McNutt grimaced with disgust. ‘Bells? The greatest general of all time and they honored him with bells? What kind of bullshit is that? This is a guy who rode elephants into battle. You’d think they’d come up with something more manly than that. Like drums. Big-ass kettledrums, played by naked chicks in high heels. Now that’s a funeral.’
‘No,’ Sarah said, ‘that’s a strip club.’
‘Anyway,’ said Papineau, who was rarely amused by McNutt’s antics, ‘the golden hearse weighed a staggering amount. It required the combined strength of sixty-four of the legion’s sturdiest mules to transport the structure on its journey.’
‘To where?’ Cobb asked.
Jasmine answered. ‘His body was to be taken from Babylon — where he died — to Macedon, the place of his birth. Unfortunately, he never made it home. The processional was intercepted by a Macedonian general named Ptolemy Soter, who directed the hearse to the Egyptian city of Memphis. By seizing the body of the dead king, Ptolemy could legally claim rule over Egypt and the bulk of Alexander’s empire. Many years later, Ptolemy’s son, Ptolemy the Second Philadelphus, moved the remains to the north where he was entombed in the coastal city of Alexandria, a city named for the ruler himself.’
Papineau picked up from there. ‘As all of you know, the Middle East is one of the least stable geographic regions in the world and has been for several millennia. During the past two thousand years, control of Alexandria has changed hands multiple times. And not just ruler to ruler — also culture to culture. From the Greeks and the Romans to the Christians and the Arabs, the city has been built and rebuilt more times than you can possibly imagine.’
Papineau nodded to Garcia, who pushed a button on his virtual keyboard. The image on the big screen was replaced by an animated video that focused on the land around the Mediterranean Sea. A giant red dot pulsated in the sea south of Greece.
‘In July of 365 AD, a massive underwater earthquake near the island of Crete triggered a tsunami that devastated the region.’ As if on cue, the red dot erupted on the screen, sending virtual shockwaves in every direction. The camera zoomed to the south, following a path of destruction that led to the city of Alexandria. ‘On the Egyptian coast, the surging water was so powerful it hurled ships more than two miles inland. To this day, construction crews still find chunks of boats in the desert.’
The team grew silent as they watched the video.
Jasmine was particularly moved by the devastation, which reminded her of the recent tsunamis in Asia.
Papineau continued. ‘As you can imagine, the loss of life was substantial; and so was the loss of antiquities. Temples fell, buildings crumbled, and tombs were obliterated.’
He smiled as his statement lingered.
It washed over them like the tide.
Sarah caught on first. ‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying? You want us to find the tomb of Alexander the Great?’
Papineau nodded. ‘I do indeed.’
Cobb leaned back in his chair. ‘Why?’
‘Why?’ repeated Papineau, surprised by the question. ‘Because the discovery of the tomb would be a significant historical achievement, one that would bring closure to one of the greatest mysteries of our time. And if that isn’t reason enough, allow me to remind you and your team of five million other reasons.’
‘I’m not talking about our reasons,’ Cobb explained. ‘I’m talking about yours. You’re not doing this for the fame — I’m certain of that. And you have more money than you could possibly spend in ten lifetimes. So why tackle one of the greatest mysteries of the ancient world if you don’t care about the glory or the reward?’
‘The question is moot,’ Jasmine said, her tone full of frustration. ‘People have been scouring Alexandria for clues for more than a thousand years. Historians have devoted their lives to finding the lost tomb. Every myth, every angle, every hunch, has been thoroughly exhausted by the world’s best scholars, and they have found nothing. I’m telling you, there is nothing left to pursue. No new evidence. No new leads. Heck, there aren’t even any maps of the ancient city in existence. A mission like this is pointless. It would be easier for us to visit Mars.’
‘That’s not true,’ Cobb assured her.
Jasmine stood her ground. ‘Unfortunately it is true, Jack. People have been looking for the tomb for centuries, and as the only historian in the room, I can assure you—’
He cut her off. ‘I meant the part about the maps.’
‘The maps? Wait — what are you saying?’
‘I’m saying at least one map of ancient Alexandria exists.’ Cobb turned his chair and stared at Papineau. ‘Isn’t that right, Papi?’
4
Papineau was surprised by the insinuation. Confusion filled his face. He stared at Cobb, who stared right back. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Cobb set his jaw, angered that his host would rather play games than admit he knew anything about the map. ‘And if I call your friend, will he give me the same story? Will he claim that we never met, that he has no idea who I am?’
Papineau blinked rapidly. ‘My friend? Who are you talking about? Really, Jack, I’m not sure what you mean.’
Cobb had interrogated better men than Papineau. Men who had kept their composure through unbearable stress and physical ‘coaxing’, long after Cobb had lost track of the hours. Men who had taken their secrets to their graves. Papineau was an experienced liar — that much Cobb knew for certain — but he had yet to master the craft.
The flicker of emotion in his eyes gave him away.
It was genuine surprise and panic.
He honestly didn’t know what Cobb was referring to.
It was a development that Cobb hadn’t expected, but one that he was prepared to exploit nevertheless. For now, that meant playing things close to the vest about his recent trip to Switzerland and his dinner with a well-known historian.
Cobb chose his words carefully, giving Papineau as little as possible. ‘At least one map from ancient Alexandria still exists. I know this for a fact, because I’ve seen it.’
Jasmine gasped — literally gasped — with excitement. It was the type of sound rarely heard outside of a bedroom. ‘Oh my God! Do you know what this means? It means that we can— wait! Just to clarify: you’re saying you’ve actually seen a map that was created during the era itself?’
Cobb continued to study his host. ‘Yes.’
She gasped again. ‘Where? When?’
Papineau tried to remain calm, but his anxiety was palpable. He more than wanted to know the name of Cobb’s source — he needed to know.
But Cobb wasn’t ready to let him off the hook.
He liked having something that Papineau wanted.
He liked being the one in control.
Not for himself, but for the sake of his team.
Cobb addressed Jasmine. ‘Where and when is not important, but I can assure you that it meets our needs. Furthermore, I can assure you that it is authentic.’
‘Can you borrow the map?’ It was less of a question and more of a plea. ‘Or, at the very least, can I spend some time with it so I can sketch my own?’
Cobb nodded. ‘I think something like that can be arranged.’
Her eyes lit up in anticipation.
Sarah leaned forward. ‘Let me see if I got this straight. We have access to the only known map of ancient Alexandria, and somewhere in the city is a golden hearse protecting the golden coffin of a famous king?’