A/N: This takes place slightly before TMR would, but Evelyn and Rick are not married yet, so, evidently, there is no Alex. I don't know why, and this is my first Mummy fic, but for my plot-line to work, it had to take place when it did (1934), and…ah, I dunno. If anyone has any suggestions on how to make this better, I am so open to them! Lol!
~ July 21st, 1798, Somewhere in the Egyptian Desert ~
"Soldiers!" The elegantly dressed General rallied, waving his saber in a gesture both grandiose and awe-inspiring then pointing it at the stone structures ahead, "from the height of these pyramids, forty centuries look down upon you!"
The French army roared in excitement, eager for battle, as the beautiful, fiery, Egyptian Mameluke troops rushed forward on their equally lovely Arabian mounts, a hair-raising war cry breaking the ancient stillness of the Sahara.
With shouts of 'vive la France!' and 'vive la Napoleon!', the shinning French troops rushed forward, both contingents kicking up sand around their horses' feet, and the battle commenced in the shadows of the great pyramids, which had looked down for ages on the desert wars of men.
***
Fifty yards from the approaching enemy lines, General Alexandre Bonnvillian, of one of the Grande Armee's famed chasseurs a cheval dragoon units, stormed forward with his troops, overtaking the glorious Eastern warriors. The Frenchmen almost felt a stab of pity. The Mamelukes, to him, seemed as some rare and exotic predator---dangerous, of course, but beautiful to look at. But General Bonnvillian had been with Napoleon since the Italian Campaign of April 1796, and he relished each battle.
Directing his men to the enemy's right flank, General Bonnvillian overtook what appeared to be a high-ranking Mameluke, swiping him off of his dark-black Arabian. But General Bonnvillian's horse suddenly reared, knocking him to the ground. Quickly jumping to his feet, Bonnvillian assessed the situation. He needed a horse…his had rocketed off. Almost without thinking, Bonnvillian grabbed the reigns of the black Arabian that had belonged to the Eastern Warrior and pulled himself on to the horse.
"General! Are you all right!?" One of his aides cried, riding up next to him.
"Oui. Just needed a change of horse." Bonnvillian winked, and waving his saber excitedly, Bonnvillian continued to lead the dragoons forward.
It was not until after the triumph of the French forces that Alexandre noticed the jeweled reigns of the horse he was riding.
~ August 23rd, 1799, Cairo, Egypt ~
"Dieu, it is over! Over!"
All was pandemonium in Cairo. That British devil Horatio Nelson had managed to destroy the French fleet, and after costly defeats in Syria and a horrible outbreak of the Bubonic Plague, the Grande Armee was lying in ruin.
The night before, Napoleon had gathered his generals together, relaying to them the need for escape. A few had protested about leaving their men behind in the Egyptian desert, but their leader had reminded them that the future of France (and the European world) depended on their return to safety.
Now, among the summer-sweltering cries of despair, General Alexandre Bonnvillian was pawing through his possessions, trying to decide how much he would be able to carry.
His aide rushed in.
"General Bonaparte says that we are leaving in fifteen minutes! You must hurry, General!" he panted, and Bonnvillian nodded, distractedly, trying to decide between a gorgeous Turkish saddle he had picked up in Syria or the beautiful, jeweled bridle he had taken from a Mameluke stallion.
"Hurry!" the aide prompted anxiously.
Realizing that the bridle would be easier to carry, General Bonnvillian grabbed it, and dashed out of the house he had been staying in, after the aide.
The jeweled bridle caught the sun as Bonnvillian and his aide rushed to the harbor, where Napoleon and the rest of the chosen few awaited. Moments later, they boarded one of the few ships undamaged by that goddamned Horatio's fleet, and Bonnvillian was able to sigh in relief once more.
Leaning on the railing, watching the Egyptian coast recede from view.
***
He did not see the two men, dressed in long, flowing black-robes, with tattooed faces, stare anxiously at him, almost regretfully.
The two Med-Jai warriors had caught sight of the French General carrying the bridle, and had managed to follow him on to the ship. They were putting themselves in danger, they knew that much, but the Frenchman had no idea what he had. And hopefully, the two had remarked to each other, they could get the bridle away from him before he realized the power behind it.
~ October, 1934, Berlin, Germany ~
Greta von Lintzer underlined a quick passage in the book she had been reading, then checked her watch.
"Ah, damn!" she cursed, realizing she would be late for the meeting, and he so despised tardiness. Sighing. Greta scooped the books into her arms and dashed out of the library, hailing a taxi and dropping half of her armload.
"Wonderful!" Greta breathed, motioning for the taxi to stay put as she collected her books again.
Finally getting herself organized, Greta dashed inside the taxi cab, hoping the driver would not mind going a bit fast. Greta was chronically late, and he hated that. Yet, Greta reflected, she was useful to him, and he could not dispose of her as easily as he could others.
"Where to, Miss?" the cabby asked.
"The Reichstag. And please, please hurry!" Greta replied breathlessly.
Raising an eyebrow at the woman's request, the cabby started off, wondering what she needed to go to the Reichstag for. Maybe she knew the Fuehrer, the cabby mused. Wouldn't that be something to tell the wife!
Greta dashed out of the cab as soon as it pulled up to the elaborate building, and practically flew up the stairs. The SS guards knew her well, and let her pass without obstruction, which was good for Greta, because she was late.
Of course…she was always late.
He was waiting in his office, and to Greta's great relief, he did not seem too perturbed. Some said he was crazy, but Greta did not believe that totally. To do what he had managed to do, you had to have had half a brain.
"Ah, Fraulein von Lintzer." He greeted, rising to his feet. The sun struck the Iron Cross he always wore on his tunic, and Greta ducked her head in salutation.
"I assume you have found it?" he asked.
"Ja, mein Fuehrer. It took some time, but I have managed to locate the name of the officer who took it back to France." Greta replied respectfully. Personally, she thought this whole search was pointless, but the man was a mystic. A strong mystic, and he always had been. When he had heard of the bridle's power from an Egyptian contact, he had demanded to have it found, and Greta was one of the leading Egyptologists in the city. He had appealed to her, and Greta had been honored, and more-than-willing to set aside her own skepticism.
"I am sure he kept it in the family. Even a Frenchman would know its value!" he mused, more to himself, but Greta nodded politely.
"The surname is Bonnvillian…" Greta started, but trailed off as he motioned for silence.
"I will send someone to France, to search for it. He must have kept it in the family. Bonnvillian, did you say?" he turned back to Greta, as if he had forgotten she was there.
"Ja. A French cavalry general, made quite a name for himself." Greta nodded.
"All right…perfect. Then the name should still be good. You will go, too, of course…only you know how to activate it, and when we have won, you shall be justly compensated." He promised.
Greta smiled graciously. Personally, she believed this was futile, and though she had memorized the legend of the bridle, she had yet to find any proof that it would actually work. But, as long as it made him happy…besides, soon he would not need any ancient Egyptian legends to amass his power. The German army was stronger than any in Europe, Greta mused, and that would be power enough.
"You shall leave tonight. You will go with two of my best men…they will find whoever has it, and then…ah, then Germany shall ascend to its rightful place! The Thousand-Year Reich shall be triumphant!"
Greta smiled in agreement. Some said he was crazy, but anyone who believe in Germany as he did was anything but.
~October 1934, Paris, France ~
"I'll give you thirty francs for it, no more, no less." The broker sneered, and Suzette glared at him angrily, waving the gold chain and pendant in his face.
"Thirty francs!? Thirty francs!? The facings along on this are worth twice thirty francs, you uncultured philistine! My Great-Great-Grandfather brought this back with him from Egypt during the Napoleonic Wars! This historical value alone is…" Suzette started, the broker pushed her hand away.
"Then pawn it to a museum! Thirty francs is my final offer!" The broker cried, then with a twisted smirk added "And I'm being generous."
Suzette's face reddened and she stuffed the necklace back into her skirt pocket.
"Fine! See if I ever shop here again!" she threatened.
"You weren't shopping here in the first place." The broker reminded her, still smirking snidely.
Too angry to speak, Suzette threw up her hands and rushed out of the store. Outside, she brushed her hand through her hair and took the necklace back out of her pocket. The aquamarine pendant flashed in the sunlight, twisting a bit as if trying to break off the chain.
"I hate you." She muttered to it.
The pendant continued to twist happily.
"Why can't you be worth more!?" Suzette demanded of it, then blushed, realizing she had spoken a bit too loud. Some people on the street turned to look at her, and Suzette flashed them a reassuring smile. Unfortunately, they didn't look too assured, and Suzette walked off, still red in the face.
"Dieu…this has not been my year." She muttered to herself.
Suzette Bonnvillian, the offending necklace in her pocket, walked home.
~ October 1934, London, England ~
"I had the strangest dream, you know." Jonathan Carnahan remarked as he walked into Rick O'Connell's flat, not bothering to knock. Rick, who had grown quite used to his almost-brother-in-law's oddities, looked up from his chair and raised an eyebrow.
"And is that why you came over?" Rick smiled in false good-will.
"Eh, no. But I figured it would be an interesting way to start a conversation…"
"That would end with me telling you 'no, you cannot borrow any more money'." Rick cut Jonathan off, shaking his head and still smiling.
"Oh come now, I was not going to ask you to borrow money!" Jonathan put his hands on his hips, acting wounded.
Rick rolled his eyes.
"Anyway," Jonathan sighed heavily, "Don't you want to hear about my dream?"
"I thought you were just making that up." Rick remarked.
"No! I don't lie!" Jonathan retorted, sitting down on Rick's sofa.
"Right…just like you never ask you borrow money. All right, if you must, tell me about this dream." Rick shrugged, and sat back down. Jonathan looked about to start, but Rick suddenly interrupted him again.
"How's Evelyn?"
Jonathan sighed. "Bloody rude Yank! I was about to tell you!"
"All right, you can tell me in a second. But how's Evelyn?" Rick waved Jonathan's protestations aside
"Lord, she's been gone five days! She's fine." Jonathan couldn't help but smile. Rick had asked about Evelyn everyday, since she had left for Ireland to go hear some Egyptologist speak on some new finding. Of course, Jonathan and Rick had declined the invitation. The two of them had had enough of Egypt to last a lifetime. But, Jonathan realized, It was sort of sweet how Rick doted on his sister, and Jonathan was kind of glad that he would have the crazy American as a brother-in-law.
"That's all I wanted to know." Rick smirked.
"Good, now I can tell you…"
"Does she miss me?" Rick cut Jonathan off again. Jonathan frowned at Rick, shaking his head in annoyance, and Rick laughed a bit.
"Yes, he misses you! Now, is there anything else you need from me!?" Jonathan demanded.
"Nope, I'm fine. Go right on ahead, Jonathan." Rick invited, waving his hands to add emphasis.
"Good!" Jonathan crossed his arms, still looking quite disgruntled. But it was hard for him to stay that way…it just wasn't his nature, and Jonathan launched into retelling his odd dream.
"It was the strangest thing, really…I was in the desert, and there was some sort of battle going on the distance. I think it might have been French troops fighting…something like that. Anyway, I was feeling a bit confused, when a woman came up to me…probably about 20-something, wearing a necklace. She asked me to keep it for her, and then two men in grey uniforms approached, and asked for it. Then I woke up." Jonathan recounted.
"Uh-oh." Rick whispered.
"What?" Jonathan asked, his eyes growing wide.
"You had an odd dream about the desert. Come on…I think you can remember our last odd desert occurrence." Rick reminded him.
"Do you think this has anything to do with that?" Jonathan demanded. Mummies were definitely not his favorite thing in the world, and if this dream was a premonition of meeting another one, he wanted to forget about it as soon as possible.
Rick looked extremely serious, and Jonathan felt real fear. But Rick started laughing, shaking his head in amusement, and Jonathan crossed his arms angrily.
"Very funny." Jonathan sneered.
"Sorry…I couldn't help it. Honestly, I don't think your dream about deserts and girls has anything to do with mummies…it probably has more to do with that whole bottle of champagne you had before going to bed. Don't worry." Rick assured.
"I did not have a whole bottle of champagne last night!" Jonathan protested.
Rick raised a prompting eyebrow.
"Well…maybe half a bottle…" Jonathan relented.
Rick continued with his eyebrow-raising.
"All right, I had a whole bottle! Lord…pushy Americans!" Jonathan expounded, and he waved his hand for agitated emphasis.
Rick just laughed.
~ A Train, Heading To Paris ~
Greta von Lintzer was not very comfortable with her traveling companions. In fact, she was almost frightened of them.
She figured they were with the SS, as the Fuehrer had told her they were 'his best men', but when she had met them, they had only offered their names…Gerhard Strassen and Josef Mueller…no rank or anything. They were young, probably mid-thirties, large men, and they carried guns.
And…there was also something strange about them…they had spoken very little to Greta, and almost not at all among themselves. They simply stared out of the train-car window, watching the dusky evening fall to night.
"Er, I think we have only an hour or so." Greta told them, simply to break the uncomfortable silence.
Gerhard Strassen turned to her. He was the bigger of the two, solidly built with grey-blue eyes and reddish hair. Josef Mueller was still well-built, but shorter, with greenish eyes and blond hair.
"Ja." Gerhard nodded stonily.
They were heading to Paris. The Fuehrer had suggested they start with Paris, because it was the largest French city, and if the man who had taken the bridle had been of any importance, he would have settled his family there. Greta could not totally see the logic of it, but she trusted the Fuehrer's judgment.
The silence had returned, just as choking as ever. The two men seemed almost made of stone…like statues, instead of living, breathing people. It scared Greta.
"I have…er, located at least twelve people with the surname 'Bonnvillian' in Paris. Apparently it is quite rare, and if we do not find anyone in Paris…"
"Well will find her in Paris." Josef interrupted.
Greta nodded, then frowned. 'Her'? How could Josef know…? Greta wanted to ask, but she didn't.
Suddenly, this whole expedition seemed a bit amiss.
~Paris, France ~
Suzette Bonnvillian sighed as she got ready for bed. The necklace sat on her night table, as it had been doing every night since she had stopped wearing it, and Suzette sneered at the thing.
Her father had given it to her when she was eight, ten years ago, and had told her it had been in the Bonnvillian family since Napoleon's Egyptian campaign, where his Great Grandfather had taken it during a battle. The jewel, of course, not the chain, which had been Suzette's mother's. The jewel was the important part, Suzette knew, and the jewel was the thing she wanted to get rid of most of all.
Suzette had always been stubborn. Even something like the damned jewel would not make her less stubborn, and she would hang on to it until she received a fair price.
"Thirty francs…hah!" Suzette laughed to herself bitterly, and switched off her light.
***
Across the street from Suzette's tiny apartment building, a man sat on a bench, reading a paper. Or, at least, it seemed he was reading a paper. Though he dressed as any typical Parisian man would, he looked far from a typical Parisian.
Perhaps it was his hair…wild and black, flowing down to his shoulders, or perhaps it was his face, and the tattooed markings on his cheeks. But mostly it was an air about him…an air of far-off places, with white-hot suns and endless sand.
The man sat, and watched the apartment house.
The girl was in there, he knew, and so was the jewel. And on a train, less than an hour away, the three people who would open the gates of hell, were approaching.
And in London were three people who could stop it…
Ardeth Bey sighed. He and the three in London had averted the apocalypse before…hopefully they would be able to do it again.
***
Later that night, Greta, Josef, and Gerhard walked out of the Paris Train Station, and Gerhard immediately hailed a taxi cab. Greta followed him and Josef, confused. She grew more perplexed as Gerhard gave the driver an address, and the taxi took off.
"What are you doing?" Greta asked, trying not to sound timid.
Gerhard turned to her stonily, his grey-blue eyes almost devoid of feeling.
"We are retrieving the girl and what is left of the bridle." He replied, raising an eyebrow, looking at Greta like she was some sort of an idiot.
"Wait a moment…how do you know a girl has it? How do you know where…" Greta started, but Josef put a finger to his lips, motioning for her to be silent.
"While you have been searching for the secret to unlocking its power, we have done some searching of our own. The Fuehrer is not a patient man, and we wish to have this finished as soon as possible." Josef explained softly.
Greta nodded, but she still did not feel comforted.
She actually felt a touch of fear.
***
Suzette had been sleeping for only an hour or so when someone began banging on her door. She sat up, frowning in confusion, and threw on a robe. The banging persisted, loud and almost vicious-sounding
"At this hour…?" Suzette murmured, more in consternation than fear.
Suzette reached the door and unlatched it, then pulled it open.
Two men and a woman were standing there. The woman looked a few years older than Suzette herself, and the men looked angry…dangerous.
"Y-yes?" Suzette stammered, her consternation quickly turning to fear. After all…to have two large men pound on your door in the middle of the night was not exactly a comforting event.
"We want what is left of the bridle." One of the men demanded in a gruff, German accent. His French was particularly bad, as well.
"What…bridle?" Suzette frowned, confused.
"You know very well what I am talking about!" The second man growled, also with a German accent. The woman between them turned to each, looking a bit uncomfortable, then turned back to Suzette.
"Sorry for this…we just want the bridle…then we will leave you be." The woman explained, almost apologetically.
The woman's tone seemed to enrage the men, and the one pushed her back, then they both barged into Suzette's apartment, knocking Suzette to the floor.
"What are you doing?" The woman demanded.
"Stay put, we will find it!" One of the men replied, and the woman backed away from the door. Suzette tried to get to her feet, but one of the German men pushed her down again, much harder.
Suzette cried out, but the men did not even seem to hear her. They began tearing apart her small room, searching desperately for something they were obviously having no luck finding.
Finally, the bigger one motioned for his smaller companion to go into Suzette's bedroom, and then he turned to Suzette, his face a menacing sneer.
"Look," Suzette started, barely able to speak, "I don't know what you want! I don't have any bridle!"
"Then what's left of it! Where's that!?" He demanded.
"I don't know what you mean!" Suzette cried desperately.
The man, enraged, grabbed her up by the collar of her robe and threw her back against the wall. Suzette screamed in pain, and the man picked her up and threw her again.
"What's going on?" The woman called from outside, nervously.
"Stay put or I'll kill you too!" The man roared, and began advancing on Suzette again, when suddenly, Suzette's window shattered, and something large was standing in the middle of her room.
The German man turned from Suzette, and his partner ran out of her room, clutching the necklace. Suzette, who was dazed but still coherent, frowned in confusion. What had just happened?
"Who are you?" the German demanded.
A man was standing in there, brushing the glass shards from his shoulder. Suzette gasped in fear…the man looked like some sort of ancient Eastern warrior, with long black hair, darkened skin, and odd tattoos decorating his face.
"Do you have it yet? I will kill you if you do, understand." The man threatened.
The German pulled out his pistol.
"I would like to see you try." He smirked.
The black-haired man turned to Suzette.
"Did you give it to them?" He asked.
"Give what to them? I don't know what they want!" Suzette cried, her head throbbing in pain.
"I have it Gerhard. I found it. Just take care of him, and we can go." The other German sighed, sounding, of all things, annoyed.
"Should we take the girl?" The other German…Gerhard, apparently…questioned, and his partner shook his head.
The black-haired man stared hard at the German with the necklace, and advanced, drawing a knife from his pocket. Suzette struggled to get up and found she couldn't, so she flattened herself against the wall as much as possible. Gerhard aimed his pistol and fired, but the black haired man managed to jump out of the way just in time. The other German ran past him as Gerhard shot again, and the black haired man ran after him. But as he started after the German with Suzette's necklace, the woman dashed in the room, asking wildly what was going on, and the black-haired man collided with her.
"COME ON!" Gerhard demanded, grabbing the woman before the black-haired man could get to his feet.
Suzette finally pulled herself up as the black haired man jumped up and started chasing after the fleeing Germans, but the sound of a car told Suzette the three had gotten away with her necklace.
After a moment, the black haired man returned to Suzette's destroyed flat.
Suzette stared at him.
"What…just…happened…here?" She demanded slowly.
"I'll explain it to you later. Come on, we have to go." He prompted, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the house.
"Wait! Where are we going!?" Suzette cried, struggling to keep up.
"London!" The man replied.
"London! What!? Mon Dieu, I'm not even dressed!" Suzette complained breathlessly as she followed the black-haired man.
The man didn't seem to hear.
~ London, England---The Next Day ~
Jonathan was over Rick's again. With Evelyn off to Dublin on to hear that Egyptologist, he was horribly bored. Bored enough to want to spend time with his boorish, American soon-to-be-in-law.
"So, anymore strange dreams?" Rick kidded as Jonathan sat down.
"Very funny. And no, I didn't dream last night." Jonathan retorted dryly.
"Oh, so you went to be sober." Rick raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"You are just full of humor today, aren't you? I have half a mind to tell my sister not to marry a Yank like you!" Jonathan frowned.
"Oh come on, you know I'm just kidding…besides, I doubt Evelyn would listen to you anyway. She loves me, remember." Rick winked, smiling at the thought of his soon-to-be-wife. The two had held off on marriage for a few years, until Evelyn got a comfortable job working for the British Museum, and until Rick had finally decided to commit. After all…Rick had been alone for a while, and he wanted to be completely sure he would be able to stay there for Evelyn. But neither of them had minded waiting, and as soon as Evelyn returned from Dublin, the wedding plans would be discussed.
"Oh shut up." Jonathan shook his head.
Rick was about to reply when a knock came at the door. Rick stood and ambled over. Jonathan turned, but his vision was blocked by Rick, as he opened the door.
There was silence for a moment. Uneasy silence.
"Rick? Who is it?" Jonathan asked.
"Oh no! Not you again!" Rick cried unhappily.
"Uh-oh…" Jonathan muttered to himself.
"Hello O'Connell…we have another ancient evil to take care of." A very familiar voice introduced, and Jonathan slumped down in his chair, pretending to faint.
***
Suzette was more than confused. The black-haired man, who had introduced himself as Ardeth Bey, had told her very little else. She still had no idea why the Germans had stolen her necklace the night before, or why it mattered as much as it did. The two of them had flown to London the night before, then he had given her money for clothing, and now they were sitting in the parlor room of some other stranger's flat. And to make it worse, the two men seemed horribly unhappy at Ardeth's appearance. The one, the Englishman (the other was an American) seemed almost ready to faint.
"Rick, Jonathan, this is Suzette Bonnvillian." Ardeth introduced, then turned to Suzette. "Rick O'Connell, Jonathan Carnahan." He motioned. The American was Rick, the Englishman, Jonathan. Suzette nodded, not really knowing what to say.
"What is it this time, Ardeth?" Rick asked tiredly.
"Two men..." he turned to Suzette for confirmation, and she nodded, "Have stolen something quite powerful from this girl, and I fear, if they unlock it, the world will be in danger." Ardeth explained.
"Wow, that sounds familiar." Rick rolled his eyes.
"I know you have had enough of world-threatening disasters, Rick, but this is important." Ardeth sighed patiently.
"What is this thing?" Jonathan asked.
"Well, it is a pendant, which was once part of a bridle." Ardeth started, but Suzette cut him off.
"A bridle…the men were asking for a bridle when they came. I had no clue what they were talking about…I thought, perhaps, they had mistranslated, because their French was so bad…" Suzette mused.
"What language did they speak?" Rick asked.
"German." Suzette returned. "And there was a woman with them."
"A woman?" Ardeth frowned.
"Yes…she seemed upset by the two men, but she let them destroy my room anyway. They stole my necklace…which, as far as I'm concerned, they can have…then left." Suzette nodded.
Ardeth turned to Suzette incredulously.
"Do you know the power of that jewel? When unlocked, it can unleash a force greater than all the armies of the world, and whoever controls that force, controls humanity! The bridle that the jewel once was part of belonged to an ancient warrior…a great king, who tried to conquer the known world. And he would have succeeded, but the bridle was stolen from him before he could, and it was lost to history. That bridle allows whoever owns it to realize that dream…of controlling humanity." Ardeth explained, impressing upon them the significance and danger of what could happen.
"All right, wonderful. So we have to steal this world-conquering thing back from some Germans, and everything's peachy again, right?" Jonathan surmised flippantly.
"Right." Ardeth nodded.
Rick sighed.
"Well, since I know we'll be doing this anyway, why put up an argument? But what about Evelyn? She's still in Ireland." Rick reminded. He wasn't sure that he wanted Evelyn to come, but he knew she would want to come.
"We cannot wait. This must be dealt with now. I assume you two will come?" Ardeth prompted.
"Yes, we'll come." Rick agreed, getting to his feet.
"Hey, wait a minute! I never said I would do anything!" Jonathan protested.
"Come on Jonathan, you know you want to!" Rick smirked at him, pulling him up to his feet as well.
"Rick! Oh come on!" Jonathan cried.
Rick rolled his eyes and turned to Ardeth. Suzette watched him in confusion…the man seemed to have no problem believing Ardeth's crazy story about ancient evil. And, judging from their conversation, the three men had faced some sort of ancient evil before. It was almost ridiculous! Suzette still couldn't believe her stupid necklace held the key to unlocking a world-conquering force. It had just brought her bad luck! Suddenly, she realized she had been about to pawn it, and an involuntary smile crossed her face.
"I knew it was worth more than thirty francs." She murmured.
Ardeth, Jonathan, and Rick turned to her in confusion, and Suzette shrugged, smiling brightly. Rick nodded to himself, then turned back to Ardeth.
"So, where are we going?"
"Egypt, of course." Ardeth replied.
"Egypt…bloody lovely." Jonathan sighed.
~ July 21st, 1798, Somewhere in the Egyptian Desert ~
"Soldiers!" The elegantly dressed General rallied, waving his saber in a gesture both grandiose and awe-inspiring then pointing it at the stone structures ahead, "from the height of these pyramids, forty centuries look down upon you!"
The French army roared in excitement, eager for battle, as the beautiful, fiery, Egyptian Mameluke troops rushed forward on their equally lovely Arabian mounts, a hair-raising war cry breaking the ancient stillness of the Sahara.
With shouts of 'vive la France!' and 'vive la Napoleon!', the shinning French troops rushed forward, both contingents kicking up sand around their horses' feet, and the battle commenced in the shadows of the great pyramids, which had looked down for ages on the desert wars of men.
***
Fifty yards from the approaching enemy lines, General Alexandre Bonnvillian, of one of the Grande Armee's famed chasseurs a cheval dragoon units, stormed forward with his troops, overtaking the glorious Eastern warriors. The Frenchmen almost felt a stab of pity. The Mamelukes, to him, seemed as some rare and exotic predator---dangerous, of course, but beautiful to look at. But General Bonnvillian had been with Napoleon since the Italian Campaign of April 1796, and he relished each battle.
Directing his men to the enemy's right flank, General Bonnvillian overtook what appeared to be a high-ranking Mameluke, swiping him off of his dark-black Arabian. But General Bonnvillian's horse suddenly reared, knocking him to the ground. Quickly jumping to his feet, Bonnvillian assessed the situation. He needed a horse…his had rocketed off. Almost without thinking, Bonnvillian grabbed the reigns of the black Arabian that had belonged to the Eastern Warrior and pulled himself on to the horse.
"General! Are you all right!?" One of his aides cried, riding up next to him.
"Oui. Just needed a change of horse." Bonnvillian winked, and waving his saber excitedly, Bonnvillian continued to lead the dragoons forward.
It was not until after the triumph of the French forces that Alexandre noticed the jeweled reigns of the horse he was riding.
~ August 23rd, 1799, Cairo, Egypt ~
"Dieu, it is over! Over!"
All was pandemonium in Cairo. That British devil Horatio Nelson had managed to destroy the French fleet, and after costly defeats in Syria and a horrible outbreak of the Bubonic Plague, the Grande Armee was lying in ruin.
The night before, Napoleon had gathered his generals together, relaying to them the need for escape. A few had protested about leaving their men behind in the Egyptian desert, but their leader had reminded them that the future of France (and the European world) depended on their return to safety.
Now, among the summer-sweltering cries of despair, General Alexandre Bonnvillian was pawing through his possessions, trying to decide how much he would be able to carry.
His aide rushed in.
"General Bonaparte says that we are leaving in fifteen minutes! You must hurry, General!" he panted, and Bonnvillian nodded, distractedly, trying to decide between a gorgeous Turkish saddle he had picked up in Syria or the beautiful, jeweled bridle he had taken from a Mameluke stallion.
"Hurry!" the aide prompted anxiously.
Realizing that the bridle would be easier to carry, General Bonnvillian grabbed it, and dashed out of the house he had been staying in, after the aide.
The jeweled bridle caught the sun as Bonnvillian and his aide rushed to the harbor, where Napoleon and the rest of the chosen few awaited. Moments later, they boarded one of the few ships undamaged by that goddamned Horatio's fleet, and Bonnvillian was able to sigh in relief once more.
Leaning on the railing, watching the Egyptian coast recede from view.
***
He did not see the two men, dressed in long, flowing black-robes, with tattooed faces, stare anxiously at him, almost regretfully.
The two Med-Jai warriors had caught sight of the French General carrying the bridle, and had managed to follow him on to the ship. They were putting themselves in danger, they knew that much, but the Frenchman had no idea what he had. And hopefully, the two had remarked to each other, they could get the bridle away from him before he realized the power behind it.
~ October, 1934, Berlin, Germany ~
Greta von Lintzer underlined a quick passage in the book she had been reading, then checked her watch.
"Ah, damn!" she cursed, realizing she would be late for the meeting, and he so despised tardiness. Sighing. Greta scooped the books into her arms and dashed out of the library, hailing a taxi and dropping half of her armload.
"Wonderful!" Greta breathed, motioning for the taxi to stay put as she collected her books again.
Finally getting herself organized, Greta dashed inside the taxi cab, hoping the driver would not mind going a bit fast. Greta was chronically late, and he hated that. Yet, Greta reflected, she was useful to him, and he could not dispose of her as easily as he could others.
"Where to, Miss?" the cabby asked.
"The Reichstag. And please, please hurry!" Greta replied breathlessly.
Raising an eyebrow at the woman's request, the cabby started off, wondering what she needed to go to the Reichstag for. Maybe she knew the Fuehrer, the cabby mused. Wouldn't that be something to tell the wife!
Greta dashed out of the cab as soon as it pulled up to the elaborate building, and practically flew up the stairs. The SS guards knew her well, and let her pass without obstruction, which was good for Greta, because she was late.
Of course…she was always late.
He was waiting in his office, and to Greta's great relief, he did not seem too perturbed. Some said he was crazy, but Greta did not believe that totally. To do what he had managed to do, you had to have had half a brain.
"Ah, Fraulein von Lintzer." He greeted, rising to his feet. The sun struck the Iron Cross he always wore on his tunic, and Greta ducked her head in salutation.
"I assume you have found it?" he asked.
"Ja, mein Fuehrer. It took some time, but I have managed to locate the name of the officer who took it back to France." Greta replied respectfully. Personally, she thought this whole search was pointless, but the man was a mystic. A strong mystic, and he always had been. When he had heard of the bridle's power from an Egyptian contact, he had demanded to have it found, and Greta was one of the leading Egyptologists in the city. He had appealed to her, and Greta had been honored, and more-than-willing to set aside her own skepticism.
"I am sure he kept it in the family. Even a Frenchman would know its value!" he mused, more to himself, but Greta nodded politely.
"The surname is Bonnvillian…" Greta started, but trailed off as he motioned for silence.
"I will send someone to France, to search for it. He must have kept it in the family. Bonnvillian, did you say?" he turned back to Greta, as if he had forgotten she was there.
"Ja. A French cavalry general, made quite a name for himself." Greta nodded.
"All right…perfect. Then the name should still be good. You will go, too, of course…only you know how to activate it, and when we have won, you shall be justly compensated." He promised.
Greta smiled graciously. Personally, she believed this was futile, and though she had memorized the legend of the bridle, she had yet to find any proof that it would actually work. But, as long as it made him happy…besides, soon he would not need any ancient Egyptian legends to amass his power. The German army was stronger than any in Europe, Greta mused, and that would be power enough.
"You shall leave tonight. You will go with two of my best men…they will find whoever has it, and then…ah, then Germany shall ascend to its rightful place! The Thousand-Year Reich shall be triumphant!"
Greta smiled in agreement. Some said he was crazy, but anyone who believe in Germany as he did was anything but.
~October 1934, Paris, France ~
"I'll give you thirty francs for it, no more, no less." The broker sneered, and Suzette glared at him angrily, waving the gold chain and pendant in his face.
"Thirty francs!? Thirty francs!? The facings along on this are worth twice thirty francs, you uncultured philistine! My Great-Great-Grandfather brought this back with him from Egypt during the Napoleonic Wars! This historical value alone is…" Suzette started, the broker pushed her hand away.
"Then pawn it to a museum! Thirty francs is my final offer!" The broker cried, then with a twisted smirk added "And I'm being generous."
Suzette's face reddened and she stuffed the necklace back into her skirt pocket.
"Fine! See if I ever shop here again!" she threatened.
"You weren't shopping here in the first place." The broker reminded her, still smirking snidely.
Too angry to speak, Suzette threw up her hands and rushed out of the store. Outside, she brushed her hand through her hair and took the necklace back out of her pocket. The aquamarine pendant flashed in the sunlight, twisting a bit as if trying to break off the chain.
"I hate you." She muttered to it.
The pendant continued to twist happily.
"Why can't you be worth more!?" Suzette demanded of it, then blushed, realizing she had spoken a bit too loud. Some people on the street turned to look at her, and Suzette flashed them a reassuring smile. Unfortunately, they didn't look too assured, and Suzette walked off, still red in the face.
"Dieu…this has not been my year." She muttered to herself.
Suzette Bonnvillian, the offending necklace in her pocket, walked home.
~ October 1934, London, England ~
"I had the strangest dream, you know." Jonathan Carnahan remarked as he walked into Rick O'Connell's flat, not bothering to knock. Rick, who had grown quite used to his almost-brother-in-law's oddities, looked up from his chair and raised an eyebrow.
"And is that why you came over?" Rick smiled in false good-will.
"Eh, no. But I figured it would be an interesting way to start a conversation…"
"That would end with me telling you 'no, you cannot borrow any more money'." Rick cut Jonathan off, shaking his head and still smiling.
"Oh come now, I was not going to ask you to borrow money!" Jonathan put his hands on his hips, acting wounded.
Rick rolled his eyes.
"Anyway," Jonathan sighed heavily, "Don't you want to hear about my dream?"
"I thought you were just making that up." Rick remarked.
"No! I don't lie!" Jonathan retorted, sitting down on Rick's sofa.
"Right…just like you never ask you borrow money. All right, if you must, tell me about this dream." Rick shrugged, and sat back down. Jonathan looked about to start, but Rick suddenly interrupted him again.
"How's Evelyn?"
Jonathan sighed. "Bloody rude Yank! I was about to tell you!"
"All right, you can tell me in a second. But how's Evelyn?" Rick waved Jonathan's protestations aside
"Lord, she's been gone five days! She's fine." Jonathan couldn't help but smile. Rick had asked about Evelyn everyday, since she had left for Ireland to go hear some Egyptologist speak on some new finding. Of course, Jonathan and Rick had declined the invitation. The two of them had had enough of Egypt to last a lifetime. But, Jonathan realized, It was sort of sweet how Rick doted on his sister, and Jonathan was kind of glad that he would have the crazy American as a brother-in-law.
"That's all I wanted to know." Rick smirked.
"Good, now I can tell you…"
"Does she miss me?" Rick cut Jonathan off again. Jonathan frowned at Rick, shaking his head in annoyance, and Rick laughed a bit.
"Yes, he misses you! Now, is there anything else you need from me!?" Jonathan demanded.
"Nope, I'm fine. Go right on ahead, Jonathan." Rick invited, waving his hands to add emphasis.
"Good!" Jonathan crossed his arms, still looking quite disgruntled. But it was hard for him to stay that way…it just wasn't his nature, and Jonathan launched into retelling his odd dream.
"It was the strangest thing, really…I was in the desert, and there was some sort of battle going on the distance. I think it might have been French troops fighting…something like that. Anyway, I was feeling a bit confused, when a woman came up to me…probably about 20-something, wearing a necklace. She asked me to keep it for her, and then two men in grey uniforms approached, and asked for it. Then I woke up." Jonathan recounted.
"Uh-oh." Rick whispered.
"What?" Jonathan asked, his eyes growing wide.
"You had an odd dream about the desert. Come on…I think you can remember our last odd desert occurrence." Rick reminded him.
"Do you think this has anything to do with that?" Jonathan demanded. Mummies were definitely not his favorite thing in the world, and if this dream was a premonition of meeting another one, he wanted to forget about it as soon as possible.
Rick looked extremely serious, and Jonathan felt real fear. But Rick started laughing, shaking his head in amusement, and Jonathan crossed his arms angrily.
"Very funny." Jonathan sneered.
"Sorry…I couldn't help it. Honestly, I don't think your dream about deserts and girls has anything to do with mummies…it probably has more to do with that whole bottle of champagne you had before going to bed. Don't worry." Rick assured.
"I did not have a whole bottle of champagne last night!" Jonathan protested.
Rick raised a prompting eyebrow.
"Well…maybe half a bottle…" Jonathan relented.
Rick continued with his eyebrow-raising.
"All right, I had a whole bottle! Lord…pushy Americans!" Jonathan expounded, and he waved his hand for agitated emphasis.
Rick just laughed.
~ A Train, Heading To Paris ~
Greta von Lintzer was not very comfortable with her traveling companions. In fact, she was almost frightened of them.
She figured they were with the SS, as the Fuehrer had told her they were 'his best men', but when she had met them, they had only offered their names…Gerhard Strassen and Josef Mueller…no rank or anything. They were young, probably mid-thirties, large men, and they carried guns.
And…there was also something strange about them…they had spoken very little to Greta, and almost not at all among themselves. They simply stared out of the train-car window, watching the dusky evening fall to night.
"Er, I think we have only an hour or so." Greta told them, simply to break the uncomfortable silence.
Gerhard Strassen turned to her. He was the bigger of the two, solidly built with grey-blue eyes and reddish hair. Josef Mueller was still well-built, but shorter, with greenish eyes and blond hair.
"Ja." Gerhard nodded stonily.
They were heading to Paris. The Fuehrer had suggested they start with Paris, because it was the largest French city, and if the man who had taken the bridle had been of any importance, he would have settled his family there. Greta could not totally see the logic of it, but she trusted the Fuehrer's judgment.
The silence had returned, just as choking as ever. The two men seemed almost made of stone…like statues, instead of living, breathing people. It scared Greta.
"I have…er, located at least twelve people with the surname 'Bonnvillian' in Paris. Apparently it is quite rare, and if we do not find anyone in Paris…"
"Well will find her in Paris." Josef interrupted.
Greta nodded, then frowned. 'Her'? How could Josef know…? Greta wanted to ask, but she didn't.
Suddenly, this whole expedition seemed a bit amiss.
~Paris, France ~
Suzette Bonnvillian sighed as she got ready for bed. The necklace sat on her night table, as it had been doing every night since she had stopped wearing it, and Suzette sneered at the thing.
Her father had given it to her when she was eight, ten years ago, and had told her it had been in the Bonnvillian family since Napoleon's Egyptian campaign, where his Great Grandfather had taken it during a battle. The jewel, of course, not the chain, which had been Suzette's mother's. The jewel was the important part, Suzette knew, and the jewel was the thing she wanted to get rid of most of all.
Suzette had always been stubborn. Even something like the damned jewel would not make her less stubborn, and she would hang on to it until she received a fair price.
"Thirty francs…hah!" Suzette laughed to herself bitterly, and switched off her light.
***
Across the street from Suzette's tiny apartment building, a man sat on a bench, reading a paper. Or, at least, it seemed he was reading a paper. Though he dressed as any typical Parisian man would, he looked far from a typical Parisian.
Perhaps it was his hair…wild and black, flowing down to his shoulders, or perhaps it was his face, and the tattooed markings on his cheeks. But mostly it was an air about him…an air of far-off places, with white-hot suns and endless sand.
The man sat, and watched the apartment house.
The girl was in there, he knew, and so was the jewel. And on a train, less than an hour away, the three people who would open the gates of hell, were approaching.
And in London were three people who could stop it…
Ardeth Bey sighed. He and the three in London had averted the apocalypse before…hopefully they would be able to do it again.
***
Later that night, Greta, Josef, and Gerhard walked out of the Paris Train Station, and Gerhard immediately hailed a taxi cab. Greta followed him and Josef, confused. She grew more perplexed as Gerhard gave the driver an address, and the taxi took off.
"What are you doing?" Greta asked, trying not to sound timid.
Gerhard turned to her stonily, his grey-blue eyes almost devoid of feeling.
"We are retrieving the girl and what is left of the bridle." He replied, raising an eyebrow, looking at Greta like she was some sort of an idiot.
"Wait a moment…how do you know a girl has it? How do you know where…" Greta started, but Josef put a finger to his lips, motioning for her to be silent.
"While you have been searching for the secret to unlocking its power, we have done some searching of our own. The Fuehrer is not a patient man, and we wish to have this finished as soon as possible." Josef explained softly.
Greta nodded, but she still did not feel comforted.
She actually felt a touch of fear.
***
Suzette had been sleeping for only an hour or so when someone began banging on her door. She sat up, frowning in confusion, and threw on a robe. The banging persisted, loud and almost vicious-sounding
"At this hour…?" Suzette murmured, more in consternation than fear.
Suzette reached the door and unlatched it, then pulled it open.
Two men and a woman were standing there. The woman looked a few years older than Suzette herself, and the men looked angry…dangerous.
"Y-yes?" Suzette stammered, her consternation quickly turning to fear. After all…to have two large men pound on your door in the middle of the night was not exactly a comforting event.
"We want what is left of the bridle." One of the men demanded in a gruff, German accent. His French was particularly bad, as well.
"What…bridle?" Suzette frowned, confused.
"You know very well what I am talking about!" The second man growled, also with a German accent. The woman between them turned to each, looking a bit uncomfortable, then turned back to Suzette.
"Sorry for this…we just want the bridle…then we will leave you be." The woman explained, almost apologetically.
The woman's tone seemed to enrage the men, and the one pushed her back, then they both barged into Suzette's apartment, knocking Suzette to the floor.
"What are you doing?" The woman demanded.
"Stay put, we will find it!" One of the men replied, and the woman backed away from the door. Suzette tried to get to her feet, but one of the German men pushed her down again, much harder.
Suzette cried out, but the men did not even seem to hear her. They began tearing apart her small room, searching desperately for something they were obviously having no luck finding.
Finally, the bigger one motioned for his smaller companion to go into Suzette's bedroom, and then he turned to Suzette, his face a menacing sneer.
"Look," Suzette started, barely able to speak, "I don't know what you want! I don't have any bridle!"
"Then what's left of it! Where's that!?" He demanded.
"I don't know what you mean!" Suzette cried desperately.
The man, enraged, grabbed her up by the collar of her robe and threw her back against the wall. Suzette screamed in pain, and the man picked her up and threw her again.
"What's going on?" The woman called from outside, nervously.
"Stay put or I'll kill you too!" The man roared, and began advancing on Suzette again, when suddenly, Suzette's window shattered, and something large was standing in the middle of her room.
The German man turned from Suzette, and his partner ran out of her room, clutching the necklace. Suzette, who was dazed but still coherent, frowned in confusion. What had just happened?
"Who are you?" the German demanded.
A man was standing in there, brushing the glass shards from his shoulder. Suzette gasped in fear…the man looked like some sort of ancient Eastern warrior, with long black hair, darkened skin, and odd tattoos decorating his face.
"Do you have it yet? I will kill you if you do, understand." The man threatened.
The German pulled out his pistol.
"I would like to see you try." He smirked.
The black-haired man turned to Suzette.
"Did you give it to them?" He asked.
"Give what to them? I don't know what they want!" Suzette cried, her head throbbing in pain.
"I have it Gerhard. I found it. Just take care of him, and we can go." The other German sighed, sounding, of all things, annoyed.
"Should we take the girl?" The other German…Gerhard, apparently…questioned, and his partner shook his head.
The black-haired man stared hard at the German with the necklace, and advanced, drawing a knife from his pocket. Suzette struggled to get up and found she couldn't, so she flattened herself against the wall as much as possible. Gerhard aimed his pistol and fired, but the black haired man managed to jump out of the way just in time. The other German ran past him as Gerhard shot again, and the black haired man ran after him. But as he started after the German with Suzette's necklace, the woman dashed in the room, asking wildly what was going on, and the black-haired man collided with her.
"COME ON!" Gerhard demanded, grabbing the woman before the black-haired man could get to his feet.
Suzette finally pulled herself up as the black haired man jumped up and started chasing after the fleeing Germans, but the sound of a car told Suzette the three had gotten away with her necklace.
After a moment, the black haired man returned to Suzette's destroyed flat.
Suzette stared at him.
"What…just…happened…here?" She demanded slowly.
"I'll explain it to you later. Come on, we have to go." He prompted, grabbing her hand and leading her out of the house.
"Wait! Where are we going!?" Suzette cried, struggling to keep up.
"London!" The man replied.
"London! What!? Mon Dieu, I'm not even dressed!" Suzette complained breathlessly as she followed the black-haired man.
The man didn't seem to hear.
~ London, England---The Next Day ~
Jonathan was over Rick's again. With Evelyn off to Dublin on to hear that Egyptologist, he was horribly bored. Bored enough to want to spend time with his boorish, American soon-to-be-in-law.
"So, anymore strange dreams?" Rick kidded as Jonathan sat down.
"Very funny. And no, I didn't dream last night." Jonathan retorted dryly.
"Oh, so you went to be sober." Rick raised an eyebrow, smirking.
"You are just full of humor today, aren't you? I have half a mind to tell my sister not to marry a Yank like you!" Jonathan frowned.
"Oh come on, you know I'm just kidding…besides, I doubt Evelyn would listen to you anyway. She loves me, remember." Rick winked, smiling at the thought of his soon-to-be-wife. The two had held off on marriage for a few years, until Evelyn got a comfortable job working for the British Museum, and until Rick had finally decided to commit. After all…Rick had been alone for a while, and he wanted to be completely sure he would be able to stay there for Evelyn. But neither of them had minded waiting, and as soon as Evelyn returned from Dublin, the wedding plans would be discussed.
"Oh shut up." Jonathan shook his head.
Rick was about to reply when a knock came at the door. Rick stood and ambled over. Jonathan turned, but his vision was blocked by Rick, as he opened the door.
There was silence for a moment. Uneasy silence.
"Rick? Who is it?" Jonathan asked.
"Oh no! Not you again!" Rick cried unhappily.
"Uh-oh…" Jonathan muttered to himself.
"Hello O'Connell…we have another ancient evil to take care of." A very familiar voice introduced, and Jonathan slumped down in his chair, pretending to faint.
***
Suzette was more than confused. The black-haired man, who had introduced himself as Ardeth Bey, had told her very little else. She still had no idea why the Germans had stolen her necklace the night before, or why it mattered as much as it did. The two of them had flown to London the night before, then he had given her money for clothing, and now they were sitting in the parlor room of some other stranger's flat. And to make it worse, the two men seemed horribly unhappy at Ardeth's appearance. The one, the Englishman (the other was an American) seemed almost ready to faint.
"Rick, Jonathan, this is Suzette Bonnvillian." Ardeth introduced, then turned to Suzette. "Rick O'Connell, Jonathan Carnahan." He motioned. The American was Rick, the Englishman, Jonathan. Suzette nodded, not really knowing what to say.
"What is it this time, Ardeth?" Rick asked tiredly.
"Two men..." he turned to Suzette for confirmation, and she nodded, "Have stolen something quite powerful from this girl, and I fear, if they unlock it, the world will be in danger." Ardeth explained.
"Wow, that sounds familiar." Rick rolled his eyes.
"I know you have had enough of world-threatening disasters, Rick, but this is important." Ardeth sighed patiently.
"What is this thing?" Jonathan asked.
"Well, it is a pendant, which was once part of a bridle." Ardeth started, but Suzette cut him off.
"A bridle…the men were asking for a bridle when they came. I had no clue what they were talking about…I thought, perhaps, they had mistranslated, because their French was so bad…" Suzette mused.
"What language did they speak?" Rick asked.
"German." Suzette returned. "And there was a woman with them."
"A woman?" Ardeth frowned.
"Yes…she seemed upset by the two men, but she let them destroy my room anyway. They stole my necklace…which, as far as I'm concerned, they can have…then left." Suzette nodded.
Ardeth turned to Suzette incredulously.
"Do you know the power of that jewel? When unlocked, it can unleash a force greater than all the armies of the world, and whoever controls that force, controls humanity! The bridle that the jewel once was part of belonged to an ancient warrior…a great king, who tried to conquer the known world. And he would have succeeded, but the bridle was stolen from him before he could, and it was lost to history. That bridle allows whoever owns it to realize that dream…of controlling humanity." Ardeth explained, impressing upon them the significance and danger of what could happen.
"All right, wonderful. So we have to steal this world-conquering thing back from some Germans, and everything's peachy again, right?" Jonathan surmised flippantly.
"Right." Ardeth nodded.
Rick sighed.
"Well, since I know we'll be doing this anyway, why put up an argument? But what about Evelyn? She's still in Ireland." Rick reminded. He wasn't sure that he wanted Evelyn to come, but he knew she would want to come.
"We cannot wait. This must be dealt with now. I assume you two will come?" Ardeth prompted.
"Yes, we'll come." Rick agreed, getting to his feet.
"Hey, wait a minute! I never said I would do anything!" Jonathan protested.
"Come on Jonathan, you know you want to!" Rick smirked at him, pulling him up to his feet as well.
"Rick! Oh come on!" Jonathan cried.
Rick rolled his eyes and turned to Ardeth. Suzette watched him in confusion…the man seemed to have no problem believing Ardeth's crazy story about ancient evil. And, judging from their conversation, the three men had faced some sort of ancient evil before. It was almost ridiculous! Suzette still couldn't believe her stupid necklace held the key to unlocking a world-conquering force. It had just brought her bad luck! Suddenly, she realized she had been about to pawn it, and an involuntary smile crossed her face.
"I knew it was worth more than thirty francs." She murmured.
Ardeth, Jonathan, and Rick turned to her in confusion, and Suzette shrugged, smiling brightly. Rick nodded to himself, then turned back to Ardeth.
"So, where are we going?"
"Egypt, of course." Ardeth replied.
"Egypt…bloody lovely." Jonathan sighed.