The Cult of Osiris

Nina noted that Berkeley had omitted her title from his introduction, but had no time to make a sarcastic correction before Hamdi spoke. ‘Dr Wilde! But of course! How could I not have known?’

‘Well, I did change my hairstyle.’

He smiled. ‘A great pleasure to meet you.’

‘Likewise.’ She shook the Egyptian’s hand. ‘And this is Eddie, my husband.’

‘Husband?’ said Berkeley, taken aback. ‘You got married?’

‘Don’t worry, we weren’t expecting a present off you,’ Eddie said.

Nina looked over the ruins to the Sphinx. ‘I was wondering . . . would it be possible for us to see the actual excavation site?’

‘Sorry,’ said Berkeley, tight-lipped. ‘Authorised personnel only.’

Again, Nina restrained herself from remarking on his dismissive attitude. Instead, she addressed Hamdi. ‘That’s a shame. Couldn’t the SCA make an exception, Dr Hamdi?’

The Egyptian was more polite, but just as unhelpful. ‘I’m afraid not, Dr Wilde. Once the Hall of Records has been opened and everything properly catalogued, then perhaps, but for now we have to maintain strict security.’ He nodded towards the guards at the nearby gate. ‘We had some trouble on the site recently.’

‘So I heard.’

Berkeley frowned. ‘You did?’

‘Yeah. A girl called . . . Macy Sharif, wasn’t it?’ She watched their responses closely. Berkeley seemed stung that word had got out about something so potentially embarrassing - but Hamdi physically flinched, as though he had just received a real sting. ‘Something about her stealing a piece of the Sphinx, wasn’t it?’

‘And - and assaulting me, yes,’ said the flustered Hamdi, rubbing his nose.

Berkeley’s expression darkened. ‘Where did you hear about that?’ he snapped. ‘It was Lola, wasn’t it?’

‘No, it wasn’t, actually,’ she said, defending her friend. ‘It was Macy.’

Whatever had stung Hamdi was now draining the blood from his face. ‘You’ve spoken to her? Where?’

‘In New York,’ she said casually. ‘She told me an interesting story about what was going on here.’ Her gaze hardened, fixing on Hamdi. ‘And after what happened when I met her, I’m inclined to believe her.’

‘What did happen?’ Berkeley asked.

‘Things went a bit Michael Bay,’ said Eddie. ‘Gunfights, car chases, explosions - the usual.’

‘Whatever she told you is a lie,’ Hamdi said, a little too quickly.

Nina indicated the wall below the road. ‘There’s an easy way to find out. Logan, there’s a tent over there. If you take a look inside, I think you’ll find something interesting.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like a shaft that leads to a second entrance to the Hall of Records. Somebody’s trying to beat you to it.’

Berkeley stared at her. ‘Absolute horseshit,’ he finally said.

‘Excuse me?’ said Nina, affronted.

‘This is pathetic, quite frankly. Maureen told me you’d been to see her with some holier-than-thou protest about the opening of the Hall being televised - as if you’ve never taken advantage of the media when it suited you! The cover of Time? Appearing on The Tonight Show?’ His face curled into a sneer. ‘Well, now it’s someone else’s turn in the spotlight, and you just can’t take that, can you?’

‘It’s nothing to do with me,’ she growled. ‘It’s about protecting an archaeological treasure - and maybe even saving you and the IHA from a huge embarrassment.’

Berkeley rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, please. The only embarrassment to the IHA is you, Nina. I suppose after that Garden of Eden garbage you were spouting last year, whatever nonsense Macy came up with to cover her ass was probably right up your street.’

Nina could tell that Eddie was on the verge of punching Berkeley, and moved to block him, though she was sorely tempted to take a swing herself. ‘I wasn’t “spouting” anything - that was a smear job. Not that I expect you to believe me. But you don’t have to believe me about this either. Just look in that tent. I’ll even wait right here, so if I’m wrong and there’s nothing there you can call me an idiot to my face! How about it?’

‘This is ridiculous,’ blustered Hamdi. ‘There is no shaft, there is no robbery.’

‘Well, you would say that,’ said Eddie. ‘Seeing as you’re on the take.’

The Egyptian’s eyes bulged in outrage. ‘That - that is slander!’

‘Easy way to prove it, isn’t there? Look in the tent.’

Hamdi scurried for the security gate. ‘Dr Berkeley, I refuse to stand here and be insulted. I will see you at the excavation - and I am very tempted to have these two removed from the plateau!’ One of the guards raised a hand to stop him, apparently unaware who he was, but the other said something and he stood back.

Berkeley shook his head. ‘You know, it’s really sad that you’ve come down to this level, Nina. I don’t know whether I should pity you or laugh at you.’

‘One of ’em’ll hurt you a lot more than the other,’ Eddie rumbled.

Berkeley looked decidedly uncomfortable at the not-so-veiled threat. ‘I always thought you were too close to the edge,’ he sniffed as he followed Hamdi. ‘Guess I was right.’

‘Yeah? And I always thought you were an asshole, and guess what - I was right too!’ Nina called after him. This time, both guards stepped forward, not letting him into the Sphinx compound until he presented his ID. With a final glare back at Nina, he headed after Hamdi.

‘That went okay, I think,’ said Eddie with a half-smile.

Nina was more aggravated. ‘God damn it! All he has to do is look in the tent, and this whole thing’ll be over!’

‘Well, he can’t say you didn’t warn him. And Rothschild too. They’ll be the ones who’ll look like tools if the place really does get robbed.’

‘But if these guys are smart and connected enough to organise something like this, they’ll be able to clean the place up and cover their tracks before Logan opens the entrance. Nobody’ll even know there was anything there to rob. Oh, God.’ She looked tiredly towards the Valley Temple to see Macy waving impatiently at them. ‘Great, and now we’re being summoned.’

‘What happened?’ Macy demanded when they reached her. ‘Is he going to look?’

‘Take a guess,’ said Eddie.

‘He’s going to look?’

‘Guess again.’

‘Oh.’

‘And also, he hates us,’ added Nina.

From Macy’s expression, the possibility of failure hadn’t occurred to her. ‘But . . . No, no way! Now what do we do?’

‘What can we do?’ Nina asked rhetorically. ‘Logan won’t listen to us, Hamdi’s involved in it, and we can’t get inside the compound to find the thing ourselves.’

Macy delved into a pocket. ‘I’ve still got my ID,’ she said, producing a card. ‘If the guys at the gate are new, they won’t recognise me, so I could get in.’

‘And then what? If Shaban’s guys see you, they’ll try to kill you. And even if you get proof, Logan’ll have you arrested if you try to give it to him.’

‘But we’ve got to do something! The IHA is going to open the Hall of Records in less than eighteen hours, which means whatever the bad guys are doing, they’re doing it right now! This is the only chance we’ll have to stop them!’

‘I don’t want them to rob the Hall of Records either,’ said Nina, ‘but unless we have solid proof we can take to the Egyptian authorities, we can’t do anything to stop them.’

‘So you’re just giving up?’ Macy said in disbelief. She pulled out the magazine pages and flapped them at Nina. ‘Did you just give up when someone said you wouldn’t find Atlantis? Did you give up when nobody believed the Tomb of Hercules was real?’

Nina irritably snatched the papers from her hand. ‘Did you get your motivational speeches from fortune cookies?’ she retorted. ‘I’m being practical here. We can’t do anything unless we can get inside the compound, which we can’t do without IDs - and even if we do, there are fifteen archaeologists and a whole TV crew plus God knows how many guards wandering about the place!’

‘They can’t all be there the whole time,’ said Eddie. ‘They’re doing this thing at the crack of sparrowfart tomorrow morning, right? So the IHA and telly guys have to get some sleep beforehand.’ He looked over at the high wall. ‘Do they still do that light show that was in The Spy Who Loved Me?’ Macy nodded. ‘So everyone’ll be looking at the Sphinx, not anything else . . .’

‘Something in mind?’ Nina asked.

‘I might have a way to get us all in.’ He turned to Macy. ‘It means you’ll have to risk getting caught, though. You up for that?’

Nina gave him a warning look, but Macy was already responding with an enthusiastic affirmative. ‘What do I have to do?’

‘Get through that gate without being arrested, for starters.’ He glanced back towards Cairo. ‘But first, we need to do a bit of shopping.’

The sound and light show was under way by the time they returned to Giza.

Eddie regarded the spotlit Sphinx, then followed the direction of its gaze over the seated audience. ‘Huh,’ he said, spotting a particular illuminated sign on a building beyond the perimeter. ‘The Sphinx is looking right at a Pizza Hut.’

‘Whoever built it’d completely freak out,’ Macy said. ‘The whole point of it looking in that direction was so it would see the sunrise. Now? Start the day with a Pepperoni Feast.’

‘You don’t know who built it?’

‘I thought it was Khafre,’ said Nina.

Macy shook her head. ‘Doubt it. Haven’t you heard of the Inventory Stele?’

‘The what?’ asked Eddie.

‘This ancient text a guy discovered in 1857. According to that, the Sphinx was already there when Khafre was building his pyramid. That’s why the causeway to the pyramid doesn’t point due east - they had to work round the Sphinx.’

‘Actually, I have heard of the Inventory Stele,’ Nina said frostily. ‘And I don’t think the argument about what it says has been definitively settled.’

‘But finding the Hall of Records makes it look a lot more likely to be true, huh? None of the Third Dynasty pharaohs ever mentioned the Hall. Maybe they didn’t know it was there. And if the Sphinx is a lot older than Khafre, that might explain why its head’s so small compared to the rest of its body. One of the pharaohs had the original head re-carved to look like himself.’

Eddie chuckled. ‘I think,’ he said, leaning closer to speak quietly into Nina’s ear, ‘you just got owned.’

‘Shut up.’

They stopped not far from the gate, and Macy looked at the two uniformed men. ‘I don’t recognise either of them.’

‘You’re sure?’ Nina asked.

‘Built, good-looking young guys? Yeah, I would have remembered them.’

‘And are you sure you want to do this?’

‘I’m ready,’ Macy insisted. She took out her ID card, about to head for the gate - then paused and opened a couple of extra shirt buttons.

Nina raised an eyebrow. ‘What’re you doing?’

‘Cloaking device. Trust me.’ Her décolletage adjusted for maximum effect, prompting a faintly lecherous grin from Eddie quickly followed by a swat from his wife, Macy crossed to the security gate. She held up her ID, but even from Nina and Eddie’s vantage point it was obvious that both guards were less interested in her face than in what was on display below it. The gate was opened, Macy giving the two men a cheery smile as she sashayed through.

‘Better get moving,’ said Eddie, starting for the road.

Nina frowned. ‘Unbelievable. She does something that sets women back about thirty years . . . and it works!’

‘Jealous, are you?’ Eddie teased.

‘No. And you can stop leering at her, as well. They’re fake.’

‘What?’ He shook his head. ‘You sure?’

‘Eddie, she looks like a broomstick with two watermelons taped to it! And her father’s a plastic surgeon. Do the math. Also, she’s young enough to be your daughter.’

‘Thanks for depressing me.’

‘I thought it was someone else’s turn.’ They both smiled.

They reached the section of road directly above the construction site and looked down. There was still a pair of guards standing watch - but two other men instantly caught their attention. Neither was familiar, but Nina had a horrible idea what was inside the large case they were carrying out of the tent.

‘Damn it!’ she said. ‘They’re already cleaning the place out!’

‘You think the zodiac’s in that box?’

‘Maybe. Or part of it. They might have had to cut it up to get it through the tunnel. God, what if we’re already too late?’

However, both men soon returned, now empty-handed. They entered the tent.

‘I guess they haven’t finished yet,’ said Eddie.

‘Good - maybe we can still stop them. Have you seen Macy?’

Eddie spotted her peering over a wall inside the upper temple, where she had been hiding from the men carrying the case. ‘Yeah, in there.’ He pointed, then gestured for her to leave cover and approach the construction site. ‘Okay, let’s hope the twins work as well on those two down there.’

He reached under his leather jacket and T-shirt, drawing out the twenty-foot length of nylon line bought in a Cairo store that he had wound round his waist; carrying it openly would have roused the suspicions of even the sleepiest Tourist Police officer. Once he had gathered it up, he fumbled with his belt. ‘Steady,’ he said to the grinning Nina. ‘You’ll get what’s in my pants later.’

‘About damn time!’

He smiled back as he pulled out a metal hook from behind the buckle, where he had wedged it to trick the metal detectors. By the time the line was tied to it, Macy had emerged from the upper temple and was approaching the construction site - attracting the guards’ attention.

Nina regarded the hook nervously as Eddie wedged it under the slab topping the wall. ‘Will it take your weight?’

‘You saying I’ve got a fat arse?’ He looked down again. The guards were moving to meet Macy before she reached the perimeter of orange netting. A quick check to make sure nobody was coming along the darkened road, then he dropped the rope over the wall - and followed it, rapidly lowering himself down the stone face. The hook scraped and creaked.

He glanced over his shoulder as he descended. The guards had almost reached Macy. Twelve feet to the ground ten, eight . . .

She stopped, making the two men come to her. Eddie let go and dropped the last six feet, landing almost soundlessly in a crouch and immediately moving into cover behind one of the piles of bricks. Macy was holding up her camera, gesturing at the Sphinx. He couldn’t hear her over the booming voice of the light show’s narrator, but guessed she was asking them to take her photo with the monument behind her.

They didn’t seem cooperative, one holding out a hand for her ID. Eddie silently advanced on the trio as Macy shrugged, showing off her impressive cleavage once more. These guards were less distracted, the man impatiently snapping his fingers.

She had seen Eddie by now, and made a show of checking her pockets before finally producing her ID. The guard snatched it from her, holding it up to his torch.

Eddie slipped through the plastic netting. Both men had their hands near their guns.

If they heard his footsteps or caught him in their peripheral vision . . .

The guard looked back at Macy, shining his light in her face. He frowned.

About to remember her—

‘Holy crap!’ Macy cried, suddenly whirling and pointing excitedly to the west. ‘Look! Pyramids!’

The guards instinctively turned to see - as Eddie rushed up behind them and slammed their heads together with a dull crack of bone against bone. The two men collapsed nervelessly.

Macy jumped back, startled. ‘Oh my God! Did - did you kill them?’

‘Only if they’ve got fucking Humpty Dumpty heads,’ he said. ‘Give me a hand.’

‘But that was like something out of a movie! How did you do that?’

‘Take head, hit hard. Pretty simple.’ He lifted one of the limp guards by the shoulders. With reluctance, not sure if he really was still alive, Macy helped Eddie drag him behind a dirt mound.

The first man out of sight, Eddie returned for his companion, looking up at the wall to see Nina hesitantly climbing down the rope. By the time the second guard was concealed, she was close to the ground.

She looked round as Eddie came to her, Macy following. ‘Check it out!’ she gasped, straining at the rope. ‘Pretty good for someone who hasn’t exercised in months—’

There was a faint ping of metal from above as the overstressed hook broke, and Nina dropped the last three feet to the sand. ‘Ow, dammit!’ she yelped.

Eddie helped her up. ‘Wasn’t my fat arse we had to worry about, was it?’ Macy giggled.

‘Shut up,’ Nina grumbled, brushing dust from her butt as Eddie coiled the rope and moved off to hide it. ‘And what the hell was that?’ She flapped a hand at Macy’s chest. ‘Put them away, for God’s sake.’

Annoyed, Macy refastened her shirt. ‘What? It worked.’

‘Eddie wouldn’t have fallen for it.’

‘Why, ’cause he’s old?’

‘No,’ Nina said, offended, ‘because he’s ex-special forces and they’re trained not to fall for things like that.’

Macy was surprised. ‘He was in the army? I thought he was just some archaeology guy. You mean he wasn’t joking when he said about being your bodyguard?’

‘No, he wasn’t. That’s how we met - he saved my life. More than once, actually. Although I’ve saved his life a few times now, so we call it square.’

‘Cool,’ said Macy, now even more impressed by Nina’s husband. ‘So . . . does he have a younger brother or something?’

Eddie came back. ‘Don’t know how long they’ll be knocked out,’ he said, ‘but I think we need to do this pretty sharpish anyway.’

‘Definitely,’ Nina agreed. She went to the tent, listening for any indication of life inside before opening the flap. It was empty - but as Macy had described, there was a wooden cubicle occupying one end.

‘Crap,’ Macy muttered, finding only an empty table at the other. ‘This is where the plans were, but they’ve taken them!’ She looked back. ‘One of those guys carrying that box was Gamal, the security chief. Maybe they’ve almost finished - what if we’re too late?’

‘Let’s find out.’ Nina opened the cubicle door.

Macy had been right: there was indeed a shaft descending into the plateau. The sound of a generator came from somewhere below . . . as did another, more distant noise, the screech of a power tool. She went to the ladder, but before climbing on to it she tied her hair into a ponytail.

‘She’s back, baby, yeah!’ said Eddie, grinning. Macy smiled too, touching her own matching hairstyle as Nina started down the ladder.

7

The shaft descended over twenty feet to a gently sloping, stone-walled tunnel. Nina checked that nobody was waiting at the bottom before dropping down. The way north was blocked by compacted sand, but to the south had been dug out to re-open a passage not used for thousands of years. Light bulbs were hung from the ceiling every fifteen feet, stretching off into the distance.

Towards the Sphinx.

The blueprint Macy had shown her was accurate. The Hall of Records had two entrances - the one on the east side that the IHA team would shortly open, and another to the north, reserved for royalty. Only the conspirators of the Osirian Temple knew about the latter . . . and Berkeley hadn’t looked for any other ways in. With a deadline to meet and his eyes filled with stars, he had rushed straight for the obvious target, not even considering that there might be another.

It was a mistake that could cost dearly.

Eddie jumped down beside her. He sniffed. ‘Smells like they’re cutting stone.’

Nina picked up a faint burning odour. ‘That’s what that is?’

‘Yeah. I had a summer job at a monumental mason’s once - they used power saws to cut the gravestones. Smelled like that.’

‘You used to make gravestones? I learn something new about you every day.’

He smiled. ‘Man of mystery, love.’

Macy hopped from the ladder, looking round in wonder. ‘Oh, my God. This is awesome!’ She rubbed the sand coating one wall to reveal darker stone beneath. ‘Pink granite - probably from Aswan. This is definitely a royals-only way in. It was too expensive for anyone else.’

‘You know your stuff,’ said Eddie.

‘Of course I do!’ Then, more self-conscious: ‘The Egyptian stuff, anyway. I’m not as hot on the rest . . . Can we get going now?’

‘Behind me,’ Eddie said firmly, moving in front of her. ‘We don’t know what’s down here.’

They discovered one thing about two-thirds of the way down the tunnel - a petrol-powered generator, its exhaust hose leading back to the surface. Just past it, the passage showed signs of major damage: the ceiling was propped up by hefty wooden beams.

‘Looks about to cave in,’ said Eddie, passing warily beneath them.

Nina looked more closely. ‘Maybe it already did - looks like they had to rebuild the roof to get through. They must have been working here for weeks - what are you doing?’

Macy raised her camera. ‘Getting proof of everything.’

‘You can’t use the flash in here, they might see it!’

‘I know that, duh! I’m recording a video.’ She fiddled with the controls, then filmed the ceiling. Eddie and Nina moved on. ‘Hey, wait!’

Eddie approached the end of the passage. Sand-crusted pillars, ornate carvings discernible beneath the grit, marked the entrance to a chamber. The echoing grind of the power tool was louder here.

He peered into the room. The ceiling bulbs were replaced by banks of brilliant lights mounted on heavy-duty tripods, illuminating the western half of a large rectangular chamber. There was nobody in sight, but the noise was coming from beyond an opening in the west wall, where more lights were visible. He entered, signalling for Nina and Macy to follow.

Nina could barely contain her amazement. ‘My God,’ she whispered, taking in the two rows of hieroglyph-covered cylindrical pillars running along the room’s length, the further symbols on the walls, the ranks of niches containing lidded clay containers to protect the papyrus scrolls inside . . .

The Hall of Records. Until recently, believed to be nothing more than a myth - but now very real. And she was one of the first people to enter it in millennia.

Not the first, though. The modern artefacts amongst the ancient were proof enough of that. A large block was propped up on wheeled jacks by the entrance - the stone that had once sealed it, ready to be moved back into place once the robbers were done. The floor was covered in dust, numerous bootprints passing to and fro through the room.

‘Ay up,’ said Eddie, spotting a familiar item of clothing draped over a workbench near the entrance. ‘I recognise that.’

‘So do I,’ said Nina, seeing the snakeskin jacket. She looked past it into the shadows of the chamber’s eastern end. On the far wall, more pillars marked another entrance: the one through which Berkeley and his team would enter.

Macy, meanwhile, went to the other end of the room, passing a chugging compressor and an electrical junction box. Power cables and a hose ran from them into the short passage to the next chamber. She was about to go through when Eddie waved her back. ‘Over here.’ He went to a darkened opening directly opposite the royal entrance.

Nina joined him, noticing that there were almost no footprints outside the area between the entrance and the next illuminated chamber. The robbers were only interested in one specific part of the Hall of Records, completely ignoring the rest. ‘What’s in there?’

‘Egyptian stuff.’ She made a sarcastic face. ‘But I think it goes round and joins back up. I can see some light at the far end.’ He took out a small penlight and swept its beam across the new room. Though smaller than the chamber in which they stood, it contained just as much ancient knowledge. This room had sustained damage, however, possibly from an earthquake; one pillar had partly collapsed, leaving large chunks lying on the floor.

Eddie moved inside. Nina followed, Macy behind her, camera in hand. A rectangle of dim light in the west wall marked the entrance to a fourth chamber; crossing to it, they saw the back of another lighting rig in the exit at its northwestern corner. They entered the new chamber and crept along the wall to the lights, which illuminated a flight of steps.

Nina looked round the tripod. The broad stone stairs led upwards - into, she realised with a thrill, the body of the Sphinx itself. The room at the top had been carved directly out of the heart of the great statue.

And over the sound of the power tools she heard voices.

‘What’re you doing?’ Eddie demanded as she tried to push past him.

‘I want to see what’s up there.’

‘Yeah, and they’ll see you!’

‘No, they won’t - there’ll be too much glare from these lights.’ He frowned, but backed up.

The chamber Macy had almost entered earlier was across the bottom of the stairs, more light stands within. The trail of dusty footprints ran from it up the steps. Nina leaned out to see what was at the top - and felt another adrenalin shot of discovery.

Mixed with fear.

Several figures were visible in the upper chamber, and even without his snakeskin jacket she recognised the man from New York, who Macy had said was called Diamondback. She also spotted Hamdi, talking to someone outside her narrow field of view. But it was the object of their attention that had also grabbed hers.

It was on the ceiling - a zodiac, a star map about six feet in diameter, the constellations carved into the stone in the form of the ancient Egyptian gods. Nina knew of others - there was one in the Louvre in Paris - but unlike them this was still painted, as its creators had intended.

But it was no longer complete. It had been dismantled, desecrated. Only one part remained on the ceiling, a roughly triangular section running from its southern edge to just past the centre. She could see the circular outline of where the rest had been clearly enough; power tools had carved away the surrounding stone, then pieces had been carefully and precisely cut from the ceiling. A man wearing goggles, a facemask and ear protectors was using a circular saw to free the final piece.

Another masked man was also working on the ceiling, but with much less sophisticated tools - a hammer and chisel. Nina was puzzled, before realising what he was doing: knocking dents into the perfectly flat swathes cut by the saw. All he had to do to remove any evidence that the zodiac had ever been there was roughen the newly exposed circle to match the limestone ceiling. With so many other treasures in the Hall of Records, nobody would pay any attention to a discolouration of the roof. She appreciated the ingenuity of the operation . . . even as she was utterly appalled by it.

The man Hamdi was addressing stepped into Nina’s view. She recognised him from his picture.

Sebak Shaban.

She also saw that Macy hadn’t been exaggerating about his facial scar, which dominated the right side of his face from the top lip to the nub of the ear. She couldn’t help cringing at the thought of the pain he must have endured.

But that didn’t earn him her sympathy. He was still a thief, stealing one of the world’s greatest archaeological treasures.

The saw’s screech died down, its user gesturing to a third man - Gamal, who had helped to carry the case from the tent. Now she was sure what it had contained: a piece of the zodiac. The cramped vertical shaft made it impossible to remove the map intact, so it had been cut into more manageable sections.

That, and the care being taken not to damage the last piece, suggested the thieves intended to reassemble it. Maybe it could still be restored.

But for that to happen, the conspirators would have to be caught.

‘Give me your camera,’ she whispered to Macy, who passed it to her. ‘How does it record?’

‘Just press the button, then press it again when you want to stop.’

‘Okay.’ Nina held the camera out past the lighting rig and started recording, watching the image on the LCD screen. To her annoyance, Shaban and Hamdi had turned to regard the zodiac, only the backs of their heads visible. ‘Turn round, dammit,’ she hissed. If she could get a clear shot of their faces, they would be heading to prison for a very long time.

Eddie crept alongside her, straining to hear what they were saying. The discussion was in Arabic; he could make out some words, but not enough to understand the entire conversation. ‘Is that the zodiac?’

‘What’s left of it.’ And the last section would soon be gone. Gamal moved a piece of equipment into position beneath it - a support frame, padded bars mounted on a pneumatic jack. He operated a control, and a piercing hiss of compressed air echoed round the chamber as the jack slowly extended. Hamdi put his fingers to his ears and backed out of the camera’s view.

Shaban remained focused on the jack. The frame rose until it was just below the zodiac, then slowed, advancing step by tiny step until the pads touched the ancient carving.

The jack’s hiss stopped - but was quickly replaced by the whine of the circular saw as the masked man cut into the stone once more. With the jack supporting it, the last piece of the zodiac could be safely cut free of the ceiling.

Diamondback said something to Shaban, and both men moved out of sight. Nina cursed. But at least the camera now had a clear view of the zodiac as it was being stolen. That would hopefully be enough to convince the Egyptian authorities—

Movement forced her to duck back into the darkened room. A muscular Caucasian man with close-cropped grey hair started down the stairs. He was carrying what looked like a chainsaw, though its heavy teeth set it apart from the average lumberjack’s tool: a piece of specialised stonecutting equipment. As he descended, he coiled up the saw’s power cable, following it into the illuminated chamber.

‘Looks like they’re about to sod off,’ Eddie whispered once he was out of sight.

‘We probably should too,’ said Nina. She stopped the recording, and they retreated through the two dark chambers - only to stop at the entrance to the first room.

‘Buggeration,’ Eddie muttered. The man was checking the jacks supporting the stone slab.

‘We could just run past him,’ Macy suggested.

‘Yeah, but if he’s got a gun, he’ll have an easy shot at us in that tunnel. We need to get out without anyone seeing us.’

But that soon became even less likely. Diamondback swaggered into the entrance chamber, wiping dust from his beard. The saw’s noise died away, replaced by the hiss of the jack lowering. Before long, Gamal and the other man brought another case into the room, Shaban and Hamdi close behind them.

‘That everything?’ asked Diamondback. ‘So what now?’

‘Now,’ said Shaban, ‘we clean up.’ He looked at his watch, then indicated the eastern entrance. ‘We have just over five hours before the IHA open that door. Lorenz, how long will it take to seal the royal entrance?’

The grey-haired man looked up from the jacks. ‘Once we’ve got everything out of here, about an hour to move the block back into position,’ he said, his accent Dutch.

‘There can’t be so much as a footprint left behind,’ Hamdi said, nervously regarding the tracks on the dusty floor.

‘There won’t be.’ Shaban indicated some gas cylinders beside the compressor. ‘We’ll use compressed air to clear the floors - by the time the IHA get in, the dust will have settled.’ A nod to the man standing with Gamal. ‘Broma, get started.’

‘Shit,’ Eddie whispered. ‘We’ll have to make a run for it after all. Soon as they go back upstairs for their gear, we’ll leg it.’

They waited in the darkness as Broma began erasing stray footprints with blasts of compressed air. The other men moved away from the swirling dust clouds.

‘Should we risk it?’ said Nina.

‘There’s still that bloke by the door,’ Eddie said, watching Lorenz check the jacks. ‘When he moves away . . .’

Broma suddenly stopped working, peering with a puzzled expression at the floor near the entrance to the dark chamber. Eddie immediately knew why.

He had seen their footprints, freshly made in the dust.

‘Back, back, back!’ Eddie hissed. Broma followed the new tracks to the entrance. He squinted into the shadows.

Eddie and Nina ducked down behind a section of the ruined pillar. Macy crouched beside a smaller hunk of broken stone as Broma swept a torch beam across the floor. He fixed the circle of light on one set of tracks and followed them.

To Macy’s hiding place.

Frightened, she hunched lower - and crunched a small piece of debris under her sole. It was only a faint scrape, but it was enough to make Broma twitch. The torch beam locked on to the fallen pillar. He put down the air cylinder . . . and drew a knife.

Macy froze. The beam exposed more of the pillar as he approached . . . then found the young woman hiding behind it.

The knife snapped up—

Crack!

A five-thousand-year-old piece of pottery exploded into fragments as Eddie smashed it over Broma’s head. The man fell to his knees against Macy’s hiding place - and Eddie kicked the back of his head, cracking him face first against the stone. Broma slumped unconscious to the floor.

In the entrance chamber, Shaban looked round sharply at the noise. ‘Broma?’ he called. No reply. He gestured to Lorenz. ‘Check it.’ Lorenz grabbed a pickaxe and hurried to investigate.

Nina jumped up. ‘Come on,’ said Eddie, grabbing Macy’s hand and quickly following Nina to the other doorway.

Lorenz entered the room, seeing Broma’s fallen torch - and the body slumped beside it. He looked round in alarm, spotting fleeing silhouettes in the faint rectangle of light across the room. ‘Hey!’

‘Shit!’ Nina gasped. She raced through the next darkened room, passing the light stand and glancing up the stairs. Nobody in the zodiac chamber, but there was no way out either. Instead she ran into the last room, a smaller repository of records with four supporting pillars lit by two more light stands. An opening in the east wall led back into the entrance chamber.

Through it, she saw Gamal running towards her with a hammer in one hand. Backing up, she almost collided with Eddie at the bottom of the stairs. ‘This way’s blocked!’

‘So’s that way!’ Macy cried, pointing behind her as Lorenz charged after them.

‘Up!’ Eddie yelled, taking the steps three at a time. Nina and Macy dashed after him.

Gamal and Lorenz reached the bottom of the stairs simultaneously, rushing up them to catch their cornered prey . . .

Only to run back down even faster as a screaming Eddie pursued them, the circular saw shrilling in his hands. ‘Come on, you fuck-sticks! ’ he bellowed as he chased them into the illuminated room. ‘Who wants some?’

Gamal clearly didn’t, sprinting back into the entrance chamber, but Lorenz turned to face him. He swung the pickaxe, trying to smash the saw from Eddie’s grip. Eddie jerked back - and another swipe brought the sharp point alarmingly close to his head. ‘Whoa!’

The spinning blade was producing a gyroscopic effect, making the bulky and heavy saw even more awkward to wield. Sweeping its trailing power cable out from under his feet, Eddie hefted it, watching Lorenz’s movements closely as the two men circled. He would have to be fast.

Lorenz lunged—

Eddie twisted away from the metal spike - and jerked the saw upwards. There was a brief skzzt! as the blade sliced effortlessly through the pickaxe handle, the head flying across the room. He grunted, annoyed. He’d been aiming for Lorenz’s hands.

It had the desired effect, though. Lorenz dropped the handle’s stump and rapidly retreated into the entrance chamber. Eddie glanced back at Macy and Nina. ‘Think I’ve got this under control!’ he shouted over the noise of the whirling saw. ‘You two get ready to run, I’ll - oh, shit!’

Through the passage he saw Diamondback at the workbench, donning his snakeskin jacket and drawing a revolver from inside it - but the more immediate danger was Gamal, running back past Lorenz with the chainsaw in his hands!

8

Eddie scuttled backwards as Gamal ran into the room, his weapon’s cable whipping behind him. The chainsaw was smaller and lighter than the circular saw - and its blade was much longer. ‘Go round the other way!’ he shouted to the women, only to realise they had separated. Nina was at the doorway to the stairs, but Macy had jumped the gun and was halfway round the room before she froze as she saw the new threat. Eddie was now between them - and with Gamal coming straight for him, Macy was cut off.

Gamal thrust the chainsaw at Eddie’s stomach. He swung his clumsy weapon downwards to protect himself, and the two blades clashed against each other. The circular saw was almost wrenched from Eddie’s hands as the edge of his blade momentarily caught in the chainsaw’s teeth, spinning metal coming perilously close to his leg. With a strained roar, he hauled the saw back up - as Gamal stabbed at him again.

Sparks sprayed as Eddie’s weapon rasped along the chainsaw’s flat blade before snagging in its teeth once more. The jarring impact knocked him backwards, and he almost tripped over the jack’s air hose. Gamal advanced.

Lorenz re-entered the chamber. He saw Macy trapped in the corner and moved towards her, fists raised. ‘Uh, little help?’ she cried.

Nina was about to try to reach her when she saw Diamondback running towards the room, gun raised. She dived back to the foot of the stairs as a bullet shattered a scroll container.

Macy backed towards the light stand as Lorenz closed in. Eddie moved to interpose himself, but if he tried to attack Lorenz, Gamal would be able to get a clear strike with the chainsaw.

The hose—

He swung the saw - not at Lorenz, but at the floor, slicing through the air line. There was a ringing shrill as his blade carved a groove into the stone, but it was nothing compared to the earsplitting hiss as compressed air surged from the hose’s severed end, sending it whipping insanely about the chamber.

It lashed Lorenz, opening a deep cut in his cheek as it struck him and blasted gritty air into his eyes. He screamed, staggering blindly away from Macy - to smack head first into a pillar. He dropped to his knees, groaning.

Gamal backed away from the demented hose - blocking Diamondback’s aim. ‘Turn off the compressor!’ the Egyptian shouted.

‘Go round, get out!’ Eddie told Nina, gesturing for her to escape through the darkened chambers.

‘Not without you!’

‘I’ll catch up, just go!’

The writhing hose abruptly died, slapping lifelessly to the floor. Diamondback had shut down the compressor. Nina saw him dart back to the doorway, gun at the ready. She turned and ran as another Magnum round smacked into the wall.

Gamal went back on the attack. Eddie swung his saw defensively, the blades grinding with another shower of sparks. Macy shrieked and took cover behind a pillar as the two men passed, Gamal driving his opponent into a corner.

Something brushed her foot. She looked down, seeing the saws’ power cables shifting as their wielders moved. A memory from the entrance chamber flashed through her mind - the junction box, equipment plugged into it.

Including the chainsaw . . .

Both cables were orange - but the chainsaw’s seemed a deeper shade. She grabbed the darker of the two lines at her feet and reeled it in.

Diamondback was about to pursue Nina when his attention was caught by the saw fight. He took aim at the Englishman - but Gamal, back to him, unwittingly obscured his sight as he lunged at Eddie once more. The American released the trigger, impatiently waiting for another opportunity to fire.

Eddie tried to slash at Gamal’s arm, but the uniformed man easily countered, the chainsaw bitting a chunk out of the circular saw’s casing. Eddie flinched as plastic fragments spat into his face. The sheer mass of the machine was rapidly wearing him down - and behind his adversary he saw Diamondback, revolver tracking him. Gamal jabbed the chainsaw, forcing him back. He could feel the heat of the lamps on the back of his head.

Cornered—

Macy felt the cord pull taut. She yanked it as hard as she could.

In the next chamber, the plug popped out of the junction box . . .

And Eddie’s saw fell silent.

The chainsaw’s electrical flex wasn’t darker. It was just dirty - and she had taken hold of a similarly grubby section of the circular saw’s power cable.

‘What the fuck?’ Eddie yelped. He looked at Macy, crouched with the cable in her hands and a guilty expression. ‘Macy!’

The blade was still spinning, but slowing - and Gamal had already seen his opportunity, stabbing the chainsaw at him. He jerked up the dead power tool like a shield—

The chainsaw’s teeth ripped through its casing and smashed the blade’s axle assembly. The steel disc shot across the room like a lethal Frisbee. It clanged off a pillar, whipping at the passage - and forcing Diamondback to dive backwards to avoid being decapitated. The blade shot over him and bounced off another pillar in the entrance chamber. Shaban ducked and Hamdi screamed as it flew between them.

Eddie hurled his useless weapon at Gamal. He hoped the other man would make the mistake of trying to deflect the heavy piece of machinery with the chainsaw and knock his own blade back into his face, but the security chief spun out of the missile’s way and faced his target again.

His defenceless target.

The chainsaw swung, forcing Eddie back against the light stand. Gamal grinned, driving the saw straight for his chest—

Macy pulled the other cable.

The unexpected tug was just hard enough to throw off Gamal’s aim. The blade’s tip slashed through the shoulder of Eddie’s leather jacket, drawing blood - but the wound wasn’t enough to stop Eddie from grabbing his unbalanced enemy and flinging him round—

Into the light stand.

The chainsaw carved through the high-powered bulbs - and their power lines. Glass exploded and crackling blue flashes arced as Gamal took the full force of the electricity through his body. Muscles paralysed, unable even to scream, he crashed on to the tripod. Smoke coiled from his nostrils and eye sockets as he was cooked from the inside out.

Eddie jumped clear. ‘Bright spark,’ he said as he pulled the horrified Macy upright. ‘Come on!’

Nina ran through the dark rooms. In the glow from his dropped flashlight she saw Broma woozily pushing himself up - and stomped on his back as she vaulted the fallen pillar, slamming him back down.

She reached the short passage. Shaban was by the royal entrance across from her, Hamdi leaning breathlessly against a nearer pillar, ghost-pale. He saw her, and reacted in shock. ‘Dr Wilde?’

‘Dr Hamdi,’ she replied. ‘I think you’ve got some explaining to do.’

He came towards her. ‘If you think you can—’

She punched him in the face and continued towards Shaban, leaving the Egyptian official squealing and holding his nose. A crowbar was propped against a pillar; she picked it up, holding it like a sword. Shaban seemed unconcerned, a slight smirk twisting his scarred lip. ‘Dunno what you’re grinning at,’ she said, indicating the case. ‘You’re not taking that out of here.’

He didn’t answer, but his brief glance to one side warned Nina that something was wrong. She turned her head towards the western exit - and saw Diamondback returning.

Aiming—

A bullet blew a chunk from a pillar as she leapt past a light stand to take cover behind the ornate column. ‘Kill her,’ Shaban ordered.

In the second dark chamber, Eddie heard the shot. ‘Hide in here,’ he told Macy before running into the first unlit room. Broma was struggling to rise again, so he trampled him back down, then saw his knife glinting in the spill of torchlight and snatched it up.

Nina kicked the light stand. Top-heavy, it crashed to the floor, the bulbs shattering and plunging the room’s eastern end into darkness. She ran to another pillar near the sealed entrance. Diamondback jogged towards her. Behind him, Lorenz stumbled into the room, blood on his face. The shadows wouldn’t hide her for long . . .

Eddie ran in, guessing Nina’s position from where Diamondback was pointing his gun. ‘Oi!’ he yelled. Diamondback saw him, spun, fired - as Eddie ducked behind a column, the wall cratering just behind him.

‘Get the zodiac out of here!’ Shaban ordered, waving Lorenz over. Hamdi scurried to join him.

Diamondback closed in. Back pressed against the column, Eddie raised the knife. The American’s revolver fetish meant he only had two shots remaining in his Colt Python. Even with a speedloader, it would take him several seconds to re-arm once they were gone, leaving him open to a counter-attack.

But he had to use up the remaining bullets first.

A sound from the nearby doorway. Broma had recovered, face gnarled with anger. He lumbered towards Eddie. Shit! That left only one direction he could retreat - and Diamondback was waiting—

From the shadows, Nina saw Diamondback’s face light up with the anticipation of a kill. ‘Eddie!’ she cried, flinging the crowbar as hard as she could at the gunman.

It hit his shoulder. The .357 Magnum boomed as his finger flinched on the trigger. Broma jumped back from the bullet impact on the column - and Eddie ran into the darkness to Nina.

‘Broma! Lorenz! Take the zodiac!’ Shaban shouted, angry impatience rising. Broma hesitated, then crossed the chamber to pick up one end of the case. Lorenz took the other. Hamdi turned and fled up the tunnel, holding his nose. The two men carried the case after him.

‘Dammit!’ Nina said as she watched the zodiac disappear, before looking at Eddie. ‘What, you brought a knife to a gunfight?’

‘He’s only got one more shot,’ Eddie countered. ‘Then he’ll have brought fists to a knife fight!’

Diamondback was closing on them, but Shaban shouted to him. ‘Bobby! Come on!’

‘What about these two?’

‘The zodiac is all that matters - go! We’ll collapse the tunnel and seal them in!’

Nina and Eddie shared an anxious look. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’ they said as one.

Shaban entered the tunnel. Diamondback followed him as far as the entrance, holding position beside the stone block with his gun raised, daring the couple to show their faces.

‘Give me one of those pots,’ Eddie said.

Nina grimaced at the thought of another priceless artefact’s destruction, but handed him a container. He hefted it.

Shaban’s voice echoed down the tunnel. ‘Bobby, move!’ Diamondback’s gaze flicked towards to the sound, just for a moment—

Eddie sprang out and hurled the pot.

He was already rolling for the cover of the next pillar as Diamondback fired - and hit the container in mid-air. It exploded like a clay pigeon. Some of the pieces struck Eddie, but he ignored them, only one thought in his mind.

Six shots.

He jumped up, hoping he hadn’t misidentified the revolver and that Diamondback wasn’t carrying a seven-shooter . . .

He wasn’t. The American turned and sprinted up the tunnel.

Eddie pursued him, light bulbs flashing past.

Too late, he realised Diamondback was carrying a second revolver. He tugged it out of his jacket, slowed, turned—

Eddie tackled him. Both men hit the floor beside the chugging generator. Diamondback raised his gun, but Eddie swiped it from his hand. The lank-haired gunman tried to scramble after it, only for Eddie to slam a sledgehammer punch into his kidney, dropping him flat.

But Diamondback wasn’t out of the fight, wrenching himself round and smashing an elbow into Eddie’s chest. Eddie gasped at a stab of resurgent pain where his rib had been broken seven months earlier.

Diamondback saw the weakness and lashed at the spot again. Eddie thumped back against a support beam.

The American pulled free, trying to get up, but Eddie kicked him hard on the backside. Diamondback stumbled before falling again . . .

At Shaban’s feet.

Eddie looked up. Shaban had retrieved the revolver.

And was pointing it at him—

He rolled behind the generator as Shaban fired. The first shot smacked off the floor and ricocheted down the tunnel - but the next hit the generator. The machine jolted, mechanism grinding. The lights flickered. Another shot - and the fuel tank burst open, petrol gushing out.

‘Get back,’ Shaban told his henchman, a cruel smile forming. Diamondback stood with a sadistic half-laugh. Both men retreated.

‘Oh, shit,’ Eddie whispered. He had a choice of death by bullet - or death by incineration.

Shaban fired. Hot lead ignited the fuel vapour, flashing it into fire.

Eddie leapt up and ran—

The generator exploded. The lights instantly went out, but Eddie could see all too well as a bright orange fireball erupted behind him, singeing his skin and hair as he dived. A greasy wave of flame roiled over him, clinging to the ceiling.

The echo of the blast faded - but that wasn’t the noise he was concerned with. Instead it was the sinister crackle of flames consuming wood, the deeper crunch of stone as the damaged ceiling gave way . . .

Eddie sprang up and raced into the darkness - as the roof caved in with a huge boom behind him. He tumbled across the entrance chamber in a swelling, choking cloud of sand.

‘Eddie!’ Nina shouted between coughs. ‘Are you all right? Eddie!’

‘I’m - I’m okay,’ he spluttered, pulling his T-shirt up over his mouth and nose. The noise of the collapse had stopped, only the hiss of falling sand audible from the tunnel.

‘What the hell happened?’

‘The generator blew up, took out the props. Ceiling fell down.’

‘You mean we’re trapped?’ A ball of ghost light resolved itself into Macy holding Broma’s dropped torch. ‘Oh, my God! We’ll run out of air!’

‘This place is pretty big, so we’ll be okay as long as nobody starts running laps,’ Eddie assured her. ‘Or starts panicking.’

‘I-I’m not panicking! I mean, we’re only trapped under the Sphinx, what’s to panic about?’

Nina helped Eddie up. ‘You okay?’

‘I’ll live - although I owe that mulleted twat a good kicking. Macy, give me the torch.’ He aimed it down the tunnel. Though the swirling dust was still thick, it was plain that the passage was completely blocked. ‘Huh. We’ll have a job digging through that.’

‘We don’t need to. Remember?’ Nina turned his hand to illuminate the chamber’s eastern end. The beam fell on the carved pillars of the second entrance. ‘We just have to wait for prime time . . .’

Berkeley composed himself before taking hold of the final broken stone and, with deliberate theatricality, moving it aside. ‘This . . . is it,’ he said to the camera behind him. Though the tunnel’s confines meant there was only room for half a dozen people to witness the opening of the Hall of Records first-hand, the cyclopean glass eye was an avatar for millions all round the globe. His words in the next few minutes could be as well remembered as those of Neil Armstrong when he made the first footfall on the moon.

As he passed the stone back to another team member, he briefly glanced at his watch - 4.46 a.m., 9.46 p.m. in New York, exactly on schedule - before picking up a crowbar and facing the camera again. ‘The last piece of rubble has been cleared from the entrance,’ he said, with as great a tone of expectant gravity as he could manage. ‘The only thing now standing between us and our first sight of the legendary Hall of Records beneath the Sphinx is this stone slab. Once it’s opened, we will be the first people to enter for over five thousand years. Nobody knows exactly what treasures are within . . . but there’s one thing we can be sure about. Whatever we see beyond this door will be remembered for a very long time.’

Behind the cameraman, he saw Metz making a ‘hurry up’ gesture. Concealing his annoyance at being rushed, Berkeley inserted his crowbar into the gap at one side of the block, then turned back to camera. ‘Here we go.’

He pulled at the crowbar. For a moment the only sound was the scrape of metal on stone, then with a low grumble the slab moved. Berkeley could hardly contain his excitement as the stone inched outwards from the wall. It was finally happening! The Hall of Records, revealed at last . . . and he was the one the world was watching. Not any of the other archaeologists who had been so desperate to win the IHA assignment, and certainly not Nina Wilde . . .

The slab turned slightly, revealing a line of blackness. A puff of dust billowed out. Berkeley’s heart raced. He pulled harder. The slab came free. He pushed it aside, then looked through the opening. The cameraman moved forward, the camera’s light shining on what lay within . . .

It found the grubby, dust-covered face of Nina Wilde.

‘Hey, Logan,’ she said, as Berkeley’s heart plunged down through his chest cavity and fell deep into the ground below. ‘Welcome to the Hall of Records. What kept you?’

9

‘These people are nothing more than vandals and thieves. They should be thrown in prison for twenty years!’

There was anger in Hamdi’s voice, but also an undertone of fear. Which was hardly surprising. Nina thought; if the Egyptian authorities saw proof of his involvement in the zodiac’s theft, he would be the one facing twenty years in prison.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have such proof - certainly not enough to stand up in court. After she, Eddie and Macy emerged from the Sphinx - and were arrested, the default action when those in charge had no idea what was going on but had to be seen to be doing something - they were eventually taken to the Ministry of Culture to explain themselves, with Hamdi and Berkeley acting as an impromptu and rather strident prosecution.

What they did have, though, was enough evidence to prove that someone had indeed beaten the IHA to the Hall of Records. The recording from Macy’s camera had been copied to a computer, and was now displayed on a large TV in the minister’s office. The image was frozen, the last section of the zodiac revealed on the ceiling, with Shaban and Hamdi standing before it. Unfortunately, the glare from the lights in the zodiac chamber rendered them barely more than silhouettes.

‘We weren’t the ones who robbed the place,’ said Nina. ‘Eddie and I only arrived in the country yesterday morning. But the work needed to dig out the tunnel must have been going on for weeks. Since it was happening right there in the Sphinx compound, it had to have been done with the collusion of someone at Giza.’ She eyed Hamdi. ‘Wouldn’t you say?’

The minister, an elderly, long-faced man called Malakani Siddig, examined a photograph. ‘The dead man, this Gamal, was in charge of site security. I think it’s a safe assumption that he was working with the robbers.’

‘It was a mistake to use private security contractors,’ mused Dr Ismail Assad, the Secretary General of the Supreme Council of Antiquities. ‘We should have brought in the army - maybe even the Antiquities Special Protection Squad.’

Eddie worked out the acronym. ‘ASPS? Cool name.’

‘It’s more likely that Gamal was following Dr Wilde and her gang and was murdered when he tried to arrest them,’ said Hamdi. Even Berkeley regarded his suggestion with disbelief.

Assad leafed through more photos of the equipment the thieves had been forced to abandon. ‘This was a much larger operation than just one man, one woman and a girl could have carried out.’

‘I’m not a “girl”,’ Macy protested.

Nina batted her arm with a ‘Shush!’ then continued: ‘There were at least ten people involved - the six men on the video, plus the guards at the construction site and the ones at the compound gate. Probably more. If you’re going to investigate everyone at Giza who might have been involved, I’d suggest starting at the top.’ She stared at Hamdi.

‘This is outrageous!’ Hamdi blustered. ‘They are trying to implicate me to deflect attention from themselves.’

‘You sound a bit bunged-up, mate,’ said Eddie.

‘Looks like someone hit your nose,’ Nina noted. ‘Wonder where that happened?’ She examined her knuckles. ‘Funny, I’ve got kind of a nose-shaped bruise here . . .’

‘Minister,’ growled Berkeley, ‘at the very least Dr Wilde and her husband should be charged with trespass and damage to an archaeological site.’ He glared at Nina. ‘You couldn’t let me have my moment, could you? No, you had to ruin everything so you could be the centre of attention and take all the credit.’

‘Oh, grow up, Logan,’ Nina snapped.

Assad leaned back in his chair. ‘Dr Berkeley, there are more important crimes to be investigated first.’ He pointed at the image of the zodiac. ‘A priceless national treasure has been stolen - from under your nose! People will want to know how you could have possibly not known about a second tunnel being dug right in front of you.’

‘They might even wonder if you did know,’ said Siddig with veiled menace.

Berkeley looked shocked. ‘But - of course I didn’t! Why would I wreck my own career and risk going to prison?’

‘People risk all kinds of things for the right amount of money,’ said Nina. She was certain that he hadn’t been involved, but still took a little pleasure in watching him squirm.

Siddig seemed uncomfortable at the mention of money. ‘Dr Wilde, you believe the Osirian Temple is involved?’

‘That’s right.’ She crossed to the television. ‘This man on the left is Sebak Shaban.’

‘It could be anyone,’ snapped Hamdi.

‘So could his buddy on the right, huh, Dr Hamdi?’

‘Dr Hamdi has a point, though,’ said Assad. ‘The video never shows their faces. And there’s too much noise from the saw to identify their voices.’

‘It’s Shaban,’ Nina insisted. ‘The Osirian Temple is behind this.’

‘It’s certainly not a religion I believe in, or even approve of,’ said Siddig, ‘but the Osirian Temple is a major charitable contributor in Egypt. Khalid Osir doesn’t just help fund archaeological projects - he also donates money to health and agricultural causes. He’s a popular man.’ A small frown. ‘Even if he chooses to live in a Swiss tax haven rather than his own country.’

Hamdi made a theatrical shrug of disgust. ‘Now she is accusing Khalid Osir of being a thief. Who next, the president?’

Assad had his own questions. ‘Why would they only take the zodiac? The Hall’s other contents would be worth hundreds of millions of dollars on the black market.’

‘They don’t just want the zodiac for its monetary value,’ said Nina. She switched programs on the laptop connected to the television, bringing up the picture Macy had taken of the fourth papyrus. ‘This scroll - the one the Osirian Temple kept from the IHA - says the zodiac is the key to finding the Pyramid of Osiris. That’s their real objective - the pyramid’s treasures.’

Hamdi laughed sarcastically. ‘The Pyramid of Osiris? Minister, Ismail, why are you even listening to this woman? It’s a myth, a fantasy, no more real than the Garden of Eden.’ He shot Nina a malevolent smirk. ‘Anyone who believes it is real is obviously deranged.’

‘Well, I did think the guy you’re taking bribes from seemed a bit nuts,’ Nina fired back.

Hamdi rose to his full height. ‘False, baseless, slanderous accusations! In front of unimpeachable witnesses, no less. Dr Wilde, I will see you in court.’

‘Oh, sit down, Iabi,’ grumbled Assad. Hamdi looked offended, but obeyed his boss. ‘Dr Wilde, I would recommend that you don’t make any more accusations without proof. We will investigate this outrage, and those responsible will be punished, you can be sure of that. But we will not jump to any conclusions without evidence.’

‘But while you’re getting it, they’ll have nicked everything in the Pyramid of Osiris that’s not nailed down, then come back for the nails,’ Eddie said.

Siddig put both hands firmly on his desk. ‘Everyone involved in this robbery will be found and brought to justice.’ His stern gaze passed over everybody before him, finishing on Nina - though, she was pleased to notice, pausing for a moment on Hamdi. ‘Everyone. Now, go. Dr Assad, we have a lot of work to do.’

Hamdi waved an angry hand at Nina, Eddie and Macy. ‘You aren’t going to keep them in custody?’

‘If I had everybody arrested who might possibly have been involved in this,’ the minister snapped, ‘I would be arresting a lot of people. Including you! As Dr Wilde pointed out, she has only been in Egypt since yesterday, but digging this tunnel would have taken weeks. Now get out, all of you.’

He waved a dismissive hand towards the door. Everyone filed for the exit - except Macy, who instead approached the desk, hands held demurely in front of her. ‘Excuse me? Minister?’

Siddig glared up at her, but his face quickly softened at the sight of her wide-eyed and hopeful expression. ‘What can I do for you, young lady?’

She looked across at the laptop, next to various items from the Hall of Records - and her camera. ‘I was wondering if it would be possible for me to have my camera back?’

‘I’m afraid it’s evidence,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Oh.’ Her lips quivered into a small, sad pout. ‘It’s just that it’s got all the pictures and videos that I took for my grandparents. They were from Egypt originally, and they wanted to see what the country was like today . . .’

‘I’m sorry,’ Siddig repeated, ‘but I can’t return it until the investigation has finished.’ He thought for a moment. ‘But I suppose we could make a copy of the memory card. For your grandparents.’

Macy gave him a delighted smile. ‘Oh, that would be awesome! Thank you, Mr Siddig, thank you so much!’

‘I’ll have somebody get the copy to you, Miss Sharif. Now, if you’ll excuse us?’

‘Thank you,’ Macy said again, beaming as she backed away. ‘You’re a really cool guy.’ Siddig’s reaction suggested it was not a compliment he generally heard, but he took it with good grace.

‘What was that about?’ Nina hissed as Macy caught up with her and Eddie outside.

Macy smiled smugly. ‘We’ve still got the zo-di-aaaac,’ she sang. ‘Well, on video, anyway.’

‘So we have,’ Nina realised. A straight copy of the camera’s memory would duplicate all its contents - including the video of the zodiac’s last piece. ‘But how did you know he’d go for it?’

‘Didn’t you see the photos of the kids on his desk? He’s way too old for them to be his. So I figured he was a grandpa - and I played the “grandkid doing something nice for her grandparents” card. Although it didn’t totally work, because I really did want my camera back! But at least we’ve got something.’

‘I don’t know how much it’ll help, though,’ said Nina. ‘The zodiac’s probably out of the country by now. And we’ve only seen one piece of it - they’ve got the whole thing. If it really is a way to find the Pyramid of Osiris, they’re the only ones who’ll be able to use it.’

‘Hey, hey,’ Eddie chided. ‘I thought you were going to pack it in with the pessimism? Look at it this way - you found the Hall of Records, and we just walked out of there without getting thrown in jail. Plus, you visited the pyramids. This is like a holiday for you!’

She smiled a little. ‘Maybe. But I don’t know what we can do next, even with a video of the zodiac.’

‘They were talking - maybe they said where they were taking it,’ Macy suggested.

‘Talking in Arabic,’ Nina reminded her. ‘And anyway, we couldn’t hear them over the saw.’

Eddie looked thoughtful. ‘I know someone who might be able to help with that.’

‘Nina!’ said Karima Farran, hugging her. ‘It’s wonderful to see you again. Though I did see you not long ago - on the news.’

Nina returned the Jordanian woman’s embrace. ‘Yeah, that wasn’t exactly planned. I’ve had some bad experiences with the media lately.’

Karima was one of what Nina had jokingly come to call Eddie’s ‘international girlfriends’, contacts from his time as a soldier and freelance contractor who always seemed to share certain characteristics: a great loyalty to Eddie . . . and equally great physical beauty. This last had in the past caused her the occasional pang of jealousy, but she had trusted him enough to accept that his friends were indeed just friends - whatever he might suggest otherwise with his cheeky innuendoes.

His recent dissembling about Amy in New York had made the joke considerably less amusing, but though Karima was even by ‘international girlfriend’ standards quite stunningly attractive, Nina saw that she had no cause to suspect Eddie of any improprieties, as she had made the short flight from Amman to Cairo accompanied by a man of her own. ‘This is my boyf—my fiancé, Radi Bashir. Rad for short,’ Karima said, ushering forward a tall, strikingly handsome Arab man with a mane of glossy black hair. Eddie and Nina shook his hand. ‘I finally got him to make a commitment - by using you two as an example.’

‘She wore me down,’ said Rad in mock complaint, an Oxbridge tinge to his accent. ‘ “Eddie and Nina” this, “Eddie and Nina” that. Although it was your trip into Syria with her that really forced me to pop the question - it was the only way I could think of to keep her out of trouble!’

Eddie laughed. ‘Trust me, mate - it doesn’t work.’

‘Although you seem to have got ahead of us again,’ said Karima, regarding Eddie’s wedding ring before grinning mischievously at him. ‘And for some reason, I missed the ceremony. Invitation lost in the mail, perhaps?’

‘It was . . . kinda short notice,’ Nina admitted.

‘No notice,’ said Eddie, nodding.

‘So you eloped?’ Karima said. ‘How romantic.’

Nina snorted. ‘Yeah, nothing says romance like a cab ride to the Justice of the Peace in Greenwich, Connecticut. But congratulations on getting engaged, anyway.’

‘And congratulations on your marriage. Even if they’re a little late.’ Karima looked at Macy. ‘But I take it there’s more going on than just you turning up inside a five-thousand-year-old chamber under the Sphinx?’ She arched an eyebrow. ‘Strange. With anyone else, that would sound bizarre. With you, it’s almost normal.’

Nina completed the introductions. ‘Macy’s why we’re here,’ she told Karima and Rad. ‘She found out about the attempt to rob the Hall of Records.’ She held up a DVD-R; Siddig had, true to his word, provided a copy of the memory card’s contents. ‘There’s a video on here of the actual robbery.’

Rad’s eyes lit up, but Karima sternly said something in Arabic that immediately dampened his enthusiasm. ‘He works for a news network,’ she told Nina, giving Rad a look that was both teasing and warning. ‘I just told him that no, he can’t have it as an exclusive.’

‘Great. So, Rad, what can you do to help us?’

Rad reached into his messenger bag, taking out a travel-scuffed Apple laptop. He opened it, revealing a keyboard covered with sticky labels in different colours: shortcuts for professional video-editing software. He grinned. ‘The question is: what can’t I do?’

Rad set up shop in a quiet corner of the hotel bar, the others peering over his shoulders as he worked. ‘I know my cologne is irresistible,’ he said, ‘but could I have a little more space?’

‘Sorry,’ Nina said, retreating slightly, but still anxious to discover what hidden secrets the recording might hold. So far, Rad’s efforts to enhance the image had met with limited success; the video mode on Macy’s camera had been designed with small Internet-friendly clips in mind, not high definition footage. Shaban and Hamdi were visible only from behind or with glare obscuring their features - and, as Eddie remarked, real life wasn’t like an episode of CSI: Miami. No matter how powerful the software and how clever its user, digital information couldn’t be extracted if it was never there in the first place.

Rad was having more luck with the audio, though. Wearing earphones, he looped the recording, adjusting filters with each pass. ‘The saw’s making a fairly constant sound,’ he explained, pointing at a jittering waveform display in one window. ‘I won’t be able to get rid of it completely, but I can tone it down enough to hear the dialogue.’

Karima leaned closer. ‘Let me listen.’

Rad removed one of the earphones and passed it to her. She ran her thumb round its edge before putting it in her own ear. ‘I saw that,’ Rad said.

‘What?’

‘You just wiped my earbud.’

‘I don’t want your wax in my ear.’

‘I do not have waxy ears!’

‘You sound married already,’ Eddie said, sharing a grin with Nina. ‘So what are they saying?’

Karima translated what was being said by the two men as Rad replayed the filtered recording. ‘The one on the right, Hamdi, is worried about how long it will take to clean up the Hall of Records. If there’s any suspicion, it might fall on him . . . He’s just complaining.’ The playback continued for several more seconds without further commentary.

‘What’s he saying now?’ Eddie asked.

‘Still complaining!’ Another pause, then: ‘Oh, now they’re talking about the Pyramid of Osiris. The other man, Shaban - he says it will definitely lead them to it. They . . . I can’t hear properly,’ she said, the waveform display jumping as the noise of the machinery spiked. ‘Rad, wind it back. It’s . . . something about planets and constellations, but it’s very hard to make out. He wants to compare them to something.’

Rad rewound the recording again. Karima frowned, frustrated. ‘There’s too much noise, but I think he wants to compare the zodiac to the constellation of . . . Dendera?’

‘There’s no constellation called Dendera,’ said Eddie. ‘Least not that I’ve heard of.’

‘Dendera’s not a constellation,’ Macy said. ‘It’s a place - it used to be a provincial capital of Upper Egypt. The Temple of Hathor’s there . . .’

She tailed off, realisation dawning, but Nina was a step ahead. ‘He’s not talking about Dendera the place - he means the Dendera zodiac!’

‘What’s the Dendera zodiac?’ Eddie asked.

Macy darted in before Nina could answer. ‘It’s a star map on the ceiling of the Temple of Hathor.’

‘At least, it was on the temple ceiling,’ Nina added. ‘There’s a replica there now; the original was taken - well, stolen - by Napoleon in the 1790s.’

Rad paused the recording. ‘So they’re going to Dendera? You might still be able to catch them.’

Nina shook her head. ‘No. The replica’s a close copy, but it’s not exact. They’ll want to compare the Sphinx zodiac to the original.’

‘Where’s that?’ said Eddie.

She smiled. ‘You want to see some art?’

10

Paris

‘Been a while since we were here last,’ said Eddie as he, Nina and Macy crossed the Cour Napoléon, the central courtyard of the Louvre. ‘Must be, what? Three and a half years?’

‘God, where did the time go?’ Nina sighed.

They passed the 72-foot-high glass and aluminium pyramid at the courtyard’s heart and continued to the ornate Sully Wing beyond. There were more security guards than on her previous visit; a spate of high-profile art thefts around the world in recent months had prompted the Louvre to pre-emptively deter the robbers from trying anything in Paris. ‘Okay, so we want room 12a in the Egyptian bit,’ Eddie said, unfolding a tourist guide. ‘Typical. It’s right round the far bloody side. So let’s see, right there, then left there, then straight on through . . .’

‘Eddie, we are not just going to charge through the Louvre, look at one thing and then walk out again,’ Nina insisted.

‘Yeah, but you’ve already seen the Mona Lisa, so it’s not like you’ll be missing anything.’ He winked at Macy to show he was just winding up his wife - and succeeding. ‘Anyway, Shaban and his mates are probably halfway to the Pyramid of Osiris. We don’t have time to play art critics.’

‘Philistine,’ Nina sniffed, but saw his point. The great museum’s treasures would still be here the next time she visited Paris, but those inside the Pyramid of Osiris would be gone for ever if the Osirian Temple reached it first.

But she was still able to take in some of the exhibits along the way, the halls lined with splendid displays of Egyptian antiquities ranging from simple papyrus scrolls to full-sized statues and carved temple columns. She took small revenge on Eddie by stopping to examine various items, forcing him to come back for her with increasing impatience each time.

Eventually, though, her curiosity about the importance of the Dendera zodiac drew her to it like a magnet. Room 12a was a small antechamber off one of the main halls. At one end of the room was a sandstone relief from the Temple of Amun at Karnak, but it was what waited at the other end - or rather, above it - that caught their attention.

‘That’s a fancier decoration than anything at Home Depot,’ said Eddie.

Nina tipped her head back to take in the sight. The Dendera zodiac was a slab of pale brown stone behind glass some nine feet above them, lit to pick out the detail carved into it. It was larger than the zodiac in the Hall of Records, but the stylised figures of the constellations were arranged in the same way around the central pole of the sky.

‘Well, I can see Leo and Scorpio,’ Eddie said, indicating the forms of a lion and a scorpion, ‘but I don’t recognise a lot of ’em. I can’t even see the Plough.’

‘It’s there,’ said Macy, pointing at a shape slightly off the centre.

‘What, the leg of lamb?’

‘That’s what the ancient Egyptians thought it looked like,’ Nina said. ‘But pretty much all the major constellations - Libra, Taurus, Aries - are there, just in slightly different forms. The modern western zodiac was taken more or less directly from the Egyptian one, with a few name changes.’ She pointed up at a particular figure. ‘Orion, for one. The Egyptians knew him as someone else, a major figure from their mythology. See if you can guess who.’

Eddie took a stab. ‘Osiris?’

‘Ding! Ten points.’

Macy took out a colour printout of the section of the zodiac Nina had captured on video. Rad had enhanced it as best he could, providing two versions - a straight blow-up of the video frame, and a copy in which he had adjusted the perspective in Photoshop to make it look as it would viewed from directly below. The low quality of the original image meant that both pictures lacked detail, but the Sphinx zodiac’s painted figures made picking them out an easier task.

She compared the printout to the zodiac overhead. ‘They’re pretty close, but there are some differences. This red circle here, it’s not on the one from Dendera.’

‘If it’s red, it’s probably meant to represent Mars,’ Nina realised. ‘I don’t know how much the positions of the constellations would change over a few thousand years, but the planets would be in different places after just a few weeks. It’s how you can work out the date when a particular zodiac was made - if Mars is in Aquarius, Venus is in Capricorn and so on, you can use a computer to list all the times when the planets were in that exact configuration.’

Eddie looked at the printout, then back up at the ceiling, a thoughtful expression forming. Nina was about to ask what he’d noticed when Macy snapped her fingers. ‘Oh, oh! This is different.’

She tapped a figure on the printout, offset from the lighter sweep of the Milky Way against the dark background. ‘This guy - I think it’s Osiris again. Same colour as his other constellation - green.’

‘Osiris was green?’ said Eddie. ‘Was he a Vulcan or something?’

‘Green was the colour the Egyptians associated with new life,’ said Macy. ‘But this guy,’ she pointed at the figure again, ‘he’s not on the big zodiac.’

Nina looked more closely. ‘Is that something next to him?’ Beside the second, smaller Osiris was a little yellow-orange shape.

‘Another planet?’

‘I dunno . . .’ Even in low resolution the symbol of Mars was clearly circular, whereas this was distinctly angular.

Three angles. A triangle.

A pyramid.

‘No way,’ gasped Macy, coming to the same conclusion as Nina. ‘No. Fu—’ She gave Nina an embarrassed look.

‘It’s okay,’ Eddie said, grinning. ‘You can swear.’

‘King. Way! Macy finished. ‘That’s the Pyramid of Osiris!’

‘It must be,’ said Nina, looking to the ceiling for confirmation. Though the paint on the Dendera zodiac had long since flaked away, the carvings remained in perfect clarity . . . and there was no trace of either the additional figure of Osiris or the small triangle on the relief above. ‘When the position of the stars overhead exactly matches what’s shown on the Sphinx zodiac, you’re at the location of the Pyramid of Osiris!’ She noticed Eddie shaking his head. ‘What?’

‘Doesn’t work like that,’ he said. ‘Yeah, you can use the stars to navigate. But you can’t just look up, compare what you’re looking at to a star map, and know if you’re in the right spot or not - not without a sextant and an almanac with all the star positions on that day of the year.’

Nina’s excitement evaporated. ‘Oh.’

‘But that’s not the only thing. The zodiac they nicked from the Sphinx, they think it’s a map, right?’

‘Right . . .’ Nina said, unsure where he was heading.

‘But like I said, it can’t be just a star map, so it’s got to be some other kind of map.’ He looked up at the ceiling. ‘Problem is, this ain’t exactly portable, is it? So when you go out to find the pyramid, you’ll need to make a copy. Only when you do . . .’ He grinned lopsidedly. ‘This’ll freak you out. Got a pen and paper?’

Macy produced a ballpoint and notepad and held them out to him, but he shook his head again. ‘No, Nina, you try this. I want to see your face when you work it out.’

More puzzled than ever, Nina took the proffered items. ‘Okay,’ said Eddie, ‘now hold it upside down, right above your head, and draw the shape of the room.’

Tilting back, Nina drew a rectangle on the page above her. ‘All right, now what?’

He went to the room’s empty end. ‘Say this is the north wall. Write north on your map - but keep it held upside down.’

She did so, on her drawing marking the wall he was facing with an N. ‘If that’s north, then obviously the opposite end’s south,’ he said. ‘So write that too. Now,’ he raised his right arm and pointed at the wall to that side, ‘that means this wall’s east, and the last one’s west. Okay?’

‘Yeah, got that,’ said Nina, adding the appropriate letters.

Eddie turned back to her with an expectant smile. He turned clockwise, pointing at each wall in turn. ‘North, east, south, west - “Never Eat Shredded Wheat”. Matches what you’ve just drawn, right?’

‘Yes, and can I look down now? My neck’s starting to crick.’

‘Yeah, sure.’ With relief, she brought down the notebook. ‘Okay, this is the freaky part. Turn your map so that your north’s pointing at the north wall.’ She did. ‘Now, what’s wrong with your picture?’

Nina stared at her drawing, just a rectangle with a letter against each side, not sure what she was meant to be seeing . . . until it struck her like a slap to the forehead. ‘Hey!’ North was north, and south was south - but on her crude map, east and west had reversed positions from reality, east on the left of the page and west on the right. ‘That’s . . . that’s just weird.’

‘Told you it was freaky,’ said Eddie. ‘Mac showed me that when I was doing navigation training. It’s one of those things that’s so obvious, you never even think about it until somebody points it out.’

Macy looked at Nina’s drawing. ‘I don’t get it.’

He passed the notebook and pen to her. ‘Go on, try it for yourself.’

‘So how does that help us find the Pyramid of Osiris?’ Nina asked as Macy bent backwards and started drawing.

‘To be honest, love? Not a fucking clue.’ They both smiled. ‘It just means that the zodiac they nicked isn’t a straightforward map. Shaban and his lot might have a job figuring it out even with the whole thing to look at.’

‘Let’s hope so.’

Macy lowered the notebook, looking between it and the walls with dawning comprehension. ‘So east and west swap round when you look up or down . . . That is so wild.’

‘Yeah, see?’ Eddie said. ‘Not such a boring old fart now, am I?’

‘I never said you were boring!’ she objected.

He grunted, but any further comment was cut off as an officious man in a tweedy suit came to the doorway, speaking in rapid-fire, supercilious French.

‘Sorry, mate,’ said Eddie, even though he and Nina were fluent enough to get the gist of what he was saying. ‘English. Well, I am. They’re American.’

‘English and American. I see. I hope you are enjoying your visit to the Louvre,’ the man said, manifestly not caring whether they were or not. ‘But I am afraid I must ask you to leave this room. A VIP has requested to view the Dendera zodiac in private.’

‘Oh, a VIP!’ said Eddie with exaggerated brightness. ‘Well, of course we’ll shift out! Don’t want a VIP to have to share the room with any common people, do we?’

‘Good God, no,’ Nina added, adopting a haughty tone. ‘We shall most certainly take our leave before we sully the nasal passages of our betters with our noxious emanations!’ She linked arms with Eddie, and as one they pivoted to face the exit.

The museum official was unamused, even less so by Macy’s fit of the giggles. ‘I apologise for the inconvenience,’ he said, mouth a narrow line, before addressing someone outside.

Still arm in arm, unable to contain their smiles, Nina and Eddie went into the main hall.

The smiles vanished instantly as they found themselves facing Sebak Shaban and Bobby Diamondback.

11

‘Ay up,’ said Eddie, first to recover from the foursome’s mutual shock. ‘Fancy meeting you ’ere.’

Diamondback’s hand whipped into his snakeskin jacket, but a sharp look from Shaban froze it.

‘Right, smart move,’ Nina said, trying to mask her nervousness. ‘This isn’t The Da Vinci Code. You can’t just do, y’know, stuff in the middle of the Louvre - in broad daylight in front of witnesses, no less.’

The official looked dubiously back and forth between the two groups. ‘Do you know each other?’

‘We haven’t been formally introduced,’ Nina said with cold sarcasm. ‘But yeah, we know each other. Mr Shaban, I believe. And your charming friend.’

‘Bobby Diamondback,’ drawled Shaban’s companion. ‘Sorry I missed y’all earlier. If you catch my drift.’

‘Diamondback?’ said Eddie mockingly. ‘Bollocks! There’s no way that’s your real name.’

Diamondback’s eyes creased into slits. ‘I’m Cherokee Indian, asshole.’

‘What, one sixty-fourth? You’re whiter than I am! And Puff Adder’d suit you better.’

‘Y’know,’ said Diamondback, shaking his head, ‘you oughta watch your mouth when you’re talkin’ to a Marine. It might get shut. Permanent, like.’

‘No proper Marine’d let their hair get into that state,’ Eddie replied, unimpressed by either the American’s threat or his greasy mullet. ‘Dishonourable discharge, was it?’

‘Eddie, honey,’ said Nina through a strained grin, ‘can you please stop provoking the man?’

‘I know you, of course, Dr Wilde,’ said Shaban. ‘In fact, after your little stunt at the Sphinx, I think a good part of the world knows you.’ The official blinked, recognising her. ‘And Miss Sharif too,’ the Egyptian added as Macy peered out of the antechamber. ‘All of you here together. How convenient.’

‘Why are we still here?’ Macy asked Nina in a fearful whisper.

Shaban’s eyes narrowed intently. ‘Why are you here, Dr Wilde?’

‘The same reason as you, I’m guessing.’ Her gaze flicked down; under one arm, he carried a leather-bound folder that she imagined contained photos of the reassembled zodiac. ‘A keen interest in ancient astrology.’

His eyes tightened still further. ‘Very keen.’

‘I’m sure. But we really should be going. See you - well, not soon at all, I hope.’

‘Tell you what,’ said Diamondback, his hand once again edging into his jacket, ‘how ’bout I show you the way out?’

‘Tell you what,’ Eddie replied, doing the same and hoping Diamondback couldn’t tell that he wasn’t armed, ‘how about you don’t?’

‘It’s all right, Bobby,’ said Shaban, touching his arm. ‘Stay with me. I’m sure we’ll meet them again. Hopefully,’ a small smile, genuine but nasty, ‘in less formal surroundings.’

‘Can’t wait,’ said Eddie, still holding his hand near his non-existent gun. He and Nina backed away, Macy scurrying into cover behind them. Shaban and Diamondback stood like statues, watching as they reached a short flight of stairs leading down to the next room. ‘Okay, leg it!’

They ran through the underground room - somewhat ironically, a display of items relating to Osiris - then clattered back up more stairs into a chamber full of mummies, attracting surprised looks from the other visitors. Eddie looked back. ‘He’s not following, but I bet he’s already calling for a goon squad.’ He flapped open the tourist map. ‘Where’s the nearest bloody exit?’

They found the way out, emerging on the Place du Louvre to the museum’s east. ‘Christ, I really need to buy a new gun,’ Eddie complained.

Nina, meanwhile, was more interested in a car parked in a restricted zone nearby - a large black Mercedes SUV with tinted windows. ‘Think that’s Shaban’s car?’

‘Maybe,’ Eddie said as he led the two women across the street. ‘Why? Want to key it?’

‘No, but I was thinking we should follow it.’

‘We just got away from the guy, and now you want to meet him again?’ Macy asked.

‘We can’t find the Pyramid of Osiris without seeing the complete zodiac,’ said Nina. ‘And Shaban’s got it.’

They took cover round a corner. Nina looked back. No sign of anyone coming after them.

‘It might not even be his car,’ Eddie pointed out.

‘Well, then we’re screwed. But parking on the lines is kind of a VIPy thing to do, so let’s wait and see.’

As it turned out, it was Shaban’s car. About ten minutes later, the scar-faced Egyptian emerged from the Louvre. He and Diamondback entered the Mercedes.

‘You think he figured out how to find the pyramid?’ Macy wondered.

‘Only one way to find out,’ Nina said. The SUV pulled away. She hurried to the kerb and raised a hand. ‘Taxi!’

‘Bloody hell,’ said Eddie, peering along the narrow street. ‘Didn’t realise this thing was big in France as well.’

Nina, Eddie and Macy had followed Shaban’s SUV across Paris in a taxi - after first convincing its driver that their request to ‘Suivez cette voiture!’ wasn’t une blague. The Mercedes pulled up outside a building bearing the logo of the Osirian Temple - which, like its counterpart in New York when Eddie had visited it with Grant Thorn, had a sizeable and excited crowd outside.

‘All these people are here just to see this guy Osir?’ Macy asked in disbelief. ‘I know he used to be a movie star, but come on!’

Nina told the taxi driver to pull over. ‘Maybe you should make up your own religion too and see what happens.’

Macy considered it. ‘Could all my followers be, like, buff shirtless firefighters? Young ones, obviously.’

‘Y’know, I think that’s a religion I’d like to start.’

‘Oi,’ Eddie growled.

They got out and watched as Shaban and Diamondback left their vehicle, green-blazered men clearing a path to the building’s entrance. Once they were inside, Nina led the way to the fringe of the crowd.

‘So now what?’ Eddie asked. ‘Wait for them to come out again?’

‘I don’t know,’ Nina admitted. ‘I think we should stick close to them, though.’ She regarded the crowd. ‘And I have to admit, I’m kinda curious about this whole Osirian Temple thing - and why Osir’s going to such lengths to find the Pyramid of Osiris. We should try to get inside.’

‘You do remember that they know what we look like?’

‘So we’ll sit at the back. There must be three hundred people here - if we keep our heads down, Shaban and his pal won’t see us. And nobody else knows who we are.’

‘Er, Dr Wilde,’ Macy pointed out, ‘you were just on TV in front of millions of people. And you were already kinda famous before that.’

Nina looked at the nearby shops. ‘Okay, maybe if we had disguises . . .’

‘These are crap disguises,’ whispered Eddie as he and Nina found seats on the very back row of the Egyptian-styled hall, watched over by two large statues of Osiris flanking the entrance.

‘Well, I’m sorry that we weren’t in Paris’s fancy dress quarter,’ Nina hissed back. All they had been able to find to hide their faces were baseball caps with J’aime Paris written above the bill.

The buzz of excitement around them rose to a roar. The crowd stood and applauded as Khalid Osir strode on to the stage at the far end of the hall, basking in the adulation of his followers. Behind him, other senior members of the Osirian Temple lined up, Shaban and Diamondback among them. Eddie tugged his hat lower. ‘Macy had the right idea staying outside . . .’

‘Merci, merci,’ Osir said at last. ‘Bonjour, et bienvenue! Malheureusement, mon français est terrible,’ his deliberately stilted pronunciation raised a laugh from the crowd, ‘so I will have to speak through an interpreter!’ He nodded to a man on the stage, who stepped forward and repeated his words in French, to more laughter.

He gestured, and the audience sat. The others on the stage, with the exception of the interpreter, did the same. ‘Thank you all for coming,’ said Osir. ‘May the light of the sun-god Ra bless you all!’

‘May the spirit of Osiris protect and strengthen you!’ the crowd replied, some in English, others in French.

‘It is truly a great pleasure to see so many people here today. Our church gains strength with each new follower - and the world will be made a better place by the wisdom of Osiris!’

The audience kept cheering as he continued his oratory. Nina had to admit that while she thought his ‘church’ was utter nonsense, Osir himself was a magnetic performer - had he chosen to remain an actor, she didn’t doubt that he could easily have made a big name for himself in Hollywood.

On the other hand, she thought, by having the Osirian Temple officially recognised as a religion, he had achieved something that even Hollywood’s A-list could not - tax exemption. Maybe there was method to his madness after all.

‘We praise you, O Osiris!’ cried Osir, raising his hands. The congregation startled Nina by unexpectedly also chanting ‘Osiris!’ ‘Osiris, the lord of eternity, the judge of all souls, the great one who awaits us in the land of the dead beyond Abydos! O Osiris!’

‘Osiris!’ the crowd chanted again. This time, Nina and Eddie got the idea and half-heartedly joined in.

‘The gods of the sky sing your praises, and the gods of the Underworld bow down before you. You are the provider of the divine bread that will grant immortality to all your followers in this life and the next. You are the protector against the evil of Set, the destroyer. O Osiris!’

‘Osiris!’

‘Greatest of all men and all gods, show us the path to life everlasting! Guide us safely through the perils of the Underworld to your judgement! We praise you, O Osiris!’

The crowd chanted the god’s name, each repetition growing in volume and passion. On the stage, Osir’s eyes were closed; whether or not he really believed in what he was saying Nina couldn’t tell, but he had the look of a theatre actor receiving the greatest ovation of his life.

The same couldn’t be said of his brother, though. Shaban’s face was cold, tight, clenched with suppressed anger. Eddie had noticed too. ‘What’s his problem?’

‘Dunno,’ Nina replied, ‘but there’s definitely a problem with that prayer.’

‘How come?’

‘It’s like a simplified - really simplified - version of a real Egyptian prayer, dumbed down. And the mythology’s wrong, too. Set wasn’t a nice guy, but he wasn’t the ancient Egyptian equivalent of Satan either.’

Osir lowered his hands. The tumult died down. ‘Who’s Set?’ Eddie asked.

‘Osiris’s brother - and murderer. He was jealous of him, and wanted to take his kingdom. But he was also the champion of Ra, the sun-god, just as important a part of the Egyptian pantheon as Osiris - and in some parts of the country he was actually worshipped over Osiris.’ The middle-aged woman to Eddie’s other side irritably shushed her.

Osir spoke again, no longer with the voice of a preacher, but more like a salesman. ‘My friends, following the guidance of Osiris will bring you life everlasting. And I am here today to tell you that as the voice of the spirit of Osiris, I have channelled his wisdom once more. His words are my words, and now they shall be your words too. The twelfth volume of the Book of Osiris is now finished, and all his followers must now take it to their homes, and to their hearts.’

‘Is this a sermon or an informercial?’ Nina asked quietly as Osir continued what was rapidly turning into a sales pitch. But the audience was lapping it up, all but holding out their credit cards. She wasn’t sure what she found more appalling - Osir’s almost transparent hucksterism, or that everyone seemed to be falling for it.

‘All the books, and more, will be available to you before you leave the temple today,’ said Osir. He smiled. ‘And now, it is time for something I know you have been waiting for - the chance to ask me personally any questions you have about the teachings of Osiris!’ A good proportion of the congregation responded by thrusting their hands into the air. Osir laughed. ‘I wish I had the time to answer each and every one of you,’ he said. ‘But unfortunately, I soon have to return to the Osirian Temple’s headquarters to take care of matters there, then after that I will be travelling on to Monaco to spread the word at the grand prix - and I hope you will all be cheering Team Osiris to a win!’

Those cultists who were apparently also motor racing fans cheered. Shaban looked irritated, but he remained silent as Osir waved them down. ‘Thank you, thank you. So now, I will send Gerard among you,’ he nodded to the translator, ‘for your questions.’

Gerard moved down the central aisle, scanning the field of waving hands before extending a microphone to a young and pretty dark-haired woman. She seemed almost overcome, stuttering out a question in French. The translator delivered it to Osir: ‘The thought of the journey through the Underworld frightens me. What happens if I fall to the guardians before I reach Osiris?’

Osir gave her a reassuring smile. ‘There is nothing to fear in the Underworld for those who truly follow the words of Osiris. The guardians can only harm the unprepared or the unworthy.’ The smile widened, his dark eyes gleaming. ‘If you come to Switzerland for my personal teachings, I will show you everything you need to reach Osiris, and more besides.’

‘Did he just try to chat her up?’ Eddie whispered as the young woman gave her heartfelt thanks.

‘I think he did,’ said Nina. ‘ “Personal teachings”, my ass.’

‘Shhhh!’ the woman next to Eddie hissed.

The translator picked the next questioner, another young, attractive woman, though this time a blonde. The next was also a blonde, followed by a brunette. ‘I think I’m seeing a pattern,’ Nina said.

Eddie shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and admiration. ‘Jesus. He’s figured out the ultimate bloke fantasy - how to get rich and have hot women worship you like a god.’ His grin froze as Nina raised her hand. ‘What’re you doing?’

‘I’ve got a question.’ Osir’s mangling of Egyptian mythology for personal gain had made her increasingly annoyed on a professional level - but she was also curious about how seriously his followers took their religion. Was it just some transitory New Age nonsense to fill a void in their lives for a time before they moved on to the next new thing . . . or did they genuinely, deeply believe it?

The translator had almost reached the back of the room, still focused on finding one particular kind of questioner - and Nina fit the bill. He held out the microphone to her.

‘We’re supposed to be inconspic—oh, for Christ’s sake,’ Eddie muttered, hiding his face beneath his baseball cap.

‘I, ah, I have a question?’ Nina said, raising the pitch of her voice to bimbo level. She regarded Osir on the stage - but also watched Shaban and Diamondback for any signs of recognition. ‘I was wondering how we can have eternal life in both this world and the next, when to get into the next life we kinda have to die in this one?’ Faces turned to her, the crowd’s disdain almost physical.

From Osir’s condescending smile and the ease with which he replied, it was a question to which he had long since devised a stock answer. ‘Both lives are the same life,’ he said. ‘As one ends, another begins, as long as Osiris has judged you worthy of life everlasting. The next life follows on from this one without interruption.’ His salesman voice returned. ‘These things are taught in the first volume of the Book of Osiris. If you have not yet read it, then copies are available outside.’ There was a ripple of mocking laughter - aimed not at the cult leader, but at Nina. The church clearly had little patience for those who weren’t up to speed on its scripture.

Gerard was about to back away when Nina spoke again. ‘And I have a question about mythology,’ she said in her normal voice, edged with irritation at being patronised. ‘How do you reconcile your interpretation of the Osiris story with the accepted Egyptian myths? You know, the part where Osiris wasn’t actually granted immortality until after he died and was briefly resurrected by Isis only for Set to cut him into fourteen pieces, and then had his severed penis eaten by a fish?’

Hostile murmurs ran through the crowd. On stage, Shaban’s eyes suddenly bugged as he realised who was speaking. ‘Time to go,’ Eddie muttered.

Osir was ready to deliver another canned reply, but looked round as Shaban said something. He raised his eyebrows. ‘We have a surprise guest: Dr Nina Wilde. I’m sure you all saw her unexpected television appearance a few nights ago.’

‘Hello, hi,’ said Nina with a sarcastic wave as she and Eddie pushed their way to the aisle. Behind Osir, Diamondback quickly made his way from the stage. ‘Okay, so if you don’t want to talk about the penis thing, how about the Osirian Temple’s connection with the theft of the zodiac from under the Sphinx, and why you’re looking for the Pyramid of Osiris?’

‘I have no idea what you mean, Dr Wilde,’ said Osir, though his acting skills couldn’t conceal his surprise at her use of the term.

Behind him, Shaban stood, signalling to the green-blazered men at the rear of the room before calling out to the congregation. ‘Our temple has been defiled by unbelievers! Are you all going to take this insult?’

Some of the cultists began to boo, several standing with enraged faces. Osir looked concerned. ‘Wait, there is no need for anger,’ he began, but the men ignored him, shoving towards the aisle in response to Shaban.

‘Definitely time to go,’ said Eddie. He turned to the exit, seeing the greenjackets closing ranks. ‘Bollocks! You would have to get mouthy, wouldn’t you?’

‘Okay, not my smartest idea ever,’ Nina admitted. She now had the answer to her question of how seriously Osir’s followers took their religion - very.

Eddie looked towards the stage. Diamondback, marching down the aisle, was almost certainly armed - but there were now several people between him and them. If they could get outside before he had a clear aim . . .

One of the green-blazered men reached out to grab him—

‘Go!’ Eddie shouted, smashing a fist into his jaw.

Nina jumped the falling man and ran for the door. Another man clawed at her - but caught only her hat, pulling it from her head. She lashed out, hitting him hard on one cheek, and kicked open the door. The room outside was set up with display tables, loaded with books and DVDs and pyramidal geegaws. The people at the stalls jumped back in surprise as she burst in. ‘Eddie, come on!’

The man Nina had hit started after her - only to take a savage kick to the groin from Eddie’s booted foot. He collapsed with an animalistic squeal.

Someone clutched at Eddie’s leather jacket, pulling him back. He punched the man’s face, red blood squirting on to his green blazer. The man tumbled, hitting the statue of Osiris beside the door - and falling through it with a splintering crack, what looked like stone turning out to be nothing more than fibreglass and plaster. The statue rocked.

Osir’s shouts for order went unheard as the cultists in the aisle reacted with fury to the desecration of the statue, running at Eddie. Diamondback charged after them.

Eddie jumped and grabbed the statue’s arm, kicking back off the door frame to pull it over. He threw himself through the open door as the nine-foot sculpture crashed down behind him and exploded into sharp-edged fragments.

The shocked cult members stopped. Diamondback barged through them, drawing his revolvers.

Nina was at the exit to the street. Eddie slammed the temple door and tipped over a table, stacks of DVDs clattering across the floor. The next stall was still being set up, a cardboard box of books half-unpacked upon it. The flat plastic tie that held it closed in transit had been cut; he grabbed it and sprinted after Nina.

The temple door crashed open. One of the men in green ploughed through it, Diamondback right behind him, guns raised—

The goon stepped on the scattered DVD cases - and fell, plastic gliding over plastic like ice beneath his foot. Diamondback couldn’t stop in time and tripped over him. One of his guns went off as he hit the ground. The stallworkers fled screaming.

Eddie ran through the wooden double doors after Nina and slammed them shut. The handles were heavy knobs of time-worn brass; he looped the plastic tie repeatedly round them and knotted it, pulling it as tight as he could.

Macy ran to them. ‘Dr Wilde! What happened?’

‘They didn’t like having their beliefs challenged,’ Nina said. She looked for the fastest escape route.

Eddie had already seen it. He whistled sharply to signal the women, hurrying to Osir’s parked limousine. The startled chauffeur took the impacts of Eddie’s fist and the road surface to his face in rapid succession as he was thrown out on to the street. ‘Come on!’

‘We’re stealing his limo?’ Macy cried.

Nina opened the rear door and shoved her inside. ‘It’s better than a cab!’ She dived in after her. ‘Eddie, go!’

Eddie floored the accelerator. The limo leapt away from the kerb, clipping the car parked in front of it as he swerved. Then they were clear.

Nina looked back, seeing the wooden doors shaking violently before the plastic tie finally broke. Diamondback ran on to the street, shouting after them - but with enough presence of mind not to open fire right outside his employer’s building on a busy thoroughfare.

Eddie powered through the Parisian streets for barely more than a minute before skidding to a stop near the entrance to an underground Métro station. ‘All out!’ he called. They abandoned the vehicle - though Macy was surprised that they ran past the station rather than into it. ‘They’ll think that’s where we went,’ he explained. ‘If les flics are all busy checking the subway stations, they won’t be looking for us in a Starbucks round the corner.’

‘You’re pretty good at this stuff, aren’t you?’ said Macy with a certain amount of admiration.

‘Not bad,’ he said, smiling as they rounded a corner to see an Internet café ahead. ‘There we go. Not a Starbucks, but near enough.’ They went inside.

A police car sped past the café a few minutes later, siren wailing, but that was the only sign of pursuit they saw. The authorities and the Osirian Temple appeared to have fallen for Eddie’s ruse. All the same, he remained tense, looking out through the front window until the noise faded. ‘I think they’ve gone,’ he finally said, turning back to Nina and Macy. They had booked time on a computer, initially so as not to attract any attention, before looking up the cult on the Internet again. ‘So, what now?’

Nina had been giving that exact question some thought. ‘Osir’s definitely got the zodiac, and he really is after the Pyramid of Osiris. You saw how he reacted when I mentioned them.’

‘Yeah, and we were bloody lucky to get out of there. I think we ought to tell the Egyptians what we’ve found out and let them handle it. It’s their zodiac, they can get it back themselves.’

‘We don’t have any proof yet,’ Nina objected. ‘It’s probably at his headquarters in Switzerland,’ she indicated the Osirian Temple’s web page on the PC’s screen, ‘but we’ll need more than that to convince the minister or Dr Assad to take any action.’

‘Whatever we do, we’ll have to do it fast,’ said Macy. ‘Otherwise they’ll find the pyramid and take everything inside it.’

‘There’s not a lot we can do to stop them, is there?’ Eddie said irritably. ‘They’re not just going to let us stroll into their HQ and take a gander at the thing.’

‘Well, obviously not,’ Macy replied, annoyed, ‘but - but you could break in!’ she went on, suddenly enthusiastic again. ‘You were like some special forces guy, weren’t you? Dr Wilde and I could cause some sort of distraction, and you could sneak in and do your ninja thing to find the zodiac—’

Nina put her fingertips to her temples. ‘Oh, shut up, Macy,’ she growled.

Macy was startled, and hurt. ‘No, really, we could—’

‘This isn’t a movie, and Eddie sure as hell isn’t a ninja. It’s a stupid idea.’ She frowned, rubbing her forehead. ‘Let me think.’

‘Speaking of stupid ideas,’ said Eddie as Macy sat back tight-lipped, ‘going into that temple and telling those nutters about the time their god had his knob chopped off was pretty fucking dim.’

Nina glared at him. ‘Right, like getting into a macho pissing contest with an armed murderer was a smart move. Way to keep out of trouble there, Eddie.’

‘Excuse bloody me,’ he cried sarcastically. ‘I’m not the one who’s looking for trouble. I didn’t decide to blow up Times Square or wreck the Sphinx or pick a fight with a load of fucking looney-tunes cultists! Quick, tell the shrinks - you’ve found a new way of getting out of a depression!’

‘They don’t like being called shrinks,’ Macy snapped.

Nina ignored her. ‘Yes, of course! Why didn’t I see it before? Obviously what I need to get me past the worst time of my life since my parents died is being chased and shot at!’

Eddie snorted in a mix of anger and dismay. ‘Oh, good to know our marriage got off to such a great start.’

‘I didn’t think you’d noticed!’ she shot back. ‘Since you’d apparently found other ways to occupy your time.’

He looked up at the ceiling, rolling his eyes. ‘For fuck’s sake! Not this again.’

‘What am I supposed to think?’ Nina demanded. ‘I find out that not only are you spending time with another woman, but you’re also lying to me about it!’

‘And I told you there’s nothing going on between me and Amy.’

‘Then why won’t you tell me what you were doing?’

He threw up his hands. ‘You know what? I was going to, even though I wanted to keep it a secret until the right time, but I’m not going to bother. It’s not like you’ve paid any attention to anyone but yourself for the past seven months, no reason you’d start now.’

‘What the hell does that mean?’ Nina demanded.

He made a sarcastic sound. ‘You’re not the only one who got fired, remember? I lost my job too. And look at all the crap I’ve had to do to support us both, working all bloody hours buying orange juice for a bunch of paranoid rich tossers while all you do is sit around and moan about moving out of your precious bloody Manhattan!’

‘I didn’t just lose a job,’ Nina snarled. ‘I lost my career, my reputation - everything! And if you can’t see why I might be a bit goddamn depressed about that, maybe you don’t know me at all!’

‘Maybe I don’t,’ he shot back. ‘I didn’t think the woman I married would be such a bloody whiner, for a start.’

‘What?’

‘You didn’t hear me going on and on about how crap everything was, did you? No, I got off my arse and actually did something about it!’

‘Oh, so the five hundred letters I wrote trying to find work didn’t count?’ she cried. ‘Maybe you think I should have gotten a job at McDonald’s!’

Macy slapped a palm on the table. ‘Okay, look! This isn’t helping. We need to find—’

‘Shut up!’ they both shouted. Macy stared at Nina, then, lips quivering, jumped up and hurried out.

‘Shit,’ said Eddie, after a moment. ‘I’d better go after her, make sure she doesn’t run straight into Diamondback or someone.’

‘You do that,’ Nina replied coldly. Eddie shook his head and followed Macy. ‘God damn it.’ She looked at the screen. Osir’s portrait beamed back at her. Nina regarded him, silently thinking.

And making a decision.

After a few minutes, Eddie and Macy returned. She still looked upset, and his expression didn’t appear to have lightened either. Nina was sure what she was about to say wouldn’t improve their moods. ‘I’ve decided what I’m going to do,’ she announced.

‘Oh, you have, have you?’ Eddie replied suspiciously.

‘That’s right. Macy’s plan wasn’t entirely stupid.’

‘Glad you think so,’ Macy said, unimpressed.

‘I’m going to Osir’s headquarters in Switzerland, like she suggested. But there won’t be any sneaking around. I’m going to give him what he needs to find the Pyramid of Osiris.’ She stood. ‘And you know something? I’m going in alone.’

12

Switzerland

Nina walked along the short road to the edge of the lake, tension churning in her stomach. A gatehouse on the shore marked the entrance to the headquarters of the Osirian Temple . . . which were not what she had imagined.

Some forty feet out from the lake’s edge was a rocky island, bordered by a sheer wall of grey stone battlements with men patrolling them. Circular towers stood higher at the corners, topped by conical roofs of bright red slate; another, larger rectangular roof above the far wall marked the castle’s Gothic keep. A drawbridge, its two halves currently raised, linked the castle to the mainland.

The whole scene, backed by a range of Alpine peaks beyond the blue lake, was almost ridiculously picturesque - with the exception of one thing that stood out as utterly incongruous. Inside the castle’s expansive courtyard, rising above the walls, was a pyramid of black glass. It was the same structure Nina had seen behind Osir in his photo on the Osirian Temple’s website.

The drawbridge’s heavy dark wood beams rose like a wall through the gatehouse archway, blocking her view of the castle beyond. To one side was an intercom, a camera regarding her glassily.

The knot in her stomach tightened. She was taking a huge risk in coming here. But she still reached up and pushed the intercom button.

‘Yes?’ said a voice from the panel’s speaker.

‘My name is Dr Nina Wilde,’ Nina said as she stared directly at the camera to make sure the guard got a good view of her face. ‘Tell Khalid Osir . . . I want to make a deal.’

‘I must admit, Dr Wilde,’ said Osir ten minutes later, ‘I’m surprised to see you again. Certainly here.’

‘I’m still a little surprised myself,’ she said, as she was escorted into a large room inside the keep. It was a museum, dedicated to a singular subject.

Osiris.

‘Why are you even talking to her?’ snapped Shaban. He had met her at the main gate, leading a squad of green-blazered men, and Nina was sure that if he had been in charge rather than Osir, he would have had her killed on the spot. ‘This is obviously a trick. Bobby can dispose of her somewhere she will never be found.’

‘You must excuse my brother,’ Osir said, giving Shaban a dismissive wave that only increased his anger. ‘He has never been one for social pleasantries.’

‘Yeah, I got that impression,’ said Nina, taking a closer look at one of the display cases. It contained an ancient papyrus scroll, carefully preserved between two sheets of glass.

Osir saw her interest. ‘I think you know what that is.’

‘The fourth page of the scrolls that led to the discovery of the Hall of Records, I’m guessing.’

‘Yes. The Osirian Temple funded an archaeological dig just beyond the Egyptian border in Gaza, which my experts - who are also my followers - thought might uncover something interesting. They were more right than I could have imagined.’

‘So you kept the final page for yourself.’

‘I had no problem with the Egyptian government taking possession of the Hall of Records. It’s a national treasure. But once I found out what was inside it,’ he gestured at the papyrus, ‘I knew it was something I had to keep for myself. Whatever the price.’ He indicated the other exhibits, which ranged from carved figurines of the ancient god to large sections of stone, seemingly cut from walls, bearing more hieroglyphs. ‘This is the greatest private collection of Osirian artefacts in the world. I’ve been collecting them for years - but I hope the collection will soon become much larger.’

‘Once you find the Pyramid of Osiris,’ said Nina.

‘Indeed. And apparently you are willing to help me do that.’

‘If she can be trusted,’ Shaban growled.

‘We’ll see. This way, Dr Wilde.’ Osir guided her towards a door. They passed a space amongst the exhibits which to Nina seemed the perfect size to accommodate the zodiac, but she had no time to remark upon it as Osir led her into the next room.

Despite the Egyptian theme to the decor, the luxurious lounge was decidedly playboyish in style, all chrome and pale wood and black leather. ‘Please, sit down,’ said Osir. Nina took a place on a plump leather couch with white sheepskin cushions and drapes. She expected Osir to sit in the chair facing her, but instead he joined her on the couch. Shaban remained standing. ‘So,’ said Osir with a smile, ‘can I get you anything?’

‘No, thank you.’

‘Then I hope you don’t mind if I have something myself.’ There was a stylish speakerphone on a glass coffee table; he pushed a button and said, ‘Fiona? My usual coffee, please.’ A glance at Shaban, who scowled and shook his head. ‘Just the one, thank you.’ He leaned back and rested an arm along the top of the couch, fingertips almost touching Nina’s shoulder. ‘Well then, Dr Wilde . . . or may I call you Nina?’

‘Sure, I guess,’ she said uncertainly.

‘Call me Khalid, if you like. Whatever makes you most comfortable.’

‘Okay . . . Khalid.’ She managed a faint smile, which Osir returned with added magnitude.

‘So, Nina. You want to offer me a deal.’ The smile was still there, but it was now businesslike. ‘I am very interested to hear it.’

‘So am I,’ Shaban said coldly.

‘Let’s put all our cards on the table,’ Nina said. ‘You’ve got the zodiac from inside the Sphinx - you know it, and I know it.’

Osir looked to Shaban. ‘We scanned her,’ Shaban told him. ‘No bugs, no wires - just a phone.’

‘I don’t want anyone knowing about this any more than you do,’ Nina told them. ‘So, the zodiac. You have it?’

‘Yes, I have it,’ said Osir.

‘Ha, you admitted it! Busted!’ She jabbed an accusing finger at him - then withdrew it, grinning at the angry Shaban. ‘Psych.’

Osir chuckled. ‘I think I am going to like you, Nina. But yes, I have the zodiac.’

‘Which you intend to use to locate the Pyramid of Osiris, right?’

‘Again, you are correct.’

‘I usually am.’

‘Except about the Garden of Eden,’ Shaban said scathingly.

Nina shot him a nasty glance. ‘No, even about that. Except that I got utterly screwed over by people who wanted to keep its existence a secret.’ She looked back at Osir. ‘Which is one of the reasons why I came to you. I can help you find the Pyramid of Osiris . . . but I want my cut.’

One eyebrow twitched quizzically. ‘I hadn’t expected the famous Nina Wilde to be quite so . . . mercenary.’

‘It’s new. I’m trying it on for size.’

‘I don’t believe her,’ said Shaban.

‘Yeah, nobody has, lately.’ Nina’s voice was cutting. ‘You know why I came to you? Because those bastards at the IHA ruined my life. They destroyed my career and took away everything that mattered to me.’

‘What about your husband?’ asked Osir.

She smiled sarcastically. ‘Eddie and I are . . . on a break. We had a fight - over this, over coming to see you. He said he wouldn’t go along with it, and I knew he wasn’t going to change his mind. He never does. So I came on my own.’

‘And what made you decide to come?’

‘Everything,’ she said, then more bitterly: ‘Everything! They made me into a joke, a goddamn joke! And I’m sick of it. The IHA can go fuck themselves!’ Osir, and even Shaban, seemed surprised by the vehemence of her outburst. ‘You want to know the truth? I enjoyed making the IHA look like a bunch of incompetent assholes in front of millions of people. Screw them. I already took the Hall of Records away from them - so now I want to finish the job with the Pyramid of Osiris too. So long as I get well paid, I don’t care any more.’

‘Money will not be a problem,’ said Osir in a concerned yet soothing voice. He lightly touched her shoulder; she didn’t pull away. ‘But are you sure about leaving your husband?’ His tone suggested that he approved of the decision.

‘My husband,’ said Nina, almost growling. ‘My husband makes me so goddamn mad sometimes. He’s inflexible and sanctimonious and - and an idealist. He’s an idealist in a pragmatic world. Well, this is me being pragmatic. I’ve had enough of sitting around and hoping the world takes pity on me. If everyone else is getting ahead by playing the system, then screw it, I want my share.’ Her gaze dropped to her hands, her voice lowering. ‘If Eddie doesn’t like it, then to hell with him.’ She was breathing heavily and her cheeks were flushed, realising she was genuinely angry as pent-up grievances boiled to the surface.

After a moment of silence, she looked back up at Osir to find his dark eyes regarding her intently - he was reading her, as one actor scans another. Judging her performance.

If he thought she was faking, he would turn her over to his brother—

Osir’s face broke into a broad smile. ‘I think we can make a deal, Nina. If you have something to offer me.’

‘I do,’ she said, relieved. ‘I’ve made some deductions about the pyramid’s location.’

‘How?’ demanded Shaban. ‘You never even saw the entire zodiac!’

‘I saw enough. Let me guess - you’re trying to work out how to read the zodiac as a map.’

Shaban sneered. ‘You hardly need to be Sherlock Holmes to deduce that.’

‘Maybe not - but how about if I also deduce that you’ve had no luck relating what you see on your star map to anything in the real world?’

It was clear from the tightness of Shaban’s mouth that she was right. Osir nodded. ‘But you have?’

‘Like I said, it’s one of my deductions. And I’ll give you this first one for free. Just to prove I’m serious about helping you. Everything after this’ll cost you.’

Another small smile from Osir. ‘I’m intrigued what you could have discovered without even seeing the full zodiac.’

‘Pretty simple, really.’ She explained what Eddie had shown her at the Louvre: that a map intended to be viewed on the ceiling would have to be mirrored left to right when viewed more conventionally. ‘I’m taking a guess here, but I’m fairly sure you haven’t stuck the zodiac to the ceiling.’

‘Another correct deduction,’ said Osir. He looked at Shaban, shaking his head. ‘You were in the army. Weren’t you paying attention in map-reading class?’

‘Our maps were not on the ceiling,’ Shaban replied, the scar tissue round his mouth creasing as he fought to control his anger. ‘And besides, you were always supposed to be the clever one, brother.’

‘I suppose I was.’ He turned his head at a knock on the door. ‘Enter. Ah, Fiona!’

A pretty and curvaceous blonde in her mid-twenties came in, bearing a small cup of steaming, strong-smelling coffee. She gave Nina a suspicious look before presenting the drink to Osir with a smile.

He returned it, gently stroking her forearm before taking the cup. ‘Perfect as always, my dear. Thank you.’ Fiona smiled again, then left, Osir unashamedly checking out her butt as she went. He leaned back, smelling the coffee before taking a sip. ‘It’s strange. I can have any luxury from anywhere in the world . . . but for some reason, to me there is no better coffee than a cup of Egyptian saada.’

Shaban made a dismissive sound. ‘Of all the things to be nostalgic about, you choose that slop?’

‘What can I say? You can’t choose the things you enjoy - they choose you. So you may as well enjoy them without guilt.’ He sipped it again with a contented expression.

‘That doesn’t sound like something Osiris would say,’ Nina commented.

‘The beauty of Osiris is that there are many ways to interpret his story. As you pointed out in Paris.’

‘Are you saying you just make things up to suit your needs?’

A sardonic laugh. ‘You are as blunt as my brother, Nina! But you may think that; I couldn’t possibly comment.’

Shaban didn’t share his levity. ‘Khalid! She has been working against us from the start, but now she suddenly turns round and abandons her own husband to come here? Do you really think she wants to help us? It’s a trick.’

‘I’d be pretty damn stupid to come here on my own if I wasn’t being genuine,’ Nina countered. ‘Considering that you and your snakeskinned buddy want to kill me.’

‘I’m afraid Sebak and his men can be a little . . . over-zealous in protecting the Temple’s interests,’ said Osir. ‘I hope you will accept my apologies. I never wanted anyone to get hurt. All I wanted was to get the zodiac out of the Hall of Records before the IHA opened it, so I could find the Pyramid of Osiris without interference.’

‘Why are you trying to find the pyramid?’ she asked. ‘What’s in it that’s so important to you?’

He finished his coffee and stood, holding out a hand to Nina. She hesitated, then took it. ‘I will show you.’

‘Khalid!’ Shaban hissed, a clear warning.

Osir glared at him. ‘You may be my brother, but I am in charge of the Osirian Temple, Sebak. Remember that!’ Shaban’s fury was now so great that he was visibly shaking with rage, but he forced himself to remain silent as Osir turned back to Nina. ‘Again, I apologise. Do you have a younger brother? Or sister?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘But Eddie - my husband - he’s a younger brother.’

‘Then you know something about sibling rivalry.’

‘You could say that.’ She had only met Eddie’s sister a few times, but even though the two formerly antagonistic Chases had gone through something of a reconciliation, their relationship still had a spiky edge.

Osir grinned. ‘It is the eldest son’s job to take charge of his brother, to look after him when he needs support. And sometimes, to fix his mistakes when his temper overcomes him.’ This last was pointedly directed at Shaban, whose face again contorted in silent anger. ‘But come,’ he said, directing Nina to the door. ‘See for yourself why I am searching for the Pyramid of Osiris.’

13

With Shaban following, Osir led Nina through the keep to the courtyard. She had passed the black glass pyramid and nearby helipad on the way in, but only now was she able to give the structure her full attention. From its base, its blank, sloping face and converging sides threw off her sense of perspective, making it hard to judge its true size. But it was taller than any of the castle’s towers, around eighty feet high.

‘A pyramid in Switzerland?’ she said as they approached. ‘A bit out of place.’ To say the least; unlike the glass pyramid at the Louvre, Osir’s edifice was grossly out of proportion with its surroundings, dominating the castle.

‘I think it fits well with the scenery,’ Osir replied. ‘One of the many fine things about Switzerland. Though I admit the one which brought me here was the tax system.’

‘I thought religions were tax exempt?’ She almost said ‘cults’, but opted not to antagonise him.

‘They are, in most places - once they have been accepted as legitimate, which takes a lot of time and effort. I founded the Osirian Temple fifteen years ago, but it’s only in the past five that it has truly begun to grow around the world. But I have other interests, which unfortunately are not tax exempt . . . not without a headquarters in Switzerland and some very clever and expensive accountants.’

The open area of courtyard before the pyramid, empty when she arrived, was now occupied by some thirty men in black shorts and T-shirts performing callisthenics. Diamondback, for once without his snakeskin jacket, issued commands like a drill instructor. Shaban diverted to exchange brief words with the American, who glowered at Nina; while Shaban spoke, the men all stood to attention.

‘Looks like you’ve got your own little private army,’ said Nina.

‘Sebak’s idea,’ Osir replied as his brother re-joined them. ‘For protection. The Temple sometimes attracts trouble - as you may have noticed.’ He smiled.

They reached the pyramid, glass doors in its face sliding open to reveal a stylish lobby area within. The people inside bowed their heads respectfully as Osir directed Nina to an elevator. Disconcertingly, the front and rear glass walls sloped to match the pyramid’s face, the elevator’s cross-section a parallelogram with its shaft ascending at the same angle. It was a very inefficient use of space, the cabin able to hold far fewer people than a conventional design, but Nina suspected her host was more interested in form than function.

Shaban followed them into the elevator, watching Nina coldly as they ascended. The glass walls gave her a view of parts of the pyramid’s interior as they rose, the most impressive being a huge chamber: a temple. Unlike the room she had seen in Paris, though, the decorative hieroglyphics here were laser-etched on glass panels, the tall statues of Egyptian gods glinting in chrome.

‘This is the headquarters of the Osirian Temple,’ Osir announced proudly. ‘It is also the headquarters of Osiris Investment Group, SA. There are more ordinary offices in Geneva and elsewhere, but they are all run from here.’

‘You run a religion and a business from the same building?’

‘The two are more alike than you might think,’ he said, smiling. ‘Customer loyalty, market share, return on investment . . . all crucial.’ The high hall dropped out of sight, two floors of offices passing before the elevator stopped.

Nina caught a strong and distinctive scent in the air: yeast. ‘Smells like you run a bakery as well.’

Osir laughed. ‘Not quite. But bread has been an important part of my life - my father was a baker, you know. I grew up making bread.’ He seemed momentarily wistful as they stepped from the elevator. ‘He thought I would carry on his business.’

‘Yes,’ said Shaban sarcastically, his anger having subsided, ‘I’m sure you would much rather be kneading dough than living in a Swiss castle.’

‘Fate had other plans. This way, please, Nina.’

She followed Osir through a door, the pungent smell of yeast growing stronger. The far wall of the room they entered was reinforced glass, giving her a view of what looked like a cross between a kitchen and a laboratory occupying the pyramid’s apex. Several people wearing white overalls and face masks were at work, some at computers and microscopes, others tending to ovens and large gleaming steel vats. ‘Okay,’ Nina said, lost. ‘This is . . . ?’

‘This is why I am searching for the Pyramid of Osiris,’ said Osir. ‘What do you know about telomeres?’

She blinked, surprised by the conversation’s total change of direction. ‘Uh, apart from them being something to do with cells . . . nothing,’ she admitted. ‘I’m an archaeologist, not a biologist.’

‘Oh, Nina,’ he said teasingly, shaking his head. ‘You shouldn’t put limits on the boundaries of your knowledge. Look at me. I was a baker, who became an actor, who became a businessman and then a religious leader . . . but I’ve also become, in my own small way, an expert in the study of life extension.’

‘Life extension?’ Nina said, trying to conceal her doubtfulness.

‘Yes. Ultimately, that is what the Osirian Temple is about - avoiding ageing, avoiding death. Becoming as immortal as Osiris. My interest - my obsession - began when I was an actor. A star, rather. I may not have been as famous around the world as the stars of Hollywood,’ a smile of false modesty, ‘but certainly everyone in Egypt knew my face when I was younger.’

‘And you wanted to keep it looking young.’

‘Of course! Wouldn’t you?’

‘I dunno,’ said Nina, ‘I was . . . kinda chunky when I was twenty. I prefer how I look now I’m older.’

‘Then you are a very lucky - and unusual - woman!’ Osir laughed. ‘But all that means is that you are happy as you are now. With every passing moment, you are moving beyond that - and your own body is working against you. Every cell in your body is slowly destroying itself, and there is nothing you can do about it. Unless,’ he said, making a sweeping gesture towards the vats, ‘you can stop your body’s self-destruct - and reverse it.’

‘That’s what this is?’ she asked. ‘You’re making an . . . immortality drug?’

This time, she couldn’t keep the scepticism from her voice. ‘I’ve heard that tone before,’ said Osir - not accusingly, but with resignation. ‘But yes, that is what I am trying to do. I love my life - and I want to keep on loving it! I started with simple treatments, like diet and exercise plans, then moved on to vitamins, antioxidants, hormones—’

‘Which you sell to the Osirian Temple’s followers.’

‘Yes. Each branch of the Temple buys products from worldwide subsidiaries of OIG, which produce them under licence from the parent company. But,’ he went on, eyes twinkling, ‘the clever part is, the licence fees are more than the wholesale price at which they sell them to the Temples. So technically, all the subsidiary companies operate at a loss . . .’

‘. . . and if they’re running at a loss, they don’t pay any taxes.’

‘Exactly. Meanwhile, the Temples make a profit on what they sell, but because they are religious organisations, they pay no taxes either. It’s all far more complicated than that, of course - as I said, I have some very expensive accountants and lawyers keeping me one step ahead of the taxman! But it is all legal. Well, it’s within the letter of the law, at least.’

‘It’s an impressive setup,’ said Nina, thinking of other words to describe it: ‘crooked’ topping her list.

‘Thank you.’ Osir seemed genuinely pleased. ‘But eventually, I realised that such treatments can only go so far, because of a simple genetic fact. Telomeres are a part of the chromosomes in every cell of the body, a sort of cap. Every time the cell replicates, the telomeres become a little shorter. They are a control mechanism - they stop cells from replicating uncontrollably, like cancers, but they also have a fault.’

Nina saw what he meant. ‘If they get shorter each time they replicate, eventually they’ll be completely used up.’

‘That’s right. And when that happens, the cell ages . . . and dies. The process is constant, and unstoppable. No matter how healthily a person lives, there is a built-in expiration date on their body. But,’ he said, looking into the lab, ‘there is a way to change that.’

‘With yeast?’

‘With a very special kind of yeast. Did you know that only one per cent of all the different types of yeast have been classified? They are very simple micro-organisms, but also very varied. Some can be used to produce biofuel, others to break down dangerous chemicals, or deliver targeted doses of drugs inside the body - and, of course,’ he added with a smile, ‘some simply help make bread. It is one of these that I’m looking for.’

Nina regarded him dubiously. ‘You want to find the Pyramid of Osiris . . . so you can make bread?’

‘Ah! You think I am . . . what is the American expression? “Wacko”, that’s it!’ He laughed again. ‘Not just any bread, Nina,’ he said, becoming more serious, more intense. ‘A special bread, a bread reserved for ancient Egyptian kings . . . and gods. The bread of Osiris.’

His words sparked a memory. ‘Wait a minute,’ said Nina. ‘Macy said there was something about the bread of life on the scroll you kept from the IHA.’

He nodded. ‘The one that told me about the Pyramid of Osiris - and what it holds. There are treasures, yes, there is the sarcophagus of Osiris himself . . . but the most valuable thing in his tomb is also the simplest. Bread. Yeast. The yeast that turned an ordinary man into an immortal legend.’

‘You’re saying this yeast made him immortal?’

Osir shook his head. ‘Not in the way we would use the word. Life expectancy in ancient Egypt was, what, forty years? Forty-five at most? Someone who lived to be seventy would be thought of as impossibly old - and if that person was a king, they would be considered immortal.’

‘I can accept that,’ Nina said, somewhat grudgingly, ‘but how would yeast help him live that long?’

‘As I said, there are many different kinds of yeast.’ He pointed at a bearded scientist working on a computer. ‘Dr Kralj and his team are sequencing the genetic code of certain types, looking for what they believe is the ideal sequence. They might find it tomorrow - in which case, I will soon be the richest man in the world. On the other hand, the search may take a hundred years, and by then I’ll be dead, no matter how closely I follow my own teachings. So I would rather find the original strain, which is in the Pyramid of Osiris.’

‘So you think the yeast used to bake Osiris’s own personal Wonder Bread is some kind of . . . I don’t know, life-extending mutant strain?’

‘Not all yeasts are good. Some are pathogenic organisms whose spores can infect the human body, or are carriers for viruses. But the yeast used to make the bread of Osiris was different. It is a carrier - but not of a virus. It carries an enzyme called telomerase that repairs and replenishes telomeres.’

All the disparate pieces fell into place. ‘It tops them up,’ Nina said, ‘stops them from getting shorter when the cells replicate.’ Her eyes widened as she realised the full implications. ‘The cells would live for ever. They’d never die.’

‘And so would those who ate it.’ Osir smiled triumphantly. ‘The yeast provided the enzyme that replenished Osiris’s cells, and slowed or even stopped his ageing. To his people, he became immortal.’

‘And if the rulers knew that eating this bread helped you live longer, they’d keep it to themselves, of course.’ A small frown crossed her brow. ‘But wouldn’t the yeast die during the baking process?’

‘My brother and I do know a little about baking,’ said Shaban with sarcastic disdain.

‘The temperatures in the mud brick ovens used in ancient Egypt were unpredictable,’ Osir explained. ‘Sometimes the yeast would survive in some form. And if the bakers knew the yeast was the key to long life, they would make sure as much survived as possible.’ A crooked grin. ‘It would not be the best-tasting bread, but that’s a small price to pay for eternal life.’

‘Hardly eternal,’ Nina pointed out. ‘You could still die from disease, or being run over by a camel. Ancient Egypt was a dangerous place.’

‘But a wise king keeps himself away from danger,’ said Osir. ‘And Osiris was the wisest king of all. He would not have been elevated to godhood otherwise.’

‘So you find his tomb, then cultivate a new strain of the yeast?’

‘Yes. Yeast spores can survive indefinitely. Even if the priests left no bread in the tomb to sustain Osiris in the afterlife, there should still be remnants in the canopic jars containing his organs. One way or another, I’m certain we will find samples.’ He looked into the lab. ‘The original strain has been lost in time like so much else, but here we can make it live again. And with a little genetic modification, it will make me as revered as Osiris.’

Nina regarded him suspiciously. ‘Genetic modification?’

Shaban’s mouth was a hard line. ‘I think you have told her enough, brother.’

Osir gave him an irritated glance, but this time acquiesced. ‘Sebak has a point,’ he said to Nina, his smug affability returning. ‘Our little trade secrets aren’t really relevant. It’s enough to say that there will be great rewards for bringing immortality to the world.’

‘Yeah, I’m sure you’ll be very rich, and very powerful. Only . . .’ She gave him a sly smile, hiding her contempt. ‘You can’t do anything until you find the Pyramid of Osiris. Which brings us back to business. Like I said, I want my cut. Considering what you stand to make, I’m thinking an amount in the millions would be fair. Dollars, that is. Not Egyptian pounds.’

Shaban let out an outraged snort, but Osir nodded. ‘If you help me get what I want, you too will be very well rewarded.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ said Nina. She held out her hand. ‘What do you say?’

‘Khalid, you can not be serious!’ protested Shaban. ‘She is trying to trick you! Why won’t you believe me?’

Osir stared hard at his brother. ‘Because I’m willing to take a chance that she is telling the truth. That’s your problem, Sebak - you’ve never been a gambler. You only dare act when you are certain of success. But I take risks - sometimes I lose, but when they pay off . . .’ He gestured at the pyramid around them. ‘This, this is the reward! You never accomplish anything without taking chances.’

‘It is a big chance to take,’ Shaban hissed.

‘But I will take it.’ Osir faced Nina. ‘I’m willing to take you at your word, Nina. Find me the Pyramid of Osiris, and you will get everything you desire.’ He extended his hand; Nina was about to take it when he suddenly brought it up, index finger pointing at her heart. ‘But try to deceive me . . .’ He looked meaningfully towards Shaban.

‘I’ll find it,’ she said, still holding out her hand.

After a moment, he smiled and shook it. ‘Then we have a deal. Excellent.’ Shaban turned away in disgust.

Nina pulled free. ‘Okay, then. If you’ll just show me the zodiac . . .’

Osir chuckled. ‘It’s not here.’

A chill ran through her. ‘What?’

‘I have business in Monaco, so my people are reassembling the zodiac on my yacht - I want to be right there while its secrets are deciphered. You’ll come with me.’ Seeing her uncertain expression, he added, ‘It’s a very nice yacht.’

‘There is nobody else you were planning to meet, is there?’ asked Shaban with predatory suspicion. ‘Like your husband?’

Nina waved a dismissive hand. ‘Oh, God, no. The jerk.’ She turned back to Osir. ‘So. You have a yacht, huh?’

Macy paced back and forth beside the rental car, looking anxiously along the lake at the castle for any signs of activity - or Nina. She saw neither. More pacing - then finally she couldn’t take any more and opened the door. ‘How can you just sit there?’

‘ ’Cause it’s more comfortable than standing?’ Eddie offered.

‘You know what I mean! It’s your wife in there! Why aren’t you worried about her?’

‘I am worried about her.’

‘You don’t look it! What is this, some British stiff upper lip thing?’

‘Just get in and sit down.’ Sulkily, Macy climbed in and slammed the door.

In truth, though, he was worried about Nina. As he’d told her in Paris, meeting Osir in person was like not only walking into the lion’s den, but doing so wearing a jacket made of meat and a T-shirt reading Lions are pussies.

But she had her own arguments: that letting Osir raid the Pyramid of Osiris would be an archaeological tragedy; that a dangerous cult getting its hands on a vast fortune could only be a bad thing; that after everything Osir and Shaban had put them through, didn’t he want the chance for some payback? He couldn’t deny that the last had a certain appeal.

Which still didn’t mean he liked her plan. But now that it was in progress, all they could do was wait.

‘How do you stand it?’ Macy said, breaking the silence.

‘Stand what?’

‘Just . . . waiting!’

‘There isn’t much else I can do, is there? And you backed her up about going in there in the first bloody place. Did you think she was just going to knock on the door, say “Hi, I’ve come to see your zodiac”, then walk right back out?’

‘But she’s been in there over two hours! Oh, my God, what if something’s happened to her? She might be—’

‘She’s not,’ Eddie said firmly, hoping he was being truthful. ‘Okay, you want to know how I stand waiting around like this? Because I’m used to it.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Being a soldier isn’t all running about and shooting at people. Ninety-nine per cent of the time, it’s boring as fuck. You go to a place, then you wait for something to happen. Mostly, you eventually get orders to go to some other place, and wait again.’

‘So what do you do to keep occupied?’

‘Nothing. Know why?’ She shook her head, curious. ‘Because when you do something to take your mind off the boredom, you also take your mind off what you’re supposed to be waiting for.’

‘Which is?’

A thin smile. ‘Trouble. If you’re chatting with your mates, or listening to your iPod or whatever . . . that’s when some arsehole with an AK’ll pop up and blow your head off - and you won’t even see it coming.’

She looked unhappy at the prospect. ‘Oh.’

‘So yeah, waiting around doing nothing in a combat zone’s a pain in the arse. But that’s how I stand it, ’cause it means that when something does happen, I’m ready for it.’

‘I get you. Although I really don’t think I’m cut out to be a soldier.’ She cocked her head. ‘Wait, so why are you chatting to me now?’

He grinned. ‘ ’Cause this isn’t a combat zone.’ A glance towards the castle. ‘Yet.’

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, but the trilling of Eddie’s phone immediately took both their minds off the subject. He switched it to speaker mode. ‘Nina! Are you okay?’

The reply was a hurried whisper. ‘Yeah. I think Osir believed me.’

‘You think?’

‘Well, he didn’t have me killed on the spot! Look, I can’t talk long - I’m in the bathroom and they’ll get suspicious.’

‘Did you see the zodiac?’ Macy asked.

‘No - it’s not here.’

Eddie looked at Macy in dismay. ‘Bugg—’

‘Don’t even start,’ said Nina, cutting him off. ‘It’s on his yacht in Monaco. That’s where we’re going. He’s got a private jet at Geneva airport.’

‘How am I going to find you if you’re on a bloody boat?’

‘I don’t know! Maybe I can - dammit, gotta go! I’ll see you soon, I love you, bye!’

‘Love you too,’ said Eddie, just after the line closed. He looked at Macy, who had put a worried hand to her mouth. ‘Well, that’s fucking marvellous.’

‘You . . . you know how you didn’t want her to go in there, and I was all, “No, we have to find the pyramid before he does”?’ she said. ‘Now thinking: ’kay, might have been wrong.’

‘Bit late,’ Eddie growled. He banged a fist on the steering wheel. ‘Shit. Monaco’s over three hundred miles away. It’ll take us at least five hours to drive there through the bloody Alps. Probably more with all the grand prix traffic.’ A clattering rumble reached him: a helicopter flying up the valley, heading for the castle. ‘And they’ll be there in less than an hour.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘Get there as fast as possible and wait for her to call us,’ he said grimly, starting the car. ‘Nowt else we can do.’ He pulled out, and with a crunch of gravel spun the car round to head south.

14

Monaco

Though hardly the only micro-state to dot the map of Europe, the Principality of Monaco is by far the wealthiest, at least in terms of income per head - and also the most glamorous. The tiny country’s location on the French Riviera near the Italian border gives it a warm subtropical climate, and its royal family and casinos add an air of expensive mystique . . . to say nothing of its tax haven status, which makes it a magnet for the super-rich.

It is, however, arguably most famous for its annual motor race, million-dollar vehicles screaming through the twisting streets at over 180 miles per hour. From the foredeck of Osir’s huge yacht, the Solar Barque, moored offshore beyond Monaco’s outer breakwater, Nina couldn’t see the Saturday qualifying session as the drivers steeled themselves for the Sunday race - but she could hear it, the roaring wail of ultra-high-performance engines echoing off buildings as cars speared along the harbour front before looping back into the city and making the steep ascent to Casino Square.

‘Wow,’ she said to Osir. ‘Must be distracting if you live there and you’re trying to watch TV.’

The cult leader was, in fact, trying to watch TV. ‘I think anyone who lives in Monaco and doesn’t like the noise of racing cars can afford to take a vacation for one week each year,’ he said, eyes fixed on a live broadcast of the qualifying session. ‘But then, anyone - no!’ He muttered an Arabic curse.

‘Someone else has beaten Virtanen’s lap time?’ asked Shaban from a nearby lounger with mocking indifference.

Osir glared at him. ‘By over a tenth of a second! We’ll be lucky to have a car in the front half of the grid at this rate.’

‘We shouldn’t have any cars at all. It is a huge waste of money.’

‘It helps spread the Osirian Temple’s name around the world,’ said Osir. ‘I consider it worth it - and I am not having this discussion again, Sebak.’ His brother scowled and stood, retreating inside the yacht.

Nina turned away from the sunlit vista of the city to Osir. ‘You know, I wouldn’t have thought they’d let religions sponsor cars.’

‘Technically, the Osirian Temple is not sponsoring anything,’ he said, keeping a close watch on the screen. ‘All the money comes from the Osiris Investment Group.’ A new set of numbers appeared. ‘Ah, that’s more like it! That should put us on the third row.’

‘Sponsoring racing teams, running this enormous yacht . . . the Osirian Temple’s not really like other religions, is it?’

Osir eyed her over his sunglasses. ‘You sound disapproving, Nina.’

She shrugged. ‘Not my concern. I’m just sayin’.’

‘My clever accountants worked out a way for the Solar Barque to cost me absolutely nothing, thanks to some loss-making subsidiaries and carefully crafted leaseback agreements with OIG. Since I can have it, I may as well enjoy it. And you may as well too.’ He pushed an intercom button on his lounger’s arm. ‘Nadia? Two martinis, please.’

‘I’m okay,’ said Nina, holding up a hand.

‘I insist. On a beautiful day like this, you should take the maximum pleasure from every one of your senses.’

‘I’d rather be working on the zodiac.’

‘When it’s ready,’ he said, to her disappointment. ‘My experts are making sure it is as perfectly reassembled as possible. It will still take them hours, but I don’t want the slightest clue to be missed.’

She couldn’t stop herself from saying, ‘Then maybe you should have left it on the ceiling of the Hall of Records.’

He smirked. ‘Now you really do disapprove.’

‘Moving it wouldn’t have been my first choice - especially since your brother and that asshole Diamondback tried to kill me while they were doing it.’ She shot a venomous look at the deck above. Diamondback was leaning against the rail, surreptitiously keeping an eye on her. ‘But it’s done. So I might as well profit from it.’

‘And you will, Nina. We both will.’ He smiled, then turned as a lithe young Jamaican woman in a bikini arrived with a tray. ‘Nadia, thank you.’

Nadia handed the tall glasses, ice clinking, to Nina and Osir. ‘Is there anything else you want?’ she asked in a suggestive tone.

Osir grinned. ‘Always, my dear . . . but not just now. Perhaps after the party at the casino.’ He gave her backside something between a brush and a swat as she turned to leave, making her giggle.

‘You got a hunky guy in Speedos for me?’ Nina asked. She had seen several other young women in similar states of near-undress since boarding - along with numerous green-blazered guards, some armed with silenced MP7 sub-machine guns.

‘I’m sure we could arrange one.’

She got the feeling he wasn’t joking. ‘So, tell me,’ she said, wanting both to change the subject and to pass the time until she could legitimately go for another ‘bathroom break’ - her first attempt to contact Eddie from the yacht had failed because the head she chose had zero cell phone reception, ‘how does a guy go from being a baker to founding his own religion? With a spell as a movie star in between, too.’

Osir sat up and muted the flatscreen, pleased at the opportunity to talk about his favourite subject: himself. ‘I said in Switzerland that I like to gamble, yes? Well, I became an actor because I took a gamble. I was only fourteen, and a movie was being shot in my town. From the moment I saw the actors, and the crew attending them, I knew I had to be a part of it - somehow. But they were only on location for three days before going back to the studio. So every day I sneaked out of school and hung around the shoot, talking to people between takes - including the lead actor, Fadil. I tried to convince Sebak to come with me - he was twelve - but he was afraid of being caught, and thought our father would be furious.’

‘And was he?’

Osir smiled. ‘Oh, yes. But I’ll come to that. On the last day, they were shooting a scene where the two leads get out of a car and go into a hotel, and they needed some extras in the background. Because one of the people I had befriended was the assistant director, he called me over.’

‘And so began a movie career,’ said Nina. For all her distrust of Osir, with his rich voice and expressive face she couldn’t help warming to him as a storyteller.

‘Not quite,’ he said. ‘Skipping school was only a small gamble. The big gamble was when I gave myself a line during the take.’

‘Ooh. I bet the director was mad.’

He smiled again, no longer looking at Nina but somewhere off into the sky. ‘I can still remember it - Fadil was having trouble getting a big case out of the car. I saw that the director was about to say “Cut”, so I stepped forward and said, “Help the gentleman with his case? Only ten piastres,” and held out my hand like Oliver Twist!’

‘And what happened?’

‘The director was so surprised, he forgot to call for a cut,’ he said, laughing, ‘and Fadil, since he knew me, improvised rather than getting angry. He said, “If you take all the lady’s cases, I’ll give you twenty!” Everyone laughed, and the director decided to keep it in the film. I even got paid! You will never guess how much.’

‘Twenty piastres?’

‘Out of Fadil’s own pocket. So that was my big gamble, and my first screen appearance. Of course, Sebak was incredibly jealous, so he told my parents what I had done. And yes, my father was furious. But a few days later he got a letter from the director. After he saw the dailies from the location he realised there was a later scene where he could follow up my little joke in a way that helped build Fadil’s character. To do that, though, he needed me again . . . so he asked if I would come to Cairo to shoot the new scene.’

‘Wow,’ Nina said, impressed. ‘It really did pay off.’

‘More than I could ever have dreamed. My father took a little persuading, but I got my way; there are advantages to being the first-born son! So I went to Cairo, and since I was working at the studio, I needed to sign a contract. My birth name, Khalid Shaban, was the same as another actor’s, so they asked me to pick a stage name. I chose Osir - after Osiris, of course. I thought it would bring me luck.’

‘And it did.’

‘It certainly did. By sixteen, I was in regular work as an actor - small parts at first, but building my skills and making friends on both sides of the camera. By eighteen, I had starred in my first film, which was quite successful by Egyptian standards. The studio wanted more, but I was due to start my three years of national service in the army. So the studio head, who had friends in the government, pulled a few strings.’

Nina sipped her martini. ‘And got you out of military service?’

He nodded. ‘I would have done it, but I’m glad I didn’t have to. I was having too much fun! I was only eighteen, but I was famous, making lots of money, travelling - and meeting many beautiful women.’ Osir smiled broadly - a smile which, to Nina’s surprise, quickly faded. ‘All this only made Sebak even more jealous . . . and then he had his accident.’

‘What happened to him? I mean, he obviously got burned, but . . .’

‘It happened in the army.’ Osir shook his head sadly. ‘Unlike me, he was conscripted. So he was already angry about that. Then, only a few weeks into service, he was in a truck that crashed and caught fire. He was in hospital for two months, with one side of his face, and more, burned away . . . then he was made to go straight back into his unit to serve the rest of his three years. He was understandably bitter.’

‘I’m not surprised.’ The revelation did nothing to make Nina more sympathetic to Shaban, but she could understand his constantly simmering rage at the world.

‘When he came out of the army, I did what any elder brother should, and took care of him. I found him work as my assistant, and when I established the Osirian Temple I made him a key part of it.’

‘How did you establish the Osirian Temple? Setting up a religion isn’t exactly something you can buy a Dummies’ Guide for.’

Osir chuckled. ‘I made a movie called Osiris and Set, eighteen years ago. I played Osiris; it was destined, I suppose! It was very successful - it even had a release, a small one, in America, which is very rare for Egyptian films. Because of it, I was for a time the biggest star in Egypt. Everyone knew me, everyone wanted to hear what I had to say . . . it was like being worshipped, just as I had been as Osiris in the movie.’ He regarded Nina knowingly, clinking the ice in his glass. ‘You’ve been famous - in a different way, but you know what it’s like. And how it is . . . addictive.’

‘I wouldn’t say that, exactly.’

A sly smile. ‘Oh, Nina. The first time you saw yourself on television, the first time you saw your own face on a magazine cover . . . wasn’t it a thrill? The world was watching you, listening to you. There is no feeling like it. And no one is immune to its siren song - not even a scientist. You can’t tell me that after having experienced those heights, you are happy to fall into obscurity.’

‘I wouldn’t mind, so long as it’s wealthy obscurity,’ Nina said, playing her role. But she reluctantly had to agree that he had a point.

Osir saw her doubt, and smiled again. ‘But as for me, I wanted more. Not just as an actor, or even as a star. I wanted to be loved,’ he thumped his heart, ‘here. To have people believe in me, follow me—’

‘Worship you?’

‘What can I say?’ He raised his hands in mock apology. ‘Yes, I wanted to be worshipped. So I quit acting, and founded the Osirian Temple - and, more quietly, also founded the company that would become OIG.’

‘Another gamble,’ said Nina.

‘The biggest of my life. I am a Muslim, after all,’ Nina noted that he used the present tense, ‘and to Islam’s more fundamentalist followers, who are unfortunately growing in strength in Egypt, apostasy is a crime that deserves death. I received my share of threats. Which was why I put Sebak in charge of protecting me, and the Osirian Temple as a whole. He is very good at his job.’

‘Maybe too good,’ Nina said. Shaban was now talking to Diamondback on the upper deck, a hand on his shoulder.

‘Again, I apologise. Events got out of control.’ Something on the screen caught his eye, and he jabbed at the button to unmute it. ‘Second fastest! We are on the front row!’ He looked back at Nina. ‘Yet more apologies, but this is extremely good news.’

‘That’s okay,’ she said, putting down the glass. ‘I need to take a quick break anyway.’ She headed into the ship to find another bathroom.

‘Where are you?’ Eddie said, answering the phone.

‘In Monaco,’ came Nina’s whispered reply. ‘I’m on his boat. Ship. Whatever the dividing line is. Where are you?’

‘On an autostrada in Italy.’ He was speeding, doing thirty over the 130 kilometre per hour limit, but this being Italy impatient locals were flashing past him.

‘Italy? What the hell are you doing there?’

‘It’s the fastest route to Monaco. I always wanted to go to the grand prix there, but this wasn’t how I planned . . . What about you? Have you seen the zodiac?’

‘Not yet. Osir’s people are still reassembling it; they won’t be done until tonight.’

‘Arse,’ he muttered. ‘I’d sort of hoped you’d got everything sussed by now.’ A thought struck him. ‘This boat, is it in the harbour,?’

‘No, it’s off the coast.’

‘Buggeration and fuckery! How’re you going to get off?’

‘Yeah, I was wondering that myself. But listen, Osir said he was going to a party at a casino this evening. I think he wants to take me along.’

‘A party? Do you know which casino?’

‘No, but it’s connected with his racing team, so it shouldn’t be too hard to find. Maybe you could hire a boat and follow us back to his ship. It’s called the Solar Barque - oh, crap, someone’s coming. Bye!’

‘Bye,’ said Eddie, but again not quickly enough to beat the click of disconnection.

‘Is she okay?’ Macy asked.

‘Yeah, but she’s on his bloody yacht, and somehow I don’t think there’ll be much chance of us finding a boat for hire the night before the biggest event of the year.’

‘What was that about a party?’

Eddie chuckled sarcastically. ‘You sound a bit keen. Why, you wanting to go?’

‘No. Well, I don’t know. What sort of party?’

‘For his grand prix team.’

Her face brightened. ‘Oh! Racing drivers? We should definitely go.’

‘It’s not going to be a social visit,’ he reminded her. ‘Besides, we’re hardly dressed for a flash do at some fancy casino.’ He nodded at his jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket, and her travel-crumpled shirt and khaki combat trousers.

She smiled and took out her credit card. ‘Dressing for a night in Monte Carlo? Priceless.’

15

For all the resort’s glamorous reputation, the majority of Monaco’s casinos are surprisingly mundane. While the image from many a movie - and the one the Tourist Office wants to present - is of tuxedos, diamonds and fortunes won on the turn of a card or the spin of a wheel, for the most part the reality is rank after rank of computerised slot machines. Like Las Vegas, Monaco has found that while high-rollers look attractive on the big screen, much more profit can be made from a steady flow of ordinary tourists with no clue about the intricacies of gambling and a hunger and thirst ready to be sated in the casinos’ own pricey restaurants and bars.

The principality’s newest establishment, however, had opted to hearken back to the idealised fantasy of the Riviera. The Casino d’Azur was a deliberate throwback to the days when being a member of the jet set was an exotic aspiration and not an everyday drudge of tiny meals and confiscated nail clippers. The slot machines were still present, but relatively discreetly, putting the more traditional gambling pursuits front and centre.

Nina looked round as she and Osir entered one of the casino’s main lounges. Though she had little interest in gambling beyond the occasional lotto ticket, she couldn’t help but be impressed by the architects’ efforts. The d’Azur was a rococo homage to the era when Monaco first became a draw for the rich and risk-inclined, and no expense had been spared in making it as authentic as possible, from the low-hanging crystal chandeliers to the darkly lacquered hardwood of the gaming tables. ‘Wow. This place looks amazing.’

‘As do you, Nina,’ said Osir. Despite herself, she felt her cheeks flush. On the one hand she felt silly and self-conscious, dressed in a blue silk evening gown with her hair styled in an elegant twist. On the other, she was being taken for a night out in Monaco, which was undeniably exciting . . . even if the company wasn’t to her taste. As well as several burly bodyguards, Osir’s entourage included Shaban and Diamondback, the latter having reluctantly donned a tie with his snakeskin jacket to meet the evening’s dress code.

‘Thank you,’ she said. Osir himself made a striking figure in a white tuxedo, the confident way he carried himself ensuring there would be absolutely no chance of his being mistaken for a waiter. He led her through the games to a side exit, a member of the casino staff recognising him and waving them through.

The doors led to a courtyard, one roped-off end opening on to Casino Square and the racing circuit. With qualifying over, the track had been re-opened to the public; part of the crash barrier had been removed to allow access to the casino. Nina glanced at the passing people in the hope of seeing Eddie, but there was no sign of him or Macy.

An earsplitting noise caught everyone’s attention. A sleek racing car in the green and gold livery of Team Osiris had just had its engine started, the chiselled young blond man in the cockpit grinning up at Osir as he blipped the throttle.

‘Ladies and gentlemen! It seems one of the drivers is impatient to get to the race!’ boomed Osir, to laughter from the partygoers. Cameras flashed as he went to the car and shook the driver’s hand. ‘Mikko Virtanen, everyone - who I am sure will be not only the winner of tomorrow’s grand prix, but soon the world champion!’

The guests cheered; the engine note fell to an idling crackle as Osir began a speech in his role as the team’s major sponsor. Nina looked back towards Casino Square. Still no Eddie. She turned to Osir again - and found that Diamondback had materialised in front of her, leering. ‘Lookin’ for someone, li’l lady?’ he asked.

‘Anyone but you.’

‘Aw, now that’s unfortunate. ’Cause you’re gonna keep on seeing me, since Mr Shaban asked me to stay close to Mr Osir’s special guest and make sure she don’t get into any . . . mischief.’

‘I assure you, I have no intention of getting into any mischief,’ she said, voice acidic. ‘Certainly not with Mr Osir.’

‘He’ll be real disappointed to hear that.’ Diamondback laughed, then re-joined Shaban, who was watching Nina with evident suspicion.

Osir concluded his speech, and after exchanging pleasantries with some of the guests returned to Nina. ‘It’s a little loud out here,’ he said, gesturing at another door. ‘The ballroom will be quieter, I think.’ She was slightly surprised when he took her hand to escort her across the courtyard, but didn’t object. Shaban, Diamondback and the bodyguards followed as they walked away, the car revving behind them.

Even through the noise of a busy evening in Casino Square, Eddie heard the distinctive V8 roar from the Casino d’Azur. ‘Sounds like the right place.’

Macy regarded the building nervously as they crossed the road. ‘I hope she’s still okay.’

‘She should be - for now. Osir wouldn’t have brought her if she hadn’t convinced him she can figure out the zodiac. Problem’s going to be getting her out once she does it.’

‘So what’s the plan?’

‘Find her. Then after that . . . I’ll tell you as I make it up.’

‘That doesn’t fill me with confidence.’

Eddie grinned. ‘Trust me. I’ve done this sort of thing before.’

‘And how did it turn out?’

‘Usually with exploding helicopters.’

Macy giggled, then tailed off. ‘That wasn’t a joke, was it?’

‘Just remember to dive if I tell you.’ They reached the casino entrance. ‘Okay, got your passport?’

Admission to casinos in Monaco is closely governed; legally, the native Monegasques are forbidden to enter the institutions from which their government derives a large part of its revenue. There was also the dress code to consider, but Eddie and Macy now looked the part. He wore a black tux; she a low-cut minidress in a clinging, colour-shifting metallic fabric. Eddie had wanted her to pick something less conspicuous, but her argument had simply been that she was paying for it and wasn’t going to be seen in anything ‘sucky’.

She handed him her passport. ‘Here. Can you keep hold of it? It barely fits in my purse.’

‘Never understood that about women,’ Eddie said. ‘You cart all this crap around with you, but only have a bag the size of a hamster’s scrotum to put it all in.’ He idly flipped open the passport to look at her picture - then noticed something else on the page and burst out laughing.

‘No, no, don’t read that!’ Macy shrieked, but too late to stop him seeing her full name.

‘Macarena?’ he cackled. ‘That’s your real name, Macarena? As in . . .’ He hummed a few tuneless notes, then did a quick dance move. ‘Ay, Macarena!’

‘Shut. Up!’ Macy snapped. ‘I hate that song. It came out when I was a kid, and made my life absolute hell. So I’m just Macy, okay? Don’t call me that other thing or I’ll kick your ass.’ She considered whom she was threatening. ‘Okay, not going to happen, but I’ll still be pissed at you. And don’t tell Dr Wilde, either.’ ‘Wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Eddie, already trying to think up the funniest way to do exactly that.

He showed their passports to the doormen, then had an idea and asked how to find the Team Osiris party, receiving directions in return. Following them, he and Macy reached the gaming room. He could hear the idling racing car outside even through the closed and curtained high windows; casinos invariably kept gamblers shielded from the cycles of night and day, preferring them to lose track of time while playing.

Two more doormen guarded the courtyard door, politely but firmly turning them away when they were unable to produce an invitation. Eddie peered past them, seeing no sign of Nina or Osir - though he did notice people going through a doorway into another part of the casino.

Looking past the banks of slot machines along the room’s side he saw another exit, a second pair of casino employees in attendance. From their position, he guessed that the doors led into the room people were entering from the courtyard. Music came from the other side as he and Macy passed them.

‘Party’s probably in there,’ he said as they headed for the far end of the gaming room. There was a door in the corner, through which he saw a member of the casino staff enter. No keypad or card lock, just an ordinary Yale, so it didn’t lead to any of the secure money-handling areas. ‘I’m going to gatecrash it.’

‘Oh, I’m an expert at that,’ Macy said. ‘Right behind you.’

‘No, you’re not. Osir’ll probably have his own security in there,’ he explained, seeing that she was about to object, ‘and I don’t want to give ’em the chance to grab you. If you’re in here and anything happens, at least you can kick up a stink. They won’t do anything in public.’

‘But what if they grab you?’

‘They’ll be sorry. Wait here and keep an eye out for me.’

She was annoyed, but remained where she was as Eddie moved away, pretending to take an interest in a nearby game of blackjack while watching the door in the corner.

It wasn’t long before it opened to admit another casino worker. Eddie waited for her to pass, then quickly slipped behind her into the corridor beyond. In one direction lay the casino’s kitchens; in the other a similar service door led into the function room.

He opened it and glanced through the crack, seeing at least a hundred people, some playing at more gaming tables, others engaged in conversation. A few couples waltzed round an open area of floor before a string quartet.

He tensed as he spotted Diamondback, his snakeskin jacket unmistakable. If he was there, Shaban probably was too, which also meant . . .

‘There you are, you bugger.’ Osir was seated at a blackjack table - and Nina was beside him, dressed to the nines.

He made his way past the dancers. Diamondback - and Shaban, he saw - stood several yards from the cult leader, in discussion with another group. There were some suited hulks closer to Osir, bodyguards, but they wouldn’t recognise him. Keeping partygoers between himself and Shaban, Eddie headed for the table.

Nina had three cards in her hand, totalling eighteen points; Osir, beside her, was standing on nineteen, while the dealer’s visible card was a king. The two other players had bust. She pursed her lips. ‘Hmm. Tough choice.’

‘The odds are not in your favour,’ Osir told her.

‘I dunno. I feel lucky tonight.’ She tapped the table. ‘Hit me.’

The dealer put down another card. A three.

‘Twenty-one,’ Nina crowed. ‘Whaddya know?’ The dealer turned over his hole card; a jack. More chips were slid across to Nina’s pile.

Osir laughed. ‘You are very lucky tonight.’

‘Ah, not so much. My mom taught me how to play when I was a kid - all the stuff about when to hit and when to stand’s coming back. Plus, I’m good at math.’

He gave her a sly smile. ‘Are you admitting to card-counting, Nina? The casino won’t like that.’

She had been - even with four decks in the shoe, enough cards had been played for her to calculate that the number of remaining low-value cards was relatively high and adjust her strategy accordingly - but decided he didn’t need to know about her skill at mental arithmetic. ‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ she said instead. ‘Besides, it’s your party - and your money. So you get to make the rules.’

‘Some things are true in life as well as in cards.’ He gestured to the dealer to set up the next game.

‘Ay up,’ said a gruff Yorkshire voice behind her. Several fifty-euro notes were tossed on to the table. ‘Can anyone play?’

Nina looked round. ‘Eddie!’ she cried, delighted - before remembering that she ought to be anything but. Hoping her outburst had been taken as surprise, she put on a strident, angry tone. ‘What the hell are you doing here, you son of a bitch?’

He blinked, bewildered. ‘Eh?’

‘After what you said to me in Paris?’ She stood, getting in his face. ‘You can go to hell, you sanctimonious bastard.’

A look of deep hurt replaced confusion . . . before he finally remembered that Nina’s plan required her to play a role, which meant he had to do the same. ‘There’s, er, there’s no way I’m going to let you go. Nobody walks out on me. Nobody!’

A tip of Osir’s head told his bodyguards to close in. He stared at Eddie with a look of vague recognition. ‘Who is this . . . gentleman, Nina?’

‘My husband,’ Nina growled. ‘My ex-husband, before too long.’

‘Eddie Chase,’ Eddie said to Osir. ‘I already know who you are.’

The look crystallised. ‘From the Osirian Temple in Paris. Of course.’

Shaban and Diamondback hurried over. ‘Khalid!’ Shaban hissed, leaning close to his brother. ‘I told you we couldn’t trust her!’

‘I don’t want him here any more than you do,’ said Nina.

Diamondback advanced. ‘Then maybe we should see him offa the premises.’

Osir smiled as he raised a hand. ‘No, no. Mr Chase wanted to play blackjack, and I would never deny any man that pleasure.’ He gestured to the chair on Nina’s other side. The man sitting there quickly stood and moved away. ‘Please, take a seat.’

‘Khalid, can’t you just get rid of him?’ Nina complained.

‘It would be rude to throw him out after he’s come all this way.’ As Eddie took the offered seat, Osir watched him closely. ‘Besides, I’m very interested in finding out what kind of man can claim your heart.’

‘Try anything with her and you’ll find out,’ said Eddie.

Nina sighed theatrically. ‘Eddie, you’re just embarrassing yourself. I said I don’t want to see you, so why can’t you just leave it at that?’

‘ ’Cause you’re my wife, and you’re supposed to do what I tell you. Love, honour, obey, remember?’ She jabbed his ankle with the pointed toe of her shoe; he nudged her to remind her to play along. ‘So,’ he said as he received his chips, ‘we going to play some pontoon, or what?’

‘The bet is fifty euros, minimum.’ Osir nodded to the dealer, who began passing out cards.

‘Actually,’ said Eddie, ‘this is all a bit James Bondy, innit? Having a game of cards with the mastermind.’ He looked up at Shaban and Diamondback. ‘Henchmen hanging around . . .’

‘My brother is hardly a henchman,’ Osir replied amiably, checking his cards. A king and a four; fourteen points. The dealer’s visible card was a ten. ‘Hit me.’ A six. ‘Stand.’

Nina had a three and a five. ‘Hit me,’ she said, repeating the command after getting another five. The fourth card was a seven. ‘Stand.’

Now it was Eddie’s turn, starting with a jack and a six. ‘Hit me.’ Another six. ‘Oh, cock.’

The remaining player also bust. The dealer turned up his hole card: a seven. Blackjack rules forced him to stand on seventeen, meaning Nina and Osir both won their bets. ‘Perhaps blackjack isn’t your game, Mr Chase,’ Osir said smugly.

‘That was just my warm-up round.’ Another hand began, Eddie again going bust on his third card. ‘Bollocks!’

Osir laughed. ‘Not so much James Bond as Austin Powers, hmm?’

‘Third time lucky.’ Another hand. ‘In the name of arse!’

‘I really think you should quit,’ Nina said through her teeth, having the awful feeling that a chunk of their rent money was disappearing with each round.

‘I’m just getting started.’

‘Yeah, at losing!’

Eddie’s next two cards were an ace and a queen: blackjack. He grinned. ‘I don’t think you can lose with twenty-one.’

The dealer also scored a natural blackjack. ‘Oi, wait, what?’ Eddie objected as his chips were whisked away to one side. ‘That was a draw!’

‘You should have made an insurance bet,’ said Osir, unconcerned about losing the round. ‘Now you have a push - your bet carries over to the next hand.’

‘I knew that,’ Eddie said after an awkward pause. The next round began, only for him to bust again. ‘Buggeration and fuckery!’ He looked at the empty space where his small pile of chips had been, then at Osir’s multiple stacks. ‘You couldn’t do me a favour, could you?’

‘I already have,’ Osir said, with meaning. He looked round as the string quartet started a new tune. ‘Ah! A tango!’ He stood, holding out a hand to Nina. ‘Would you join me?’

She froze; not because of Osir’s offer itself, but at the memories of social embarrassment it brought back. ‘I, ah, I can’t dance the tango. I can’t dance the anything.’

‘No need to worry,’ he said firmly. ‘I lead; all you have to do is follow.’ Before she could protest, he led her to the dance floor.

Eddie got up, only to have two of Osir’s goons block his way. ‘Hey! I want to talk to you, Nina!’

She got his message, returning one of her own. ‘It’ll have to wait!’

Despite how ridiculous she knew she was being - there were far weightier matters for her to worry about - Nina became more self-conscious than ever when she saw that the other dancing couples had bailed out. And with Osir being the host of the party, attention would be even more focused on him and his partner. ‘Y’know, if they played the conga, I could just about manage that.’

‘Trust me,’ he said. He brought her to the centre of the floor, one arm tight round her waist while the other held her outstretched hand. ‘Just look into my eyes, and your body will follow.’

And with that, they were moving.

Nina barely held in a startled yelp as Osir whisked her across the floor. ‘Oh, God,’ she gasped, struggling to keep her legs even vaguely in step with his. About the only positive thing was that her long dress concealed the worst of her uncoordinated footwork. ‘I can’t do this!’

‘Such negativity! I’m surprised,’ Osir said, eyes fixed on hers. ‘After everything you’ve achieved, you’re afraid of a simple dance?’

‘No, I’m afraid of making an ass of myself !’

He laughed. ‘Why? Is the opinion of these people you don’t even know important to you? Could anything they say be worse than what you’ve endured in the past months?’

‘The bloke’s got a point,’ said Eddie, quick-stepping alongside them. ‘And I kept telling you the same thing, so we can’t both be wrong.’ He slid a hand between Nina and Osir. ‘Mind if I cut in?’

‘By all means,’ said the Egyptian, smoothly releasing Nina and stepping back.

Shaban rushed up beside him. ‘They are working together. I told you!’

Osir shook his head, his smile infuriating his brother. ‘Let’s see what happens.’

‘Eddie, what are you doing?’ Nina whispered as he took hold of her. ‘You can’t dance!’

‘Says who?’ He glanced at the quartet before looking back into her eyes. ‘ “Por Una Cabeza” - a tango. Doddle.’

‘What? Since when - aah!’ He set off in step with the music, carrying her with him. To her amazement, he seemed to know what he was doing. ‘When did you learn how to dance? You can’t stand even being in the same room when Dancing With The Stars is on!’

‘You know those mornings I was with Amy?’

‘Amy?’ Nina frowned, then tried to push away. ‘That cop?’

‘Hey, hey!’ he hissed, holding her. ‘She was having dancing lessons, and I went with her.’

‘Oh, is “dancing lessons” a euphemism now?’

‘No, it’s actual dancing lessons! Hold on tight - one front ocho comin’ up!’

‘One what?’ Nina began, before Eddie turned her sharply round, then back again. Her heels clattered frantically over the floor. They ended up pressed face to face. ‘Whoa! So when - why did you learn to dance? You hate dancing!’

‘I wanted to surprise you. At the wedding reception.’

‘What wedding reception?’

‘The one I was going to sort out when I got some money, so we could actually have our family and friends there instead of just the Justice of the Peace! A bit late, I know, but I wanted to do something nice for you.’

‘Oh my God,’ said Nina, taken aback. ‘You actually learned how to dance, just for me? That’s . . . that’s so sweet.’

‘Oi,’ he warned. ‘Don’t smile. We’re supposed to hate each other.’

She clamped her mouth shut, trying to scowl rather than grin like a fool. ‘But why pick dancing?’

‘ ’Cause you only own maybe three DVDs, and two of ’em are about dancing. Dirty Dancing, Strictly Ballroom . . .’

‘Eddie, this is very lovely and romantic, but just because I like watching dancing doesn’t mean I can actually do it.’

He was surprised. ‘I thought you could!’

‘Livin’ proof that I can’t, right in front of you!’ She clumsily followed him as he turned, seeing Osir still watching . . . with growing mistrust. ‘Look, the zodiac’ll be ready by the time we go back to his yacht. We came into Monaco on a boat, a tender or whatever it’s called - it’s on pier twelve in the harbour. You can’t miss it - it’s painted the same colours as his racing cars. If you can follow it to his yacht—’

‘No way I’m going to leave you with him - he thinks he’s pulled!’

‘It’s the only way to find the pyramid. You’ve got to get out of here.’ An idea. ‘Slap me.’

Eddie was aghast. ‘I’m not going to bloody slap you!’

‘We’ve got to convince him we’ve split up.’ She raised her voice from the sotto level of their discussion, enough to be heard over the music as she attempted to twist free of his hold. ‘You son of a bitch! I was finished with you before, and I’m twice as finished now! Slap me,’ she added from the corner of her mouth, seeing Osir and Shaban approaching. ‘You - you needle-dicked limey asshole!’

Eddie’s face contorted in dismayed disbelief - then he slapped her. The blow wasn’t hard, but the crack was loud enough to catch everyone’s attention. ‘Sorry,’ he mumbled.

‘Sorry!’ she replied, just as surreptitiously, before shoving him back. The string quartet stopped mid-note, watching the disturbance.

Osir interposed himself between them. ‘I think you should leave, Mr Chase.’

‘You know what? You’re welcome to her,’ he snarled. ‘Crap party anyway.’

Shaban and Diamondback hurried over. ‘We’ll show him out,’ announced Shaban. The bodyguards lumbered through the crowd to surround Eddie. ‘The back way.’

‘Get your fucking hands off me,’ Eddie said as a suited goon grabbed his upper arm. He jerked away, only for another man to seize him from the other side.

‘You can throw him in the harbour for all I care,’ Nina shouted, horribly aware that Shaban undoubtedly planned something much worse. ‘Get the hell out of here, Eddie!’

That thought was foremost in Eddie’s mind. The first goon regained his hold on his arm, and they frogmarched him to the service door. Shaban and Diamondback followed right behind them, the latter with an expectant grin. If they got him out of sight of the casino’s visitors and staff, he would be seriously outnumbered and outgunned, as he doubted that Diamondback was the only armed member of Osir’s security team.

Twenty feet to the door, ten. It was a natural choke point - if both goons tried to hustle him through at once, their movements would be restricted enough to give him a chance to strike. But if they were halfway competent, they would be expecting it . . .

The door opened just before they reached it. A waiter stepped through, carrying a tray bearing several bottles of expensive wine.

He was quite a big guy, heavy—

With both goons still firmly holding his arms, Eddie suddenly hoisted his feet off the ground and kicked the waiter hard in the stomach.

The unfortunate man flew backwards, bottles falling - but Newton’s third law held true, the force of the impact knocking both Eddie’s captors back in reaction. They collided with Shaban and Diamondback. All five men tumbled to the floor in an unruly heap . . .

With Eddie on top.

He yanked his arms free, elbowing one man in the groin and rolling to a blackjack table. The service door was his best hope of escape - but before he could run through it swung shut, the lock clicking. No time to search the winded waiter for his key.

‘You fucker!’ Diamondback spat. The American flailed out from under the convulsing bodyguard, clawing for a revolver—

Eddie snatched a card shuffling machine from the table and fired a stream of cards into his face like angry moths. Diamondback threw up his hand to protect his eyes, the half-drawn revolver clunking to the carpet. Eddie hurled the shuffler at his head, scoring a solid-sounding hit, then ran for the entrance to the main lounge.

He risked a glance at Nina as he barged through the startled partygoers, seeing her quickly suppress an enthusiastic Go, Eddie! smile as he reached the doors.

16

The two men outside responded to the commotion as Eddie burst into the casino. He punched one backwards, but his companion lunged to tackle the troublemaker—

He suddenly fell on his face with a bang. Eddie leapt over him into the lounge, finding Macy just outside the door with one foot outstretched where she had tripped the attendant. ‘Thanks,’ he mouthed. She was about to follow him, but he firmly shook his head, gesturing for her to lose herself in the crowd before anyone realised they were together. Just escaping the casino on his own would be tricky enough.

She reluctantly backed away as Eddie rushed across the room between the startled gamblers. Behind, Shaban was screaming orders, Osir’s two other bodyguards thundering in pursuit. The pair of attendants at the courtyard entrance also ran to intercept him, weaving round the gaming tables.

The main doors - but casino security staff crashed through them, walkie-talkies crackling. All the gaming areas were closely monitored by CCTV to watch for cheats, whether punters or employees: the alarm had been raised the moment trouble started.

Boxed in. He needed a distraction—

A woman in the casino’s uniform was taking a tray of chips to a roulette table. Eddie ran to her - and kicked the tray. Its contents flew into the air, raining down on the surrounding tables like multicoloured hailstones.

The response was instant chaos.