“Beneath the
“Yes, okay,” Baahir replied, nodding to no one as he hurried.
Baahir turned and looked back down the hill just as a third gunshot startled him. It was much quieter than the others — only a subtle
The emergency operator repeated herself, speaking direct and slow. “
Baahir pulled his attention off the excavation, spotting his SUV up ahead. He rushed towards it. “Sorry… Yes. His name is Fahim Rahal.”
The only sound in the chamber was the whimpering cries of a dying man. Ghazzi’s stomach wound would eventually kill him, but it was going to be a slow and agonizing death. The larger man, Abbas, had gone down with a single shot to the back of the head. Rahal had first broken Abbas’ nose, and then he swiftly hip tossed the foreman to the ground. It was all over after that.
The agent sat in a catcher’s squat, balancing on the balls of his feet. He nonchalantly wiped his sweaty face with a handkerchief while watching Ghazzi suffer. His plan was to interrogate — possibly even torture — Dr. Hassan for information. Rahal and his people knew everything there was to know about Anubis, but Hassan was smart. It couldn’t hurt to see if Hassan had said anything of note to add.
Ghazzi had the gall to smile.
“What’s so funny?” Rahal asked.
The digger’s words were slow and wet. “You seem… to be… missing something.”
Rahal’s eyes went wide, and he leaped to his feet. He searched the floor, realizing that the scroll was gone.
“Hassan.”
Rahal needed to retrieve the artifact at all costs, but getting information was still a necessity. He thought back and realized that Ghazzi had spent some time by the Egyptologist’s side.
Rahal, once more, squatted in front of Ghazzi and redrew his pistol. “Tell me, Mr. Ghazzi, what did you and Dr. Hassan talk about?”
Baahir couldn’t get his breathing under control. He had never been more terrified in his life. A man — a government agent, no less — had turned a gun on him, and tried to kill him. And why? Because he believed that the scroll they had found was actually written by the death god, Anubis.
“Unbelievable.”
He was doing what the emergency dispatcher had told him to do. Baahir was currently sitting inside of his locked SUV with the engine running and the lights off. It was the safest place he could think of being. There was nowhere he could go on foot that Rahal couldn’t follow.
Baahir had never witnessed anyone get shot before. Seeing the look in the injured man’s eyes was something Baahir would never forget.
What about Abbas?
Baahir closed his eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely. He clenched his hands around the steering wheel and squeezed as hard as he could. So much violence, and for what? He couldn’t believe that people still acted like this in the modern age, especially toward the acquisition of historical relics. Baahir had seen the same kind of radical behavior before, but that was in the form of terrorism. He lived in Egypt, after all.
A bolt of lightning struck somewhere in the distance. In its flash, he saw something — a blurry lump silhouetted against the skyline.
Then, the lump started to shoot at him.
The bullet penetrated his windshield, spiderwebbing the glass. Pieces of it hit Baahir in the face and neck, but nothing large enough to seriously injure him. He felt the flow of blood, and the sting of the small, superficial cuts on his exposed skin.
Baahir threw the SUV into
“Oh, my god.” His voice quaked. Baahir had no idea what to do next. He called the police again and reported what had just happened.
“Okay, Mr. Hassan, I need you to stay calm and—”
