Favoured Friends

Part 14/?

Summary: An invitation to the National Egyptology Conference quickly becomes deadly race for the mythic Ichriem against an old rival of Sydney's - the assassin known only as 'the Viper'.

Note: This is a round robin originally posted at the Relic Hunter Yahoo Group. Although I'm posting it, I did not write the entire thing. This part was written by Cari Loran ( carilorus@yahoo.com )

Also, I have Support Services. That means that, if you want, you can put me on Author Alert and receive notice when other stories of mine are posted, even if you haven't paid yourself.

Posted: Friday, September 13, 2002

Sydney stared at Derek Lloyd in momentary disbelief, suddenly having the odd feeling she'd stumbled into the Twilight Zone. "Twelve million dollars?" she echoed, turning the number over in her mind. When she spoke again, her voice was distracted and distant. "I had no idea."

Money always held little fascination for Sydney... it was nice to have because of the freedom it allowed, but she'd never entertained ideas of hoarding it like a crotchety Victorian miser.

She was practical, she deposited regularly into her savings account, invested in certificates of deposit and rare coins, and even dabbled a little in the stock market. She'd built herself a nice little nest egg, if she did say so herself.

But Nigel... She had to admit, she'd never considered his financial situation. The idea he was anything more than middle-class had just never occurred to her. Yet now, thinking about it, she realized all the clues had been there.

She knew Nigel had gone to boarding school, then on to Oxford, neither of which were cheap. He had then moved to America for his graduate work, but unlike most international students, Nigel had no roommate to help with expenses and lived alone in a fully furnished apartment. And after seeing his family home in England...

Sydney looked back to Derek. "How did you find out about this?"

"I did some checking as soon as he was reported missing." He shook his head. "I was as surprised as you are." He reached under the seat for his briefcase. "Most of the information is a matter of public record. The car accident that killed his parents was no secret... it made the front page of the newspaper." He popped the lock on the briefcase and withdrew a folder. "See for yourself."

Sydney accepted the folder and curiously flipped it open. Inside lay photocopies of what appeared to be the front pages of three different newspapers. The headline on the first sheet jumped out at her: 'Drunk Driver Claims Two Lives'. She flipped forward and read the next two: 'Dr. Preston Bailey III Killed in Accident' and 'Local Couple Killed in Fatal Crash'.

As she glanced at the papers, Sydney couldn't help but feel she was invading Nigel's privacy. The young man had never mentioned his parents aside from the time Claudia began barraging him with questions about what he would be doing over Christmas vacation... if he would be going to see his family. Nigel softly admitted they had died, and Claudia immediately looked like she wanted to sink through the floor in shame. The secretary had apologized profusely, but Nigel waved her off, telling her not to worry about it, and clearly not wanting to discuss the subject.

She flipped back to the first article, quickly glancing through the contents and learning several things she hadn't know. Apparently Nigel's father had been a professor of archeology at Cambridge and also head of their antiquities department. His wife, Nigel's mother, Adeline had also worked at Cambridge, but as professor of English literature. The article praised them both to no end, expounding on how popular they'd been with students and the community at large.

As the paper described it, the couple had been on their way home from a benefit concert... evidently being well-known local philanthropists. The night had been damp and foggy like many in England, and traffic moved along at a steady but cautious pace.

Then everything changed in an instant.

A drunk driver careened recklessly in the lane of on-coming traffic, being closely pursued by two police cars in a high-speed chase. The drunk lost control, plunging into the opposite lane of traffic at over 128 km/h... which Sydney mentally translated to about 80 miles per hour. The Bailey's car had been right in his path, taking the full force of the collision. The coroner believed their deaths had been instantaneous. The drunk driver had also been killed at impact.

Sydney finished the articles and closed the folder, taking a deep breath and blinking back unshed tears. It had been a senseless tragedy caused by a single senseless person. It was no wonder now why Nigel never talked about it.

Regaining control, Sydney passed the file back to Derek, who had a surprisingly sympathetic look on his face. "I know," he nodded to her unspoken thoughts. "It was a stupid waste," he commented, stuffing the file back in his briefcase.

Sydney caught something in his tone and watched him as he crammed the briefcase back under the seat. A muscle in his jaw twitched and she suddenly had the feeling Nigel wasn't immediately alone in losing someone to a drunk driver.

"Yes it was," she agreed. Derek didn't seem to be in the mood to explain his reaction, and Sydney wasn't going to pry. "All right," she moved back to the topic at hand, "so you think The Viper might have seen these articles and decided to kidnap Nigel for a ransom? It seems kind of farfetched. Why didn't he do it years ago then?"

Derek shook his head. "Because he couldn't have gotten anything. Remember the money was locked in trusts. Nigel still won't be able to claim his part for several years, but on April 5th of this year, his brother turned thirty."

Sydney closed her eyes briefly. "And got his part of the inheritance," she finished. Realization dawned like a bitter sunrise. "How much was it?"

"About 11 million dollars."

*Eleven million dollars* Sydney considered the figure then swore, hoping none of the other first class passengers were eavesdropping. "So he'll send Preston a ransom note, probably demanding his whole inheritance for Nigel's return."

"Most likely." Derek agreed. "If his brother hasn't heard anything yet, he will soon. It's just as well this plane goes to London, I think we should pay him a visit when we land." He looked at his flying companion and noticed a puzzled, thoughtful expression on her face. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking this doesn't make any sense." She shook her head. "If he was after Nigel all along, why did he attack me at the hotel and want information about Ichriem? It's a very obscure legend, hardly anyone knows about it. And Nigel..." she paused remembering his reaction at the hospital when she'd told him about the attack. "He didn't seem very surprised when I mentioned Ichriem at the hospital... I think he was about to ask me something about it before the nurse interrupted us. How did he know?"

Derek seemed to contemplate the question. "I think I know."

"You do?"

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slip of paper. "This was found near the bed in Nigel's hotel room." He passed the note to Sydney. "I originally thought The Viper or maybe Blount had dropped it," he shook his head. "But leaving behind clues isn't The Viper's style, he's been in business too long to be suddenly get sloppy." He paused while Sydney unfolded the note. "The only thing that really makes any sense is if Nigel dropped it."

Sydney frowned as she read the note. "Ichriem is found. MT 10:30-BMR." She turned the paper around and studied the back, then flipped it back and stared at the letters again. "This isn't Nigel's handwriting... it looks like it was done by a woman." She looked curiously at Derek Lloyd, noticing his blue eyes watching her expectantly... he obviously hoped she could explain it.

"Well?" he prompted.

"MT 10:30 BMR..." she muttered. It didn't ring any bells, but it had to mean something. BMR? Initials maybe. But she couldn't think of anyone they might belong to. Maybe it meant a building, a town, a business. The whole situation grew more frustrating by the moment. "I don't know, but I think I know what he's up to." She looked Derek in the eye. "He wants the best of both worlds."

"Okay, I'll bite." Derek encouraged her.

"The Viper is after Ichriem," she emphasized, entirely certain of the fact. "I think someone hired him to find it. In his eyes, this must be a win-win situation. If he brings in Ichriem for his client, he'll be paid... and I'm guessing he doesn't offer himself out cheap. Kidnapping Nigel must have just been an added bonus for him, and," she tacked on guiltily, "a way to get back at me."

"It makes sense." Derek agreed after a moment of thought. He liked the idea. His first approach had been to look towards the biggest source of money, which had been Nigel. He didn't know what an Ichriem was, but he doubted it was worth 11 million dollars. Of course, with ancient artifacts, one never knew. "Hey," he reached over and clasped her hand in his. "This isn't your fault. You didn't start this... you didn't make The Viper what he is. He's been a sorry SOB for fifty years."

Sydney looked down at his hand, then up to his eyes. When he was in 'spy mode', his expression was unreadable, a poker face that would scare Clint Eastwood right out of a western. But now, when he was being himself, it was hard not to pick up his sincerity. She could help but smile at him. "A sorry SOB?" she repeated, arching her eyebrow.

"Techincal term," Derek quirked a smile. He withdrew his hand from hers, noting her rather pale complexion. "You should try to get some sleep, there's still several hours until we land. I've got a feeling that snake poison hasn't worn off yet."

"No," Sydney leaned back. "It hasn't." Her doctor had protested long and hard about her departure, but short of tying her up, he couldn't force her to stay. Truth be told, she was exhausted and ached all over in places she hadn't even know she had. She'd wrangled some painkillers from the argumentative doctor before leaving the hospital... now would probably be a good time to take one and try to catch a nap.

Once they landed in London, she had a feeling it would be a long time until she could relax again.

End Part Fourteen