefully he can fill in some of the gaps.’

Manjani tentatively approached the table.

Garcia took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. ‘Doctor, I’m not challenging your assertion of a star map. I’m really not. Based on my comparisons with current charts, I agree that the markings on the dome correspond to visible stars in the nighttime sky. But my question is this: are you sure that the map is meant to point to some specific location? Is there a chance we’re reading too much into it?’

‘I believe the map will tell us where to go,’ Manjani answered as he settled into a chair. ‘The ancient priests spent their lives studying the sky above them, and their understanding of celestial bodies was truly remarkable. Not only were they able to use the stars to navigate through the barren desert, but they actually constructed many of their temples in accordance with astronomic phenomena.’

Papineau was familiar with the concept. ‘For instance, the pyramids in Giza correlate to the stars in Orion’s belt. Their size, their spacing, their alignment, all mimic what was seen in the heavens.’

Manjani nodded. ‘That’s nothing compared to the Temple of Amun in Karnak. It was built along the precise rise of the midwinter sun. It is only during that period that the structure is fully illuminated. At all other times, the angles of the inner walls prevent the light from penetrating deep into the temple.’

‘What’s your point?’ Garcia demanded.

Manjani smiled in return. As a college professor, he was used to highly intelligent students with anxiety issues. He knew the best way to calm them down was to relate to them in simple terms. ‘Tell me, are you familiar with Indiana Jones?’

Garcia grinned at the mention of one of his favorite fictional characters. ‘Of course I am. He’s the whole reason I learned how to use a bullwhip.’

‘Kinky,’ Sarah muttered under her breath.

Manjani ignored her comment and continued. ‘Remember the scene in
Raiders of the Lost Ark
where Indy used a wooden staff and a special jewel to create a shaft of light that showed him where to dig?’

‘Great scene. One of my favorites.’

‘Mine, too,’ said McNutt as he rushed forward. ‘Please tell me that we’re looking for the Well of Souls. If so, I know how to deal with the snakes.
Napalm
.’

Manjani laughed. ‘Sorry to disappoint you, but the Well of Souls was discovered a long time ago. Furthermore, it’s located in the depths of Jerusalem,
not
Tanis, Egypt, but that’s beside the point. The main thing to remember is that the scene with the beam of light was based on real archaeological evidence.’

‘Really?’ Garcia asked.

Manjani nodded. ‘For instance, the Serapeum in Alexandria, which is quite near the grotto, was constructed so precisely that it did not even require a jewel. The temple was designed in such a way that the structure itself would focus a beam of sunlight into an inner chamber and onto the statue of the god Serapis as a way to honor him.’