Death of a Pharaoh (19 page)

“Tony, close your
mouth and get on the plane!” Ryan ordered.

They bounded up
the stairs and the co-pilot quickly pulled the door shut and armed it for
takeoff.

“Get us out of
here, Henry,” Ethan told the pilot as they buckled up. “Give our destination as
Puerto Rico. Let me know the minute we are in international airspace.”

They were airborne
in five minutes.

“Think they’ll
come after us?” Ryan asked.

“The FBI doesn’t
have the capacity, they’ll need to get Homeland Security on board,” he
remarked, “and that will cost them precious time.”

“Are we armed?”

“Like a smaller version
of Air Force One.”

“That’s not very
comforting,” Tony remarked, “I saw the Harrison Ford movie.”

The pilot came
over the intercom, “We’ve been ordered back, sir.”

“How long until
we’re out of American airspace?” Ethan asked over the intercom.

“Three minutes,
sir.”

“Ignore them.”

It was a long 180
seconds while they all imagined several A-10 fighters suddenly appearing
alongside the jet. None did.

“Go south for a
hundred miles then make a heading for FNC in Madeira. Give me an ETA as soon as
you can.”

“Where are we
going?” Tony inquired.

“Senegal in West
Africa,” Ethan replied, “after a quick stop for fuel.”

“I don’t have my
passport with me,” Tony reminded them.

Ethan opened a
briefcase beside his chair and pulled out a sealed manila envelope.

“Temporary travel
documents issued by the Foreign Ministry of Egypt, all we have to do is fill in
our names. They’ll do until we fabricate new identities and get matching
passports.”

Ethan smiled at
them, proud of his planning. “Can I get anyone a drink?” he added.

They all burst
into laughter.

“Is there anything
you can’t do?” Ryan joked.

Zach offered to
help Ethan in the galley.

“So what happens
next?” Tony asked. “Not that I’m complaining, this is the most exciting day
I’ve had in years.”

“I have to get
ready for my coronation in two months.”

“So all this
Pharaoh shit is for real?”

“Afraid so!”

“What does a
Pharaoh do anyway?”

“Try to save the
world,” Ryan quipped, “and I could use a good fighter on my side.”

“As long as
Manuel’s safe, I’m all yours.”

Ethan and Zach
came back with a tray of drinks.

“Herbert just
radioed to say that he is on his way to London,” Ethan said. “He has a good
lead on the mystery group. He’ll call us in Dakar with a full report. Oh and
the Yankees won 7 to 5.”

“Well at least the
Baseball Gods are with us!” Ryan deadpanned.

“Try to get some
rest,” Ethan suggested, “we’ll be landing in Madeira in about six hours.”

With the cabin
lights dimmed, they were all asleep within fifteen minutes.

Lord Thoth received the update to Nkosana’s dream archive seconds
later. The excursion to the baseball game ended differently than any of them
could have imagined. The Supreme Council would be anxious to get a sense of how
he was coping with the dramatic turn of events. Herbert Lewis artfully
controlled the situation. The coordination with the Jordanian delegation proved
decisive in the Pharaoh’s flight to freedom. Still it was obvious that the most
difficult part was yet to come.

He read the
transcripts of the conversation in the executive jet with great interest. The
Pharaoh’s loyalty to his two friends was commendable. In many ways, Nkosana was
changing. It was only ten days since he swore the oath and already he was
thinking like a Pharaoh. He was considering appointing Herbert Lewis as his
Vizier. The Council would be pleased.

There had been
much tension in their recent debates. Many called for a wave of divine
retribution to revenge the death of Fannie, which would have claimed tens of
thousands of innocent lives. Others recommended prudence and the positive
changes in Nkosana’s demeanor would only serve to underscore the wisdom of that
position.

The Pharaoh’s
escape from the clutches of his enemies was an important victory and the forces
of good had gained a much-needed breathing space. Still, it was a frustrating
time for the Council. For many of the Gods it was difficult to accept that
events on earth relegated them to the role of mere spectators. The future of
humanity played out before their very eyes and there was little any of them
could do to influence the outcome. The fate of the world depended on the
strength and courage of one young man cocooned in a fragile metal tube hurtling
through the darkness over the Atlantic Ocean.

Thoth tried to
imagine the faint light emanating from the windows of the craft; it would be
almost insignificant in the vastness of space. Yet for humanity, it was both a
beacon of hope as well as a flaming arrow aimed directly at the dark  heart of
evil.

Lord Thoth closed
the archive and began to prepare his report for the Council. He had never kept
anything from his fellow Gods, not once in all these millennia, but this time
he decided to guard some of his private thoughts. He had a strange sensation
that it was not only the fate of humanity that depended on Nkosana, but theirs
as well. Perhaps he was becoming sentimental in his old age. The possibility
intrigued him; after all, it was a decidedly human trait. He reminded himself
that his colleagues were waiting. He swept his thoughts into an imaginary box
and closed the lid tightly. Pandora would be proud of him. The Council had
enough to consider without his mawkish reflections.

Chief Mbaye’s Compound, Camberene, Dakar, Senegal:
11:42 GMT September 26, 2016

The motorcade pulled up in the shade of a cluster of tall palm trees
that dotted well-maintained gardens; both to protect the occupants from the hot
sun as well as from prying eyes. Even Chief Mbaye could sense that it was a
different man who stepped out of the car in front of his spacious family compound
in the Camberene district of Dakar, a former village of his Lebou tribe but now
surrounded by the urban sprawl of the nation’s capital.

“My Lord Pharaoh,
welcome to my humble home,” the Vizier announced as he stepped forward to kiss
him three times starting on the left then alternating cheeks. Ethan had briefed
Ryan that it was the custom in Senegal.

“From the many
pictures my grandmother took of this house, she must have loved it. I am
honored to be here.” Ryan replied.

The Chief bowed to
everyone else.

“Please, we will
have some tea. You must be tired from your long and unexpected journey,” he
insisted.

He led Ryan by the
arm to the farthest table on the spacious shaded veranda framed by a riot of
tropical flowers, while his staff directed the others to a larger table out of
earshot.

The Chief remained
silent while a woman offered Ryan a bowl to wash his hands.

“This is
Senegalese tea, it is called
attaya,
” he indicated as he picked up a
pot. “It is always served in three rounds.”

Ryan tasted the hot
brew; it was strong and bitter. After a few minutes of small talk, the Chief
served the second cup. This time it was sweeter and there was a hint of mint.

“How are your
grandchildren?” Ryan inquired.

Ethan coached him
that it was polite to ask about the health of family members.

“They are all
doing well. May the Gods be praised.”

He served the
third cup of tea. It was extremely sweet and there was much more mint. Ryan was
puzzled.

“My Lord, for my
people, the Lebou, the tea ceremony is like friendship; the longer it lasts the
sweeter it becomes.”

Ryan enjoyed the
simple eloquence of his explanation.

The same woman
returned with plates of food. She never looked directly at any of the men as
would be expected in a mostly Muslim nation.

“This is called
Ceebu-jenn,” the Chief said pointing to a large platter. “It is a popular dish
made of fish, rice and a vegetable sauce.”

Ryan tasted a
spoonful. It was delicious.

“And these are
smoked sea urchins,” he continued. “We harvest them ourselves from the rocks at
low tide,” he commented with pride.

Ryan was less
certain that he would like the second plate but he tried them anyway as he knew
that his Vizier might take offense if he didn’t sample every dish. Chief Mbaye
smiled his approval. Ryan thought that the urchins were an acquired taste.

Ryan admired the
fact that they were in the middle of an unprecedented threat, yet the
conversation never strayed from friendly chatter about family, the weather and
the history of the Lebou. It was so different from the directness of most
Americans. He rather liked the change.

“Let me show you
to your quarters so you can rest,” the Chief suggested, “You and your friends
have had quite the adventure.”

“Thank you Chief.
I could use a nap and a shower.”

Ethan lingered
after the Chief escorted Ryan to his room.

“Any news from
London?” the Pharaoh asked.

“Yes, Herbert
reports that the team there has made great progress. He will send an update
later today.”

“Good. Are Zach
and Tony all settled in?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Wake me up when
Herbert’s report arrives,” he instructed. “Thanks for everything you did today.
You were great.”

Two hours later, Ethan knocked gently on the door. He carried Herbert’s
report in the other hand. After a short delay, Ryan opened for him looking like
he had just woken from a deep sleep.

“Jet lag,” he
offered as an excuse.

“Sorry, my Lord,
but a message just arrived from Herbert and I knew it couldn’t wait.”

“Ethan, when we
are alone you can call me Ryan,”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Can we get some
coffee?”

“Just pull on that,”
he pointed to a chord hanging by the bed.

“What does Herbert
say?”

“It is worse than
we thought.”

Ryan assumed this
is how the President felt when his National Security Advisor disturbed him in
the middle of the night to inform of a crisis.

A servant appeared
at the door.

“Can we get coffee
for two, please?”

He was gone with a
bow.

“You were saying.”

“They have
identified the group responsible for your Grandmother’s murder,” he announced.

Ryan was now fully
awake.

Ethan continued,
“It is a highly secretive entity known only as the Consortium. The members are
bankers, industrialists, financiers and high wealth investors. They all share
three traits: they are rich, conservative and extremely ambitious. They make
the Tea Party Republicans look like a church choir from Brooklyn. Many belong
to the Bilderberg Club, but that seems to have served more as a form of
introduction rather than a prerequisite for membership. They embrace an extreme
philosophy based on a deep anger with what they see as the incompetence of
governments around the world. They feel that the global economy would be far
more profitable if only they were in charge. Twelve years ago, they began to
develop a blueprint to take it over. After Professor Sonkin tapped into your
Grandmother’s trading activities and started his investment report, they
contacted him and offered a lucrative contract if he could prolong the
recession for a defined period. Sonkin thought he could deliver. That is until
the Gods called your Grandmother to a meeting. The professor didn’t understand
why but he knew if she went to Africa, his plan would fail. They killed her not
knowing that you were waiting in the wings. They, like many of our enemies,
thought that you were dead and there would be no one to continue her work.”

“Do we know their
names?”

“Not yet. Our
investigators are working on it. They have some leads but the members are very
secretive. They never meet as a group. Most of the leadership is based in
London and Hong Kong. Herbert expects to have more information when he arrives
in two days.”

“Thank you Ethan.
Let’s get together with Zach and Tony. I’ve been thinking about some changes
and with things getting complicated, we need to get them up to speed. How is
Zach doing anyway?”

“His loyalty to
you knows no bounds,” he assured the Pharaoh. “He is clever in his own way and
strong.”

Ryan detected a
note of pride, even affection, in Ethan’s thoughts when they spoke of Zach. He
wondered if they were getting close.

The four of them
gathered in Chief Mbaye’s library for some refreshments before dinner.

“Guys, events are
moving rapidly. It will be months, maybe years, before you can safely see your
loved ones again.” He paused to let the weight of his words sink in.

“I’d understand if
either of you asked to back out,” he told them. “This is my fight, not yours.”

“Fat chance of
that!” Zach emphasized.

Tony nodded in
agreement.

“Kind of thought
you’d both say that.”

“I plan to make
Herbert Lewis my Vizier. I’ll tell Mbaye tonight. He has been expecting it
since we arrived.”

“Ethan, I’d like
you to replace him as Head of Security.”

Zach and Tony
broke into cheers.

“I am deeply
honored, my Lord, and I accept.”

“For the time
being, David can coordinate back in Philadelphia and he’ll keep watch over
Ricky and Manuel.”

“Ethan I’d like
Zach and Tony on my personal security if you think they are up for it.”

“That would have
been my recommendation.”

“Good, now that we
all have a job. Ethan can you brief them on what we know about the forces
aligned against us.”

Ethan began a
skilled analysis of the threat posed by the Consortium and Sanctus Verum. He
left nothing out. It took almost an hour and while he spoke, Ryan closely
watched the faces of his two friends looking for the slightest reservation or
fear. He only saw determination and strength. Maybe his destiny had been
theirs’ as well. Had the Gods willed that Tony and he share detention together?
He had no doubt that having Zach as his cellmate was preordained.

They were silent
when Ethan finished as if they were still processing everything they had just
heard.

He thought it best
to change the subject, “We can’t save the world on an empty stomach,” he
announced. “Anyone hungry?”

As if by magic, a
servant appeared to announce that dinner was ready. Mbaye always seemed a step ahead.
It was a comforting thought.

Dinner was
delicious and relaxed. It was late when they got up to head for bed. Mbaye took
his arm to walk him to his room and informed him that he would send someone at
9.00 in the morning to start his training for the Opening of the Mouth
Ceremony. His niece was an expert in their ancient rites and the late Pharaoh
had selected her to prepare her Book of the Dead. It was a great honor.

As always, Ethan
lingered close behind to await instructions. He was a real pro.

“Mbaye is sending
someone at 9.00 am to begin my instruction for the Opening of the Mouth
Ceremony,” he told Ethan, “Drop by just before for coffee and we’ll plan the
day?”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Ryan gave him an
exasperated look.

“Goodnight Ryan,”
he corrected himself.

Ryan rushed to get ready. He had slept like a log, with no nightmares
for a change and it was now 8:50 local time. Ethan should be along at any
moment and he wanted to shower and shave first. He only just turned off the
water when he heard a knock on the door.

“Come on in, I’ll
be right out,” he yelled while he grabbed a towel.

He dried himself
rapidly. He knew that Ethan had a busy morning. He wrapped the towel around his
waist and reached for a smaller one for his hair.

He vigorously
tousled his head as he walked out of the bathroom, “We should discuss the
latest news from London before my meeting,” he commented through the thick
cotton.

“My Lord Pharaoh!”

The voice wasn’t
Ethan’s. Ryan quickly pulled the towel off his head. In front of him stood a
wide-eyed but beautiful young woman wearing a traditional floor length tie-dyed
bubu with a matching headpiece. She looked two years older than him, maybe
twenty at the most.

Mariam quickly
lowered her eyes but not before getting a glimpse of the well-developed physic
of the Pharaoh.

“Mariam, I
presume!”

“My Lord, my
apologies but you did say to come in. I will wait for your outside.”