Chapter 8
Oscar Mann knew the course of history. He'd witnessed it through the stories of his father and the other men of the Third Reich who'd escaped the Allied Forces in the mid-1940s and found refuge in Argentina. He understood that his quest was one that had been beyond the grasp of other ambitious men. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte and Adolf Hitler had all attempted what he was sure he'd win. World domination was within his grasp and his name would top those in the history books for Oscar Mann was not only certain he'd prevail, but positive he'd rewrite history in the process.
He was positive, because unlike the great military leaders of Caesar and Napoleon, he would not rely solely on military strategy. And unlike Hitler whose doctrine of hate and control had nearly won him all of Europe, he was not interested in rhetoric. What he was going to use was a power beyond that which mankind had ever witnessed. He was going to wield the power of the Fortress of Aten.
Granted, if his father and his other fascist cronies were alive right now, they'd be chastising him for chasing fairy tales. Yet through his studies, Oscar had learned that their own Fuhrer had always kept an open mind about such endeavors into the mystical and he had actually sent historians down to Egypt during the Second World War to do further research. Lucky for the world that Hitler had uncovered little, otherwise everyone would be speaking German today under the shadow of a black swastika. And lucky for Oscar that the Nazi regime never found the Fortress of Aten for it meant Oscar Mann would finally achieve what his father's Nazis never accomplished and that was to control the world.
His motivation was simple. He was greedy. He had no fanatical doctrine he wished to impose upon the rest of the world. He was simply an egomaniac who wanted all the toys to himself.
Growing up listening to his father and his exiled compatriots Oscar had realized at a very young age that in order to win the world, one couldn't impose their beliefs upon the entire population and expect them to obey. So instead of forcing people into his fold, he was planning on changing history to his benefit, compiling enough wealth and fortune to be untouchable and then slowly bend the world in his favor. With some patience and a little skill in history, he would surely prevail.
Patience and skill however, were proving sparse in the Sahara. The heat and sun were relentless upon his fair head and skin and his historian was having little luck reading the Staff of the Sun. Oscar had assumed wrongly that with the assistance of the staff they'd find the Fortress of Aten quickly. Yet the staff that allowed one to look beyond their location and realm came with no instructions and gave no grid coordinates. It was simply mind-boggling to use and Oscar was glad the historian he had teamed with was a more patient man than he.
"Now that the storm has let up," the French historian, Mr. Jean Danton said, "we should search this canyon." The small Frenchman readjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles upon his round face. He was a short, stocky man, not one accustomed to such an arduous adventure and sweat poured down his face smudging the sand and dirt that the windstorm had placed there.
"Like we've searched the other thirty or so canyons and ravines?" Oscar asked with sarcasm and the four other men with them laughed.
One of the men was a trusted ally of Oscar's who would no doubt serve as a head of state in Oscar's new world once their mission was complete. The other three men were simply hired mercenaries that a British scoundrel by the name of Jeffreys had hired for him. They spoke no German, little English and most importantly, asked no questions. They could be trusted because they were loyal to no one but money. If they were paid well, they did as they were told. And paying well was something Oscar could afford to do.
He'd amassed a good fortune over the years in his shipping business and though he'd made enough money to live comfortably, he had not made enough to satisfy himself. What he wanted, what he needed, was to be the richest and most powerful man on the planet. After all, he was German and he'd learned through his father that Germans were the most industrious people on the planet. Oscar had been taught the ways of the Nazis and their beliefs and he too agreed with that doctrine to a certain extent. So when he envisioned himself as the sole ruler of the world, as the wealthiest human upon the planet, he thought it achievable.
Perhaps that made him appear a bit too "driven" in comparison to the rest of humankind. Yet that was merely the opinion of people who could only hope to accomplish what he was setting out to do.
Jean frowned at the sarcasm and asked, "Would you rather give up the search all together, Monsieur Mann? Because aside from searching each canyon and ravine that looks similar to the one shown to us by this staff, I know no other way."
Oscar shook his head and sighed with frustration. "No, Mr. Danton. We shall search here. I just wish we could understand the vague signs shown to us by this blasted relic."
"As do I," Jean replied. "Yet it did show us an exact picture of the Medjai chief in Cairo. That is something."
"Something, yes," Oscar agreed reluctantly. "But I do not believe the Medjai are a threat we need to fear too greatly. Little is known of this desert group and as we have made our way unhindered through the desert, I am beginning to believe they are more local myth than reality. Yes, we killed a man in Cairo who was shown to us by the staff, but I do not think it would have made a difference to us if we had allowed him to live."
"Then why did you have him killed?" Jean asked.
"For the sport of it. And, just in case the locals are right, at least we have slowed the desert warriors down. I am positive that without a leader, they will be unable to respond."
Jean shook his head and carefully laid the five-foot long staff in the cargo hold of the large SUV. "I have read much of the local history of the Medjai. They have been around for centuries. I know they still exist and I am positive they are a threat. And don't be too certain that we have been making our way through the Sahara unencumbered. If I were a betting man, I'd say they were very close and have been aware of our movements for months now. They just haven't shown up because we aren't close. When we near the Fortress of Aten, then the Medjai will show their faces."
Oscar studied the historian for a good long time. It was obvious this man believed in the existence and ability of the Medjai. And Jean Danton was not a stupid man. On the contrary, he was quite cunning. People, however, underestimated him for his pudgy, bookish appearance gave one the impression he was a bumbling intellectual only interested in academics. After having worked along side him for the past few months, Oscar knew better of the man.
Turning his eyes away from Jean, Oscar glanced up at the dark sky. It was still night and the canyon before them was made darker by the shadows cast by the moon. It would be tough going in this ravine with its branching canyons but it had to be searched. And the fastest method was to split up and take a branch each. He was awaiting air support from his other trusted ally, Erik Otto, and had been for two weeks now. Whenever Erik and the helicopter finally came through, he was positive the searching would go that much faster. Until that time, they were on foot, for this canyon floor was impassable by car.
"Well, there's no desert warriors here now," Oscar announced. "Let's split up and start searching. Danton, you wait here with the vehicle. One of you come with me. Herman, take the other two Egyptians and search the west branch."
His friend and partner, Herman Weiss, nodded in agreement and headed off with the two hired mercenaries. Oscar left with the other mercenary, and slowly they trudged their way through the rocky canyon floor. ****
Rose's eyes fluttered opened though she would rather have not awakened at all. Her mouth was dry, her stomach grumbled and that all too familiar ache in her head was still present. In fact, that ache was more pronounced thanks to her hunger and thirst.
After a few moments of dealing with the realities of being conscious, Rose began to collect her thoughts and try to remember just where exactly she was and what her situation might be.
She saw a strange dancing light to her left and felt something warm and solid beneath her head. Then a comforting hand ran through her hair and massaged gently at the back of her neck. She allowed herself to enjoy the sensations before she completely realized just who exactly was creating them. When she realized it was her captor, the Medjai warrior, and that he was not only touching her tenderly but that she was also lying snuggled next to him, wrapped in his robe and head on his chest, her breath froze in her lungs. She didn't move away, however, for he also had an arm around her and she could sense the power of that arm and knew instinctively she would be unable to break his hold if he pulled her back.
Instead, she remained still, her body stiff with tension and her mind attempting to shake off the fuzzy veil that still held it hostage.
"You are awake," the man stated suddenly, and Rose was shocked that he even noticed. She'd done nothing to signal her alertness other than open her eyes and tense slightly, holding her breath. How had he known?
"No thanks to you," she decided to say, remembering the events that had transpired earlier. "If that bullet had been a few inches to the left."
"But it wasn't," he interrupted to insist. "I hit what I was aiming for. I would not have shot you."
"That's reassuring," Rose drawled. Yet she still did not move to get away or stand up. She reasoned that her delay was only due to her headache and exhaustion from her ordeal. Her subconscious, on the other hand, knew it was more. Part of her was attracted to this dark warrior who hid his face and spoke of secret Egyptian history. And she was attracted to him because he was confident and bold and because he had said nothing taunting to her when she'd lost her head earlier.
The warrior's hand continued to massage her neck in an easy rhythm as he challenged, "If you do not believe me, why are you still using me for your pillow?"
Pride forced her to move. Quickly she stood up, though her body protested the effort and she swayed from the sudden movement.
In a swift move the warrior jumped to his own feet and steadied Rose with his hands upon her upper arms. She gripped his forearms tightly, fearful the cave floor would tilt and send her plummeting to her behind. His grip was solid and she was certain she couldn't fall with him holding her upright.
Taking deep breaths the spell passed and Rose nodded her head saying, "I think I'm okay now."
"Perhaps some food and water will help you," the man suggested.
Rose again nodded and watched as the warrior moved over to his saddlebag and extracted a pouch of dried fruit and a canteen of water. While he moved, Rose's eyes made contact with the sidearm holstered at his hip. An idea filled her head in that instant, an idea on how to possibly escape.
She paused in her plotting as her gaze swung to the narrow path that led out of the cavern. What would she do once she escaped and where would she go? She had to find Ali, but where? And would she really last in the Sahara with no direction and only a horse for transportation?
She sighed. Her situation certainly seemed as hopeless now as it did when she'd cried in the warrior's arms.
The warrior returned with the promised food and water and Rose mumbled a small thank you. While she satisfied her thirst and hunger she replayed the scene that had happened earlier. The warrior had proven that he was not afraid to use excessive amounts of force to keep her. Though she doubted he would hurt her, he would go to extremes to hinder her from escaping. She wondered exactly to what extremes she would go to escape him.
"When you are finished," the man spoke up, "we can leave. The storm has let up and I would like to rejoin my men before the sunrise."
"So your band of soldiers can continue looking for the bad guys of the Sahara?" Rose asked mockingly.
"This is no game, Rose," the warrior warned in a low voice. "The men looking for the Fortress of Aten are dangerous."
"If that's so, why are you making me tag along? Wouldn't it be safer for me someplace else?" she challenged.
"Why? You have already proven your ability to defend yourself and ride better than my men. I believe the safest place for you is riding at my side."
Rose couldn't help but warm at the compliment. Perhaps this man did appreciate a woman with strength. As quickly as she warmed at the compliment, she chastised herself for her reaction. Again, she had to remind herself that her mission was not to become intrigued with some masked man, but to find a way out of this mess and back to Ali. Ali was her true friend and Ali respected her. He may not be as daring as this warrior, but he was solid and trustworthy and safe-exactly what she needed in her life right now.
"I'd rather not ride anywhere with you," Rose decided to say, though the force she had hoped to punctuate her words with failed to resonate.
Suddenly those deep, dark expressive eyes the man possessed narrowed on her face and he declared boldly, "You know, you still have yet to thank me for saving you from your ex-fiancé. After all, I could have easily left you with those men." His eyes then turned the darkest shade of black and Rose wondered if it wasn't just a trick of the dancing light as he added, "Or, I could have had the lot of you killed with just one command."
For a man who had professed that he did not take the lives of innocent bystanders, he was certainly doing a good job of professing otherwise now. His words sent an eerie chill down Rose's spine and she felt her mouth involuntarily pull into a frown.
"Good, you do realize I am not a man to be trifled with," the warrior announced as he studied her expression. "I just wanted to make it clear to you that when we return to my men, you will keep your mouth shut. You will not mock me, you will not question me and you will lose every ounce of sarcasm you possess. In private, I will grant your wishes and allow your sharp tongue, but not in public. Is that understood?"
Rose mulled his words over and decided he wasn't being completely unreasonable. After all, he did have men to command and she could see how he could not have his authority questioned, especially by an American woman who knew nothing of their culture or history. And though he bore little resemblance to Ali in his attitude and demands, he didn't entirely remind her of Victor either. Victor had not only refused to allow her to question him in public, but any form of sarcasm or complaint that issued from her mouth in private received a quick reprimand either in the form of a retort or a hard slap. And as the control had grown more and more stifling during the year they had been together, Rose had made the decision to flee. Life with such tyranny had been no life worth living and Rose had thought she had escaped such control.until now. Now, she was again a captive, though not in the same sense she had been with her father and with Victor. But she was a captive none-the-less and she refused to be anyone's prisoner again.
Instead of answering the warrior's question, Rose tested her drama skills. Acting as if another wave of lightheadedness was overtaking her, she swayed and placed a hand on her head while she grimaced with pain. Reacting exactly as she suspected, the warrior reached out with both hands to steady her. His hands landed on her shoulders and she placed her hands upon his stomach. For the brief time her hands landed there, she felt the solid flex of muscles beneath her fingers. She wasn't touching him for the pleasure, however, and without lingering there, she quickly slid her hand to his side and grabbed the Glock handgun from its holster. ****
There was an opening hidden well in the rock wall, but Herman saw it just the same. He doubted it was the Fortress of Aten for they had seen several cave openings like this one before and none had proven to belong to the fortress.
He had heard that the Fortress of Aten was hidden in a small, narrow ravine, barely accessible by horse and rider and that its entrance was marked by a tall, columned façade literally carved into the face of the canyon wall. But that was just myth and no one in centuries had laid eyes upon the fortress. So it could very well be the fortress was simply hidden away in a cave and to be safe, it meant searching anything and everything that could be a possible location. And this cave was no different.
When they entered the cave and found two bridled horses waiting patiently, however, Herman's heart leapt. This meant something was here in this cave.
"Omar, station yourself out here in case something happens," Herman ordered to one of the mercenaries. "Fadi, with me. And be ready. Both of you."
They nodded and Fadi unslung his MP-5 assault rifle while Omar unholstered his handgun and moved to a position outside the cave. When the large anteroom of the cave narrowed into a dark path in the rock, Herman's pulse quickened. Could this be the fortress they had been searching for these past few months? Could it be that this narrow path opened into the temple they were seeking? He began to replay all that Jean Danton had told them about loose translations of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and inaccurate historic recordings about the fortress's description and location and he grew more and more certain this cave could be the best shot they'd had yet. And then he heard voices.
****
Ali should have known better than to underestimate Rose for the umpteenth time. Each time he allowed his guard to slip around her, she pulled a new trick out of her bag. Now, she was holding him at gunpoint with his own gun!
Yet his concern for her well being certainly overrode any logical and tactical thoughts that his brain produced. So when she had looked about ready to faint, he'd of course rushed to her rescue.
"Like I said," she spoke up as she stepped back out of his reach, the barrel of his Glock pointed right at his chest, "I'd rather not ride anywhere with you. And you just declared that you'd grant my wishes in private. I wish to be rid of you and on my way to my friend's village."
Ali should have been ecstatic that she was working so diligently to escape the "warrior" him and find her way back to the "friend" him. But it was difficult to be ecstatic about anything when the barrel of a loaded gun was aimed dead center at his chest.
With a sigh, Ali finally decided it was time to drop the charade. He had not wanted to reveal himself to her like this. He had wanted to have her at home where he could sit down and calmly explain about his history and duty. This gun, however, was going to change his plans.
"Rose," he said seriously and was just about to pull down his veil when his ears picked up the faint scuff of footsteps to his right. ****
There was a change in the warrior's voice when he said her name. His accent seemed to slip away, and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn it was Ali standing in front of her saying her name. But it wasn't Ali, it was an incorrigible desert leader who had her mistaken for some picture on a wall and though he was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, his eyes showed no fear.
She had to respect him for that. A brave man was hard to come by in this modern age. Most would be begging and pleading with her to let them go or groveling like a child, shaking and crying. This man, however, hinted at no weak emotions and his brown eyes actually conveyed a hint of frustration and irritation with her.
She wasn't sure what she would do if he called her bluff. And from the expression in his eyes, it was quite possible he would do just that. If he started toward her bravely and decided to take the gun back, Rose would have no option left for escape, for she knew in her heart she could not shoot him. She liked him too much to kill him and besides, it certainly was not in her personality to shoot anyone. Sure, she was skilled with a weapon for her father had taught her to shoot and handle herself at a young age. But she was abhorred to violence and wanted no part of it, even now. She would fight for her life, but her life was not in danger with this man. She merely wanted to leave his presence and find Ali. Nothing more, nothing less.
Her plans and wants, though, were about ready to change. When a Caucasian man dressed in khaki cargo pants and a dark T-shirt entered the cave with an automatic weapon in hand, Rose had the sinking feeling that her situation had just compounded tenfold.
"Well, well," the man spoke in English with a slight European sounding accent. "What have we here?"
Neither Rose nor the warrior said a word and Rose quickly lowered the handgun to her side, hoping it was well hidden from their unexpected company. Her gut instinct was screaming that this man was not her savior and that she was better off with the warrior.
The man stepped further into the room, his weapon trained on the warrior and another man dressed similarly and also armed followed behind him.
The second man, an Egyptian, seemed to hesitate as his eyes landed on the warrior and he uttered one simple word, "Medjai." He seemed to gasp the word as if he was shocked to see a Medjai warrior and he hesitated, nearly dropping his gun in the process.
"Medjai, huh?" the European repeated. "So, they really do exist. Must mean we're getting close to the fortress, Fadi."
The fortress? The Fortress of Aten? Rose studied these men and replayed their words and she was certain this situation was really, really bad.
"Do you know where the Fortress of Aten is, Medjai?" the European man asked as he neared the warrior, the barrel of his automatic weapon only inches from the warrior's chest.
The warrior didn't answer. He merely stood in his place, his eyes trained on this new aggressor and showing no sign of his thoughts or intentions.
"What? You don't speak English?" the European taunted. The man then swung his eyes Rose's way and she saw only trouble in their pale depths. "Do you speak English, lady?"
From the corner of her eye she watched as the warrior's hand crept toward his belt where a sheathed knife was barely visible. As if she could read the Medjai warrior's mind, Rose knew exactly what he was going to do. If she could keep the European's attention long enough, perhaps the warrior could disarm the men.
"Maybe," Rose finally answered. "That depends on what you need to know."
"Does he speak English?" the European asked as he nodded in the direction of the warrior.
Rose allowed her eyes to wander over to the Egyptian before answering. He was still staring awe-struck at the warrior and Rose realized he would be easy to disarm for his attention was not entirely on the situation at hand.
"Well, does he?" the man then demanded when she failed to answer.
Slowly sliding her hand holding the gun further behind her thigh, Rose shook her head and said, "No. I've been trying to communicate with him since he kidnapped me. Thank goodness you showed up when you did." Bravely she moved forward, hoping she sounded and looked like a hostage.
The European apparently bought her act, for he failed to halt her approach with a threat or a word.
"I've been his captive for two days now," Rose continued.
If the warrior thought she was turning against him, he didn't show it, for his hand was still sliding toward his knife and his eyes never left his prey.
"Really?" the man asked. "What did you do to deserve such." he paused and glanced around the dimly lit cave, ".accommodations?" he finished.
Moving slightly to her right, trying to place the European between her and the armed Egyptian, Rose fibbed, "I was with a group on an expedition of sorts. An archeological dig from an American university. Apparently we were camped too close to sacred ruins or something, because suddenly, the Medjai attacked and killed nearly everyone in my group. I was taken hostage. I still don't know why."
The European was a tall, well-built man in his early forties. He could have been handsome if his intentions weren't so obviously menacing. And from that cool, evil look in his eyes, it was obvious that what the warrior had told her about the Fortress of Aten and the group seeking it out was a reality.
"I know why," the European stated. "A beauty like you could catch a fine price in certain countries."
Rose wanted to physically gag as the man issued those words and then reached out and placed a finger on the bump on her head.
"Ouch, looks like someone tried to damage that fine face," he then said, stupidly turning his back on the warrior.
In that instant, Rose watched as the warrior drew his knife and hurled it at the Egyptian blocking the exit. The knife stuck with a thud in the man's chest, and his hand jerked up involuntarily, taking his weapon with him and a loud burst of gunfire rapidly shot from the barrel of his gun as he fell.
Rose jumped at the unexpected firing, as did the European, but the man regained his composure before the Medjai warrior could disarm him and spun swiftly, aiming his MP5 again at the warrior's chest.
"Stop right there, Medjai," the man growled. "Just in case you can understand me, I want you to know this before you die. I thoroughly enjoyed killing your leader when we found him in Cairo. That Staff of the Sun relic is one handy object. It led us right to him. And now, I'm going to thoroughly enjoy killing you and taking your lady too."
Rose could see the man's finger tightening on the trigger and again saw no fear in the eyes of the Medjai, only anger. Reacting quickly, for she knew she was safer with the Medjai than with this terrorist, Rose pulled the Glock out from behind her leg and placed it on the back of the man's neck.
"Do it, and die," she warned.
The man froze and the warrior immediately reached for the rifle. As the Medjai began to pull the gun away, the European swung an elbow back, connecting with Rose's shoulder. The blow caused her to lose her grip on the Glock and the handgun went tumbling to the cave floor.
She and the European dove for the gun at the same time and it became trapped beneath her body. The European was on top of her and with his massive weight, she was unable to pull the gun out from underneath her.
She watched as his hand reached out and grabbed one of the nearby swords that had been left on the cave floor since their arrival. His hand just barely closed over the handle when the Medjai's foot connected with the man's stomach and sent him rolling off of Rose. The blow seemed to phase the large man little, and he was just springing to his feet, wielding the sword in front of him when the Medjai moved in again.
Quickly, Rose crawled away, taking the gun with her and finding the fallen MP5 on the ground not three feet away. She picked it up too and aimed her Glock at the fighting men but she had neither the nerve, nor a clean shot. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the fallen Egyptian push to a seated position against the wall and lift his weapon with the little strength he obviously had left and aim it at the warrior's back.
"No!" Rose screamed and without thinking, only reacting on instinct, she fired the Glock at the Egyptian and hit her mark. The man slumped down and the gun fell from his limp fingers.
She knew she'd be sick later, but for now, her life was at stake and she had no time to analyze the action she had just been forced to take.
The shot from her gun distracted the European long enough for the warrior to land a clean blow to the man's face. The sword nearly tumbled from his hand, but he managed to hang onto it and swing it toward the Medjai again. Agilely, the warrior jumped sideways and dodged the blade. When the man swung past him, the warrior threw a knee to the man's gut.
Rose was certain the two blows the warrior had landed would be enough to topple the man, but the European did not falter as he swept the warrior's legs out from under him, then raised the sword high above his head for a strike.
The warrior too was strong and swift and as the man's torso came down with the swing of the sword, the warrior raised his feet, kicked out and sent the man stumbling backwards a good ten feet. With a push from his hands, the warrior was suddenly back on his feet.
The European, however, had recovered and he was charging the warrior. Again, reacting on instinct, Rose yelled, "Medjai! Here!" and tossed the Glock to the warrior. She closed her eyes when she heard the shot and knew exactly what had happened.
****
It seemed an eternity before the echo of gunfire quieted in the cave chamber. A plume of white-blue smoke hung in the air along with the harsh smell of cordite. At Ali's feet laid the European man who was no doubt a member of the group searching for the Fortress of Aten and the man who had assassinated his father.
Three men he was now responsible for slaying himself in the past week and two more were dead because of his orders or actions. The body count was piling up and he was positive it would grow considerably higher before his tasks were complete. If this incident was any precursor of what was to come, he knew the group looking for the fortress would fight to the death. He and his men had better be prepared.
Ali took no pride in the fact that he had killed. It was nothing he relished and nothing he looked forward to doing. In these more modern times, the death toll seemed to stay moderately low. When his father had ruled during the time of the two world wars, when North Africa was a hotbed of rival armies and greedy explorers, the death toll exacted by the Medjai had been enormous. He realized his grandfather, Ardeth Bay, had more than likely been forced to take ten times the number of lives that Ali would ever have to take. And as Ali stared at the body at his feet, he wondered for the first time if he had the same fortitude to lead and survive that Ardeth had possessed.
His grandfather's name was on the wall to his right. Ardeth had been considered one of the greatest leaders of the Medjai for he had not only saved the ancient sites from the destruction of armies in two great wars, but also defeated the creature Imhotep twice and the Army of Anubis.
Ali still remembered the tales his grandfather had told him when he was a young boy. It had seemed like pure fiction when he was a child, but now that he was facing the dangers head on, he realized there was nothing fictional involved. It was all dangerously real and the proof was lying at his feet.
He reached out and touched his grandfather's and father's names on the cave wall, said a silent prayer that he had the strength to endure, then turned to look at Rose.
She was huddled on the floor, her knees drawn tightly against her chest, her head down and eyes closed. An automatic rifle lay at her feet. It was obvious she had been pushed as far as her endurance could take her and Ali wondered if bringing her here to Egypt had been the best course of action.
Victor's face flashed in his mind at that thought, and Ali was certain in that instant that her chances here with him were greater than they would have been had he left her to Victor and her father in America.
Striding across the cave to Rose, Ali knelt down behind her and pulled down his veil. After what had just happened, he knew he had to reveal himself to her. It was only fair she realize the truth.
He placed his hands upon her shoulders and could feel her body shake beneath his touch. He was positive it was not his touch that was causing her reaction. No, it was more than likely the ordeal she had been forced to endure for the past week.
"You saved my life," he whispered lowly from behind. "I thank you."
Her hands moved to her face and she covered her eyes with them.
"I figured I was safer with you than with them," she mumbled. "After all, you only want to marry me. Who knows what they would have done with me."
Ali wished she would turn to look at him. His nerve was evading him and his instinct was to replace the covering over his face and resume his charade.
"I feel I want to marry you even more now," he announced with a light tone. "You are brave. The perfect wife for a Medjai warrior."
His hand landed in her hair and he smoothed it with care. She did not flinch, nor did she turn to look at him. She remained sitting on the floor, her face hidden from him with her hands.
"I don't think I could survive being married to you," she said sadly. "Its too dangerous."
"At times," he agreed.
Ali moved his hand to lightly massage her neck. He needed to touch her now not only for her peace of mind, but also for his own. When those men had held them at gunpoint, his life had flashed before his eyes and he had been disappointed that his life had barely included Rose. Now that the danger had passed, he needed to be close to Rose, needed to secure his relationship with her. The friendship they had fostered was dear to his heart, but he no longer wanted her as just a friend. He was attracted to her and always had been and touching her now was so incredibly reassuring.
"But you have proven your strength, Rose," he continued as he lowered his lips to her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "You will be celebrated in my tribe for your courage."
She chuckled, but it was a sad, weary laugh.
"I'm not courageous," she declared. "I've just shot a man, I feel sick to my stomach and I can't stop shaking. And I just want to be reunited with my friend. I miss him so much."
"This friend you have been speaking of..do you love him?" Ali asked, anxious to know her feelings ever since he had revealed his own to her in Cairo.
Rose removed her hands from her face and lowered her head to her knees. Ali could see her eyes were still closed and he was glad, for he wanted to hear her answer before she saw him.
"I.don't know," she confessed. "For so long I'd convinced myself that we were just friends, and then all this happens..I just haven't had time to analyze my feelings."
Ali would take that answer for now, for it was logical. Of course, he had hoped for more of a true declaration.
"And me?" he then asked. "Could you love a man like me?"
Again Rose chuckled and she shook her head.
"Your timing really needs some work," she quipped. "But if you must know now, all I can say is that I don't know. I admire your bravery, but I don't even know what you look like."
Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Ali moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "Then turn and look upon my face, my love. Kiss me and tell me what you feel."
He felt Rose's body halt its shaking in that instant and her back stiffened with tension. Then ever so slowly she raised her head, wiped at her eyes and began to turn. Before her eyes could befall his face, a cold gust of wind blew through the cavern in a hard burst. The torch flame flickered out and they were encased in complete darkness.
Ali didn't recognize the sign at first, for he was too intent on kissing Rose. She didn't falter at the darkness and willingly turned into his arms. She placed a hand upon his cheek and remarked, "So much for seeing your face. But I will kiss you just this once at least to thank you for fighting to saving my life too."
Her arms reached up and looped around his neck and her lips willingly met his. Unlike the previous kisses they'd shared, this one was not forced, nor was it short and sweet. They kissed like lovers, their mouths hungry for something stable and warm after their ordeal with the gunmen. It was a joining that affirmed life and after several moments, it developed into a joining of passion.
Ali was the first to pull away. Reluctantly, he pulled his head back as a groan was building in his throat. Now he wanted to do more than simply kiss her. His desire was aflame but the cold wind that had dosed their light was once more circling the chamber.
"What is that?" Rose asked quietly.
Ali touched her lips with one short, breathtaking kiss and she did not protest. Then he released her and replaced his veil. The wind was a sign, and he was only now reading it.
"Come, we must leave. More danger awaits us," he said seriously.
The wind had extinguished their torch right on cue. If Rose had seen his face, she would have been angry. He knew her well enough to predict that. And her anger would have more than likely caused her to run. But running could not be permitted because Ali was now certain that more members of the terrorist group were nearby.
"Danger? What?" Rose shot out.
Finding the saddlebag on the floor, Ali extracted the small flashlight, replaced the Glock in his holster and reached for his over-robe.
"The wind, it was a sign, Rose. There are more men nearby. We must leave before." Ali's words trailed off as he heard the horses nicker with impatience. Someone had already arrived.
"Quickly, gather the other weapons," he instructed and he belted on his two swords and picked up one of the discarded MP5s.
Rose didn't hesitate, nor did she argue. She pulled the MP5 from the dead Egyptian's hand and then bravely wiggled the knife from his chest. She handed the knife to Ali and slung the MP5 over her shoulder, keeping it at the ready.
He looked down at her with some amusement when she stood boldly next to him with the rifle and as if reading his expression, she said, "I may not like violence, but I don't have much of a choice right now, do I?"
"Yes, you will make a very good wife," Ali drawled one last time before the footsteps of the approaching man reached them in the cavern.
This time, they held the element of surprise, and when the man stepped into the cavern and was blinded by the beam of the flashlight, he reacted by dropping his weapon. Quickly, he turned and ran back through the rocky path and Ali followed right behind him.
They broke through into the gray light of dawn and when Ali reached the man, he heard the last bit of a one-sided conversation the man was hurriedly relaying over a hand-held radio.
"Medjai," the man was shouting into the radio. "I fear Herman and Fadi are dead! We are in the west ravine."
The man's speech halted when he spun around and saw Ali in front of him, wielding a sword. He visibly shook and Ali took much pride in the fact that even in this modern day, a Medjai warrior cloaked in black with their traditional scimitar could still evoke such fear in a man.
"Be sure to tell them the Medjai will come for the rest very soon," Ali growled.
The man's eyes grew large and he appeared to be frozen to his spot.
"Please." the man begged.
Ali placed the tip of his sword against the man's shoulder and said, "I am going to spare your life so that you may warn the others in your group. Give up the search for the Fortress of Aten, or die. It is your choice."
To punctuate his threat, Ali pressed the tip of his sword into the man's shoulder until he drew blood. When the man protested with a shout of pain, Ali then swung his fist and hit the man in the face, rendering him unconscious. His deed done, Ali turned to find Rose waiting by with the horses.
"Come," he announced as he grabbed the satellite phone from the saddlebag and took the saddled horse. "We must meet up with my men."
Without issuing a word, Rose swung up onto the bare back of the horse she had originally stolen, and waited for Ali to mount. As soon as he did, they raced out of the canyon, to find his men. ****
Oscar Mann was deep in the shadows of the eastern ravine when the call came through on the radio from Omar. He attempted to reply, but received no further response and he assumed that meant Omar had met with a horrible fate as well. He cursed under his breath and the mercenary regarded him with wonder.
"It's the Medjai, Omar says they attacked. He thinks Herman and Fadi are dead," Oscar explained. "Come on, let's get over to the western ravine."
Just as they were turning in the opposite direction to try and find their associates, another call came through on the radio. It was from Jean, the historian, and he at least had some good news.
"Monsieur Mann, your pilot just phoned in. He's finally on his way," Jean relayed.
"At least that's something," Oscar returned. To his man he said, "We need to hurry." His satellite phone was unable to reach his men for the battery was too low for a proper signal. Ali stifled a curse growing in his throat and simply urged his horse on to even more speed. Rose, riding right next to him, did the same and he was surprised she didn't once veer away or attempt another escape. She seemed content to ride with him and he assumed she had felt they had bonded with the ordeal in the cave.
****
Ali, however, wasn't going to inquire of her if that was the case. He figured it best to say nothing and merely ride, enjoying the fact that for the first time in two days, Rose wasn't fighting him.
They rode up a dune and as they crested the mound of sand, a group of dark riders were visible in the distance. His men were coming to look for them and Ali was glad for it would save them much valuable time.
He pulled up his horse and Rose did the same. As the Arabians danced from foot to foot, eager to continue their run, Ali pointed to the distance and announced, "My men are on their way."
"So what are you going to do?" Rose inquired. "Take your warriors and go back to the canyon, looking for the rest of those men?"
"Yes, that is what we are going to do," Ali answered.
"And me? Please don't tell me you're going to make me go back there," Rose said in more of a plea than a question. The underlying desperation in her tone was difficult to miss.
Ali sighed, then made the only logical decision in regards to Rose.
"No, I will not make you remain with me," he said. "I will send you and your friend on your way. The village you seek is only a few hours by horse to the north."
Rose gaped at him. "You're releasing me that easily?"
"I never said I was releasing you. I said I was sending you on your way. You will see me again. I guarantee you of that."
Then he reached under his robe and unclasped the necklace he wore. It was the symbol of his position and had been passed down from chief to chief. He had just recently claimed it, and he was giving it to Rose to signify to his tribe her importance to him.
"Take this," he said, handing her the leather strand that held the gold rectangular charm. Ancient symbols were carved on the one-inch charm that represented honor and strength. "I will come for it when my duties are fulfilled."
"And when you come back for it," Rose questioned, "will you claim me too?"
Ali heard the sarcasm and ignored it. Instead, he answered, "I will not claim you. But you will have to chose your fate."
"My fate? You mean, marry you or suffer the consequences?" she spat out.
"No. I would never allow harm to befall you. Surely you must have figured that out by now," he returned.
He watched as Rose's face changed from defiant to humble. Then she glanced into the distance, watched his men for a brief moment then turned back to him.
"You said in private, I could have my wishes," she began.
"I did," he agreed. "Any wish within my means."
Rose reached up and clasped the golden charm around her neck and said, "I'll wear this and I'll consider your offer if you promise to do one thing for me."
"What?"
"Find my brother, Tony. I've been worried sick about him since you left him in the desert. I can't bear the thought of something happening to him out here."
Ali hesitated, then asked, "And what of Victor? Shall I find him for you too?"
"You can kill Victor for all I care. I just want to see my brother again."
"Then I will try to do as you wish. After we are through with the group searching for the fortress, I will seek out your brother. Meanwhile, return to the village and find your friend, Ali. I feel you have unfinished business with him."
He left her with those cryptic words, then urged his horse down the dune and met his men halfway. They bowed with respect and Devraj rode to his side, Yasmeen on the horse behind him.
"You are well, my lord?" he inquired of Ali in their native tongue.
Ali answered that he was and then watched as Yasmeen's inquisitive eyes landed on Rose.
"You unbound her," Yasmeen replied in Arabic. "Does that mean she knows your identity?"
"No, but we have reached an understanding," Ali answered. "Please, take her to the village, Yasmeen, and speak of nothing of our secrets."
"As you wish," Yasmeen said, as she slid off the back of Devraj's horse then took a pack from another rider. She walked over to Rose's horse and handed the bag up to Rose.
"Your things," she said. "I was able to get them from the Jeep when we were first." she paused and glanced back at Ali and finished, ".captured."
"Thanks," Rose said.
"Please dismount and we will acquire a new horse for this one belongs to the Medjai chieftain," Yasmeen explained and held out a hand to assist Rose down.
Rose dismounted the magnificent stallion and slung her bag over her shoulder. Ali dismounted the horse he'd been riding and handed it off to Yasmeen.
"Travel safely," Ali instructed, then assisted Rose and Yasmeen onto the back of their horse.
Rose looked at him with a strange mix of wonder and respect and Yasmeen merely glared at him. Then Yasmeen kicked the horse into a gallop and the women were gone.
"The men we seek are near!" Ali called to his men as a warrior saddled his horse and he swung onto Raja's back.
Devraj looked at the women disappearing into the distance then back at his leader. "She wore your necklace," he observed. "Yasmeen will not be pleased when she discovers that."
"I do not care what Yasmeen thinks," Ali returned.
"No, but you may care what her father thinks," Devraj relayed. "He has it in his head that you and she will marry."
"That cannot happen," Ali declared, "for it is Rose's face that is depicted in the Cave of Prophecies. She is to be my wife."
Devraj regarded his leader for a long moment with only a slight hint of surprise. His loyal friend was good at disguising his emotions.
"If that is so, do you think sending her off with Yasmeen was the best course of action?" Devraj asked with humor.
"Yasmeen is cunning, but I had little choice."
"Perhaps you are right. Then let us hope that Yasmeen does not taint your bride against you while we are gone."
Ali chuckled for a brief moment and said, "Yes, let us hope not."
All humor, however, quickly left when he saw the helicopter closing in and flying toward the canyon to the east. Ali had a feeling they were going to lose their prey. ****
Oscar Mann knew the course of history. He'd witnessed it through the stories of his father and the other men of the Third Reich who'd escaped the Allied Forces in the mid-1940s and found refuge in Argentina. He understood that his quest was one that had been beyond the grasp of other ambitious men. Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Napoleon Bonaparte and Adolf Hitler had all attempted what he was sure he'd win. World domination was within his grasp and his name would top those in the history books for Oscar Mann was not only certain he'd prevail, but positive he'd rewrite history in the process.
He was positive, because unlike the great military leaders of Caesar and Napoleon, he would not rely solely on military strategy. And unlike Hitler whose doctrine of hate and control had nearly won him all of Europe, he was not interested in rhetoric. What he was going to use was a power beyond that which mankind had ever witnessed. He was going to wield the power of the Fortress of Aten.
Granted, if his father and his other fascist cronies were alive right now, they'd be chastising him for chasing fairy tales. Yet through his studies, Oscar had learned that their own Fuhrer had always kept an open mind about such endeavors into the mystical and he had actually sent historians down to Egypt during the Second World War to do further research. Lucky for the world that Hitler had uncovered little, otherwise everyone would be speaking German today under the shadow of a black swastika. And lucky for Oscar that the Nazi regime never found the Fortress of Aten for it meant Oscar Mann would finally achieve what his father's Nazis never accomplished and that was to control the world.
His motivation was simple. He was greedy. He had no fanatical doctrine he wished to impose upon the rest of the world. He was simply an egomaniac who wanted all the toys to himself.
Growing up listening to his father and his exiled compatriots Oscar had realized at a very young age that in order to win the world, one couldn't impose their beliefs upon the entire population and expect them to obey. So instead of forcing people into his fold, he was planning on changing history to his benefit, compiling enough wealth and fortune to be untouchable and then slowly bend the world in his favor. With some patience and a little skill in history, he would surely prevail.
Patience and skill however, were proving sparse in the Sahara. The heat and sun were relentless upon his fair head and skin and his historian was having little luck reading the Staff of the Sun. Oscar had assumed wrongly that with the assistance of the staff they'd find the Fortress of Aten quickly. Yet the staff that allowed one to look beyond their location and realm came with no instructions and gave no grid coordinates. It was simply mind-boggling to use and Oscar was glad the historian he had teamed with was a more patient man than he.
"Now that the storm has let up," the French historian, Mr. Jean Danton said, "we should search this canyon." The small Frenchman readjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles upon his round face. He was a short, stocky man, not one accustomed to such an arduous adventure and sweat poured down his face smudging the sand and dirt that the windstorm had placed there.
"Like we've searched the other thirty or so canyons and ravines?" Oscar asked with sarcasm and the four other men with them laughed.
One of the men was a trusted ally of Oscar's who would no doubt serve as a head of state in Oscar's new world once their mission was complete. The other three men were simply hired mercenaries that a British scoundrel by the name of Jeffreys had hired for him. They spoke no German, little English and most importantly, asked no questions. They could be trusted because they were loyal to no one but money. If they were paid well, they did as they were told. And paying well was something Oscar could afford to do.
He'd amassed a good fortune over the years in his shipping business and though he'd made enough money to live comfortably, he had not made enough to satisfy himself. What he wanted, what he needed, was to be the richest and most powerful man on the planet. After all, he was German and he'd learned through his father that Germans were the most industrious people on the planet. Oscar had been taught the ways of the Nazis and their beliefs and he too agreed with that doctrine to a certain extent. So when he envisioned himself as the sole ruler of the world, as the wealthiest human upon the planet, he thought it achievable.
Perhaps that made him appear a bit too "driven" in comparison to the rest of humankind. Yet that was merely the opinion of people who could only hope to accomplish what he was setting out to do.
Jean frowned at the sarcasm and asked, "Would you rather give up the search all together, Monsieur Mann? Because aside from searching each canyon and ravine that looks similar to the one shown to us by this staff, I know no other way."
Oscar shook his head and sighed with frustration. "No, Mr. Danton. We shall search here. I just wish we could understand the vague signs shown to us by this blasted relic."
"As do I," Jean replied. "Yet it did show us an exact picture of the Medjai chief in Cairo. That is something."
"Something, yes," Oscar agreed reluctantly. "But I do not believe the Medjai are a threat we need to fear too greatly. Little is known of this desert group and as we have made our way unhindered through the desert, I am beginning to believe they are more local myth than reality. Yes, we killed a man in Cairo who was shown to us by the staff, but I do not think it would have made a difference to us if we had allowed him to live."
"Then why did you have him killed?" Jean asked.
"For the sport of it. And, just in case the locals are right, at least we have slowed the desert warriors down. I am positive that without a leader, they will be unable to respond."
Jean shook his head and carefully laid the five-foot long staff in the cargo hold of the large SUV. "I have read much of the local history of the Medjai. They have been around for centuries. I know they still exist and I am positive they are a threat. And don't be too certain that we have been making our way through the Sahara unencumbered. If I were a betting man, I'd say they were very close and have been aware of our movements for months now. They just haven't shown up because we aren't close. When we near the Fortress of Aten, then the Medjai will show their faces."
Oscar studied the historian for a good long time. It was obvious this man believed in the existence and ability of the Medjai. And Jean Danton was not a stupid man. On the contrary, he was quite cunning. People, however, underestimated him for his pudgy, bookish appearance gave one the impression he was a bumbling intellectual only interested in academics. After having worked along side him for the past few months, Oscar knew better of the man.
Turning his eyes away from Jean, Oscar glanced up at the dark sky. It was still night and the canyon before them was made darker by the shadows cast by the moon. It would be tough going in this ravine with its branching canyons but it had to be searched. And the fastest method was to split up and take a branch each. He was awaiting air support from his other trusted ally, Erik Otto, and had been for two weeks now. Whenever Erik and the helicopter finally came through, he was positive the searching would go that much faster. Until that time, they were on foot, for this canyon floor was impassable by car.
"Well, there's no desert warriors here now," Oscar announced. "Let's split up and start searching. Danton, you wait here with the vehicle. One of you come with me. Herman, take the other two Egyptians and search the west branch."
His friend and partner, Herman Weiss, nodded in agreement and headed off with the two hired mercenaries. Oscar left with the other mercenary, and slowly they trudged their way through the rocky canyon floor. ****
Rose's eyes fluttered opened though she would rather have not awakened at all. Her mouth was dry, her stomach grumbled and that all too familiar ache in her head was still present. In fact, that ache was more pronounced thanks to her hunger and thirst.
After a few moments of dealing with the realities of being conscious, Rose began to collect her thoughts and try to remember just where exactly she was and what her situation might be.
She saw a strange dancing light to her left and felt something warm and solid beneath her head. Then a comforting hand ran through her hair and massaged gently at the back of her neck. She allowed herself to enjoy the sensations before she completely realized just who exactly was creating them. When she realized it was her captor, the Medjai warrior, and that he was not only touching her tenderly but that she was also lying snuggled next to him, wrapped in his robe and head on his chest, her breath froze in her lungs. She didn't move away, however, for he also had an arm around her and she could sense the power of that arm and knew instinctively she would be unable to break his hold if he pulled her back.
Instead, she remained still, her body stiff with tension and her mind attempting to shake off the fuzzy veil that still held it hostage.
"You are awake," the man stated suddenly, and Rose was shocked that he even noticed. She'd done nothing to signal her alertness other than open her eyes and tense slightly, holding her breath. How had he known?
"No thanks to you," she decided to say, remembering the events that had transpired earlier. "If that bullet had been a few inches to the left."
"But it wasn't," he interrupted to insist. "I hit what I was aiming for. I would not have shot you."
"That's reassuring," Rose drawled. Yet she still did not move to get away or stand up. She reasoned that her delay was only due to her headache and exhaustion from her ordeal. Her subconscious, on the other hand, knew it was more. Part of her was attracted to this dark warrior who hid his face and spoke of secret Egyptian history. And she was attracted to him because he was confident and bold and because he had said nothing taunting to her when she'd lost her head earlier.
The warrior's hand continued to massage her neck in an easy rhythm as he challenged, "If you do not believe me, why are you still using me for your pillow?"
Pride forced her to move. Quickly she stood up, though her body protested the effort and she swayed from the sudden movement.
In a swift move the warrior jumped to his own feet and steadied Rose with his hands upon her upper arms. She gripped his forearms tightly, fearful the cave floor would tilt and send her plummeting to her behind. His grip was solid and she was certain she couldn't fall with him holding her upright.
Taking deep breaths the spell passed and Rose nodded her head saying, "I think I'm okay now."
"Perhaps some food and water will help you," the man suggested.
Rose again nodded and watched as the warrior moved over to his saddlebag and extracted a pouch of dried fruit and a canteen of water. While he moved, Rose's eyes made contact with the sidearm holstered at his hip. An idea filled her head in that instant, an idea on how to possibly escape.
She paused in her plotting as her gaze swung to the narrow path that led out of the cavern. What would she do once she escaped and where would she go? She had to find Ali, but where? And would she really last in the Sahara with no direction and only a horse for transportation?
She sighed. Her situation certainly seemed as hopeless now as it did when she'd cried in the warrior's arms.
The warrior returned with the promised food and water and Rose mumbled a small thank you. While she satisfied her thirst and hunger she replayed the scene that had happened earlier. The warrior had proven that he was not afraid to use excessive amounts of force to keep her. Though she doubted he would hurt her, he would go to extremes to hinder her from escaping. She wondered exactly to what extremes she would go to escape him.
"When you are finished," the man spoke up, "we can leave. The storm has let up and I would like to rejoin my men before the sunrise."
"So your band of soldiers can continue looking for the bad guys of the Sahara?" Rose asked mockingly.
"This is no game, Rose," the warrior warned in a low voice. "The men looking for the Fortress of Aten are dangerous."
"If that's so, why are you making me tag along? Wouldn't it be safer for me someplace else?" she challenged.
"Why? You have already proven your ability to defend yourself and ride better than my men. I believe the safest place for you is riding at my side."
Rose couldn't help but warm at the compliment. Perhaps this man did appreciate a woman with strength. As quickly as she warmed at the compliment, she chastised herself for her reaction. Again, she had to remind herself that her mission was not to become intrigued with some masked man, but to find a way out of this mess and back to Ali. Ali was her true friend and Ali respected her. He may not be as daring as this warrior, but he was solid and trustworthy and safe-exactly what she needed in her life right now.
"I'd rather not ride anywhere with you," Rose decided to say, though the force she had hoped to punctuate her words with failed to resonate.
Suddenly those deep, dark expressive eyes the man possessed narrowed on her face and he declared boldly, "You know, you still have yet to thank me for saving you from your ex-fiancé. After all, I could have easily left you with those men." His eyes then turned the darkest shade of black and Rose wondered if it wasn't just a trick of the dancing light as he added, "Or, I could have had the lot of you killed with just one command."
For a man who had professed that he did not take the lives of innocent bystanders, he was certainly doing a good job of professing otherwise now. His words sent an eerie chill down Rose's spine and she felt her mouth involuntarily pull into a frown.
"Good, you do realize I am not a man to be trifled with," the warrior announced as he studied her expression. "I just wanted to make it clear to you that when we return to my men, you will keep your mouth shut. You will not mock me, you will not question me and you will lose every ounce of sarcasm you possess. In private, I will grant your wishes and allow your sharp tongue, but not in public. Is that understood?"
Rose mulled his words over and decided he wasn't being completely unreasonable. After all, he did have men to command and she could see how he could not have his authority questioned, especially by an American woman who knew nothing of their culture or history. And though he bore little resemblance to Ali in his attitude and demands, he didn't entirely remind her of Victor either. Victor had not only refused to allow her to question him in public, but any form of sarcasm or complaint that issued from her mouth in private received a quick reprimand either in the form of a retort or a hard slap. And as the control had grown more and more stifling during the year they had been together, Rose had made the decision to flee. Life with such tyranny had been no life worth living and Rose had thought she had escaped such control.until now. Now, she was again a captive, though not in the same sense she had been with her father and with Victor. But she was a captive none-the-less and she refused to be anyone's prisoner again.
Instead of answering the warrior's question, Rose tested her drama skills. Acting as if another wave of lightheadedness was overtaking her, she swayed and placed a hand on her head while she grimaced with pain. Reacting exactly as she suspected, the warrior reached out with both hands to steady her. His hands landed on her shoulders and she placed her hands upon his stomach. For the brief time her hands landed there, she felt the solid flex of muscles beneath her fingers. She wasn't touching him for the pleasure, however, and without lingering there, she quickly slid her hand to his side and grabbed the Glock handgun from its holster. ****
There was an opening hidden well in the rock wall, but Herman saw it just the same. He doubted it was the Fortress of Aten for they had seen several cave openings like this one before and none had proven to belong to the fortress.
He had heard that the Fortress of Aten was hidden in a small, narrow ravine, barely accessible by horse and rider and that its entrance was marked by a tall, columned façade literally carved into the face of the canyon wall. But that was just myth and no one in centuries had laid eyes upon the fortress. So it could very well be the fortress was simply hidden away in a cave and to be safe, it meant searching anything and everything that could be a possible location. And this cave was no different.
When they entered the cave and found two bridled horses waiting patiently, however, Herman's heart leapt. This meant something was here in this cave.
"Omar, station yourself out here in case something happens," Herman ordered to one of the mercenaries. "Fadi, with me. And be ready. Both of you."
They nodded and Fadi unslung his MP-5 assault rifle while Omar unholstered his handgun and moved to a position outside the cave. When the large anteroom of the cave narrowed into a dark path in the rock, Herman's pulse quickened. Could this be the fortress they had been searching for these past few months? Could it be that this narrow path opened into the temple they were seeking? He began to replay all that Jean Danton had told them about loose translations of ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics and inaccurate historic recordings about the fortress's description and location and he grew more and more certain this cave could be the best shot they'd had yet. And then he heard voices.
****
Ali should have known better than to underestimate Rose for the umpteenth time. Each time he allowed his guard to slip around her, she pulled a new trick out of her bag. Now, she was holding him at gunpoint with his own gun!
Yet his concern for her well being certainly overrode any logical and tactical thoughts that his brain produced. So when she had looked about ready to faint, he'd of course rushed to her rescue.
"Like I said," she spoke up as she stepped back out of his reach, the barrel of his Glock pointed right at his chest, "I'd rather not ride anywhere with you. And you just declared that you'd grant my wishes in private. I wish to be rid of you and on my way to my friend's village."
Ali should have been ecstatic that she was working so diligently to escape the "warrior" him and find her way back to the "friend" him. But it was difficult to be ecstatic about anything when the barrel of a loaded gun was aimed dead center at his chest.
With a sigh, Ali finally decided it was time to drop the charade. He had not wanted to reveal himself to her like this. He had wanted to have her at home where he could sit down and calmly explain about his history and duty. This gun, however, was going to change his plans.
"Rose," he said seriously and was just about to pull down his veil when his ears picked up the faint scuff of footsteps to his right. ****
There was a change in the warrior's voice when he said her name. His accent seemed to slip away, and if she didn't know better, she would have sworn it was Ali standing in front of her saying her name. But it wasn't Ali, it was an incorrigible desert leader who had her mistaken for some picture on a wall and though he was staring down the barrel of a loaded gun, his eyes showed no fear.
She had to respect him for that. A brave man was hard to come by in this modern age. Most would be begging and pleading with her to let them go or groveling like a child, shaking and crying. This man, however, hinted at no weak emotions and his brown eyes actually conveyed a hint of frustration and irritation with her.
She wasn't sure what she would do if he called her bluff. And from the expression in his eyes, it was quite possible he would do just that. If he started toward her bravely and decided to take the gun back, Rose would have no option left for escape, for she knew in her heart she could not shoot him. She liked him too much to kill him and besides, it certainly was not in her personality to shoot anyone. Sure, she was skilled with a weapon for her father had taught her to shoot and handle herself at a young age. But she was abhorred to violence and wanted no part of it, even now. She would fight for her life, but her life was not in danger with this man. She merely wanted to leave his presence and find Ali. Nothing more, nothing less.
Her plans and wants, though, were about ready to change. When a Caucasian man dressed in khaki cargo pants and a dark T-shirt entered the cave with an automatic weapon in hand, Rose had the sinking feeling that her situation had just compounded tenfold.
"Well, well," the man spoke in English with a slight European sounding accent. "What have we here?"
Neither Rose nor the warrior said a word and Rose quickly lowered the handgun to her side, hoping it was well hidden from their unexpected company. Her gut instinct was screaming that this man was not her savior and that she was better off with the warrior.
The man stepped further into the room, his weapon trained on the warrior and another man dressed similarly and also armed followed behind him.
The second man, an Egyptian, seemed to hesitate as his eyes landed on the warrior and he uttered one simple word, "Medjai." He seemed to gasp the word as if he was shocked to see a Medjai warrior and he hesitated, nearly dropping his gun in the process.
"Medjai, huh?" the European repeated. "So, they really do exist. Must mean we're getting close to the fortress, Fadi."
The fortress? The Fortress of Aten? Rose studied these men and replayed their words and she was certain this situation was really, really bad.
"Do you know where the Fortress of Aten is, Medjai?" the European man asked as he neared the warrior, the barrel of his automatic weapon only inches from the warrior's chest.
The warrior didn't answer. He merely stood in his place, his eyes trained on this new aggressor and showing no sign of his thoughts or intentions.
"What? You don't speak English?" the European taunted. The man then swung his eyes Rose's way and she saw only trouble in their pale depths. "Do you speak English, lady?"
From the corner of her eye she watched as the warrior's hand crept toward his belt where a sheathed knife was barely visible. As if she could read the Medjai warrior's mind, Rose knew exactly what he was going to do. If she could keep the European's attention long enough, perhaps the warrior could disarm the men.
"Maybe," Rose finally answered. "That depends on what you need to know."
"Does he speak English?" the European asked as he nodded in the direction of the warrior.
Rose allowed her eyes to wander over to the Egyptian before answering. He was still staring awe-struck at the warrior and Rose realized he would be easy to disarm for his attention was not entirely on the situation at hand.
"Well, does he?" the man then demanded when she failed to answer.
Slowly sliding her hand holding the gun further behind her thigh, Rose shook her head and said, "No. I've been trying to communicate with him since he kidnapped me. Thank goodness you showed up when you did." Bravely she moved forward, hoping she sounded and looked like a hostage.
The European apparently bought her act, for he failed to halt her approach with a threat or a word.
"I've been his captive for two days now," Rose continued.
If the warrior thought she was turning against him, he didn't show it, for his hand was still sliding toward his knife and his eyes never left his prey.
"Really?" the man asked. "What did you do to deserve such." he paused and glanced around the dimly lit cave, ".accommodations?" he finished.
Moving slightly to her right, trying to place the European between her and the armed Egyptian, Rose fibbed, "I was with a group on an expedition of sorts. An archeological dig from an American university. Apparently we were camped too close to sacred ruins or something, because suddenly, the Medjai attacked and killed nearly everyone in my group. I was taken hostage. I still don't know why."
The European was a tall, well-built man in his early forties. He could have been handsome if his intentions weren't so obviously menacing. And from that cool, evil look in his eyes, it was obvious that what the warrior had told her about the Fortress of Aten and the group seeking it out was a reality.
"I know why," the European stated. "A beauty like you could catch a fine price in certain countries."
Rose wanted to physically gag as the man issued those words and then reached out and placed a finger on the bump on her head.
"Ouch, looks like someone tried to damage that fine face," he then said, stupidly turning his back on the warrior.
In that instant, Rose watched as the warrior drew his knife and hurled it at the Egyptian blocking the exit. The knife stuck with a thud in the man's chest, and his hand jerked up involuntarily, taking his weapon with him and a loud burst of gunfire rapidly shot from the barrel of his gun as he fell.
Rose jumped at the unexpected firing, as did the European, but the man regained his composure before the Medjai warrior could disarm him and spun swiftly, aiming his MP5 again at the warrior's chest.
"Stop right there, Medjai," the man growled. "Just in case you can understand me, I want you to know this before you die. I thoroughly enjoyed killing your leader when we found him in Cairo. That Staff of the Sun relic is one handy object. It led us right to him. And now, I'm going to thoroughly enjoy killing you and taking your lady too."
Rose could see the man's finger tightening on the trigger and again saw no fear in the eyes of the Medjai, only anger. Reacting quickly, for she knew she was safer with the Medjai than with this terrorist, Rose pulled the Glock out from behind her leg and placed it on the back of the man's neck.
"Do it, and die," she warned.
The man froze and the warrior immediately reached for the rifle. As the Medjai began to pull the gun away, the European swung an elbow back, connecting with Rose's shoulder. The blow caused her to lose her grip on the Glock and the handgun went tumbling to the cave floor.
She and the European dove for the gun at the same time and it became trapped beneath her body. The European was on top of her and with his massive weight, she was unable to pull the gun out from underneath her.
She watched as his hand reached out and grabbed one of the nearby swords that had been left on the cave floor since their arrival. His hand just barely closed over the handle when the Medjai's foot connected with the man's stomach and sent him rolling off of Rose. The blow seemed to phase the large man little, and he was just springing to his feet, wielding the sword in front of him when the Medjai moved in again.
Quickly, Rose crawled away, taking the gun with her and finding the fallen MP5 on the ground not three feet away. She picked it up too and aimed her Glock at the fighting men but she had neither the nerve, nor a clean shot. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw the fallen Egyptian push to a seated position against the wall and lift his weapon with the little strength he obviously had left and aim it at the warrior's back.
"No!" Rose screamed and without thinking, only reacting on instinct, she fired the Glock at the Egyptian and hit her mark. The man slumped down and the gun fell from his limp fingers.
She knew she'd be sick later, but for now, her life was at stake and she had no time to analyze the action she had just been forced to take.
The shot from her gun distracted the European long enough for the warrior to land a clean blow to the man's face. The sword nearly tumbled from his hand, but he managed to hang onto it and swing it toward the Medjai again. Agilely, the warrior jumped sideways and dodged the blade. When the man swung past him, the warrior threw a knee to the man's gut.
Rose was certain the two blows the warrior had landed would be enough to topple the man, but the European did not falter as he swept the warrior's legs out from under him, then raised the sword high above his head for a strike.
The warrior too was strong and swift and as the man's torso came down with the swing of the sword, the warrior raised his feet, kicked out and sent the man stumbling backwards a good ten feet. With a push from his hands, the warrior was suddenly back on his feet.
The European, however, had recovered and he was charging the warrior. Again, reacting on instinct, Rose yelled, "Medjai! Here!" and tossed the Glock to the warrior. She closed her eyes when she heard the shot and knew exactly what had happened.
****
It seemed an eternity before the echo of gunfire quieted in the cave chamber. A plume of white-blue smoke hung in the air along with the harsh smell of cordite. At Ali's feet laid the European man who was no doubt a member of the group searching for the Fortress of Aten and the man who had assassinated his father.
Three men he was now responsible for slaying himself in the past week and two more were dead because of his orders or actions. The body count was piling up and he was positive it would grow considerably higher before his tasks were complete. If this incident was any precursor of what was to come, he knew the group looking for the fortress would fight to the death. He and his men had better be prepared.
Ali took no pride in the fact that he had killed. It was nothing he relished and nothing he looked forward to doing. In these more modern times, the death toll seemed to stay moderately low. When his father had ruled during the time of the two world wars, when North Africa was a hotbed of rival armies and greedy explorers, the death toll exacted by the Medjai had been enormous. He realized his grandfather, Ardeth Bay, had more than likely been forced to take ten times the number of lives that Ali would ever have to take. And as Ali stared at the body at his feet, he wondered for the first time if he had the same fortitude to lead and survive that Ardeth had possessed.
His grandfather's name was on the wall to his right. Ardeth had been considered one of the greatest leaders of the Medjai for he had not only saved the ancient sites from the destruction of armies in two great wars, but also defeated the creature Imhotep twice and the Army of Anubis.
Ali still remembered the tales his grandfather had told him when he was a young boy. It had seemed like pure fiction when he was a child, but now that he was facing the dangers head on, he realized there was nothing fictional involved. It was all dangerously real and the proof was lying at his feet.
He reached out and touched his grandfather's and father's names on the cave wall, said a silent prayer that he had the strength to endure, then turned to look at Rose.
She was huddled on the floor, her knees drawn tightly against her chest, her head down and eyes closed. An automatic rifle lay at her feet. It was obvious she had been pushed as far as her endurance could take her and Ali wondered if bringing her here to Egypt had been the best course of action.
Victor's face flashed in his mind at that thought, and Ali was certain in that instant that her chances here with him were greater than they would have been had he left her to Victor and her father in America.
Striding across the cave to Rose, Ali knelt down behind her and pulled down his veil. After what had just happened, he knew he had to reveal himself to her. It was only fair she realize the truth.
He placed his hands upon her shoulders and could feel her body shake beneath his touch. He was positive it was not his touch that was causing her reaction. No, it was more than likely the ordeal she had been forced to endure for the past week.
"You saved my life," he whispered lowly from behind. "I thank you."
Her hands moved to her face and she covered her eyes with them.
"I figured I was safer with you than with them," she mumbled. "After all, you only want to marry me. Who knows what they would have done with me."
Ali wished she would turn to look at him. His nerve was evading him and his instinct was to replace the covering over his face and resume his charade.
"I feel I want to marry you even more now," he announced with a light tone. "You are brave. The perfect wife for a Medjai warrior."
His hand landed in her hair and he smoothed it with care. She did not flinch, nor did she turn to look at him. She remained sitting on the floor, her face hidden from him with her hands.
"I don't think I could survive being married to you," she said sadly. "Its too dangerous."
"At times," he agreed.
Ali moved his hand to lightly massage her neck. He needed to touch her now not only for her peace of mind, but also for his own. When those men had held them at gunpoint, his life had flashed before his eyes and he had been disappointed that his life had barely included Rose. Now that the danger had passed, he needed to be close to Rose, needed to secure his relationship with her. The friendship they had fostered was dear to his heart, but he no longer wanted her as just a friend. He was attracted to her and always had been and touching her now was so incredibly reassuring.
"But you have proven your strength, Rose," he continued as he lowered his lips to her hair. He kissed the top of her head. "You will be celebrated in my tribe for your courage."
She chuckled, but it was a sad, weary laugh.
"I'm not courageous," she declared. "I've just shot a man, I feel sick to my stomach and I can't stop shaking. And I just want to be reunited with my friend. I miss him so much."
"This friend you have been speaking of..do you love him?" Ali asked, anxious to know her feelings ever since he had revealed his own to her in Cairo.
Rose removed her hands from her face and lowered her head to her knees. Ali could see her eyes were still closed and he was glad, for he wanted to hear her answer before she saw him.
"I.don't know," she confessed. "For so long I'd convinced myself that we were just friends, and then all this happens..I just haven't had time to analyze my feelings."
Ali would take that answer for now, for it was logical. Of course, he had hoped for more of a true declaration.
"And me?" he then asked. "Could you love a man like me?"
Again Rose chuckled and she shook her head.
"Your timing really needs some work," she quipped. "But if you must know now, all I can say is that I don't know. I admire your bravery, but I don't even know what you look like."
Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Ali moved his lips to her ear and whispered, "Then turn and look upon my face, my love. Kiss me and tell me what you feel."
He felt Rose's body halt its shaking in that instant and her back stiffened with tension. Then ever so slowly she raised her head, wiped at her eyes and began to turn. Before her eyes could befall his face, a cold gust of wind blew through the cavern in a hard burst. The torch flame flickered out and they were encased in complete darkness.
Ali didn't recognize the sign at first, for he was too intent on kissing Rose. She didn't falter at the darkness and willingly turned into his arms. She placed a hand upon his cheek and remarked, "So much for seeing your face. But I will kiss you just this once at least to thank you for fighting to saving my life too."
Her arms reached up and looped around his neck and her lips willingly met his. Unlike the previous kisses they'd shared, this one was not forced, nor was it short and sweet. They kissed like lovers, their mouths hungry for something stable and warm after their ordeal with the gunmen. It was a joining that affirmed life and after several moments, it developed into a joining of passion.
Ali was the first to pull away. Reluctantly, he pulled his head back as a groan was building in his throat. Now he wanted to do more than simply kiss her. His desire was aflame but the cold wind that had dosed their light was once more circling the chamber.
"What is that?" Rose asked quietly.
Ali touched her lips with one short, breathtaking kiss and she did not protest. Then he released her and replaced his veil. The wind was a sign, and he was only now reading it.
"Come, we must leave. More danger awaits us," he said seriously.
The wind had extinguished their torch right on cue. If Rose had seen his face, she would have been angry. He knew her well enough to predict that. And her anger would have more than likely caused her to run. But running could not be permitted because Ali was now certain that more members of the terrorist group were nearby.
"Danger? What?" Rose shot out.
Finding the saddlebag on the floor, Ali extracted the small flashlight, replaced the Glock in his holster and reached for his over-robe.
"The wind, it was a sign, Rose. There are more men nearby. We must leave before." Ali's words trailed off as he heard the horses nicker with impatience. Someone had already arrived.
"Quickly, gather the other weapons," he instructed and he belted on his two swords and picked up one of the discarded MP5s.
Rose didn't hesitate, nor did she argue. She pulled the MP5 from the dead Egyptian's hand and then bravely wiggled the knife from his chest. She handed the knife to Ali and slung the MP5 over her shoulder, keeping it at the ready.
He looked down at her with some amusement when she stood boldly next to him with the rifle and as if reading his expression, she said, "I may not like violence, but I don't have much of a choice right now, do I?"
"Yes, you will make a very good wife," Ali drawled one last time before the footsteps of the approaching man reached them in the cavern.
This time, they held the element of surprise, and when the man stepped into the cavern and was blinded by the beam of the flashlight, he reacted by dropping his weapon. Quickly, he turned and ran back through the rocky path and Ali followed right behind him.
They broke through into the gray light of dawn and when Ali reached the man, he heard the last bit of a one-sided conversation the man was hurriedly relaying over a hand-held radio.
"Medjai," the man was shouting into the radio. "I fear Herman and Fadi are dead! We are in the west ravine."
The man's speech halted when he spun around and saw Ali in front of him, wielding a sword. He visibly shook and Ali took much pride in the fact that even in this modern day, a Medjai warrior cloaked in black with their traditional scimitar could still evoke such fear in a man.
"Be sure to tell them the Medjai will come for the rest very soon," Ali growled.
The man's eyes grew large and he appeared to be frozen to his spot.
"Please." the man begged.
Ali placed the tip of his sword against the man's shoulder and said, "I am going to spare your life so that you may warn the others in your group. Give up the search for the Fortress of Aten, or die. It is your choice."
To punctuate his threat, Ali pressed the tip of his sword into the man's shoulder until he drew blood. When the man protested with a shout of pain, Ali then swung his fist and hit the man in the face, rendering him unconscious. His deed done, Ali turned to find Rose waiting by with the horses.
"Come," he announced as he grabbed the satellite phone from the saddlebag and took the saddled horse. "We must meet up with my men."
Without issuing a word, Rose swung up onto the bare back of the horse she had originally stolen, and waited for Ali to mount. As soon as he did, they raced out of the canyon, to find his men. ****
Oscar Mann was deep in the shadows of the eastern ravine when the call came through on the radio from Omar. He attempted to reply, but received no further response and he assumed that meant Omar had met with a horrible fate as well. He cursed under his breath and the mercenary regarded him with wonder.
"It's the Medjai, Omar says they attacked. He thinks Herman and Fadi are dead," Oscar explained. "Come on, let's get over to the western ravine."
Just as they were turning in the opposite direction to try and find their associates, another call came through on the radio. It was from Jean, the historian, and he at least had some good news.
"Monsieur Mann, your pilot just phoned in. He's finally on his way," Jean relayed.
"At least that's something," Oscar returned. To his man he said, "We need to hurry." His satellite phone was unable to reach his men for the battery was too low for a proper signal. Ali stifled a curse growing in his throat and simply urged his horse on to even more speed. Rose, riding right next to him, did the same and he was surprised she didn't once veer away or attempt another escape. She seemed content to ride with him and he assumed she had felt they had bonded with the ordeal in the cave.
****
Ali, however, wasn't going to inquire of her if that was the case. He figured it best to say nothing and merely ride, enjoying the fact that for the first time in two days, Rose wasn't fighting him.
They rode up a dune and as they crested the mound of sand, a group of dark riders were visible in the distance. His men were coming to look for them and Ali was glad for it would save them much valuable time.
He pulled up his horse and Rose did the same. As the Arabians danced from foot to foot, eager to continue their run, Ali pointed to the distance and announced, "My men are on their way."
"So what are you going to do?" Rose inquired. "Take your warriors and go back to the canyon, looking for the rest of those men?"
"Yes, that is what we are going to do," Ali answered.
"And me? Please don't tell me you're going to make me go back there," Rose said in more of a plea than a question. The underlying desperation in her tone was difficult to miss.
Ali sighed, then made the only logical decision in regards to Rose.
"No, I will not make you remain with me," he said. "I will send you and your friend on your way. The village you seek is only a few hours by horse to the north."
Rose gaped at him. "You're releasing me that easily?"
"I never said I was releasing you. I said I was sending you on your way. You will see me again. I guarantee you of that."
Then he reached under his robe and unclasped the necklace he wore. It was the symbol of his position and had been passed down from chief to chief. He had just recently claimed it, and he was giving it to Rose to signify to his tribe her importance to him.
"Take this," he said, handing her the leather strand that held the gold rectangular charm. Ancient symbols were carved on the one-inch charm that represented honor and strength. "I will come for it when my duties are fulfilled."
"And when you come back for it," Rose questioned, "will you claim me too?"
Ali heard the sarcasm and ignored it. Instead, he answered, "I will not claim you. But you will have to chose your fate."
"My fate? You mean, marry you or suffer the consequences?" she spat out.
"No. I would never allow harm to befall you. Surely you must have figured that out by now," he returned.
He watched as Rose's face changed from defiant to humble. Then she glanced into the distance, watched his men for a brief moment then turned back to him.
"You said in private, I could have my wishes," she began.
"I did," he agreed. "Any wish within my means."
Rose reached up and clasped the golden charm around her neck and said, "I'll wear this and I'll consider your offer if you promise to do one thing for me."
"What?"
"Find my brother, Tony. I've been worried sick about him since you left him in the desert. I can't bear the thought of something happening to him out here."
Ali hesitated, then asked, "And what of Victor? Shall I find him for you too?"
"You can kill Victor for all I care. I just want to see my brother again."
"Then I will try to do as you wish. After we are through with the group searching for the fortress, I will seek out your brother. Meanwhile, return to the village and find your friend, Ali. I feel you have unfinished business with him."
He left her with those cryptic words, then urged his horse down the dune and met his men halfway. They bowed with respect and Devraj rode to his side, Yasmeen on the horse behind him.
"You are well, my lord?" he inquired of Ali in their native tongue.
Ali answered that he was and then watched as Yasmeen's inquisitive eyes landed on Rose.
"You unbound her," Yasmeen replied in Arabic. "Does that mean she knows your identity?"
"No, but we have reached an understanding," Ali answered. "Please, take her to the village, Yasmeen, and speak of nothing of our secrets."
"As you wish," Yasmeen said, as she slid off the back of Devraj's horse then took a pack from another rider. She walked over to Rose's horse and handed the bag up to Rose.
"Your things," she said. "I was able to get them from the Jeep when we were first." she paused and glanced back at Ali and finished, ".captured."
"Thanks," Rose said.
"Please dismount and we will acquire a new horse for this one belongs to the Medjai chieftain," Yasmeen explained and held out a hand to assist Rose down.
Rose dismounted the magnificent stallion and slung her bag over her shoulder. Ali dismounted the horse he'd been riding and handed it off to Yasmeen.
"Travel safely," Ali instructed, then assisted Rose and Yasmeen onto the back of their horse.
Rose looked at him with a strange mix of wonder and respect and Yasmeen merely glared at him. Then Yasmeen kicked the horse into a gallop and the women were gone.
"The men we seek are near!" Ali called to his men as a warrior saddled his horse and he swung onto Raja's back.
Devraj looked at the women disappearing into the distance then back at his leader. "She wore your necklace," he observed. "Yasmeen will not be pleased when she discovers that."
"I do not care what Yasmeen thinks," Ali returned.
"No, but you may care what her father thinks," Devraj relayed. "He has it in his head that you and she will marry."
"That cannot happen," Ali declared, "for it is Rose's face that is depicted in the Cave of Prophecies. She is to be my wife."
Devraj regarded his leader for a long moment with only a slight hint of surprise. His loyal friend was good at disguising his emotions.
"If that is so, do you think sending her off with Yasmeen was the best course of action?" Devraj asked with humor.
"Yasmeen is cunning, but I had little choice."
"Perhaps you are right. Then let us hope that Yasmeen does not taint your bride against you while we are gone."
Ali chuckled for a brief moment and said, "Yes, let us hope not."
All humor, however, quickly left when he saw the helicopter closing in and flying toward the canyon to the east. Ali had a feeling they were going to lose their prey. ****