The Forbidden Tomb

73

The arrangement between Cobb and Hassan was simple: Cobb wanted to rescue Jasmine without being chased by goons, and Hassan wanted to kill the men who blew up Alexandria. Though they weren’t exactly working together to accomplish their goals, they had agreed to assist each other for the time being.

Or, at the very least, stay out of each other’s way.

Cobb still had plenty of reservations about Hassan, but he knew the gangster had one thing at his disposal that he didn’t have: a legion of gun-toting thugs who would happily charge into battle if it meant winning favor with their boss.

With this in mind, Cobb had placed a call to Simon Dade, who was running down leads of his own in Alexandria while being shadowed by the giant Kamal, and told him to get word to the crime lord about the compound in the Western Desert.

As for details, Cobb would only provide the GPS coordinates of where to meet, rather than directions to the bunker itself. Cobb knew it would take several hours for Hassan to rally his troops and drive across Egypt. This had given Cobb and McNutt plenty of time to do a rekky, tap into the surveillance system, and formulate a plan of attack.

By 4 a.m. the caravan from Alexandria had made it to the staging ground a few miles east of the bunker. Cobb had chosen this particular patch of desert for its proximity to the thoroughfare that ran between el-Bawiti and Siwa. The spot was accessible, yet secluded. It was far enough away from the bunker to avoid the enemy’s patrol, but it was close enough to mount an attack. And their arrival in the dead of night would give them at least a few hours before anyone questioned their presence.

Hassan’s men were ready for battle.

All they needed was a target.

When Cobb arrived at the rendezvous point, he expected to see an assortment of beat-up trucks and a ragtag group of criminals. Instead, he saw a fleet of Humvees lined up across the sand and scores of men in desert camouflage. For a moment, Cobb wondered if the Egyptian military had somehow gotten wind of Hassan’s activity and had moved in to intercede. But then he saw Kamal, whose unmistakable size stood head and shoulders above the others, and instantly understood who these men were.

Hassan hadn’t rounded up a bunch of street thugs.

This was his personal battalion.

Cobb approached the lead car — an opulent Mercedes-Benz G-Class fit for a prince — and sensed that all guns were trained on him. Kamal quickly stepped forward to cut him off before Cobb could knock on the tinted window. From that action alone, he knew that Hassan was sitting inside the luxury SUV.

‘Where’s Simon?’ Cobb asked as the two men came face to chest.

‘Safe,’ Kamal replied. ‘In car.’

Cobb shook his head. ‘Tell your boss that Simon comes with me. You don’t need him anymore. Tell him that once Dade is free, I’ll lead you and the others to the Muharib stronghold. You can kill them all as far as I’m concerned. I just want the girl.’

Kamal retreated to the Mercedes and spoke through a crack in the lowered window. A moment later, the rear door opened and Dade exited. As he walked toward Cobb, it was clear that he had expected his host to kill him and bury him in the desert.

‘Well, I guess I owe you again,’ Dade said.

‘Nope, just Sarah,’ Cobb replied. ‘She was worried about you, by the way.’

‘Good to know. Where is she?’

Cobb smiled as he extended his hand. ‘She’s sitting this one out.’

Dade thought the greeting was odd until he felt the small earpiece in Cobb’s palm. He fought the urge to smile as he took the device and slipped it into his ear while he pretended to adjust the stocking cap on his head. ‘Sorry I missed her.’

Sarah laughed in his ear. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll meet up soon enough.’

Kamal, oblivious to the deception, was growing restless. He hadn’t driven all this way to stand around while Dade chatted with Cobb.

‘No more talk. Time to fight.’

Cobb nodded in agreement. ‘Have your men grab whatever they need. We go the rest of the way on foot.’

Kamal shouted instructions in Arabic, causing five trucks’ worth of men to assemble beside him. They were heavily armed and bouncing with anticipation.

Cobb pointed toward the Mercedes. ‘What about your boss?’

Kamal shook his massive head. ‘He stay here.’

Cobb shrugged. ‘Okay then. Follow me.’

Ten minutes later, Cobb ordered the men to hold their position at the edge of the patrolled territory. It was as far as they could go without risking an ambush. He knew the shadow warriors were out there in the night, ready to defend their land at all cost.

Cobb stared into the darkness. ‘Okay, Josh. Help me out.’

McNutt stared through his scope from a half a mile away. From his vantage point atop a small dune, his night optics gave him a clear view of the scene. ‘On it, chief. You’ve got men approaching. Directly at your twelve.’

Cobb looked straight ahead, trying to see the men that McNutt had spotted. But he saw nothing but sand. ‘I can’t—’

His voice cut off as the shadows seemingly materialized in front of him. One moment they weren’t there; the next a half-dozen were heading his way.

Then six became twelve.

And twelve became twenty.

And suddenly, they were everywhere.

A sound like thunder rolled across the desert as Kamal opened fire. A single shot was all it took for the others to know that the battle was on. A second later, Hassan’s men fired multiple rounds into the night. Bullets sprayed in every direction as the enemy swarmed, forcing the men to defend themselves from all sides. They tried to fend off the shadow warriors as best they could, but their efforts seemed to be in vain.

No matter how many times they shot, the ghosts just kept coming.

Armed with nothing but ancient blades.

McNutt watched as the shadow warriors rose from the sand, as if they had emerged from the Underworld itself. It was a pretty neat trick, one that kept him on his toes as he carried out his one and only responsibility: protecting Cobb from harm.

As wave after wave of swordsmen charged toward Cobb, McNutt zeroed in on those who posed the biggest threat. With each squeeze of the trigger, another enemy fell — most with a gaping hole in his head or chest.

‘Chief,’ he said, ‘permission to shoot both sides?’

‘Not yet. Let the gunmen help us for now, but if they turn on me at any time, you do what you do best.’

McNutt grinned. ‘Sweet.’

From their base camp near Siwa, Garcia ignored the firefight that raged in the desert and focused on the activity below. His map of the stronghold wasn’t entirely complete, but it was getting close. By cross-referencing the video feeds that he was watching with the blueprint of the compound, he could determine where the troops were headed.

Earlier, while combing through the footage, Garcia had noticed a series of narrow cylinders that rose from the bunker up through the sand. At first he thought they were ventilation shafts, but when he saw someone climbing toward the surface, he understood their true purpose. They were access tubes. Like the tunnels of the Viet Cong that stretched across Vietnam, these access tubes provided the Muharib with multiple entry and exit points all across the desert landscape.

‘Jack, you’ve got twenty more climbing to the north.’

Right on cue, nearly two-dozen warriors appeared. Cobb watched as they stormed in from the hidden shafts just beyond his view.

Despite their cache of artillery, the Muharib carried only swords. The weapons had served them well for centuries, and there was no reason to believe their tradition would fail them now. In their time of need, they relied upon what they knew best.

They preferred ancient blades to antique guns.

Garcia continued his analysis. ‘The numbers are looking pretty good. This might be the best chance we get. Most of the men have gone topside.’

‘Copy that,’ Cobb said with his hand to his ear. ‘We’re a go for phase two. Repeat. Go for phase two.’

Dade had arrived unarmed, but that quickly changed during the course of the battle. He borrowed a rifle from one of the dead goons and fired it at anyone with a sword.

Though he was grateful that Cobb had rescued him, he wondered if he wasn’t better off back in the Mercedes with Hassan. He was tempted to head back to the car when he heard Cobb’s command to commence with phase two.

‘What the hell is phase two?’ he asked.

It was Sarah who answered. ‘Simon, listen closely. Turn west, and sprint like your life depends on it… because it does!’

Dade looked to his right and hesitated, seeing nothing but desert. He assumed it was filled with assassins, just waiting to cut him down. ‘To where?’

‘To me!’ Sarah shouted. ‘I need your help. Now!’

He took a deep breath. ‘On my way.’

As Dade sprinted forward, Cobb began his retreat.

It wasn’t an act of cowardice; it was part of the plan.

Even though the shadow warriors had taken Jasmine and blown up the city, Hassan’s men weren’t exactly saints. He had heard the stories of how they ruled their territory. He also knew that they hadn’t followed him into the cistern to help him out. He was sure that they had been sent to kill him and his team, and he sensed that they still might try once the battle was over.

If that was the case, why help them win?

It didn’t make any sense.

So Cobb pulled back to the relative safety of a nearby boulder and took a knee. With McNutt watching over him, all he had to do was separate himself from the chaos and keep his distance while the two sides slugged it out in the desert sand. As far as he was concerned, he hoped that the battle dragged on all night because the war was thinning the ranks of both sides and distracting the Muharib from his team’s ultimate goal: sneaking inside and rescuing Jasmine.