Chapter Six

In the deepest part of the tomb, Sergeant Dan Vickers was beginning to regret taking this job. He despised caves. Too many tight places. Not being able to see an exit made him antsy. Whenever he pulled watchdog duty inside the tomb, Vickers spent half the time looking over his shoulder. He hated patrolling in the dark where he couldn’t see who might be sneaking up behind him.

A hand goosed him, causing Vickers to flinch and curse.

His mate, Corporal Teddy Quig, sprung from the gloom and doubled over laughing. “You should see your face, Vick. White as an Englishman’s arse.”

Vickers punched his shoulder. “Cut it out.”

Quig was always pulling pranks. There was a lot of tension around camp, especially since the disappearances started happening. Quig did his best to keep everybody entertained. Most of the soldiers laughed at his jokes. Sometimes, though, he took his pranks too far.

“Keep it up, me mate, and one day you’re gonna get your head blown off.”

“Last time, Vick, promise.” Quig offered his best gold-toothed grin. On some of the previous digs he’d worked, he’d been paid in gold pieces. He had them made into caps for four of his front teeth. “My mouth is worth more than my savings,” he liked to brag. Vickers believed him, because every pound Teddy Quig earned bought him pints at the Lamb and Flag.

Quig leaned against the rock wall. He lit two cigs and handed one to Vickers. The two soldiers smoked as they watched the Egyptian workers slam picks against a rock wall that blocked a passage to whatever the hell was on the other side. Probably another chamber. More dusty bones and relics. The tomb was full of junk – broken pottery and creepy dolls tangled in ancient webs. Some objects glittered with gold or colored gemstones. Vickers would be more excited if he got a cut of the find, but it all went to the museum. The archaeologists logged every piece. Once, when he and Quig were guarding one of the storage tents, Vickers suggested they steal a little treasure for themselves. He had run his hand through a pile of gold scarab beetles patterned with emerald stones. “Bet they wouldn’t miss a few.”

“Gosswick will have your bollocks if you so much as think about it,” Quig had said.

Vickers had dropped the scarabs, feeling guilty. Quig was such a do-gooder. It made Vickers wonder how they ended up mates.

He didn’t really need to steal from their boss. The mercenaries were paid fair enough to protect Dr. Trummel’s team and guard the booty coming out of the caves. They didn’t earn enough to retire rich, mind you, but enough to live damned good for a few months and buy some fun nights with the whores back in Brixton. Vickers might even do some traveling after this job. He’d heard the Greek isles were filled with exotic women who swam naked in crystal waters. Now that was Vickers’s idea of heaven on earth. Quig went on about how much he missed his mother’s cooking and his gal back home. Doris in her knickers and Mum’s cottage pie were Quig’s versions of heaven.

The workers stopped hammering and began conversing in Arabic. At the center of the wall made of neatly masoned stones, a large hole began to form. Vickers tossed his cigarette. “Time to see what’s on the other side.” He whistled and yelled at the workers to move aside. He pulled a torch off the wall, climbed up a mound of rubble, and shone it through the craggy hole.

“See any more mummies?” Quig asked.

“Nah, just another bloody passage. Tighter than this one.”

The tunnel beyond the wall curved slightly and vanished into the deepest blackness Vickers had ever seen. His neck bristled as he stared into it. A chill pressed against his face and seemed to seep into his skull. He called over the strongest worker in the group. “Musa. Go have a look.” He handed the big man the torch.

Musa scaled the rock wall. He squeezed through the hole and jumped down on the other side. The light from his flame illuminated a hallway with decorative walls.

“Find out how far it goes,” Vickers ordered. He wanted to make sure there was something worth finding. If this was a dead end, there were plenty of other blocked passages to clear.

Musa’s rippling torchlight moved farther and farther away until it disappeared around the curve. Moments later, the man screamed.