The Vault of Hercules

Chapter 6

Purdue's legs twitched as he readied himself to run for the wall, as his Egyptian employee had suggested. He had no one else to trust, being surrounded by men who all wanted him dead for desecrating their land, so he chose to do what the Egyptian had said. However, his eyes kept finding the arcane artifact he’d come to find, the very item he’d financed the excursion for. Purdue figured that, once he managed to escape, he would never be able to return again to claim the interesting replica of the Ark of the Covenant — a most dangerous notion for someone like Purdue.

The white-haired billionaire waited for the first sign of open aggression from any of the men who leered at him.

“Go, Purdue Effendi, or else they will hang you in the desert sun for the buzzards,” the Egyptian warned quietly, his lips virtually static.

“In a moment. Just give it a moment,” Purdue replied as he propped himself up on his hands to make his flight easier when he did take off. But he did not tell his employee that he aimed for the wooden box first, before he had worked out the trajectory of his endeavor. “Listen, I’ll pay you three times your fee if you get me out of here with the Ark.”

The Egyptian looked at him in astonished bewilderment. If Purdue had not been his employer he would have answered with an exclamation of assumed lunacy for even the thought, but he couldn’t say what he truly thought. “That is quite impossible. It is madness, Effendi. We will surely be killed then.”

“Four times your fee,” Purdue persisted as the men started babbling among themselves about the correct way to dispose of the wealthy intruder. Again, the man could not believe how mercenary the rich European was. As a man of common sense, he could not fathom how Purdue could possibly make a connection between a higher price and a higher probability of success.

“It matters not what you pay me. Our chances of escape remain the same,” he tried to communicate his logic to Purdue.

“I realize that, my friend. But increasing your fee should give you some incentive to fight harder for your survival,” Purdue argued in a whisper. “Just imagine if you survived this, what you could do for your family with four times your fee.”

The Egyptian gave Purdue a look of defeated morality and unabridged malcontent, deciding that he was working for the devil and had to admit that he’d allowed the blasphemous privilege. “It is a very heavy box. It will take three to four men to carry it.”

Purdue smiled. “I venture to guess that it’s not heavy at all, my friend. Not with those clasps and hinges. Those fixtures would break under the weight of the true Ark of the Covenant. Trust me. No engineer worth his salt would tell you any different. No, there might be some value to that box, but the Power of God is definitely heavier than what that shoddy workmanship can hold.”

“Respectfully Effendi, you are a fool. A brilliant inventor and remarkable architect of technology, but a fool all the same,” the Egyptian smiled, looking hopelessly enticed by the prospect of the excitement. “Ever been in a fight with a group of bullies as a young boy?”

“Yes, constantly, in fact,” Purdue said. “Why?”

“We will have to use schoolboy tactics, Effendi,” the Egyptian sighed. With that he surreptitiously displayed to Purdue a handful of loose sand.

Purdue smiled, although his heart was throbbing wildly from the hazardous circumstances. He clutched at the ground where he was seated, filling his fists with sand while the Egyptian relayed the plan to his associate next to him.

“I asked Donkor to get our vehicle started while we make our escape, Effendi. We have no time to waste.”

“Donkor. And what is your name?” Purdue asked.

“Adjo, Effendi.”

“Alright, Adjo. I’m trusting you and Donkor to get me… and that box… out of here intact. You will be justly rewarded,” Purdue reminded him.

At once Donkor jumped up and raced towards the exit. He did it so spontaneously that it took the men a moment to realize that he was fleeing; the perfect moment of confusion to execute the rest of the plan. As they charged for the fleeing Egyptian, Purdue and Adjo raced for the box, hurling handfuls of sand and dust at the eyes of those who tried to perturb them.

Unable to see, the men fell to their knees, rubbing at their eyes while Purdue and his employee retrieved the chest with surprising ease. “Effendi! Run for the wall! Run for the wall!” Adjo urged loudly as the temporarily blinded men rose again to come after them. Purdue was still not certain about that.

“You want me to run into the wall? I'm not looking for Hogwarts, you know!” Purdue shouted as he kicked an assailant away from him. Adjo had no idea what he was talking about. “Never mind,” Purdue said and bolted for the dense, rock-hard mountain wall that made up the interior of the cave-like hall.

The men with sand in their eyes vaguely saw their associates run out after the first Egyptian escapee as they slowly regained their sight. But they were amazed to see the white man and his Egyptian lapdog hasten away with the Holy Box, disappearing as they reached the wall. What was a certain obstacle had been easily breached by the two men they chased after, sending the superstitious men to their knees in an instant.

“Glory! It truly is the Power of God!” one man shouted in repetitive chants.

“Did you see that?” another asked the others. “The Holy Box helped them to escape. The Holy Box took away the stone from their bodies so that they could pass through the mountain!”

Stunned at what they’d just witnessed, the Ethiopian village men in the cavern tried to understand why their Holy Box would aid charlatans and thieves to escape them. Was their God on the side of the white man? If so, why would He protect a thief? Why would He allow His Ark to be stolen from the people who had been protecting it for centuries? All this they could not understand and it drove them crazy. Some contemplated defecting to another faith for it; others found it to be some kind of reprimand about their conduct or their arrogance.

But none considered that the miraculous escape of the intruders had just been a trick of optics and design. Just short of the interior wall of the mountain cave, a postbox hole had been cut through to the tunnel under the floor, excavated as a fail-safe for emergencies and to allow more air into the chamber. Purdue and Adjo had simply fallen through the floor just before they reached the wall, chest and all.

Outside the exit of the tunnel, a thick brush of milkweeds covered the mouth of the sub-cavern, obscuring its existence to the eye of those who didn’t know it was there. A few meters away Purdue and Adjo could still hear some of the Ethiopians chasing after Donkor.

“Does he know where we are?” Purdue puffed, drenched in perspiration from the weighty prize he’d lugged with him.

“Yes, he knows. He helped me to construct this emergency air duct, but we have never used it as an escape route before,” Adjo smiled. “I’m quite proud of how well it worked for us.”

Purdue smiled. “As well you should be, Adjo. It’s a stroke of genius.”

From a distance they could hear a Jeep engine roaring, quickly growing louder as it headed their way.

“Come. This way,” the Egyptian told Purdue. “He will meet us at the ledge.”

“The ledge?” Purdue asked, but Adjo was too preoccupied to answer. Carrying one side of the chest, he directed Purdue where to follow by practically pulling his employer after him. They ran out over a steep hillock of weeds and loose sand, finally calming its temperatures as the day drew to a close. Around the side of the vast mountain face they dragged the artifact, slipping on large rocks that gave way under their hastening steps.

The thick, loose soil impaired their speed as they rushed to get ahead of their pursuers. Purdue's rather fit physique had met its match in the Ethiopian desert. His calves tightened and tugged at his Achilles tendons as he ascended the side of the hill. Inflamed at the exertion, his thighs screamed under the weight of his body, now exacerbated by the added force of the stolen relic.

“Good God, how far still?” he forced through panting breath as they reached a perilous ledge near the top of the mountain.

“Up ahead, Effendi. Donkor must already be waiting, which means they’re close on our heels,” Adjo huffed madly. The poor overweight man had a time of it to make it up the mountain, but he kept thinking about his reward for aiding Purdue.

“Adjo,” Purdue groaned as they carefully navigated the narrow ledge with unsure footing, “do you trust your friend Donkor not to betray us?”

“I trust him with my life, Effendi,” Adjo admitted. He looked back at Purdue with an expression dancing between a wince and a smile; a somewhat tortured happiness. “He is my little brother.”