The Seven Seals of Egypt

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Hatshepsut’s Temple is an ancient funerary shrine situated on the west bank of the Nile, close to the Valley of the Kings and dedicated to Amun, the Egyptian sun god. Its beauty is unmatched, one of the most outstanding monuments that remains on the earth today. Drake heard Crouch state all this and more, but didn’t fully understand until he saw it with his own eyes.

He stopped in his tracks, stunned. First, he noticed the enormous cliffs rearing up behind, sandy colored, as if tasked to protect the ancient shrine. The building itself, whilst huge, was dwarfed by the cliffs and the bright blue spread of sky above. Drake saw three levels, a wide ramp leading up to the second. Rows and rows of pillars fronted the shrine, evoking a sense of classical architecture. The ramp and the second level were crammed with tourists and the noise level swelled as they approached.

“Any ideas where to look?” Kinimaka asked.

Crouch shook his head. “We may only get one crack at this. Time is short. Don’t rush, just cover every square inch, and—” he tapped the side of his head “—call in the moment you find something.”

Drake took a moment to stand at the top of the ramp, turn, and study the crowd behind them. Nothing suspicious presented himself so he turned toward the pillars and the darker, cooler areas within. It took a while for his eyes to adjust and then he started paying close attention to the walls, the ceiling, the pillars, just as before. The area back there was narrow, thankfully so as it gave them less ground to cover. The floor consisted of smooth, seemingly haphazard paving, gray in color, and what few depictions there were on the bodies of the pillars were worn and hard to make out. Still, Drake saw nothing even remotely looking like a capstone.

The team completed the outer sweep and moved into the inner courtyard, seeing another row of pillars and tired, sandy walls full of depictions. Again they split up and walked across to study every inch.

Drake kept an eye on the tourists and the locals, noting that Smyth and Kenzie were doing the same. The atmosphere inside was low-key and pleasant, everyone knowing what to expect and quietly awed by the ancient construction. The day stretched out ahead of them.

“Is this weird?” Alicia asked.

Drake frowned. “Is what weird?”

“Us. Like this. I mean… fugitives? Really? I know I’ve been on the run most of my life but not like this. Every uniform, every cop I see, even the sound of an approaching siren — it’s all suddenly a concern, you know?”

“I get it.” Drake nodded. “And if it wasn’t for Michael needing our help we’d be on top of it by now. I’m sure we would, love—”

“We don’t even know who burned us,” she interrupted. “Or why. Crowe would be a good place to start.”

“True, but I don’t think she’s behind it all. At worst, she’s compliant. Either way, they need taking down. Especially, as Hayden suggested, there may be more teams.”

Alicia nodded at that. “It would be naïve to think we’re the only ones affected.”

“We’ll get there,” Drake assured her with a clear, open look. “We will.”

“I know.” Alicia turned her attention to the wall and the pictures there. Drake stayed close, again scanning the crowd. A quick flick of the comms and a chat assured him that everyone was where they should be.

Crouch spoke up then. “Nothing here, I’m afraid. We should head down. Try the lower level.”

The team agreed, heading for the ramp again with its central stairs. It was mid-afternoon by now, the tourists out in full flow and the sunshine as hot as it was going to get. They took their time descending, broke out water and snacks, then looked at the lower row of pillars that stood before them.

A few minutes later they were in that shade again, searching, hoping to find the lost symbol.

Drake heard a distant roar, dull at first but gradually growing louder. It wasn’t the approach of anything airborne, nor a powerful car. It was something else.

“You hear that?” He turned and shaded his eyes, staring back toward the road and parking areas.

The approaching roar was not alone. Several engine notes could be heard.

“My ears tell me that’s a Ducati Panigale,” Drake said. “Anyone else?”

“It’s a motorbike, Drake.” Alicia shook her head. “You’re such a child sometimes.”

“Hey…”

Crouch was alongside him now. “It is a Panigale,” he said. “And an MV Augusta if I’m not mistaken. Others too. And they’re headed straight for the bloody ramp!”

Drake knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. The riders were large, double-teamed, the bikes the fastest of their kind on the planet that day. Five of them — ten men — and they were headed straight across the car park directly through two masses of tourists, sending them diving and screaming out of the way.

“What is this?” Hayden asked in surprise. “An assault? Here? Surely not.”

“Well, whatever it is, we should prepare.” Crouch unslung his backpack.

Drake scanned for guards, knowing the Egyptians would be entirely on their toes when it came to something like this. “The security?” he breathed. “It’s all gone. There were armed police there.” He pointed. “And there. A couple of undercovers I spotted too. But… now…”

“It begs the question,” Dahl grunted. “Who on earth are the mercs working for?”

“Someone with the capability to pull the guards away,” Hayden said.

Drake watched all five bikes, their helmeted riders and passengers using the machines to a great degree of their potential, approach the base of the ramp. Quickly, they slowed. Civilians dashed to and fro, desperate to get away from the area. Their screams were almost enough to drown out the roar of the Kawasaki Ninja that Drake had his eye on, but not quite.

“Let’s make ’em pay for this.”

He stepped out of the shade, around a column, and one of the bikers saw him. Shouts went up and helmet visors were raised. One man gunned the engine of a Honda Fireblade, the other opened the throttle of the Ninja. Both bikes spurted toward him.

The SPEAR team spread out around the far side of the bottom level of Hatshepsut’s temple, stood in the heat and beneath the cloudless blue sky, weapons ready, studying the terrain and the scene. Civilians were beyond the oncoming bikes and nobody would risk a stray bullet at this stage.

The fifth bike in the procession — Drake recognized it as an Aprilia RSV — also veered off the path and darted across the dried-out desert, closing the gap at rapid pace. Two bikes remained near the ramp, their occupants staring over at Drake and the team through black visors, surrounded now by angry, mystified people. The bikers ignored everything; they just stared.

Drake and the others had no choice; as the bikes powered closer, engines roaring, they raised weapons. Still no sign of the cops. What the hell is going on?

He sighted the Ninja’s rider, the very center of his pitch-black helmet. What were they up to? Something smelled decidedly off about the entire attack.

“I have a feeling we’ve been outthought,” Dahl said.

Then the Ninja’s rider held up a hand, slowing before Drake and Dahl. He stopped and then waited a moment, dust swirling around him. The other bikes pulled up too, all six riders holding gloved hands in the air.

The first rider climbed off his bike. Alicia held up her own right hand. “What the fuck is going on, CHiPs?”

The man took a moment to remove his helmet. A hard, Eastern European face presented itself, pockmarked and forever bereft of smiles. This man had grown up hard and had only known hardship.

“Who is your leader?” The accent was thick, the English perplexing at best.

“I am.” Hayden stepped forward.

At the same time, Drake said: “Me.”

And Crouch coughed. “Well, I guess you could say—”

“Stop!” the biker snarled. His colleagues were in the process of dismounting and gathering threateningly at his back.

“We’re an unconventional crew.” Mai smiled.

“It does not matter!” the man shouted.

“Then why did you ask?” Alicia said innocently. “C’mon, Barry Sheene, it’s too hot out here for foreplay. Give it to me right between the eyes.”

“You come with us.” The man took a breath and wiped his streaming brow. “You all come with us now.”

Drake stared. “I don’t think so, pal.”

“Then you will cause the death of all these people.” The merc couldn’t keep a vicious smile from lighting his eyes. “I do not care either way.”

Drake and Dahl indicated their gun hands. “You’re the one standing in the sights.”

“Maybe.” The merc pulled out a phone and turned the screen toward the SPEAR team. “Watch.”

Drake squinted as the rest crowded around. Slowly, the potential scenario became clear and Drake felt an ice-cold torrent of horror drop straight through his body.

“No,” he breathed. “You… you can’t do that.”

The merc smiled nastily.