Brandon gazed around area surrounding the Sphinx, looking for any sign of security guards. An occasional Land Rover came by but it seemed there were no foot patrols. It had been several days since their escape from Muburak and in that time they had assembled what they needed for their expedition under the Sphinx. India now wore khaki trousers and jacket, bringing amused comparisons from Brandon about a female Indiana Jones, while he wore plain trousers and his favoured British army camouflaged jacket. They both carried small rucksacks containing various items they might need.
‘Come on,’ whispered Brandon, and clambered over the low wall. He and India crouched and ran toward the front of the Sphinx. In the day it was impressive but in the dark, it was intimidating. They reached the sun-baked bricks at the base of the statue’s chest and crouched down as Brandon took off his small pack and his jacket.
‘Here,’ he said, handing his jacket to India, ‘hold this over me.’
India opened up the jacket and held it over Brandon’s head as he examined the lock with a tiny torch.
‘You are right,’ he said quietly, ‘it’s just an ordinary padlock.’ He retrieved a small set of bolt croppers from within his pack and cut the lock away before swinging the hinged metal plate to one side.
‘Ready?’ he asked.
‘As ready as I’ll ever be,’ said India.
They dropped to their knees and crawled through the small opening. Once inside, there was enough room to stand up and Brandon gave India something from his pack.
‘What’s this?’ she asked.
‘A head torch, put it around your forehead, it’ll leave your hands free in case you fall. Right, if you’re ready, let’s go.’
They stepped forward carefully and followed the passage downward. At first it was easy going but eventually the roof lowered and they had to crawl once more.
‘This doesn’t look good,’ said Brandon, ‘it seems like a dead end.’
India looked at the pile of loose rubble just ahead of Brandon.
‘It can’t be,’ she said, ‘everything points to there being a tunnel complex down here.’
‘Perhaps they haven’t excavated this part yet. This looks like a rock fall.’
India looked up at the ceiling, but the roof was intact.
‘That doesn’t make sense,’ she said and looked at the rubble again. ‘Brandon, look at that piece there.’ She pointed at an oblong brick.
‘What about it?’
‘It’s part of a mud brick and doesn’t belong here,’ she said. ‘This part of the tunnel is carved through rock. Those small boulders look genuine enough, but the nearest mud bricks are about fifty metres behind us. This one has been deliberately placed there.’
Brandon looked at the rubble.
‘There’s a few more as well,’ he said. ‘It looks like they have been brought up from the bigger passage to help block the tunnel.’
‘In that case,’ said India, ‘let’s unblock it.’
‘It could take a while,’ said Brandon.
‘I don’t think so,’ said India, ‘this looks hurried and I suspect it isn’t very thick.’
‘OK,’ said Brandon, ‘I’ll pass them back, you put them behind you.’ He started moving the looser rocks first, finding them easier than expected, and within half an hour he heard something crash on the other side.
‘What was that?’ asked India.
‘Sounds like something fell,’ said Brandon. ‘I think we are through.’ Several minutes later he had cleared a hole wide enough for them to crawl between the rubble and the passage roof. India followed him through and soon found herself on a ledge overlooking a large empty room.
‘I knew it,’ she gasped as her torch beam shone around the chamber. ‘Dr Hassan was right all along.’
‘So were you, India,’ said Brandon. ‘I’m impressed.’
‘Come on,’ she said, ‘there’s no time to waste. We need to get up to the pyramid.’ India led the way through the room and along a passage at the far end. The path led gradually downhill until they reached a relatively new door set into the walls. Once again it was locked and Brandon retrieved his bolt croppers.
‘No more than a few years old,’ said India. ‘That confirms the authorities know about this place. What I don’t understand is why they resealed the passage.’
‘Perhaps because the Sphinx draws too much attention,’ said Brandon as he cut the lock. ‘They probably know there’s a risk of this complex being discovered and are just letting the situation cool down a bit.’
‘Possibly,’ said India, ‘but I think you are too trusting. I reckon somebody knows there is more to be found down here and due to the troubles in the government, they are keeping it all under wraps until they are ready to explore further.’
‘Got it,’ said Brandon as the padlock fell away. ‘Come on, this is getting exciting.’
India followed him into the smaller passage and noted the limestone blocks around her.
‘We’re now underneath the pyramid,’ she whispered in awe.
‘Why are you whispering?’ asked Brandon. ‘There’s no one down here to hear us.’
‘Nobody except the dead,’ replied India.
Brandon ignored her and ploughed onward. The path turned sharply downward and suddenly they emerged into a small chamber formed out of limestone blocks.
‘This is it,’ said Brandon looking around, ‘the end of the line.’
India stared around the room in silence.
‘Something’s wrong,’ she said eventually. ‘Why are the walls made of limestone blocks? This room must be deep in the heart of the bedrock. Normally they would just make the rock smooth and finish it with plaster.’
‘They’re not blocks,’ said Brandon, ‘but thin casings. Look, one has fallen away over there.’ In the corner a casing had fallen away, eroded by time and the ingress of damp behind the slab. It showed the casings were only an inch thick and had been placed there to cover the rough rock surface of the original cavern. ‘Anyway,’ continued Brandon, staring at the images on the wall, ‘it’s certainly impressive, and I can see why this would be suitable for a king.’
India looked up at a shaft above her head. Brandon followed her gaze and the torchlight disappeared into the darkness.
‘Where do you think that goes?’
‘I think it connects to the pit in the lower chamber of the pyramid,’ said India. ‘That should be about twenty metres above us. At the top it’s now blocked, but thousands of years ago I think it may have been used to lower the king’s body into this room and then sealed over.’
‘Couldn’t they have brought him in the same way as we just came?’
‘No, the procession would have to have gone into the pyramid in front of the gaze of the people. Otherwise, what was the point? However, once there they could have simply brought him down the shaft and laid him out here. After that, the priests could have escaped via the Sphinx and sealed the passage up behind them.’
‘Sounds plausible,’ said Brandon. ‘That first room under the Sphinx looked like a small place of worship. Perhaps his followers paid tribute there in the years following his death.’
India looked around the chamber again. The limestone-clad walls were covered with hundreds of colourful images depicting the life of the king and in several places she could see his cartouche engraved in the stone.
‘There’s the curse,’ said India, looking at an inscription on the far wall, ‘the same one as in Omari’s tomb. At least it means we are in the right place.’
‘It would,’ said Brandon, ‘but if ever Khufu was buried down here then his body and his treasures are long gone. Take some pictures, India,’ he continued, ‘and let’s get out of here. I’m starting to get a bit spooked.’
India retrieved her camera and started to take photographs, but a minute later she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to see Brandon looking at her with a furrowed brow.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘India, did you bring those pictures you printed out, the ones from the photographs you took in Omari’s tomb?’
‘Yes, they’re in my pack. Why?’
‘Something doesn’t add up,’ said Brandon. ‘Let me see them again.’
India fished out the papers and laid them on the tomb floor.
‘What are we looking for?’ she asked.
‘Where’s the one that shows Omari paying tribute outside the king’s tomb?’
‘Um, here it is,’ said India and they both stared at it in silence. Brandon walked out into the corridor and looked above the entrance to the chamber before coming back in.
‘I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘In this picture he is shown below the image of Anubis, but outside the tomb there’s no such picture.’
‘Could have just worn away,’ said India, ‘it looks like this tomb has been empty for thousands of years.’
‘It hasn’t worn away,’ said Brandon, ‘because there wasn’t room for one in the first place. I wonder if there’s another door somewhere, perhaps hidden as part of the wall.’
They shone the torches around the room, looking for an image of Anubis amongst the many designs, but apart from a small representation just a few inches high, there was nothing.
‘Oh well,’ sighed Brandon, ‘it was just an idea.’
‘Wait,’ said India, ‘let’s not be so hasty. You are right, and the image in Omari’s tomb definitely shows him worshipping before an image of Anubis. On top of that, these decorations are certainly funerary in nature and to be frank, I’m surprised there is no effigy of Anubis anywhere to be seen. To someone this important his presence would have been essential.’
‘Apart from that little chap,’ said Brandon, pointing at the small diagram, ‘but it can’t be that one because it’s too small. Our picture shows Omari below Anubis and that one is just too low.’
‘Does it, Brandon?’ asked India, her eyes lighting up in excitement. ‘Egyptian imagery is not known for the accuracy of perspective and though the image of Anubis in Omari’s tomb was fairly big, it doesn’t mean it was the same size in real life.’ Slowly she walked over to the painting of Anubis and after another glance at Brandon, kicked the wall beneath the image.
Brandon stared at her as he realised what she was doing. Quickly he retrieved his bolt croppers and walked across the empty tomb.
‘What are you going to do with those?’ asked India.
Brandon didn’t reply but instead started tapping the surrounding limestone casings. The tone of the taps remained constant until he reached the place beneath the small image of Anubis. He glanced at India and gave the slab three taps before looking at her with a huge grin.
‘Gotcha!’ he said and tapped again, the sound coming back as a deeper, hollow tone.
‘I don’t believe it,’ gasped India, ‘there’s another passage behind the slab.’
‘There is,’ said Brandon, ‘and by the look of this, the slab has never been moved.’
‘That means,’ said India, ‘that whatever was placed there all those years ago, is probably still there.’
‘Unless robbers tunnelled from a different direction,’ said Brandon.
‘No,’ said India, ‘I don’t think they have.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because we are deep in the bedrock. There’s no way they could have known about this room and tunnelled through hundreds of yards of rock. Anyway, even if they had and ultimately gained access to the other side, then they would surely have also come through this wall to see if there were any treasures in here. No, I think whatever lies beyond this wall is intact.’
‘Well,’ said Brandon, ‘there’s only one way to find out. Sorry, Anubis old chap, but you’ve failed at your job. We’re going in.’
Without another word he swung the bolt croppers against the slab with all his strength, the noise deafening in the enclosed space. Over and over again he smashed at the wall until finally the remains of the slab lay at his feet and he kicked them to one side. As the dust settled they could see a small tunnel entrance just high enough to crawl through.
‘Well?’ asked Brandon. ‘Are you going in or not?’
‘After you,’ said India nervously.
‘No, my lady,’ joked Brandon taking a bow, ‘after you. Besides, this is what you wanted, India, go ahead, make history.’