No sooner had they finished than they heard footsteps walking rapidly towards their tent. Hunt pointed to the entrance. Jayden moved silently to one side of it while Hunt told Maddy to lay on the ground. He found a tarp and covered her with it. Then he ran to the opposite side of the door as Jayden and waited, catching his breath, willing himself to be silent as the footsteps approached the research tent.
Hunt hand-signaled to Jayden to wait for whoever entered next to trip over the wire before making a move.
A voice said, “You get that one, I’ll check this one, here.” Then a set of footfalls receded in the opposite direction while another continued toward the research tent entrance. Hunt braced, preparing to spring. The footsteps stopped just outside the tent and Hunt saw the shadow of a pair of hands reach for the tent zipper. Jayden tensed as the unknown individual unzipped the entrance flap. When it had been opened, the first part of the intruder to enter the tent was the muzzle of an assault rifle.
Hunt made eye contact with Jayden and held a hand out. Wait.
But the intruder was being cautious, too. No one immediately rushed into the tent. Hunt watched the muzzle of the weapon swing left to right and back again, no doubt a tell as to the wielder’s gaze. Hunt could only hope he didn’t look down. But the intruder’s next steps gave him his answer.
The gunman walked straight into the tent at a brisk pace, tripping over the cord Hunt had tied at shin-height. He and Jayden sprung on their foe instantly, with Hunt grabbing the barrel of the rifle with both hands and swinging it away from them while Jayden actually fought the would-be treasure looter.
Jayden landed a right cross to the criminal’s left cheekbone, knocking him into a daze that rendered him all but harmless. But as Hunt wrestled the gun away from him, the assailant’s finger curled around the trigger, squeezing off a short burst. It shot harmlessly through the roof of the tent, but Hunt knew it would likely draw reinforcements.
He wondered how many thugs they were up against. He got low to the ground and peeked out through the tent entrance. He counted four looters — enemy combatants, as he thought of them — moving about the dig site. But he knew there were more. Some had to be inside the tents, or out of his field of vision. He checked the weapon’s magazine — it was loaded, but he preferred to have more ammo — a lot more — if he was going to go up against at least four armed criminals. So he moved to the fallen robber and searched his body while Jayden held his arms back even though he appeared to be unconscious. It could be an act.
Hunt felt the shape of ammo clips on a belt beneath the man’s shirt. He removed the belt and put it around his own waist. Now he felt better, more prepared, but still — he knew they would have to be extremely careful. These men clearly had no scruples. The penalties for artifact theft in Egypt were severe. They were risking death or life in prison in order to steal these artifacts.
His subconscious shouted the question yet again: what could be so important to make them want to do that, to give them that kind of motivation?
Hunt had no idea, but he intended to find out. But first, he and his friends had a little jam to get out of. He almost walked away from the looter after grabbing his ammo, but on second thought, decided to search the rest of his body. He was rewarded with a 9mm pistol worn on an ankle holster beneath the man’s black pants. Hunt removed that, too, and handed it to Jayden.
“How come you get the automatic?”
Hunt frowned in his direction. “Seriously?”
“Ro-sham-bo you for it.”
Hunt knew his friend was prone to moments of levity in the midst of a tense situation to break up the tension. His humor had served them well during their time in the navy, both in and out of combat zones, particularly on long transport runs to break up the monotony. But Hunt wasn’t in the mood to laugh, there was no time for that. He racked his brain for a solution to the pickle they were in. He believed the man who had said they would be shot if found inside a tent. These looters would not be prone to reason, but would be highly reactionary, far more likely to pull a trigger than to reason things out.
He considered taking the incapacitated adversary as a hostage. They could walk him at gunpoint outside of the tent and into the open, then demand their release. But Hunt couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t kill them anyway. Not every criminal organization placed a high value on the lives of their own when backed into a corner. No, it was too risky. But it was also too much of a risk to stay in the research tent. When this man didn’t come out, more would be sent to investigate, and they would be wary.
Hunt was still deliberating over these options when the amplified voice roared once again, this time from what sounded like the middle of the dig site. Hunt guessed it was about fifty feet in front of their tent entrance.
“We will give you one final warning. Step out of the tents. Anyone found inside a tent will be shot on sight. Your life is not worth protecting some old objects. Give them to us and go home to your families. Do the sensible thing.”
Hunt froze as he heard the last phrase. Do the sensible thing. Not only the words themselves, but the exact phrase in combination with that voice. He was certain he’d heard it before.
“Daedalus, is that you?” Hunt’s shouting startled Jayden, whose facial expression quickly transformed from one of shocked alarm to surprised recognition.
“Who speaks? Come forth!” Came the voice from the megaphone.
To Jayden, Hunt said in a low voice, “Looks like our old friend is back up to his old tricks.”
Chapter 7
Hunt dropped his appropriated automatic weapon just inside the tent and then raised his hands before stepping outside. Jayden’s voice trailed after him in a hushed, anxiety-ridden rasp.
“You crazy, Carter?”
But Hunt ‘s voice exuded confidence as he addressed the lead interloper. “Long time, Daedalus. What’s it been, fifteen years?”
The man Hunt addressed lowered his megaphone and spoke directly to him. “Not long enough, Carter Hunt. Not long enough.”
Hunt shook his head in a slow and exaggerated fashion. “You still at the helm of your despicable organization, the one that stole priceless artifacts from Iraqi museums during the chaos of the Iraq War?”
Daedalus nodded. “Treasure, Inc. has all the necessary permits to operate here, as we did in the middle east. Do not concern yourself with matters that do not pertain you.” He stroked the thick black stubble on his beard as he studied Hunt’s reaction, one of revulsion and disgust.
“Not only are you a thief and a criminal, Daedalus, but you’re a liar, too. You’ve never had a permit in your life. You have no respect for others and think that you’re above needing to go through any kind of permission process. You don’t fool me.”
“I guess you’ve never checked the public records at the Egyptian Ministry of Cultural Affairs.”
Hunt laughed aloud while unseen behind him, Jayden picked up the dropped automatic weapon. “Yes, applying for permits to obtain a few clay pots or amphora and then running around stealing anything in sight while claiming to be legally permitted really fools people, Daedalus.”
“Why don’t you come to work for me, Carter Hunt? You seem to have a knack for knowing where to find precious artifacts. A real history buff, yes?”
“I’d rather collect unemployment.”
Daedalus’ eyes narrowed a bit but he soon returned his expression to its normal, haughty look. For a man of indeterminate age, he was in excellent physical shape, Hunt cold see. He knew him to be of Greek heritage, but not a lot else, not that he cared. As far as he was concerned, he knew all he needed to about the man. He stole precious artifacts around the world for personal gain, under the guise of a legitimate international import-export company called Treasure, Incorporated. He’d been at it for at least twenty years, and now, with this most brazen job at the venerable great pyramid of Giza, showed no signs of letting up.