The Last Chamber (6 page)

“This is the oldest form of Hebrew we know of. It dates back to before
the time of the earliest Egyptian communities.”

“What does it say?” Lindsey persisted.

The Frenchman ran a finger along the engravings. His lips moved
silently as he translated the symbols. Finally, he reached the bottom and
removed his glasses. He kept his flashlight on the wall as he spoke.

“It is a story about three brothers,” he began. “Their family had been
on an incredible journey and settled in a valley just outside of some mountains.
One day, the boys’ father drank too much wine and became drunk. The father
ripped off his clothes and was dancing around in his tent, naked. It seems one
of the sons discovered him and started laughing. The other two saw what was
going on and clothed their father. When the old man awoke, he knew what had
happened and cursed his youngest son’s child. In the curse, he said that his
grandson would be a servant to all his brothers forever. Then it goes on to
talk about the three treasure chests, a curse, and a reward.’

Lindsey’s eyes were wide. “I know this story.”

“You do?” DeGard was surprised.

“Of course. It is from the Old Testament of the Bible. It is the story
of Noah and his three sons.”

DeGard nodded in agreement. “But what is that story doing here, in
southern Egypt?”

Lindsey turned his head and shone the flashlight onto the three
chests. “What did it say about these? You said it mentioned them and a reward.”

“Oui,” he agreed in French. “It reads that the curse will be on the
other two brothers and that his son will be blessed with the wealth of the
father.”

Lindsey was perplexed. All three chests looked the same. They each
contained similar treasures, and were crafted in an identical fashion. DeGard
slid past his employer and squatted down on one knee, shining his light on one
chest and then the next.

“Do you see something?” Lindsey asked impatiently.

“Perhaps,” DeGard cocked his head to the side in the briefest of
seconds. “There are some unusual markings on the front of each chest.”

“Can you decipher them?”

DeGard twisted his head around, “Of course, Monsieur, I already have.”
A shady grin crept onto the right side of his face. “They are the names of the
three brothers. It would appear that if we move the correct chest, we will find
an even greater treasure than this.”

“You said the wealth of the father would be there for the cursed son.
Ham was the one who defiled his father’s presence. Noah cursed him. Which one
is Ham’s?”

“There isn’t one,” DeGard informed in a matter-0f-fact tone.

“What do you mean there isn’t one?” Lindsey spat. “There has to be.
One for each of the three brothers, the sons of Noah: Shem, Ham, and Japheth.”

“Yes, I am aware of that. But we are not looking for the name of Ham.
We are looking for the name if his son, Canaan, which is the one on the end.”
He made his point with a jab of the finger.

Lindsey looked over at the stone box filled with precious metal and
jewels. “Of course,” he gasped. “Noah didn’t curse Ham. He cursed Canaan, his
own grandson, to a life of servitude.” The older man knelt down before the
chest and ran his finger across the strange inscription on the front. “Ham
wouldn’t have it, though. He wouldn’t let his son be a servant to anyone.”
Lindsey cut himself off, wary he would say too much. DeGard didn’t seem to pay
any attention.

“How are we going to move that thing?” he asked in a snooty tone that
suggested he wouldn’t be doing any lifting.

“Not to worry,” Lindsey ignored the man’s lazy attitude. “We have
help.”

Several minutes later, a few of the men they’d brought entered the
chamber carrying crowbars. Kaba was right behind them. “We need you to move
this chest away from the wall,” Lindsey said.

Kaba gave the order in Arabic and the two dark-skinned men immediately
obeyed. They wedged their tools between the wall and the heavy chest then
pushed back. The box moved slightly, grinding on the stone of the floor as it
did. The men continued to leverage their weight for a few minutes until a hole,
nearly the same size as the box, had been revealed in the floor.

The men stepped back and Kaba moved forward. “Would you like me to go
first?” she asked without hesitation.

Lindsey nodded and she quickly dropped down on her knees and stuck her
head and a flashlight into the cavity. She swung her legs around and dropped
into the darkness with the deftness of a gymnast. The men stood over the
recession, looking down as her light flashed around under the floor. A moment
later, her face appeared as they shone their lights into the hole.

“It’s safe for you to come down,” she reported in a smooth tone. “Tie
off the ropes the men brought down in their packs and lower yourselves down.”
Her face cracked with a rare smile, her dark chocolate eyes alive with wonder. “You
are going to want to see this.”

The men rigged the ropes and a few minutes later, helped lower their
employer into the opening. Kaba grabbed him and eased the older man onto the
floor. He shone his flashlight around in the room. In the pale glow of the
electric bulb, she could see his face filled with awe. The entire room was
paneled in pure gold: the walls, the ceiling, all but the floor, which was
stone carved from the earth. He stepped over to the nearest wall and ran his
finger along the engravings. Images of people and animals covered nearly every
inch. He turned and looked down the expanse. The chamber ran about forty feet
in length and was around twenty feet wide.

“What do you see?” the Frenchman asked from above, trying to see into
the chamber.

“Lower him down, men,” Lindsey ordered. “Let him see for himself.
Words cannot describe it.”

A few moments later, DeGard was touching down on the floor of the
golden chamber. His expression was one of disbelief. He stepped quickly over to
a gold panel and pressed his hands against it. “I will never be poor again,” he
stated in whispered jubilation. If he could have hugged the wall he would have.

Lindsey ignored him. He was focused on something at the other end of
the room, in the center of the floor. A stone pillar stood just over three feet
high. On the top of it, rested a round stone, four inches in diameter and about
one inch thick. He glided over to it and paused a moment then reached down to
pick it up.

“Perhaps you would like me to?” Kaba offered. She’d sauntered over to
the plinth and was standing a few feet away from him.

“It is alright, my dear.” He gently lifted the stone off of its altar
and held it up in the light. On it, was engraved a picture of several
mountains, and in the center, between two of the angles, was a man holding his
hands up in the air.

“This is impossible,” DeGard was mumbling behind them. “This cannot be
real.” Lindsey and Kaba turned around to see the Frenchman shuffling sideways
along the wall. “This entire thing,” he waved a hand around, “is talking about
the flood story from the Bible. And there,” he pointed at the end wall near the
pillar, “is that the ark of Noah?”

The other two turned and looked at the image. Their flashlights
gleamed off of the shiny yellow surface. In the center of the end wall,
engraved in gold, was a picture of a long, strange looking vessel, resting
between to mountain peaks.

Lindsey stared at it for a moment. Kaba looked to him expectantly,
curious as to what he would say. The older man stepped away from the stone
pillar for a moment and studied the disc in his hand. He turned it over,
revealing ancient Hebrew script on the back.

“What does this say?” He spun around and held the object out to
DeGard, who accepted it with interest.

“Again, very ancient writing. Difficult to make out. But I believe it
says, ‘where the mountain rises through the eye in the valley of eight the path
home will be shone and there awaits life eternal.’” DeGard frowned at the last
part. “Fountain of youth, Monsieur Lindsey?” He carelessly tossed the disc back
to his employer who caught it carefully with both hands.

Lindsey chose not to acknowledge the barb. “The valley of eight? Where
is that?”

“Monsieur, please hear what I am about to say to you,” the Frenchman’s
birdlike face pleaded and he held his arms out, begging to be heard. “There
have been many people who have tried to find these ancient things. They have
lived and died searching for sacred relics that would give them immortality.
What makes you any different? These things you search for do not exist.”

“Those who went before didn’t have this,” Lindsey held up the disc.
“You lack faith, Monsieur DeGard. But you will see. And when you do, you will
believe. Now, answer my question, if you would be so kind.” He produced a small
pistol from inside his burgundy windbreaker and aimed it at the Frenchman’s
chest. “Do you or don’t you know where this valley of eight is?” Kaba took the
cue from her boss and produced a weapon of her own, training it on the same
target.

DeGard took a deep breath and let out a long exhale. “Oui, Monsieur. I
have heard of it. Please, put your weapons away. They are unnecessary. The
compensation you offered is more than enough to lead you on this wild goose
chase. So long as I get paid, I could not care less what we are looking for.”
His voice took on an air of warning. “The area is in eastern Turkey, around
Ararat Mountain and the Valley of the Eight has been searched heavily over the
decades, for the exact thing you are talking about seeking. No one has found
anything except some giant stones and what one researcher claimed was the
petrified roof of the ark.”

Lindsey gazed at him through the peripheral illumination of the
flashlights. “Good,” he replied after a moment of consideration. “Then we
should find little resistance when we arrive.”

Luxor, Egypt

The train whistle blew, signaling that it was arriving at its
destination. Sean was already wide-awake, unable to get much sleep after the
encounter with Will. He informed Adriana as soon as she had woken up, about
thirty minutes outside of Luxor. She was shocked at the revelation, but not as
surprised as he had thought.

“There was something not right about him,” She stated after a long
yawn. “I never fully trusted him.”

“Well, thanks for the heads up,” Sean said incredulously.

She smiled. “I thought he was dead. We all thought he was.”

“Yes, but before that?” He held his hands out expecting an
explanation.

“Look, you’re okay. And he’s probably dead. You said you shot him in
the chest and he fell out of the train. I doubt he survived. And if he did, he
will be out of commission for a while. That is if he made it to a hospital
somewhere. Again, I seriously doubt that happened,” her voice remained calm as
she laid out the scenario.

“You’re right. But I just can’t believe I never made the connection.
If he was a snake he would have bit me.”

“He almost did,” she quipped.

“To think that I was upset over his death. The city of Atlanta gave
him a police funeral. They actually honored the guy,” Sean sounded disgusted.

“You’re going to have to let it go, Sean. We have other things to
worry about right now.” Her eyes were kind but determined as she stared
intensely at him.

The group busily got their things together to make the exit a little
quicker. The three stepped off the train onto the platform amid a flurry of
activity. Stone pillars lined the landing, supporting an overhanging roof.
People were rushing around everywhere. There were a few disorderly lines of
people waiting to board the train that would head back to Cairo within the
hour. It was still early in the morning and, the sun was still low on the
horizon. Sean imagined in a few hours the place would be packed with travelers.

Sean had made a call over an hour before arrival, arranging for
transportation and supplies. Fortunately, Tommy had left his little black book
of connections in a Dropbox file the two of them shared. So, getting the
contact information of drivers and suppliers hadn’t been too difficult. He
hated handling stuff like that. Normally, Tommy took care of all the little
details. That wasn’t an option for the time being, so he took matters into his
own hands. He was relieved to find a couple of white Land Rovers waiting for
them just outside the station. They were greeted by a short, middle-eastern man
standing on the sidewalk next to the vehicles.

“You must be Sean Wyatt,” the man said with a broad smile that
revealed bright teeth. “I am Sahid, your driver. I just spoke to you on the
phone a little while ago.”

Sean stuck a hand out, which the man shook vigorously. “Thanks for
meeting us on such short notice.”

“Not a problem,” when the man shook his head, the black hair on top
tossed back and forth.

Sean figured him to be in his mid-twenties. But it could have just
been the guy’s very friendly, almost jovial nature.

“May I take your things?” he offered to Adriana and Dr. Firth. Sean
only carried a book bag with a few necessities in it. Adriana carried similar
luggage while Firth had only a courier bag.

Adriana shook her head, as did Firth. Sahid looked disappointed for a
second, but picked up his attitude immediately. “We should probably get going
before the sun is too high. The southern part of Egypt gets much warmer during
this time of year than Cairo.”

The group nodded and joined their driver in the first Land Rover. “You
have the equipment I requested in the second car, correct?” Sean asked as he
slid into the front passenger’s seat. He looked back for a second and noticed
the intricately decorated Egyptian bird that was placed over the three main
doors of the train station.

Sahid nodded proudly. “Yes, Mr. Wyatt. We have all the things you
requested.” The young man started up the vehicle and steered it out onto the
busy road amid box trucks, compact cars, and pedi-cabs.

Luxor City was a sprawling collection of buildings, most under ten
stories high. It was rife with activity, even for such an early time of the
day. Sean tried to recall visiting the area, but it was one of the few places
his job hadn’t taken him yet. His mind returned to the task at hand before he
let it wander too much further.

“Dr. Firth, we may run into some hostiles when we get there. You and
Sahid stay in the car until Adriana and I check things out.” She flashed a
quick smile with her eyes, grateful he’d not treated her like a helpless girl.

“I’m sorry, but I think it’s time you fill me in on a few details,”
Firth leaned forward, gripping the back of the driver’s seat with one hand.

Sean took a breath before speaking. “The Order of the Golden Dawn is
being run by a man who calls himself ‘The Prophet.’ His real name is Alexander
Lindsey. He is the man behind the bombing in Cairo, and the deaths of several
innocent people, including two professors back in the U.S.”

The professor frowned. “If you know who this man is and what he has
done, why has he not been arrested?”

“Nothing can be traced back to him. He always comes out looking
spotless.”

“I see,” Firth leaned back in his seat and looked out the tinted
window at the crowded city. “So, Tommy found the trail to Akhanan’s first
chamber. People have searched for that for centuries, with no luck. Some said
the chambers didn’t exist.” He laughed. “In fact, I was one of them.”

“You did not believe in the golden chambers?” Adriana asked, curious.

“No,” he shook his head. “It was a fool’s errand to search for such a
treasure. So much of it was surrounded by legend and myth. True archaeologists
only search through the facts, the things we know, before trudging off into the
wild world in search of something.”

“I suppose it is a good thing that some people believe in the fairy
tales. Wouldn’t you say, Dr. Firth?” She raised an eyebrow. Her deep, brown
eyes sucked him in.

“Perhaps,” he cleared his throat and turned back to the window,
clearly made uncomfortable by the Spaniard’s comment.

Sahid guided the vehicle past the final few dilapidated buildings and
the small convoy was suddenly out of the city, on the open plains leading to
the ancient ruins of Luxor. Sean peered through the tinted windows; out on the
flats, small convoys of camels were plodding along to and from the city to the
outer reaches of the desert. The bright sun was almost near its peak in the
cloudless sky. Off in the distance, several rolling hills of sand and rock
eclipsed the horizon.

The convoy passed two tour busses, full of people. Sean hoped the
tourists were headed for some of the more popular, mainstream historical sites.
He didn’t feel like dealing with a bunch of civilians. They always made things
difficult, especially when bullets started flying.

Sahid interrupted Sean’s thoughts. “We have word that there is a dig
going on at the Nekhen site. A team of archaeologists is working close to where
we will be.”

Sean didn’t like to hear that. “They aren’t going to give us any
trouble, are they?”

“No,” the driver shook his head. “They should accommodate us. Besides,
they are digging just outside the ruins. We should be out of their way.”

Sean acknowledged the information with a nod. But there was something
else concerning him. “Do you know if anyone else arrived in town today? Have
you noticed anything suspicious?”

Sahid reflected for a few moments, trying to remember if he’d seen
anything strange. “Not that I can recall,” he answered. “But in this part of
the world, suspicious things happen all the time.”

The comment didn’t exactly fill the passengers’ hearts with
confidence. Sean pulled out his new black Springfield XD, and check the
magazine to make sure it was fully loaded. He knew it was. He’d put the rounds
in it, himself. But old habits die hard. Sean had been trained to always check
and recheck his weapon. As soon as one got careless, that was when bad things
happened.

The drive to the Nekhen ruins took a little over twenty minutes. Upon
arriving, the group noticed the tents of the other archaeology team set up off
to the side of the hillside ruins. A cool dry breeze washed over the area.
Something was amiss. Sean couldn’t put his finger on it, but he knew things were
too quiet, especially for an active dig site.

“Where is everyone?” Firth asked as he exited the vehicle. “Digs are
usually very active places to be.”

“Yeah,” Sean agreed. “Something’s not right.” He looked around,
peering into the desert for any signs of a potential problem.

“The ruins are over here. This cave entrance is what I believe we are
looking for,” the Englishman informed them, leading the way towards a hill with
an opening in the center. On either side of the entrance, obelisks had been
carved into the rock, a permanent reminder of an ancient culture that had long
since disappeared.

Sean and Adriana followed Firth as he headed straight towards the
opening. The professor said nothing, seemingly in a trance as he marched across
the desert floor. Off to the right, several large white tents, lighting
equipment, and many other tools of the archaeology trade were sitting silently
in the bright morning sun. Sahid and a few of his assistants made their way to
the biggest tent to see if anyone was home.

Sean and his companions were only twenty feet away from the entrance
to the cave when Sahid stopped them. “Sean! You need to come over here.”

Adriana cast a quick, worried glance at Sean. He had stopped and
hesitated for a moment before obeying and trudging over the rocks to the tent
formation. She stayed close behind while Firth seemed bent on getting into the
cave, but he fell in line, curious to see what had gotten the driver’s
attention.

The young Arab held back the fabric of the opening to the tent. Sean
gave him a look of uncertainty before stepping cautiously inside. What he saw
was completely unexpected. Three young men and women were bound to wooden
chairs throughout the room. A stout, older man of Arab descent was also tied up
by a small workstation in the corner. He spoke up, seemingly the least afraid
of the group.

“My name is Dr. Omar Abdulkarim,” he stated. “Please help us.” Sean
nodded at Sahid and Adriana.

The three quickly made their way around the room, untying all of the
people. Finally, Sean reached the man in the corner who had spoken up. “What
happened here?”

Dr. Abdulkarim’s dark eyelashes and eyebrows blended with his deeply
tanned skin. He stood up after Sean untied him from a wooden chair. He rubbed
his wrists as he spoke with a heavy Egyptian accent. “We have been at this site
for the last few weeks. We have a permit from the Egyptian government to do
light excavations for ninety days.” The portly archaeologist was sweating
through his white cotton button-up, and his thick gray hair was a soaked mess.
“I have never seen those men before in my life. They came into our tents,
dressed in black, carrying assault rifles. Then they tied up the whole group. I
thought they were going to kill us. After around an hour or so, though, they just
left. The guards in the tent with us simply walked out and never looked back.”

Sean scratched the back of his head. “I wonder where they went,” he
said in a low voice, almost to himself.

“And why they left so quickly,” Adriana added.

Firth had been silent, standing near the entrance to the tent for the
last few minutes. He finally decided to speak up. “Would it be alright if we
examine the ruins in the cave? I am a professor working out of the university
in Cairo. We will not disturb the site. But perhaps we can find a clue as to
what these people were doing here and what they were looking for.”

The Egyptian man looked around and his younger assistants. They all
appeared to be college kids, young women and men from universities in the U.K.
and U.S. He nodded. “Certainly. If there is anything we can do to assist you in
finding these men, I would be happy to help. So, please, do whatever you need.
You will need lights, though. We haven’t run any lamps up there since most of
our work has been outside the temple area.”

“Thank you,” Sean offered then turned his attention to Firth.
“Professor, lead the way.”

The group exited the tent and followed Firth up the slight hill
towards the cave entrance. En route, they all grabbed some flashlights out of
black duffel bags Sahid had brought. They reached the edge of the rock
formation and continued over the threshold, into the darkness of the cave’s
atrium. When the professor entered the room, he scanned it carefully, as if he
were seeing it for the first time, while the others waited patiently behind.

His flashlight stopped at a spot on the floor off to the side. He
became instantly perplexed. Firth took a few long strides across the stone
floor and reached the spot that had caught his attention. Abdulkarim stood just
behind him, looking over his shoulder staring at an indention in the floor.

“This wasn’t here before,” Firth remarked in a surprised tone. His
Egyptian counterpart shook his head in agreement.