The Last Chamber (9 page)

“Do you three know what treasure awaits in the final chamber?” he
asked after several moments of consideration.

Sean and Adriana glanced at each other before Sean spoke up again.
“The clues suggest that the tree of life is there, though, I am skeptical at
best on that. However, if there really is some kind of fountain of youth-type
thing there, we cannot let Lindsey get to it.”

“And why not?” Jabez raised an eyebrow. For a guy with no gun in a
gunfight, he was pressing his luck as far as he could.

“Because anyone who is that desperate, calculating, and cold blooded,
cannot have righteous intentions for something so powerful. And like you said,
immortality is for the righteous.”

“And you do not wish to be immortal?” he asked boldly while taking a
step forward. His loose black clothes ruffled around him dramatically.

“No,” Sean shook his head, grinning to one corner of his mouth. “I
don’t think I want to be around forever in this old world. And I’m definitely
not righteous. I’m a sinner.”

They were lost without the clue to the next marker. But it seemed like
the mysterious stranger could help. He knew where Lindsey was headed. Even
though the stranger had given up that little tidbit, Sean had a feeling there
was something he was keeping back. Sean decided to take one more leap of faith.
He flipped the gun around in his hand and gripped it by the barrel then slowly
extended it out to the Arab.

Jabez nodded slowly as he reached out and grasped the weapon. “Your
trust has earned my allegiance, Sean Wyatt. I will honor that trust. Your eyes
are honest. I believe that you do not seek the treasure for selfish gain. You
have my gun, and my sword.” He bowed deeply in a dramatic gesture.

Firth’s mouth was agape. “You mean you’re going to trust this…this
man, who moments ago, was going to kill us and leave us for dead in this…this
tomb?”

Sean twisted his head around. “Oh, hey, Doc. I honestly forgot you
were there for a second. And it isn’t a tomb. No one was actually ever buried
here.”

The sarcastic comment cut the tension with the other two, but only
served to rile the professor. He pulled Sean close by the sleeve of his shirt
and lowered his voice. “How do you know you can trust him?”

Sean was still grinning the mischievous smile that made his cheeks
dimple on both sides. “I can’t, Doc.” He slapped the professor on the back.

A few minutes later, the group was trudging back through the darkness
of the tunnel, the only light was the spotty glow that came from the
flashlights. For the first few minutes, no one said anything. Dr. Abdulkarim
seemed to feel particularly awkward. Sean had given him a cold glance when
they’d climbed back up the ladder to where the man had waited.

“So, are you one of them?” Sean had asked the portly, dark-skinned
man. He didn’t try to hide the fact that he was annoyed by the betrayal from
earlier.

“No,” he shook his head and continued pressing forward through the
darkness. “I am a friend to their cause,” he replied. “The Brethren are very
influential. Their connections help get me permits to do excavations in place I
normally wouldn’t be allowed. In short, they help eliminate the red tape that
usually surrounds my line of research.”

“And all you have to do is call them whenever you find something or
someone goes snooping where they aren’t supposed to,” Sean’s words carried a
snicker of derision.

In truth, he wished more of the world’s decent archaeologists could be
afforded similar luxuries. It was something he’d grown tired of during his time
with IAA. There were several things he’d grown tired of, the more he thought
about it. He had been hoping to have a job where he got to travel, study
ancient cultures, and use some of his less-violent skill sets. But he had found
that travel seemed overrated. There were no real free moments for him to get
out into the communities and dig into the local cultures. It had become a
routine, just like anything else. Except for the last few months.

Being shot at and nearly killed on several occasions were just the
kinds of stress Sean was trying to get away from when he left the agency. The
more he thought about it, the more he considered telling Tommy what he’d been
planning.

No one knew about his little retirement scheme. At the moment, it was
rattling around in his head like a pinball. He’d purchased two pieces of land,
one in the mountains near the Tennessee/North Carolina border, and the other a
few miles east of the busy beach town of Destin, Florida. The cabin in the
mountains would be finished within the next few weeks. But the bungalow in
Florida was already completed. It was within walking distance to the beach, and
in a small area where traffic was low, and tourists were non-existent.

He’d thought about different things he could do to keep busy. While
there were several surf shops around the region, he found there were
surprisingly few paddleboard and sea kayak shops. Kayaking had been something
he’d had a vague interest in for a while. But once he’d gotten out onto a lake
and tried it, he was ready for more. The plan had started formulating in his
mind to open up a kayaking shop that also had paddle boards. Making money
wasn’t the point. He’d saved up enough over the years to live on the rest of
his life. He just wanted to get away yet still have something to occupy his
time.

A draft of air blew into the passageway, forecasting that the group
had nearly reached ground level. A beam of sunlight poured into the entry
chamber through the portal in the front, illuminating one portion of the
chiseled wall on the other side. When they exited the ruins, each member of the
party was forced to shield their faces from the bright Egyptian sun. After a
few minutes, their eyes began to adjust. Sean looked around at a group of men
dressed similarly to Jabez, all surrounding them in a semi-circle. Each man
held a black, sub-machine gun. Instinctively, Sean put his hands up as the men
in black clothing came into focus. Adriana and Firth did the same as their eyes
began to clear up.

“Jabez, I thought we had a deal,” Sean said. He noticed his driver,
Sahid, sitting on a chair nearby, being watched by another one of the brethren.

The young Arab seemed terrified. Sean had seen that look on a lot of
faces the first time they’d had a gun pointed at them. He wondered what his own
face had looked like on his initial experience.

Jabez turned around and ordered the men in to lower their weapons in
something that closely resembled Arabic. They did as he commanded then he spoke
a few more words. Seconds later, they were hurriedly loading up into
tan-colored Range Rovers. The two who had been guarding Sahid also ran off to
one of the nearby vehicles, leaving their captive confused and somewhat
bewildered. The leader of the strange group walked over to a thick, mustached
man who stood next to one of the vehicles. They exchanged words for a minute,
ending with Jabez giving a few quick nods.

He stalked back over to where Sean and the others were standing.
Firth’s arms were crossed, clearly annoyed with whatever was going on. Adriana
seemed to be a little more patient, standing with one hand on a hip. A few of
the men in the trucks were staring at her with wide eyes. She was probably the
first woman the men had seen in a while, assuming they were nomads of some
type. Though, it was possible they had wives somewhere, and they just weren’t
used to seeing a woman not being covered from head to toe.

“My men said that the ones you spoke of are on their way back to
Cairo. We have three cars in pursuit. The clue will be in our possession before
nightfall.” Jabez’s confidence was genuine.

But Sean had a feeling it wouldn’t be so easy. “I hope you’re right,”
he warned. “Lindsey has surrounded himself with a group of mercenaries who follow
him religiously. They even call him The Prophet.”

“And why do they call him that?” Jabez scoffed.

“I don’t know. I guess they think he’s some kind of a religious guru.
All I’m saying is your men should be careful. I’ve come face to face with some
of his group. Taking him down won’t be easy. And these mercenaries are like
weeds. You pull one and three more pop up.”

“My men can handle themselves.”

“Fair enough. Still, I think we’d both feel a lot better if we were on
a plane headed to Turkey.”

Jabez nodded and turned, heading back to one of the Range Rovers. Sean
motioned to Sahid and the young Middle Easterner bounced up out of his chair
and jogged over to one of the big tents. A few moments later, he and the others
from Sean’s convoy appeared through the flaps of the tent in the blinding
sunlight, and began loading up their vehicles. Sean cast an apologetic glance
at Sahid as the young man headed towards him.

“I didn’t sign up for this,” Sahid complained in a whiny, heavily
accented voice.

“I know,” Sean held his hands up in a pleading manner. “I didn’t think
any of this was going to happen.”

“Your company pays us well, Mr. Wyatt. But we are going back to Cairo.
No amount of money is worth dying for.”

Sahid turned around and stormed off, headed towards the SUVs that had
brought them over from the Luxor train station. Jabez twisted his head with a
smug grin on his face.

“Need a ride back to Cairo, my friend?”

Sean gave a questioning look to Adriana and Professor Firth before
answering. “Seems that way.”

“Not to worry,” Jabez had a playful glimmer in his eyes, a strange
site for such a hardened exterior. “I know a way we can make up for lost time.”

Egyptian Desert

Will woke up to a searing bright light. His face felt warm, telling
him the sun was the cause of the brightness. He ached in several places,
particularly on the side of his head where a constant pounding was taking
place. He grimaced as he tried to sit up. The surface underneath him was hard.
He realized he lying on a mixture of dirt, sand, and rocks. His vision was
blurred, at first, and he wondered how long he’d been unconscious. Fifteen feet
beyond his feet, train tracks stretched out for miles in two directions. It was
then he began to recall the events of the previous night.

His thoughts jumped to the man who’d pulled the trigger. The
scruffy-faced blonde had been lucky.
Why had Wyatt been up at that time of night on the
train?
Will guessed Sean likely had problems sleeping. It was one thing
they must have had in common. Will hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in years,
and he figured his enemy was probably wired the same way. Thoughts of sleep
caused his eyes to get groggy again. Irrational ideas began seeping into his
mind.
Just lie
(should this be lie?) down over by those rocks and rest for a bit.
He shook
his head, forcing himself to sit up a little more. Sean Wyatt had gotten the
better of him. He couldn’t let that happen again.

His plan had been to enter the train car where Wyatt and his friends
were sleeping, and execute each one with a toxin that stops the heart. It would
have been simple enough. A quick injection into the neck and the victim would
be dead before they could feel the prick of the needle. He wouldn’t have even
had to dispose of the bodies. Will could have simply gotten off the train at
Luxor and met up with The Prophet. Instead, it had been his body that rolled
onto the rocky sand in south Egypt. He counted himself fortunate to be alive.

The thought reminded him of the round that Wyatt had fired, reminding
him of the terrible soreness on the right side of his chest. He pulled a cell
phone out of his inner jacket pocket. The device had been equipped with a
titanium case, and was nearly indestructible. A bullet from Wyatt’s gun had
disproved that, putting a huge dent through the back of the case. The phone
would be useless. But it had saved his life. Will stared reflectively at the
warped bullet imbedded in the keypad then tossed the device in the dirt.

He leaned over on one knee and tried to push himself onto his feet. He
wavered for a few seconds, the world spinning around him suddenly. He got back
down on his knees again to let everything settle before attempting to stand.
His head continued to throb, and he felt a large bump on the side of it, just
an inch away from his temple. There was a little blood, but nothing
life-threatening. He must have hit a rock on the tumble out of the train, which
also explained the dizziness.

Will knew he had to regain his senses, and find a way to contact his
employer. The Prophet was, no doubt, expecting his report, and knowing Lindsey,
the old man had probably called several times throughout the day.

He glanced down at his Bulgari watch to check the time. Many people
didn’t even wear watches anymore. They simply went by the time on their phones.
Will had always felt a connection to some of the more old fashioned ways, in
some regards. At present, he was thankful for that, otherwise he would have no
clue as to what time of day it was. The hands on the watch face claimed it was
a little after noon. He’d been out for a long time.

Beyond the train tracks, he noticed a car speeding along in the
distance.
 
A road.
He doubted there would be a lot
of traffic on the lonely desert highway, but someone would come along sooner or
later. His eyes searched the warm earth as he found the strength to stand up
straight. His coordination had finally returned, and the spinning had stopped.
A few feet away, he found what he was looking for. It was a rock, just the
right size to hide in his jacket. He wondered if it was the culprit responsible
for his incredible headache.

Will removed his windbreaker and reached down for the stone then
wrapped it up in the fabric. He headed for the road several hundred yards away.
His hand involuntarily clutched his chest where the bullet had struck. It was
possible he had a cracked rib, at best a bad bruise. His knee was a little
tight. He’d probably hit it on something on the way down.
 
But he didn’t have time to think about
diagnoses. He had to catch a ride.

Which
direction, though?
He considered
the problem as he slowly made his way towards the stretch of highway. If
Lindsey and his lackey Frenchman had been able to secure the clue they sought,
they would no doubt be headed back to Cairo. The Prophet’s private plane was
still there and they would need to take it to wherever they were headed next.

However, Will had failed in his mission to eliminate Wyatt and his
friends. If the IAA agent had arrived while Lindsey was still investigating the
site, everything could have gone haywire.

Will shrugged off the thought. He reminded himself that The Prophet’s
mission was doing the will of God: to cleanse the earth of the wicked. And some
former government agent turned treasure hunter couldn’t stand in the way of
that.

As he neared the highway, he saw a beat up Honda hatchback rolling his
way. The gray car was old, but it would do the job. He limped hurriedly,
covering the last fifty yards as quickly as possible. He reached the asphalt
with a few seconds to spare and stood in the middle of the lane to wave down
the driver. Will put on the most helpless expression possible, and attempted to
look desperate.

The car rolled to a stop; Will hobbled over to the driver’s side. An
older, middle-eastern man with thinning gray hair and sporadic facial hair
rolled down the window. His skin seemed to be hanging off his facial bones. He
looked up at Will, but said nothing.

“Thank you so much for stopping,” Will smiled as meekly as possible.
Even in his weakened condition, Will knew the man wouldn’t be much of a
struggle.

The driver must not have spoken English, but pointed to the
passenger’s seat: a ragged, torn upholstery with one of those beaded cushions
over top of it. Will grabbed the door handle, holding the concealed rock in the
other hand. His smile turned to a wicked grin. The man’s dead eyes just stared
back at him, unaware of what was about to happen.

“No,” Will shook his head. “If you don’t mind, I think I’ll drive.”