That didn’t feel right. Rahal didn’t admit much back at the temple, but what he had relayed spoke volumes. He had said that the scroll wasn’t for him. Whoever it was for, Baahir had a feeling that they wanted the scroll for themselves, and not just to acquire it to sell it off to the highest bidder moments later.
They wanted Baahir dead because he was a witness.
Baahir entered the parking lot and pulled out his phone as he ran and, for a moment, thought about calling the police again. Baahir balked at the idea, though. For all he knew, the police were in on it as well, and would lead him directly towards his would-be captors.
Three sets of headlights came zooming around the front of the hotel. Two more vehicles had joined the manhunt. Baahir was at a serious disadvantage. Getting to the museum was now an impossibility. They knew he was headed there and would, no doubt, have someone watching the building closely.
Two of the three automobiles stopped. Five men in total exited the vehicles, speaking in hushed tones. Baahir recognized one of the men as Rahal, the man from the dig site. The other four were total strangers to him…
Except for one.
Surely his eyes were playing tricks on him. His memory was usually sharp, but in his current condition, Baahir was having trouble focusing on any one thing. He took a moment to catch his breath and get his bearings. As his mind cleared, he picked up on what was being said between Rahal and the mystery man.
“Where is he?” the bald, bearded man asked.
Rahal threw up his hands in frustration. “I don’t
The larger of the two men stepped up to the other. “Find him, Fahim.”
Rahal shrank away. “I will, Khaliq. You can count on me.”
The other man’s intimidating presence and name jogged Baahir’s memory. He recalled a news story about a man named Khaliq Ayad, owner of
Khaliq held a phone up to his ear, and in the illumination of the two vehicles’ headlights, Baahir saw a symbol that he knew all too well. Khaliq’s right forearm contained a simple tattoo depicting the scales of Anubis. And there, in the middle of the two scales, was the jackal-headed god.
Buried deep within Baahir’s years of research, he had come across the mention of the clandestine organization surrounding the ancient deity. Whenever something incredible was discovered that revolved around the death god, the Scales of Anubis were said to have been involved in some capacity. To this day, most people believed them to be nothing more than a myth — a legend like, Anubis himself.
“Fahim,” Khaliq called out.
Rahal paused his advance into the parking lot. “Yes?”
“What of the jar?”
Baahir’s ears perked up.
“Dr. Hassan said it was with his sister in London.”
Khaliq pulled the phone away from his ear. “London? Where
Baahir didn’t know why a man like Khaliq Ayad would find it so interesting that the jar was in London.
“The British Museum.”
“And the sister?” Khaliq lifted the phone back to his ear, but his attention was still on Rahal.
The agent turned and stepped into the parking lot. “Her name is Zahra Kane.”
Baahir fumbled for his phone and snuck away, heading deeper into the parking lot. The police had just moved into second place in the order of whom he needed to contact.
Zahra needed to be warned.
Baahir tapped a name toward the top of his speed dial and lifted the device to his bloodied temple. He winced and switched ears. He didn’t exactly know what injuries he had sustained in the crash. Everything hurt. Each of the individual wounds masked the other injury’s severity to a degree. He was definitely bleeding from a cut to his ear and to his right temple. Baahir vaguely recalled the explosion of glass that struck him in the face as his SUV flipped.
The phone rang twice and connected.
She hadn’t heard from her brother in eleven months. The tone in his voice concerned her. “What’s wrong, Baahir?”
