“With the spears, you mean?” Sammi said. “I’m staying with you.”
“All right.” He dropped the coin into the hole. It clanked against the sides as it went down, and then landed on a metal surface. Machinery of some sort creaked into motion inside the pedestal, rattling the coin against what sounded like a metal pan. The sound reminded Gabriel of the mechanical coin boxes they had on New York City buses when he was a kid, the ones that sorted different types of coins from one another: halves from quarters, nickels from dimes. You’d put in a handful of change and the mechanism would decide if you’d put in the right amount. There was always someone who insisted on dropping in pennies, or Canadian money, which the mechanism wasn’t built to handle, and the line would back up out the door.
But no one got gassed for it.
Gabriel felt the muscles of his back and shoulders tense. From the expression on Sammi’s face, she was feeling the same. He looked over at the entryway. Maybe they both should leave while they could—
The sound stopped.
And a hissing began.
“Gabriel!” Sammi cried.
“No, wait,” Gabriel said, “that’s not gas, it sounds like . . . hydraulics.”
As they watched, the pedestal swung away from the cage, and then with a click the door of the cage swung open.
Gabriel released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He approached the cage and gently reached into it. He put one hand on either side of the Stone. Its surface was rough beneath his fingers. And the weight—it must have weighed over a hundred pounds. But he lifted it and brought it out, cradling it in his arms.
It was extraordinary. Nearly two thousand years old, and untouched by human hands since Napoleon’s time. A piece of history, literally.
“Well done, my friend.”
The resonant voice boomed throughout the chamber. Gabriel and Sammi spun to face it.
Reza Arif stood with several armed men behind him. Kemnebi was among them, and he had a 9mm Glock pointed at Gabriel’s head. The others held rifles.
Arif came forward. “How nice to see you again, Gabriel. And you, my dear. I do so regret that we didn’t meet under better circumstances.” He plucked the handkerchief from his breast pocket and unfolded it, laid it across his palms. “Now, Gabriel. You give me the Stone.”
Chapter 23
“As soon as Michael told me he’d contacted you, I knew it was a mistake,” Gabriel said.
Arif shrugged. “What can I say? Your family has always paid me well . . . but the Alliance of the Pharaohs pays better.”
“You bastard,” Sammi said. “You cowardly—”
Gabriel shook his head. “Sammi. Don’t.”
“Well, he is!”
Arif grinned at her. “You are right. I make no bones about it. I am not brave, like your friend here. If you like, you may call me a coward. But cowards live to toast the memories of brave men. As I shall toast yours, Gabriel. And yours, my dear Miss Ficatier.” He shook his head. “It would have been a true pleasure to have some more time alone with you. Imagine if it had been she in my cellar instead of you all those years ago, eh, Gabriel? We would not have spent the days and nights just drinking tea.”
“How did you get down here?” Gabriel said.
“Why, we followed you, of course. You left a fine trail. Even left that rope attached for us. Most helpful.”
“But the first trap, the room with the echo—”
“Yes, that,” Arif said. “Quite an intricate contraption, I am sure. But nothing several pounds of dynamite couldn’t deal with, now that the Corsicans were no longer around to interfere.”
“They’re all . . . ?”
“Dead, yes, every one of them,” Arif said. “It is just us now, Gabriel. You and I and these gentlemen here. There is no one to protect the Stone now. But never fear. The Alliance will see that it returns to its rightful home.”
“Don’t give it to him, Gabriel!”
“If you prefer, Miss Ficatier, I’m sure Kemnebi here would be happy to take it from him.”
“No,” Gabriel said. There were five men, four with guns drawn, against the two of them, Sammi armed with a flashlight and Gabriel with his hands full. “You win,” he said. “Take it.”
“Gabriel!”
“I just want your word that Lucy will be released unharmed, as Amun promised.”
“My word?” Arif clucked and sadly shook his head. “You know what my word is worth, Gabriel.”
“And you know you can name your price,” Gabriel said. “Michael will pay it.”
“Now, that I will have to think about most seriously.” He stepped forward. “The Stone, please.”
Gabriel handed it to him. Arif bent under the weight and Gabriel leaped forward, swinging his arm up and around the smaller man’s throat—but Arif ducked and darted backward out of reach. Two of the other men stepped forward to flank him.
“Now, now. That wasn’t sporting.” Arif passed the stone to one of the men, who carried it from the chamber.
“As for your sister, Gabriel . . . I am afraid Khufu has grown quite fond of her. I seriously doubt he will let her leave his side. He has wanted an heir for some time. Do you happen to know if she is fertile?”
Gabriel rushed at him. But before he could reach Arif, Kemnebi stepped between them. He blocked Gabriel’s charge with one arm, lifting him off his feet and hurling him to the side. Gabriel landed on one of the skeletons in a clatter of breaking bones. He only hoped that none of them were his.
“Good-bye, Gabriel; Miss Ficatier.” Arif backed out of the chamber, followed by Kemnebi and the others. “The Alliance thanks you once again for your service,” he called from the other room. “Your contribution will not be forgotten.”
Gabriel jumped to his feet as he saw the wall begin rotating shut. But before he could reach it, Kemnebi gave the blocks of stone a huge shove—and kicked the two rucksacks out of the way. The wall slammed closed with a sound like a kettle drum booming.
Gabriel raced to the wall and began hammering against it with his fists. He pushed at it, kicked it. Nothing. It was locked firmly in place.
“Hey, Arif,” he shouted, “why don’t you pick up some treasure on the way out?”
He listened for the sound of a spear being triggered, but heard nothing. He wasn’t sure he would—with the wall as thick as it was, they probably hadn’t heard him shouting, either.
He returned to where Sammi stood, in the center of the room.
Was her flashlight dimmer than it had been? It was probably just an illusion, he knew; but before much longer it wouldn’t be. Darkness would come, and then thirst, and hunger, all steps along the path to becoming the two freshest skeletons on the chamber floor.
“I’m sorry, Sammi,” Gabriel said. “I wish I hadn’t dragged you into this.”
“You didn’t drag me anywhere. I made up my own mind every step of the way.” She laughed ruefully. “I wish I hadn’t come, but that doesn’t make it your fault.”
She began walking around the perimeter of the room, peering at each wall, then examining the floor, then looking up at the ceiling. She searched around the base of the cage and the track on which the pedestal had swung.
“What are you doing?” Gabriel said.
“What I do best,” she said. “Finding a way out.”
“We know the way out,” he said. “It’s the way we came in.”
“We know one way out. Since that way is no longer available to us, I am finding another.”
“Here’s the other,” Gabriel said, and pulled the compact pickax out of one of the rucksacks Kemnebi had kicked out of the way of the closing door. “It may take a while, but—”