They stepped into the burial chamber. Holliday and Rafi stopped in their tracks as Alhazred shone the beam of the spotlight around the room. In the center of the chamber was an enormous stone sarcophagus, obviously quarried from the living rock. The lid of the giant coffin leaned against its side.
The sides of the ossuary were carved with images of the old gods: crocodile-headed Ammit; cat-headed Bast and Khefy, the Scarab King, god of the Dawn. There was winged Isis, keeper of the Dead; Maahes, the Lion Prince, son of Bast and Selket, the Scorpion Queen. Wepwawet, the Jackal god. Munevis, the Sacred Bull. Horus, son of Isis, the falcon-headed god, and finally Ra, the Sun and the Creator of life, the greatest god of all. Each of them was there, carved in stone or drawn in vivid colors on the walls, looking as though they had been painted only yesterday.
The entire wall at the head of the sarcophagus was given over to a single large fresco of a ship, double-ended with high prow and stern, powered by three huge sails and a hundred oars of gold. A single figure, much larger than the others, carrying a clay tablet in one hand and an odd-looking crossed stick in the other, stood at the bow of the ship, hands upraised like an ancient priest giving blessings to his flock.
The ship had been depicted at the mouth of some great river, perhaps the Nile, the banks thick with tall evergreens, the shoreline populated with people wearing light kilts, their upper bodies bare, their hair long, their arms and chests tattooed, all seeming to worship the man in the ship. Above the scene a stylized sun with a single beam of light looked down, the beam piercing the raised right hand of the priest figure.
"It is my opinion that the painting depicts Imhotep's mystical voyage to the land of Punt. The evergreen trees suggest that Punt was actually in Lebanon, the source of much of the cedar used by the ancient Egyptians."
Alhazred swung the spotlight beam toward the foot of the massive coffin and suddenly everything exploded in a soft buttery yellow glow. Holliday and Rafi found themselves staring at a two-and-a-half-foot-thick and ten-foot-long wall of solid gold, gleaming like the greedy dream of some long-ago King Midas.
"Four tons of gold," said Alhazred. "It took us three months to get it here." Again there was pride in his voice. He walked across the room to the enormous pile of bullion. He stared at it in the light from the lantern, the reflected light glittering in his eyes. Holliday was more interested in the sarcophagus. He crossed to it and looked, then stared up at the painting of the ship on the wall.
"I thought you wanted to ask me a question," said Rafi, moving partway across the burial chamber.
Alhazred looked at his wristwatch.
"Perhaps some other time," said the Lebanese man. "It's getting late."
"Where's his body?" Holliday asked.
Alhazred turned.
"Removed for safekeeping," he said.
"I would have thought it would be safe enough here," answered Holliday.
"Not once the sarcophagus was opened," answered Alhazred.
"Did the mummy have a gold death mask like Tutankhamen's?" Holliday asked.
"Yes, as a matter of fact he did," said Alhazred. Holliday saw that his face was flushing, either from embarrassment or anger. "In point of fact the entire inner coffin was sheathed in gold."
"Like the doors," said Holliday, smiling.
"Yes," answered Alhazred tersely. "Like the doors."
"Presumably the inner coffin was removed for safekeeping," said Holliday, his voice bland.
"Yes," said Alhazred, his teeth gritted. "I think we should be on our way," he added.
"Whatever you say," said Holliday brightly. "Come on, Rafi, our captor the archaeologist thinks it's time to go."
Rafi nodded, although it was clear from the look on his face that he could have stayed in the ancient tomb for hours more. They went back the way they'd come, Alhazred behind them, going back through the antechamber to the burial room and along the narrow corridor, their footsteps ringing on the rough-quarried stone at their feet. They climbed the shallow steps to the bottom of the shaft, then went up the creaking ladder to the interior of the beehive enclosure.
Holliday and Rafi scuttled out of the tomb under Alhazred's watchful eye and stood up in the dying light of the sun. It was dusk, and getting cooler, although the heat was still enough to make them gasp after the chill of the stone below-ground. Alhazred appeared and he and Elhadji carefully replaced the trapdoor, rubbing a final layer of sand into the cracks around the edges to disguise the hidden entrance.
They drove back to the camp in silence. Holliday couldn't believe what he'd discovered. If anything the implications were even more important and shattering than his discovery of the Templar treasure the year before, but this was certainly no time to discuss it with Rafi.
They arrived back at the camp just as darkness fell. Alhazred let them out of the 4?4 in front of their tent.
"I thought perhaps that I would have you to my quarters for dinner tonight so we could discuss what you saw today, but I have changed my mind." He nodded curtly to the two men. "Perhaps we will see each other sometime tomorrow and talk about your friend Peggy."
Alhazred put the truck in gear and drove off. Holliday and Rafi ducked into the tent.
"He's a phony, isn't he?" Rafi said.
"Absolutely," Holliday said and nodded. "A total fraud."
Then they heard the helicopters.
17
They made a sound like the hesitant whispering of giant metronomes, a double chattering roar dropping out of the darkening sky like a flight of monstrous steel locusts. From the multiple rotor sounds there were at least four of them. Even without seeing the choppers Holliday knew they were big, most likely Sikorsky S-92s or Italian-made Augusta Merlins.
"What the hell is going on?" Rafi yelled, raising his voice above the screaming thunder.
"The camp is under attack!" answered Holliday. Four helicopters that size could transport almost a hundred men in total, more than enough to take on the Tuaregs.
Holliday headed for the entrance to the tent. Before he could reach it, a man appeared in black combat BDUs, a black balaclava covering his face and a short-barreled MP5 machine gun in his hand. He had an automatic pistol in a quick-release holster on his right thigh, a gigantic combat knife in a Velcro sheath on his left leg and lightweight body armor on his chest. As he burst through the tent flap he raised the MP5. Holliday pretended it was the Army- Navy game and drop-kicked the commando between the legs.
The man screamed and staggered, the machine gun stitching a line of bullet holes across the camel-skin ceiling. Holliday kicked the commando a second time, just as hard, and the man toppled backward. Barely pausing, Holliday dropped with one leg bent, smashing the fallen man with his knee, crushing his nose. Holliday then reached down, swept the commando knife from its breakaway sheath and plunged it between the commando's chin and the top edge of his body armor, bringing the serrated blade across both carotid arteries and the windpipe. Blood fountained, splashing the front of Holliday's shirt. The commando made a sound like air being let out of a bicycle tire and died.
Rafi stared at the carnage, mouth gaping open, eyes wide. Holliday grabbed the MP5, then ripped open the quick-release holster on the dead man's thigh. A brand-new Beretta M9, the military version of their standard 9mm automatic. He pulled back the slide and tossed it to Rafi. The young Israeli looked as though he had a poisonous snake in his hand.
"Point and shoot," said Holliday. "Safety's on the left. You know it's on when you see the little red button, just like now. Flip it down and shoot anyone who looks at you wrong. Understand?"
Rafi nodded mutely.
There was a ripping sound behind them. Holliday and Rafi both turned. Like something out of an old Western film a blade appeared in the side of the tent and ripped downward. Unbidden, Rafi raised the big black automatic pistol and Holliday saw his thumb flip down the safety. A face appeared. Holliday expected to see another balaclava-wearing commando. Instead the face was that of Emil Abdul Tidyman, the traitorous smuggler.