But none considered that the miraculous escape of the intruders had just been a trick of optics and design. Just short of the interior wall of the mountain cave, a postbox hole had been cut through to the tunnel under the floor, excavated as a fail-safe for emergencies and to allow more air into the chamber. Purdue and Adjo had simply fallen through the floor just before they reached the wall, chest and all.
Outside the exit of the tunnel, a thick brush of milkweeds covered the mouth of the sub-cavern, obscuring its existence to the eye of those who didn’t know it was there. A few meters away Purdue and Adjo could still hear some of the Ethiopians chasing after Donkor.
“Does he know where we are?” Purdue puffed, drenched in perspiration from the weighty prize he’d lugged with him.
“Yes, he knows. He helped me to construct this emergency air duct, but we have never used it as an escape route before,” Adjo smiled. “I’m quite proud of how well it worked for us.”
Purdue smiled. “As well you should be, Adjo. It’s a stroke of genius.”
From a distance they could hear a Jeep engine roaring, quickly growing louder as it headed their way.
“Come. This way,” the Egyptian told Purdue. “He will meet us at the ledge.”
“The ledge?” Purdue asked, but Adjo was too preoccupied to answer. Carrying one side of the chest, he directed Purdue where to follow by practically pulling his employer after him. They ran out over a steep hillock of weeds and loose sand, finally calming its temperatures as the day drew to a close. Around the side of the vast mountain face they dragged the artifact, slipping on large rocks that gave way under their hastening steps.
The thick, loose soil impaired their speed as they rushed to get ahead of their pursuers. Purdue's rather fit physique had met its match in the Ethiopian desert. His calves tightened and tugged at his Achilles tendons as he ascended the side of the hill. Inflamed at the exertion, his thighs screamed under the weight of his body, now exacerbated by the added force of the stolen relic.
“Good God, how far still?” he forced through panting breath as they reached a perilous ledge near the top of the mountain.
“Up ahead, Effendi. Donkor must already be waiting, which means they’re close on our heels,” Adjo huffed madly. The poor overweight man had a time of it to make it up the mountain, but he kept thinking about his reward for aiding Purdue.
“Adjo,” Purdue groaned as they carefully navigated the narrow ledge with unsure footing, “do you trust your friend Donkor not to betray us?”
“I trust him with my life, Effendi,” Adjo admitted. He looked back at Purdue with an expression dancing between a wince and a smile; a somewhat tortured happiness. “He is my little brother.”
Chapter 7
The revelation took a load off of Purdue's mind. He felt reassured by it, although blood was not always thicker than water, as his relationship with his late twin sister attested. Still, he hoped that Donkor and Adjo were closer friends than he and his sister had been.
“We wait here,” Adjo said, gently setting down his side of the box.
From beneath the ledge they could hear the engine straining up the hill. Purdue thought to call his pilot so to get ready for a lift out of Ethiopia to expedite matters. From his bottom left pocket of his utility vest he pulled his minute, streamlined tablet, which was barely larger than a match box in its store form. He let it lay on his open palm and with his other hand he brushed his index finger and thumb across the gadget, enlarging it as he did so until it was the size of a cell phone.
Bullets began to rain on them just as Purdue called up the coordinates of his position. “Down!” Adjo shouted and they both fell to their bellies. Purdue memorized the coordinates and dialed out to his pilot while covering his head with one hand, as if that would avert an R-1 round from penetrating his skull.
“Why is he shooting at us?” Purdue bellowed over the din of the attack.
“It’s not my brother, Effendi! It’s the lady you spoke to earlier today outside the tent camp! Look, it's her people!” Adjo panicked. He was worried about his brother's fate and what may have befallen him. Suddenly Adjo cried out, as two slugs ripped through his flesh, staining Purdue's clothing with Egyptian blood under the eye of the setting sun.
“Adjo! Adjo, can you hear me?” Purdue howled as the engine drew nearer. But Adjo had stopped moving.
“Sphinx-1, come in! Sphinx-1, do you copy?” Purdue wailed desperately as he watched Adjo's blood meander through the sandy mounds around his head. His own face was wet with perspiration and covered in sand, and the dust had turned his trademark white hair to brown.
Cutting the engines for a minute, Purdue could hear his hunters shout orders in Italian and Amharic. He feared that his nerves would kill him while he perked his ears for any sign that they were nearby. They would not be able to see the stolen relic, because Purdue had placed it too far in from the edge of the ledge. That was as far as anyone could observe it from the road. “Sphinx-1! Larsen, I swear to Christ, if you’re off shagging some young slut from ground staff again, I’ll kill you!” he threatened as softly as he could into the mic of the device.
Now the pursuers were quiet. So were their vehicles, leaving Purdue no way to determine where they could be. He dared not move. Either he would be detected or he would compromise his safety without Adjo's guidance.
“This is Sphinx-1,” the loud crackling voice came over the speaker of the tablet, jolting Purdue’s heart with its sudden broadcast. “Sphinx-1 copying. Go ahead.”
Purdue rapidly slammed his hand over the speaker to dampen the sound, although the damage had been done already. He whispered hard into the microphone, “Switch to silent mode. Over.”
The blue LED background of the tablet turned red to signify that all vocal communications would be sent in text format. Purdue's eyes combed the immediate vicinity before he spoke again. “Larsen, I'm in deep shit here. I’m sending you my position, but be advised of hostile fire. I repeat, hostile fire. Do you copy that?”
He waited for a few seconds before red lettering appeared on the screen. It was Larsen's voice recording coming through as a written message, something Purdue had installed on all his communication devices with his staff for just such an incident. “Roger that. On my way. ETA ten minutes. Over and out.”
Ten minutes, Purdue thought to himself. I'll be dead in five, I'm sure.
Concerned about his position, Purdue carefully inched forward. Bit by bit he progressed, still listening for voices or radio contact, wondering if his own communication had been intercepted. With the impending dark, it would become exceedingly difficult for Purdue to make it onto the helicopter without plummeting over the ledge. And transporting the wooden relic would prove nearly impossible, not because of its average weight, but because of its shape. Shaped like a short coffin, it was very difficult to carry the box by himself, but it had to be done. It had cost Adjo his life, and probably that of his brother's too. And now it had almost got him killed as well. Purdue thought leaving it behind after the price his men had had to pay to help him steal it would be ridiculous and insensitive.
He discerned Medley's voice among the audible discussions that ensued beneath him on the winding mountain road. Purdue and Medley had always been at loggerheads, but he still found it shocking that she would be chasing him with gunfire. Medley had always been more of a ‘war of the wits’ kind of competitor. It was hard to imagine her as a gun-toting tyrant, as she had apparently become. Maybe, Purdue thought, it was the influence of her mafioso husband that had turned her into a bully.