Death of a Pharaoh (18 page)

It was over a week since the dramatic breakout from Sullivan and life
in the Presidential, or perhaps better named ‘Royal’ suite, assumed a certain
normalcy. Zach was busy learning to be a bodyguard and spent every day with
Ethan at a facility that the Foundation rented for training purposes. Ryan
passed most of his time in the office studying up on commodities trading and
the history of the Servants of Ma’at. The extent of the organization’s reach
impressed him, with members in almost every country of the world, often at the
highest levels of government and industry. The days were long and intense and
he was lucky to have Zach with him every night for dinner and maybe a movie on
the television. He wasn’t certain if he would have coped without his friend’s
laidback Midwestern way of looking at things.

Still, he felt he
had replaced one prison cell with another, albeit much classier. Ryan had not
left the hotel since their arrival while investigators at the Foundation
struggled around the clock to learn everything they could about the people they
assumed were behind his grandmother’s murder. Computer experts, several of whom
also worked for Homeland Security, discovered the backdoor set up by a
notorious hacker known as ‘Black Rhino’ that allowed him to infiltrate their
system. A jogger encountered his body impaled on a fence not far from his home
where police discovered the decapitated corpse of his invalid mother. The
Medical Examiner found DNA of the killer, in the form of semen, in her mouth
and throat. Tragically, in two different rooms. Searches hadn’t encountered any
match so far.

The fact that one
very sick killer murdered the hacker on the same day the Foundation shut down
the compromised server, was more than coincidence. Forensic accountants traced
a series of monthly payments to the hacker, dating back more than a decade,
from an offshore account in the Cayman Islands in the name of Dmitri Sonkin, a
professor at Mellon Carnegie University. A team of agents set up discreet
surveillance the next day. They sublet a condo only two doors down the hall
from the Professor’s that permitted the installation of sophisticated listening
devices that picked up conversations from vibrations in glass windows.

Phone records
showed several calls from a number in New Jersey belonging to a shady lawyer
named Jim Stevenson, a known mafia surrogate in the nineties. He’d kept his
nose clean for more than a decade but investigators at the Foundation flagged
monthly return trips to London. The flights coincided with fine wine auctions
since he had a reputation as a connoisseur with a substantial private
collection. Herbert’s investigators were more interested in the long meetings
he attended at a private gentlemen’s club in the City. Someone had erected an
impregnable veil of secrecy around the identity of the participants and Herbert
Lewis sensed the gatherings had nothing to do with Cabernet.

Herbert briefed
Ryan daily on the latest developments including the identification of an
associate of the lawyer’s, a suspected mafia hit man, with a long list of
aliases currently living in New Jersey under the name, Vinnie Morelli. His
description matched that of a man seen by several witnesses in Cedar Park on
the day his grandmother died. Herbert was confident they had found the
assassin. He’d assured Ryan over lunch in the suite that they’d have the
complete picture before his coronation in November.

That evening, Zach
provided Ryan with an excuse for both of them to escape their 5-star prison.
Sunday was his kid brother’s twelfth birthday and he wanted to know if he could
mention it to Ethan and determine if there was any way to see him.

“Does he like
baseball?” Ryan asked.

“Diehard Yankees
fan.”

“Let me work on
it. I went to the stadium with my Dad two years ago and there are all these
luxury suites that companies rent. They might be private enough.”

“That would be
amazing.”

“I’ll talk to Mr.
Lewis,” he promised, “the Foundation must have some good contacts.”

The next day,
Herbert came back with a plan. He arranged to rent a suite from an investment
firm friendly with the Foundation. It had room for a party of twelve. Security
from the Servants of Ma’at had been watching the house of Zach’s mother since
the day after the breakout and Ricky called his older brother every week on a
secret cellphone number. Getting a message through would not be a problem. The
foundation sent a letter to Ricky’s school announcing that he was one of
several students selected by a charity to attend the next Yankees game against
the Toronto Blue Jays. There was a ticket for his mother as well. A limo would
pick them up the morning of the game.

Ryan also
requested that Herbert arrange the attendance of his friend, Tony Zamora, and
his adopted brother, a young fellow named Manuel who lived in Texas. As always,
Herbert was the epitome of discretion and didn’t ask for an explanation. During
his last visit to the prison, Tony and Ryan had agreed on a secret code word
that would legitimize any communication between them. Tony thought it would
come in handy someday. Only, he’d assumed that he’d be the one trying to get a
message to Ryan in prison, not the other way around. Ryan was confident he’d
show.

The rental of the
luxury suite came with underground parking and private elevator access but Ryan
and Zach would still wear disguises. Agents of the foundation had already
advanced the venue and they dropped hints that the tight security was due to
the presence of the young son of a Middle Eastern Head of State. The fact that
the game coincided with the 71
^st
Annual United Nations General
Assembly that attracted many world leaders, added credence to their apparent
breach of protocol. Apart from three Falcon Foundation security agents, the
internal guest list included Ryan, Zach, Ricky and Zach’s mother. Tony Zamora
had confirmed as did Manuel and his foster mother Anna. Ethan and David the
Sensei completed the dozen. Herbert Lewis would coordinate from the Command
Center under the Falcon Foundation.

Ethan led the
final security briefing in the suite the evening before the game. Zach acted
very professional to reflect his new role but as soon as everyone left, he was
like a three year old on a sugar high and almost made it impossible for either
of them to sleep. The hotel had installed two queen beds in Ryan’s bedroom so
they could be together. Zach had to promise not to touch Ryan’s pillows.

Zach and Ryan, accompanied by Ethan and David, departed the hotel at
9.00 AM in a three-car motorcade heading for Philadelphia International
Airport. An hour earlier, they received confirmation that Manuel and Anna were
in route to La Guardia on a commercial flight. Agents would meet them on
arrival and escort them to the stadium. A limo would pick up Ricky and his
mother in thirty minutes.

Jim Stevenson was busy reviewing surveillance reports over breakfast
when he received a call from the ex-New York City cop he’d hired to keep an eye
on Zach Adams’ little brother. It wasn’t an easy task, the place was crawling
with everyone from State Troopers to FBI agents. It was probably the safest
neighborhood in America right now.

“Jim, the kid is
on the move. He and his mother just got into a Town Car with NYC livery
plates.”

“Did he have the
bag with him?”

“Affirmative.”

Stevenson was
certain that the boy represented a way through the Foundation’s security so
he’d organized the planting of a GPS transmitter in the backpack the boy
carried everywhere he went. It presented a risk of discovery but it had paid
off.

“He was wearing a
Yankees cap and a jersey.”

“Hold one minute.”

Stevenson turned
to his laptop and performed a Google search for the Yankees schedule. They were
playing the Toronto Blue Jays in the Bronx starting at 1.00 pm. He switched
programs. The tracking device showed Ricky and his mother heading south on
Route 87 toward Manhattan. That had to be it!

“Keep an eye on
the house, I’ll take care of it from here,” he ordered then hung up.

He didn’t have
time to organize an attack but he had a better idea. It wasn’t a permanent
solution but if the grandson was back in custody, he couldn’t go to Africa.
Stevenson dialed his FBI contact who had been feeding him valuable information
on the prison break investigation.

“Hey Frank, want
to become a goddam hero?”

Tony waited for his friend in the lounge just outside the luxury suite.
Herbert Lewis left his name with security at the entrance. Ryan saved the
introductions until they were safely inside and out of sight.

“I was happy to
get your message,” Tony confessed, “I’ve been going crazy since I saw the
escape on TV.”

“You would have
managed it sooner,” Ryan stated. “Hope you like baseball?”

“You kidding, I
used to come here all the time,” Tony explained. “It was the only place I could
walk around with a baseball bat and nobody would call the cops.”

“Let me introduce
you to my friends,” Ryan offered.

“This is my
ex-cellmate and close buddy, Zach.”

Zach waved.

“The old guy over
there is my Sensei, David and Ethan is the CO who helped get us out of
Sullivan. They and the suits with the things in their ears all worked for my
grandmother.”

“Didn’t even know
you had one,” Tony observed.

“Neither did I.”

One of the guards
reacted to a message and opened the door.

A young teenager
bolted into the room yelling, “Tonio, Tonio.”

Tony recovered
from his shock in time to scoop Manual up in a big hug. A smiling Anna joined
in and the three of them were soon jabbering away in Spanish while the rest of
them stood back grinning over the impact of the surprise.

They’d barely
recovered from the emotion when the guard touched his ear again then moved to
the door. Zach looked at Ryan with nervous anticipation.

Ricky sprinted
into his arms with such force that the two of them almost toppled over the
balcony into Yankee Stadium. Zach’s Mom gasped when she saw her eldest son.

“Zach, how could
you do such a stupid thing?” she asked. “The police are watching the house 24
hours a day. There’s a million dollar…”

Zach cut her off,
“Mom, not now please! Today is for Ricky. OK?”

She swallowed her
next criticism like a wad of chewing gum.

The caterer
arrived to set out a selection of hotdogs, hamburgers and pretty well
everything else two kids could want to eat. Zach was the first in line.

“You must be his
friend, Ryan?” Zach’s Mom asked him as they watched the boys pile heaps of food
on their plates.

“Guilty as
charged.”

“So what are you
two going to do now?”

“Watch the game!”
Ryan replied. “Almost time for the first pitch,” he added with a smile.

Shrieks of
laughter accompanied the action on the field. There were cries of excitement
when the home team scored a run and groans whenever a Yankee player struck out.
Ricky discovered the powerful binoculars under his seat and found great joy in
watching the players up close.

“Derek Jeter just
spit,” he announced with disgust.

At the seventh
inning stretch, David offered to take Ricky and Manuel to get some Yankees
souvenirs. That way the caterer could sneak in the surprise birthday cake.

“Anyone wants a Derek
Jeter jersey?” he asked. It was a dumb question. Zach’s Mom volunteered to go
along. One of the security agents trailed behind.

The rest of them
waited for the cake to arrive. Seconds later Ethan froze.

“My Lord, we’ve
been discovered,” he announced, “the garage is crawling with FBI. We have to
get out of here!”

“What about the
kids?”

“David will get
them to safety.”

“Follow me, I know
a staircase only used by staff,” Tony assured them.

“Anna, qúedate aquí, no te
pasará nada,” Tony assured her as they ran out of the suite.

She didn’t look convinced.

“Wait!” Zach
yelled, “Ricky’s backpack, he left it inside.”

He ran back to get
it then they all sprinted for the staircase behind Tony.

Two minutes later,
they burst out of a door marked ‘Employees Only’ into the main concourse on the
ground level. Thousands of fans milled about.

“Get ready to run
for that exit,” Ethan pointed.  “Stay together,” he warned.

An elevator in the
far wall opened discharging half a dozen feds. One of them pointed in their
direction.

Ethan took out his
gun and fired six shots into the ceiling. The sound had the desired effect and
within seconds, a stampede erupted for the doors. Ryan and the others mixed
with the panicked crowd. They didn’t look back until they were past the turnstiles
in the nearby MTA station. Ethan was on the phone with Herbert in the Command
Center.

“Buy tickets for
Grand Central Station on Line 4,” he shouted over the noise.

They made it to
the train just as the doors were closing. Ethan held them open with his body to
the annoyance of the conductor. Everyone breathed again when the train pulled
out of the station.

“They’ll review
the tapes from the security cameras and in five minutes they’ll know the train
we’re on,” Ethan assured them.

“We can’t get off
at Grand Central, they’ll have it surrounded,” Tony added.

“That’s why we’re
leaving at 77
^th
Street,” Ethan smiled. “Herbert is arranging two
cars to pick us up at the street entrance. They should get there about two
minutes before we arrive.”

They saw them
parked at the curb as soon as they burst out the exit. Ryan, Zach and Tony
piled into the back of the first car with Ethan in the front passenger seat.
The two remaining security agents ran to the second vehicle.

“Take a left on
Lexington then left again on 76
^th
,” he instructed both drivers.

He turned toward
the back seat.

“My Lord, we’ve
activated our emergency evacuation plan. They’re fuelling the jet now. Ricky
and Manuel are safe with David. Anna is being questioned by the police.”

Tony turned to Ryan.
“I don’t understand what’s happening but if Manuel is safe then take me with
you.”

Ethan nodded his
agreement then spoke to the driver. “Turn right on 2
^nd
Avenue.”

“Hey guys, you
better look at this,” Zach warned.

He pointed out the
back window. A dozen vehicles with lights flashing were closing fast.

“Shit, we must
have a bug.”

It was only the
second time Ryan had ever heard Ethan swear.

“Does anyone have
anything from the suite?” he asked.

“Only Ricky’s
backpack,” Zach confirmed.

“Dump it!” he
shouted then quickly changed his mind. “No wait.”

“Falcon Command,
hold one,” he spoke into his cellphone. He started to bark commands into his
radio.

Ryan admired his
multi-tasking ability.

“Zach, when we go
around the next corner. The chase car will come alongside and you’ll have to
hand them the backpack. You’ll only have a few seconds until the cops can see
us again. You can do it!”

The driver
careened around the corner and the second car moved parallel barely missing a
collision with a taxi. Zach leaned out the window with the backpack in his
hand. The guard in the other car just managed to grab one strap and pull it in
when the wall of lights appeared around the corner behind them.

“Falcon Command,
give us ten seconds then have them cut the street.”

The driver turned
right on 1
^st
Avenue in front of the UN building. They were going the
wrong way on a one-way street. Ryan buckled his seatbelt. The car swerved right
to avoid a head-on collision with a garbage truck. Ethan concentrated his
attention on the entrance to the UN building. The pursuers were gaining.

The instant he saw
two motorcycles pull out he yelled to the drivers, “Gun it!”

They shot by the
entrance to the UN just as traffic police blocked the street with barricades. A
motorcade sped into the intersection almost colliding with the oncoming Feds.
Within seconds, two dozen men were out of their cars with guns drawn. State
Department and Jordanian security reacted instantly creating an armed standoff
that looked like it was going to end in a gun battle.

“Who was that?”
Ryan asked as he craned his neck to watch the rapidly receding scene.

“Your servant the
King of Jordan decided to make an emergency exit from the General Assembly,”
Ethan responded. “Herbert pulled it together just in time.”

Ethan ordered the
car with the bug to head for the 34
^th
Street Heliport.

“Take the first
right and make your way to the Port Authority terminal at 8
^th
and 42
^nd
,”
he instructed the driver beside him.

Stevenson was in continuous contact with Special Agent in Charge, Frank
Reynolds of the FBI as he tracked the backpack on his computer.

“We were cut off
by some raghead’s motorcade at the UN,” the agent yelled. “Where are they now?”

“They just turned
east on 37
^th
Street,” the lawyer confirmed. “What’s there?”

“They’re must be
heading for the heliport. Let me know if they go under the FDR.”

Stevenson could
hear him talking on another phone.

”This is Frank
Reynolds, Special Agent for the FBI. Close down the 37
^th
Street
heliport. Do it!” he insisted. “Right now!”

“Frank, they’ve
stopped just on the other side of the FDR,” Stevenson told him.

“Roger, I’m a
block away.”

 Stevenson
waited with baited breath for an update.

“There’s a
helicopter taking off without permission,” another voice in the car announced.

“Track that chopper
and get teams to La Guardia and JFK,” Frank ordered.

Stevenson knew it
was too late. They had lost them.

Ten minutes later, Ryan and the others boarded a New Jersey Transit bus
bound for Teterboro Airport.

“A stretch will
meet us at the bus terminal,” Ethan whispered.

When they arrived,
Zach sprinted ahead to verify the license plate as Ethan instructed. He
signaled the all clear.

Once inside the
limo, Ethan turned to Tony, “Mr. Zamora, Anna has been released and one of our
cars is taking her to the hotel. Tomorrow we’ll get her home. I’m afraid we
can’t risk taking her to see Manuel. Both the boys are with Ryan’s parents in a
safe house.”

Tony looked
relieved.

“Zach, your Mom is
already on her way home.”

He smiled his
acknowledgement.

The limo stopped
at the entrance to general aviation. The guard checked the license plate
against his list and waved them through. Two minutes later, it pulled up to the
stairs of a Gulfstream long-range jet.

Tony whistled,
“What did you say your Grandmother did?”

Ryan started to
answer but Zach interrupted him, “Tony may I introduce His Majesty, Nkosana I,
True Pharaoh of Egypt and Defender of Ma’at.” He sat back beaming as Tony
stared at them in shock.