Her English was remarkable, though it was laced with a Middle Eastern inflection.
He narrowed his eyes. “How do you know she values it like that? For all you know, she purchased it at a jumble sale.”
The attacker’s eyebrows knit. “I know the Kanes well enough to know that isn’t true.”
It begged the question again.
“Who are you?”
The woman relaxed. “I am Ifza Ayad.”
Grant’s jaw hit the floor. He swallowed. “Ayad?” He had overheard the between Zahra and her brother. They had mentioned the name.
Ifza nodded. “Yes. Khaliq Ayad is my brother.”
Dozens of unfinished thoughts bounced around inside Grant’s skull. He didn’t know what to do next. But he knew one thing for certain. Zahra would rather destroy her jar than have it fall into the hands of these terrorists. Her brother had said to do just that.
Grant lifted it higher. As he did, Ifza drew a pistol from somewhere behind her back. She leveled it at Grant’s chest but didn’t pull the trigger. The young man froze. Never in his life had Grant had a gun pointed in his direction before. The act weakened his legs, turning them to jelly.
Ifza smiled when he lowered the jar. “Smart man.” Grant didn’t understand. She explained. “That,” she said, pointing at the jar, “is the only reason you are still alive.”
“W — why is that?”
Ifza did something Grant didn’t expect. She lowered the pistol and returned it to the back of the pants.
“Because, if you destroy it, there will be no reason to keep you alive.”
Just then, two burly men entered the room. This pair held intimidating rifles in their hands, and they had them trained on Grant’s midsection. Being a bit of a gamer, Grant recognized the weapons as variants of the famous AK-47.
Ifza stepped closer. “You and the jar are coming with us. You will be our insurance policy against any retaliation from Ms. Kane — same as her brother.”
“That won’t stop her. She won’t stop until she gets what she wants.”
Ifza took another step closer. Now, she was within arm’s reach of Grant. “So are we.”
With no other choice, Grant lowered the jar. “You promise not to kill me?” He handed over the artifact. “Not yet, anyway?”
Ifza grinned and took a step away. Her boot came down on something crunchy. She looked down and lifted her right foot, spotting a smashed cracker. Its box lay next to it.
“Gluten-free, huh?” she asked.
He nodded. “Celiac.”
“Interesting.” She shouted something in Arabic, and her men charged forward and apprehended Grant. “
The thick rubber bottoms of Zahra’s sneakers squeaked as she ground to a halt. She silently stood in place and listened, hearing something out of place in the ultra-quiet air. Zahra could just barely hear muffled voices. She closed her eyes and gauged their exact location.
Zahra took off running, desperately trying to keep her footfalls quiet. She headed west around the back of the Reading Room, slowing when she reached the entrance to the western wing.
Room 4 was an utter disaster. Her heart broke to see what was left of the Rosetta Stone. The relic’s protective case had stood up to the initial barrage of gunfire. Regrettably, the second wave had done it in. A handful of rounds had made their way through, striking the priceless artifact with one nauseating gut punch after another.
And Zahra currently possessed the weapon responsible.
With tears forming in her eyes, she turned away from the awful sight. The murmur of voices started up again and interrupted her intensifying emotions. Currently, she felt loss. The Rosetta Stone was incredibly important to the world, as well as to Zahra’s ancestors back in Egypt. The fact that it was damaged as badly as it was while in England wasn’t going to sit well with the Egyptian people. It could be argued that if it had been in Cairo that it would have avoided any harm.
There had already been millions of dollars in damage tonight, and Zahra doubted it was going to end there.
She hurried forward, circumventing the Lion of Knidos and the body laying beneath it. She still couldn’t believe that Bernie had been murdered. Zahra’s eyes flicked to the lump in the floor, then back to the front doors. She ducked back inside the information desk and got to one knee, lining up a massive man in the sights of her pilfered rifle. He had just appeared from the floor below her, ascending the same staircase she had used earlier. The violent intruders had, it seemed, located the offices belowground.
