Curse of the Pharaoh: A Brock Stone Adventure

4 Trapped

Alex whipped his head around. He expected to see a security guard, or perhaps Constance coming to tell him his time was up. To his surprise, two big goons shouldered their way through the door.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” The speaker was a husky man with blond hair cut in a wave.

“I’m with the Bureau,” Alex said.

“You?” The man smirked. “Let’s see your credentials.”

“My credentials?” Alex blinked. “I don’t have to show you anything.”

“Don’t listen to him, Max. He’s bluffing,” said a black-haired man whose bulk blocked the doorway.

“What is that paper you’re holding?” Max pointed at the map clutched in the hook at the end of Alex’s left arm.

“None of your business.” Alex looked around for an avenue of escape. The only way out that wasn’t blocked was the door leading into the tomb exhibit.

“We’re making it our business. Come on, Artie.” Max dipped into his pocket and took out a pair of brass knuckles which he slipped onto his left hand.

Alex grabbed Orion’s walking stick and flung it at Max. It bounced off the big goon’s chest, eliciting a smile.

“Is that the best you can do?” Max chuckled, took a step forward.

Alex sprang up onto the large mahogany desk. A cup filled with sharpened pencils sat atop it, along with a framed photograph and a ship in a bottle. Alex kicked the pencil cup, sending small, sharp projectiles flying at Kane’s thugs. Max covered his eyes and turned away. Alex hopped down off the desk and made a run for the open door.

The thugs closed in on him. Alex threw his shoulder into a suit of armor as he sprinted past it. It clanged to the floor at the feet of the two goons, who stumbled and fell. A few feet away, something caught his eye — a kerosene lamp sitting on a bookshelf. Alex snatched it up and hurled it at the two men who were just climbing to their feet. The lamp shattered and the fuel spattered all over them.

“Would you look at that?” Artie said. “Now we have to take our suits to the cleaners. I guess he’s going to get away.”

“Not too bright, are you?” Alex took out his Zippo lighter and quickly knelt.

“No!” the two dimwitted men shouted in unison.

Alex gave the lighter a flick and lit the spilled kerosene. A streak of fire shot across the floor and set the two men’s suits ablaze. They roared in pain, scrambled to their feet, and tried to bat out the flames.

Alex’s eyes moved to the door that led back to the museum. There was a commotion, and more men rushed in.

“I won’t be getting out that way.” Alex turned and ran into the tomb exhibit. He wound through a forest of statues — Bastet cats, Anubis warriors, and the ibis-headed form of the god Thoth. At the back of the room, the quartzite vault stood against the wall. High above it hung a grill covering a ventilation shaft. “It’s worth a try.”

Footsteps resounded behind him. He glanced back and saw Max, his face bright red and his clothing and hair scorched, closing in on him. He wound his way through the forest of statues that filled the exhibit to the vault.

An Anubis warrior guarded the vault. He clutched a khopesh, a curved sword with a distinctive, question mark shape. Alex snatched it, turned, and swung it at Max. The blade trimmed a lock of hair from the big thug’s brow. Max leaped backward and fell, toppling a display of scarabs. The artifacts crashed to the floor and spilled in every direction.

Alex clambered up onto the stone vault. He switched the map to his right hand and used his hook to rip the grate off the ventilation shaft. It was just wide enough for his narrow shoulders to fit inside.

“He’s getting away!” Artie shouted.

Alex had a trick up his sleeve. He had made special modifications to the hook he wore. He twisted his hook until it clicked, aimed it down the shaft, and fired. The hook, attached to a fine cable, flew down the shaft until it caught. Alex pressed a button and the cable began to reel in, pulling him along.

He was halfway into the shaft when he heard footsteps behind him. He still clutched the map in his right hand. He felt a tug, heard the sound of ripping paper. And then he was free, sliding along the ventilation shaft. Behind him, Max cursed and shook his fist. He held a section of the map in his hand.

Alex grimaced. He had just lost part of the map, but at least Kane’s goons were too big to follow him down the shaft.

“Now all I need to do is find a way out of here.”