The Anubis Plague полностью

“You didn’t answer my question,” Baahir said, standing.

“My apologies, Dr. Hassan.” Ifza feigned forgiveness with a lax bow of her head. “What did you want to know?”

“What is it that you have planned for him?”

Ifza kept her subservient posture but looked up at him with a wide, predatory smile. “He is to be our latest patient. Hopefully, he’ll last longer than the others.”

The others?

She stood. “Thanks to you and your sister,” Ifza held out her hand behind her, “…and your father, and your dear, dear mother.”

That was the second time that Baahir’s family had been brought up with disdain. There was definitely history here, but he had no idea what it was. One of the men unslung a backpack and unzipped it. He reached inside and pulled out what Baahir had been dreading to see.

“This,” Ifza said, examining the large, black canopic jar, “I thank you for this. Had your family destroyed it years ago, none of this would have come to pass.”

Baahir looked over his shoulder, spying the light table at the center of the cave. The extended portion of Anubis’ scroll mentioned something about the hellstone being the key to unlocking the plague. He didn’t understand the science behind it. Since Baahir had arrived on the scene, the team here had only been responsible for research and translation. He knew they were looking for a temple, but other than that, he wasn’t sure of anything else.

Regardless of what was really happening, Grant, and everyone else in the Scales of Anubis’ way, would be doomed.

It begged the question.

Why didn’t Baahir’s mother turn the jar to dust if she, ultimately, knew what it would be used for?

So far, the people of Levanzo had been nothing but gracious. Even the chief of police was a gentleman. When he and his partner showed up, they quickly put in a call for a tow truck to haul the plane to the ferry guard’s cousin’s house. As it were, the tow truck belonged to the cousin, and pilot, Vincenzo. He was a man of many hats, apparently. Only one of the motorists had complained about being run off the road, and even he had left without much more than a fist shake.

“This is the most excitement we’ve seen in months,” Chief Stefano explained.

Zahra grinned. “Well, then, I’m happy to have been of service to you and your people.”

“Yes, thank you.” Stefano let out a boisterous laugh. “Your Italian,” he said, switching to English, “it is impressive.”

“Grazie,” Zahra replied. “I couldn’t not learn the ‘real’ language of love.”

Stefano smiled and waved the tow truck over as it pulled in. “Signorina Kane, this is Vincenzo Barone. He is, like you say, a Swiss Army knife. He does it all!”

Vincenzo tipped his cap to the police chief. “Grazie, Stefano. Thank you kindly.”

The versatile local backed his truck up to the Cessna and climbed out. He and the much taller Cork went over the best way to rig the tow cable and then speedily went about attaching it. Zahra and George stood off to the side and watched the boats come in and out of port. Gathered around their feet were the trio’s belongings. Neither of the Kanes spoke again until Cork prompted them.

“You ready?”

Zahra spun. “Yeah. So, what do we do for tonight?”

Cork pointed at the mechanic. “Vincenzo says there’s a place down the road that can put you two up for the night.”

“Just us?” Zahra asked. “You aren’t coming?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m going to help him with my plane. No one knows my bird better than me.” She flicked her eyebrows. “But he did mention that he has a rollout at his place if I do want to get some sleep.”

Zahra wasn’t exactly sure if the local had meant it in the way that Cork was hoping, but she wasn’t going to be the one to burst the woman’s bubble. All four people piled into Vincenzo’s heavy-duty, four-door tow truck. It was just like the models that were used to transport disabled big rigs on the highways.

The first thing they did was drop the Cessna off at his shop. It was only a ten-minute drive from the port, north across the island’s interior. Vincenzo and Cork unhooked the plane from the vehicle’s winch and climbed back inside. After another short drive, they arrived at a charming cottage right smack on the water.

“Sofia will be by in the morning to see you,” Vincenzo explained. “Key is under the mat.”

Zahra didn’t know what to say. The people of Levanzo were incredibly trusting to outsiders, operating in a very old-fashioned manner. Nowhere in England, or even the United States, would anyone allow you to just waltz into their place unannounced and without payment, or at least an ID. For all Sofia knew, she could be harboring fugitives.

And Zahra sort of, technically, was.

“Grazie, Vincenzo. And please, whatever you can do to get our plane operational would be much appreciated.”