Gabriel Hunt - Hunt Through Napoleon's Web

“You are insolent,” the masked man said, advancing toward him. “Amun told me it was so.”

“Good,” Gabriel said. “That’ll save us some time.”

The man leveled the end of his scepter in Gabriel’s direction. “We agree: there is no point in wasting time.” He gestured with the scepter—and suddenly Gabriel found himself blinded with an agonizing wave of pain.

It was as if he’d licked a finger and stuck it in an outlet. A jolt of high-voltage electricity shot through his body, making every hair stand on end and every nerve ending burn. He felt himself flung to the floor with tremendous force. He slid backward a few feet, stunned by the charge.

Khufu stood motionless, still pointing the scepter.

What the hell was that thing ?

He tried to stand but Khufu aimed the scepter at him again. Gabriel put his hands up before him. “Okay, okay, I get—”

Another jolt of electricity shot through him, causing every muscle in his body to clench tight as a fist. He felt it in his eyelids and the soles of his feet. He could smell his hair singe.

“Those who cultivate the seeds of disobedience,” Khufu said, “reap only pain.” He lowered the scepter. “Now, rise. If you can.”

Gabriel slowly rolled over, groaned involuntarily, got to his hands and knees. He finally managed to stand. His entire body ached and his knees trembled.

“You are strong,” Khufu said. “But no man is strong enough to withstand the fury of the gods. If I smite you once more, your innards will cook inside you, your bowels turn to water; once more again and your heart will burst. There are few worse deaths.”

Gabriel didn’t answer.

“I have done this to you for a reason,” Khufu said. “I wish to demonstrate that you are at my mercy. You live or die by my grace.”

“Consider the point made,” Gabriel said.

“Good. Now, Amun tells me you have agreed to help us find the Second Stone.”

“I did agree,” Gabriel said. “I’m having second thoughts now.”

“Don’t. You should be honored to be chosen. It will be an event celebrated throughout the course of history. Your name will be forever linked to its discovery. When the new world is born out of the ashes of the old, you will have been a part of it. You should rejoice in your good fortune.”

“That’s all right. You can rejoice for both of us.”

“Oh, I will. The Second Stone will allow me to lead Egypt into a new reign of power. First, the Middle East. Israel will bow at our feet. Saudi Arabia will acknowledge the true masters of Africa. Then the Mediterranean will be ours again. We will take back Rome and Constantinople. And finally your own distant borders will fall. Egypt will be the leader of the world once again.”

“Well, no one can accuse you of thinking small,” Gabriel said.

“The most satisfying conquest, of course, will be France. To exact revenge on the country that raped Egypt during Napoleon’s reign will be the sweetest victory. Napoleon was a monster and a thief. He and his brother Louis will be visited by Anubis in the afterlife and be subjected to excruciating torment. They already reside in hell, but their existence there will be made worse still, for they will see their people kneel to us. And after the destruction of France, Britain shall fall. We will take back what they hold in their so-called museums and then crush their country. Two new pyramids will rise, one in Paris and one in London, to mark their subjugation.”

Khufu pointed the staff at him again, and Gabriel flinched slightly. “You will cooperate. You will do as Amun says, or you will suffer pain you cannot imagine—and your sister as well. You will find the Second Stone or you will both beg for death’s release.”

Gabriel said nothing.

“ Do you understand? ”

“Yes, yes, I understand.”

The two men faced each other for a moment. “I believe you do,” Khufu said. “Go, then. Get the rest you require. You have much work to do beginning in the morning.”

Gabriel heard the wall pivot open behind him. He had been dismissed. On unsteady legs, he walked out of the chamber. Kemnebi stood waiting—and caught him when Gabriel’s legs gave out.

Chapter 13

The Hunt Foundation jet was cavernous enough when full. With only one person on it other than Charlie in the cockpit, the emptiness was disquieting. Sammi Ficatier tried to put it out of her mind. She pressed buttons in the armrest of her seat until she found one that dimmed the cabin lights and another that put on some music, and then she put her head back and tried to sleep.

But it was not to be. The music was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. It kept ringing till she found another button on the armrest labeled with a picture of a phone and pressed it.

“Miss Ficatier?” It was Michael Hunt’s voice.

“Yes?” she said, unsure whether he could hear her if she just spoke regularly.

Apparently he could. “You promised you’d answer my questions,” Michael said. “When you had the time. As you have a few hours ahead of you now in the air . . .”

“Certainly,” she said. “What would you like to know?”

“How do you know my sister?”

“We took classes together in Nice,” Sammi said. “We became friends.”

“And my brother?”

“We . . . met in Cifer’s apartment.”

“Excuse me?”

“Cifer’s apartment,” Sammi said. “Lucy. Your sister.”

“What are you talking about?” Michael said. “Cifer is a, is a computer hacker who has helped us out from time to time—what does Cifer have to do with my sister?”

“Cifer is your sister,” Sammi said. “She hacks computers, she calls herself Cifer. I thought you knew that.”

There was silence on the other end. Then the voice said, “No. I did not know that.”

Sammi’s heart sank. Had she just said the wrong thing? She knew Cifer didn’t get along with her brother, hadn’t spoken to him for years; she hadn’t known he didn’t even know her name. The hell with it , she thought. Saving your life is more important .

“So,” Michael said, softly, “tell me what happened to my brother.”

She filled him in, from the ransacked apartment in Nice and the chase by the police to the flight into Cairo and her kidnapping at the bazaar. She described how she’d escaped from the men who’d grabbed her and how she’d gotten back just in time to see Gabriel bundled first into a limousine and then into a private plane. She told him how she’d found out where the plane was headed. She didn’t tell him how it had ended, with her facing the man in the control room at gunpoint and realizing there was nothing to tie him up with and no way she could trust him not to sound the alarm. She’d thought one shooting in a day, and that in self-defense, was her limit. She’d learned she was wrong.

Michael asked many questions, forcing her to double back and retell parts of the story. He probed for details she’d forgotten or never known. But finally his questions petered out, like a wind-up toy running down.

“And you haven’t heard from Gabriel since you saw him board the plane,” Michael said.

“No. Have you?”

“I’m afraid not. I tried tracking his phone—nothing. The signal’s dead.”

“Maybe he has it turned off?” Sammi said.

“Not this signal,” Michael said. “It can’t be turned off.”

“Don’t worry,” Sammi said. “I’ll find him. I’ll find them both.” But she heard the empty bravado in her own voice.

“Marrakesh is a big place,” Michael said.

It was true—Marrakesh was large, and she’d never been there before.

“Do you maybe know anyone there who could help?” she said.