Favoured Friends
Part 43/51

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 LeiLani ( dawnleilani@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: Sunday, October 5, 2003

From her vantage in the back of the truck, Sydney watched Campbell's body roll across the desert floor. A chill ran through her spine as he rose, staggering, his shouted obscenities fading into the distance. She knew that this was by no means over, and it would not end until Ichriem was found and settled safely in a museum.

She'd overheard every detail of the exchange in the cab. Nigel's bravado saved them, but it could just as easily have gotten him killed. That thought loomed in her consciousness, threatening to overwhelm her. She was frightened and horrified at Derek Lloyd's condition, and she'd have grieved him had he died. It occurred to her that had Nigel been killed, grieving would only be a part of it. In the back of her mind, she knew that if she lost her assistant, she would be hard-pressed to go on in any capacity. There was no doubt whatsoever that she would take a permanent retirement from relic hunting. If Nigel died, her joy would exit with him.

"Good God, Abraham, what took you so long?" There was as much anger in Lloyd's voice as there was exasperation.

Abraham?

Sydney knew even before the driver spoke.

"Well, Lloyd, I couldn't exactly tip our hand this early. Besides, the boy does a pretty good hero act. You know, if we ever get things hammered out with the Brits, the kid might come in handy." Gone was the middle-eastern accent. Abraham's current drawl sounded more at home in New Orleans than in the Sahara Desert. "We got the Viper, didn't we? We'll get this Campbell kid, too."

"Holy shit..." Sydney snapped her mouth closed until she brought her temper under control. She slumped against the metal frame, willing herself to breathe normally again.

Nigel didn't pretend any such indifference. Much to her amazement, her colleague wrenched the wheel from their driver, slamming his foot on the brake. They skidded to an abrupt stop, and before anyone could react further, the little Englishman balled up his fist and slammed it against Abraham's jaw. "You're next, Lloyd!" Nigel spat through the open rear window. "I could understand you not coming to my rescue, but how dare you expose Sydney to this kind of danger! You ought to be horse whipped. I might even campaign for the reintroduction of capital punishment for your part in this!" As was often the case, Nigel's voice rose half an octave, a dead giveaway of the level of his fury.

Sydney bit her lip, warmed by her companion's devotion, though it was misplaced. It wasn't like she was incapable of fending for herself! "Nigel, they really couldn't do anything else. He had a gun on you."

"Don't defend him, Syd. Lloyd uses you like a tool, borrowing you to help tighten a screw on someone, or to lead him to something he needs. He doesn't care about you! All he wants is to get his man, and he doesn't care who gets hurt along the way! He doesn't love you, Sydney, not like - "

There was a shout from the distance and suddenly Abraham pushed Nigel aside. The truck roared back to life, fishtailing in the dirt, throwing up a cloud of dust that didn't quite obscure the footbound army swarming around them. Within a fraction of a second, the garrison opened fire. Sydney heard the sickening ping of bullets striking the metal frame, and the whistles of still more that came much too close to her ears.

"What the hell?" she shouted, struggling to remain upright as they flew over the rough road. "What was that about???"

"That was about Ichriem, my dear," Abraham called over his shoulder. "The Viper and Campbell were only two people, but this is a much more concerted effort."

The chill returned to Sydney. "The Gural Nataz..."

"Yes," Lloyd responded. He'd been silent for most of the ride, and Sydney was again reminded of the extent of his injuries. "The Gural Nataz is much more extensive than you know, Sydney. They've become an international cartel that's expanded beyond the smuggling of priceless antiquities. They've become a modern-day mafia, a syndicate with their fingers in all sorts of criminal pies. They organize hits and money laundering, orchestrate terrorist acts for the profit they can make from them, manage a huge illicit drug network. There's more at stake here than Ichriem, and yet Ichriem is key for them. It's more than just an artifact, Sydney. We were hoping you could tell us why."

The guerrillas fell into the distance, but the truck was not going to go much further. While they still moved, the engine was sputtering and they swerved wildly. For a heart-stopping moment the vehicle tilted onto two wheels, but Abraham managed to right it and they skidded into a hidden hollow. There beneath the rise, a cinderblock building rose from the sandy earth, its bland modern lines a jarring contrast to the otherwise unsullied wilderness. Well, nearly unsullied… A few yards beyond the building stood a camouflage-painted military helicopter, its huge blades whirring in silent readiness.

"Your chariot, Sydney," Lloyd grunted. "A non-stop flight to Mer de Tueur. There's already a dig underway, but time's running out. If the Gural Nataz gets there first, we may not be able to stop them."

With that bit of information under her belt, Sydney clambered out of the truck and yanked on Nigel's door. For a fraction of a second, she let herself wonder what Nigel meant to say before he was cut off. Speculation raised her pulse to a staccato beat, but got her nowhere. She reached up and pulled her partner from the truck, enveloping him in a hug. "You and I have to talk," she whispered into his ear. "But we have to find Ichriem first and figure out what's going on."

Was it her imagination, or did Nigel look startled?

"I – I think I know," he stammered. "And if I'm right, we'd better hurry. Ichriem is more than just a statue. I was studying what history says about it, and if I'm right, it's not solid gold. If I'm correct, its center is pure crystal, possibly flawless quartz."

They moved in synchronous step, climbing into the fuselage of the aircraft. Any thoughts of their other companions effectively fell away as the implications of Nigel's words sunk in. "Crystal?" she breathed. "Why crystal? Why not solid gold?"

"Crystal has its own properties. It's got the ability to regulate and magnify electrical current." Nigel's voice was somber. "What if that's not all it can magnify? The ancient texts suggest that when the correct two people touch this statue..." He raised his eyes to meet hers. "Sydney... aren't brain waves basically electrical?"

"And if two people were to have brain waves sufficiently similar..." The implications hit her with the power of a sledgehammer. "Oh my God..."

End Part Forty-Three