Chapter 6
A light, evening breeze brushed through Will’s hair as he knelt down on the grass just outside of Richard Firth’s home. The structure’s appearance was like many of the homes in the Garden City district of Cairo, featuring a more contemporary, elegant design. Garden City, itself, was a glaring contrast to many other areas of Cairo, especially the Islamic district.
Will had sat patiently in his car, one block from the professor’s house and watched as the gray-bearded man had arrived home from work. Apparently, Dr. Firth’s finances were in good order, considering the comfortable house and the late model Jaguar parked in the driveway.
Once Firth was inside the building, Will had made his way casually down the sidewalk amid the evening’s few pedestrians. As soon as there was a lull in foot traffic, he hopped the stucco wall into the yard just behind the house.
Normally, killing a target would have been a less hurried affair. Will preferred there to be as little chance of resistance as possible. His favorite way to execute a mark was while they slept. And there were so many ways to do it: knife, bullet, strangling, or occasionally, arson. This particular outing would most likely be messy. He didn’t have time to wait around for the professor to go to sleep. That meant he would have to be as efficient as possible and hope the man didn’t make too much of a scene.
Shouldn’t be a problem, Will thought. The old man was just a historian with no training or background in combat.
He removed the small, 9mm Glock from his jacket and attached the sound suppressor then moved towards the side door and squatted next to the steps leading into the door’s alcove. He could hear his target moving around in the kitchen, rattling pots and pans. The man was probably about to make dinner. With all the extra noise, Will would be able to enter unnoticed.
Just as he started to ascend the steps, he noticed a pair of headlights approaching a block away. He crouched back down, assuming the car would pass by harmlessly. Instead, he was surprised to see the SUV slowly come to a stop, and park on the curb just on the other side of the backyard wall.
Even when the vehicle’s engine shut off, he figured it was just a neighbor or someone coming to visit another one of the many homes in the area. When the passenger door opened, what he saw sent a confused shock through his system.
Sean Wyatt and his female friend, Adriana Villa exited the vehicle, and approached the front door of Richard Firth’s home. Will thought Wyatt had certainly been killed or incapacitated by the car explosion. But there he was, alive and well, ruining everything.
“What if he isn’t home?” Adriana asked as they walked past the sleek black Jaguar sedan.
Sean pointed at the car with his thumb. “British historian living in the nice section of Cairo? Pretty sure that’s his car,” he replied with a smirk.
She nodded. “Good point.”
They reached an unlocked wrought iron gate and made their way through it then up sandstone steps to a dark wooden door with a small, barred window near the top. Sean pushed the doorbell button and stood back.
A few moments later, a balding man, with a white rim of hair answered the doorbell. He wore a tan, tweed jacket and navy blue slacks, and brown shoes. His round glasses atop a short, thick nose and splotched face completed the picture of man who’d spent his life dedicated to the study of ancient history. He was taller than Sean had expected, standing close to 6’2’’ as best he could figure.
“Dr. Firth?” Sean asked.
“Yes,” he answered politely in a sophisticated English accent. “How may I help you?” The man looked down at Sean curiously.
“My name is Sean Wyatt. I’m with the International Archaeological Agency. We were supposed to meet with you and Tommy Schultz earlier today. May we come in?”
Firth raised an eyebrow. “You were supposed to meet me at the museum,” he seemed thoughtful for a moment. “I was running a few minutes late to our meeting. By the time I arrived, the whole area had been barricaded. Apparently, there was a terrorist bombing at one of the hotels nearby.”
“No, Sir,” Sean shook his head. “They were no terrorists. It was a deliberate attack aimed at us. Fortunately, they mistimed their little explosion, though not by much.”
The professor’s eyes grew wide. He was about to make a move to shut the door, but Adriana was quicker and braced it with her foot. “You should let us in, professor. We’re here to help you.”
His head turned from her to Sean and back to her. “Help me?”
“Professor, we really should get in the house. You’re going to have to trust us on this,” Sean insisted.
The old man appeared to consider his options for a few seconds then backed away from the door. The two entered and Sean closed the door behind, after giving a quick look up and down the street.
“What is all this about?” Firth asked with a scowl.
“We think someone might try to kill you,” Adriana said.
The blunt force of her words confused the professor. “Kill me? Have you gone mad? Who would want to kill me? I haven’t any enemies.” His voice was indignant.
“She’s right,” Sean agreed. “We have reason to believe that a group known as The Order of the Golden Dawn is sending someone after you. We need to get you out of here as soon as possible.”
Firth looked at Sean as if trying to figure out whether or not he was telling the truth. “Golden dawn?”
Sean nodded.
The older man scoffed. “They haven’t been around for nearly a hundred years.”
“I know,” Sean replied. “But they’re back. And they’re after something big. Apparently, they’re looking for an ancient treasure related to the four chambers of Akhanan. Up until earlier today, we were ahead of them. Now, they may have caught up.”
Firth shook his head in disbelief, still stuck on the part where someone was coming to murder him. “I don’t understand. Why would anyone come after me?”
“As far as we know, you are one of the few people who can translate this,” Sean pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket, and handed it to Firth.
The professor reluctantly took the sheet, clearly suspicious. “What is this?” he asked and started moving slowly towards the living room. He stopped under a row of track lights pushed the spectacles up his nose a little further.
“It’s a copy of the stone we found in Ecuador. We were going to meet with you to see if you could decipher the inscription on the back.”
Firth nodded slowly. “This is a very ancient form of writing,” he said quietly. “I’ve only ever seen anything like this once or twice in my entire life.” His voice was full of awe. Then he turned to face Sean. “Where did you say you found this?”
“Ecuador. A few weeks ago.”
Sean and Adriana had followed their host into the living room and were standing a few feet away.
“Ecuador?” the man asked. “You’re sure?”
Sean grinned and snorted a quick laugh. “Pretty sure. I was there when we found it.”
The professor shook his head quickly, trying to process what he’d just heard. “That makes no sense,” he began. “These writings come from a very ancient culture. They have only ever been found in two locations.”
“Where?” Sean pressed in closer.
Firth shrugged. “Well, one of them is an Egyptian temple, but it is a day’s journey by train. That whole place is an enigma. There are a lot of strange writings and hieroglyphs there. It’s unlike anything else we have unearthed, thus far, in this ancient land. Not surprisingly, it is the location of some of the oldest artifacts that have ever been discovered in the region.”