Kathlyn Trent, Marcus Burton 01 - Valley of the Shadow (12 page)

He was polite for an intruder. "I showed my credentials to the Marines and Dr. McGrath gave me the approval I needed to wait for you. He said I could sit here, out of the sun. I hope that is all right."

It wasn't, but she refrained from comment. Odd how McGrath hadn't said anything to her when he was down in the tomb. Maybe he didn't want to risk upsetting her. Tossing her pack aside, she sat down and began unlacing her boots. "Mr. Baras, please don't think I’m being rude but now is not a good time and frankly, I'm not sure what more there is to talk about. My association with Dr. Abrahams has ended."

"I realize that, Dr. Trent," Baras said. "We were informed that you are now funded by World Geography Magazine. But I was hoping to have a word with you about the Calvary Escarpment. Just a brief word, I promise."

She exhaled sharply, blowing wisps of hair from her eyes. "I'm no longer interested in the Calvary Escarpment. I have an extremely consequential dig going on right here in Egypt."

"I understand completely and allow me to add my own congratulations," Baras said patiently. There was a briefcase on the floor beside him and he put it in his lap.  He popped open the lid and began digging around. "I would like to show you something, Dr. Trent.  These photographs have been in our archives and I think they are something you should see."

She sat in her chair, weary to the bone, watching him shuffle out photos. Half of her was inherently interested while the other half simply didn't want to see them. She didn't want to be tempted by whatever they may represent.

"Mr. Baras," she said. "I'm really not interested. If Abrahams sent you here to convince me to go to Israel, I'm afraid you're wasting your time."

Baras simply smiled and handed her a photo. "If you would only take a quick look at this, I can tell you that we believe this to be a picture of the Ark of the Covenant. It was taken by an amateur archaeologist in an area of the Damascus Gate known as Jeremiah's Grotto."

She didn't look at it for a moment. Then, her eyes trailed to the color shot of what appeared to be a gilded mass, molded into what seemed to be figures of people in flowing robes. Animals were inlaid on the surface, fantastically detailed, and the more she looked, the more incredulous she became. She didn't refuse as Baras handed her several more photographs, including one of a massive, heavily-worn sword. Kathlyn couldn't keep the awe from her voice.

"The Sword of Goliath?" she asked, her tone hardly above a whisper.

Baras nodded. "From what we believe." He sat forward, speaking earnestly. "Dr. Trent, we need someone to validate these items. I'm not saying we want to publicize this to the entire world, but our government has finally reached the point where they wish to have these most holy relics identified for our own purposes. We can think of no other person to do this but you."

Kathlyn sat there a moment, wondering why everything seemed to have happened to her at one time. This could be the crowning glory of her career, and instead of jumping on it, she was about to refuse. She was simply too exhausted to make a rational decision.

"Why, Mr. Baras?" she finally asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Yes, you do," she was feeling her irritation again. "SCU has been trying for years to gain permits to dig in this area, but they've always been flatly denied by the Israelis and the WADF. Every time I've located something of Biblical significance, the Israeli government is always the first one to leap up and denounce my work.  I've taken a beating from you guys and you know it. And now, suddenly, you want me to dig in one of the most sacred areas of Jerusalem. Why?"

Baras sat back in his seat, not at all offended. A weak smile played on his lips. "As they say, Dr. Trent, timing is everything. Now is the right time."

"You still haven't answered my question. Why?"

"Because you're the best. You're what we need."

"That's not an answer," her exhaustion was threatening to overwhelm her and she put up her hands as if to stop the conversation in its tracks. "Look, I just can't make a decision right now. I've been up since before dawn and I'm worn out."

Marcus picked that moment to knock softly on the side of the tent and push through the flap. His eyes fell on Baras immediately and his expression was nothing less than hostile.

"Who in the hell are you?' he demanded.

Baras looked terrified. Kathlyn fought off a smile. "Mr. Baras, allow me to introduce you to the camp's congeniality representative, Dr. Marcus Burton.  Marcus, this is Schmin Baras, a Deputy Director from the Israeli Department of Ministry and Foreign affairs. McGrath gave him clearance to be here."

Baras didn't know whether to hold out his hand in greeting or run for his life. "Dr. Burton," he struggled to remain calm. "Your reputation precedes you, sir. It is a genuine pleasure."

Marcus didn't back off.  In fact, he wedged himself in between Kathlyn and Baras. "I need to talk to Dr. Trent alone."

Baras took the hint gladly. When he scampered off in terror, Kathlyn reached up and grasped Marcus' hand.

"Mr. Friendly, aren't we?" she pulled on him, trying to coax him into relaxing. "Come on, sit down. What's up?"

He pulled her out of the chair, took it himself, and sat her on his lap. Gently, he began removing her boots. "McGrath told me he was in here," he said simply. "I just wanted to see for myself."

“Afraid he’s going to lure me into leaving?”

He shrugged, pulling off the other boot. “You don’t need that kind of pressure right now, not after….” He suddenly lifted his head, looking her in the eye. “Christ, I’m sorry. Listen to me. I’m taking over like it’s my damn right or something.”

She smiled, running her fingers through his hair affectionately and kissing his cheek. “You can take over any time you like,” she murmured. “I’ve never had anyone take charge of me except me.  Just once I’d kind of like someone to think enough of me to take care of me, because God knows I’m too idiotic to do it sometimes.”

He laughed softly. “Who was it that said it’s too soon to think about the future?”

“You.”

“It is too soon to talk about this kind of stuff, right?”

She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. I’m not sure there really is a time frame for this kind of thing. I think it all depends on how you feel and how right it is.”

He looked at her, the cobalt blue eyes blazing. “How right is it?”

Kathlyn smiled at him, softened by his vulnerability. “To make me forget everything I’ve worked for, it must be very right. What about you?”

He seemed particularly emotional. “If you asked me to walk away from this tomorrow and go chase myths with you, I’d do it without a second thought. I’ve never felt like this about anyone in my entire life.”

Kathlyn leaned over, kissing him softly. He responded with his usual power, overwhelming her with his seeking mouth. Every time they kissed, the emotion and sexual pull grew stronger and stronger. Marcus was seriously thinking about making a play for her delicious breasts when Lynn suddenly neared the tent, practically shouting the story of the steep stairwell and the frightening statue of Anubis.

Knowing their privacy would soon be at an end, Marcus kissed her deliciously one last time before returning his focus to removing her socks and shoes. He began rubbing her feet, much to Kathlyn’s delight, as Juliana, Lynn and Dennis eventually spilled into the tent.

“Here you guys are,” Juliana said happily. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you. McGrath has popped a few bottles of champagne in his tent. He’s going to get us all plastered compliments of UCPR.”

Kathlyn had fallen back on Juliana’s bed, her rear end and legs still on Marcus’ lap as he sat silently and massaged her feet. She waved a weary hand at the excited crew.

“This is an Islamic country,” she said. “How’d he get it past Customs?”

Dennis grinned, giving Marcus the eye. “As we’ve said before, it’s amazing what you can buy on the Black Market.” He looked at Kathlyn. “Are you coming?”

“Forget it,” Kathlyn said. “I’ve got all the stimulation I need right here.”

“We can’t have a party without our stars,” Juliana insisted. “There will be time for feet rubbing later. But right now, McGrath is driving the party train and we’re all getting on board.”

Juliana and Lynn began dancing around, singing the old disco-era song by the same name.  After a few ‘whoo-whoos’, Kathlyn put up her hands.

“Okay!” she exclaimed softly. “I feel like I’m watching ‘Soul Train’. Enough already. We’re coming.”

Juliana continued to dance. She had already had a couple of glasses of champagne and was feeling pretty good. Lynn watched her with appreciation, as did Dennis. She had great form. But then Kathlyn got up and started dancing beside her, as a joke, like a stripper doing a pole dance, and the men had to catch their breath. She swung her long hair around and rolled her body like a professional. The woman had incredible moves, in all directions.

“Christ,” Marcus muttered, smacking her in the bottom to force her to stop. “That’ll be enough of that. But I’ll see you in my tent later, doctor.”

She giggled, her weariness being overtaken by the prevailing mood. “Why? Do you want a lap dance?”

“Quiet,” he smacked her again. “Get moving.”

“Can I at least get my shoes on?”

Marcus pushed her back on the bed and pulled her socks and boots on with exaggerated irritation. She giggled and snorted the entire time. Spilling out into the warm Egyptian evening, the five of them moved to the party tent, where McGrath and the rest of the crew were already in full swing. 

Baras happened to be in the tent, having nowhere else to go and hoping to get a chance to talk to Kathlyn again. Due to Marcus’ hulking presence, he didn’t corner Kathlyn again but he watched her well into the night.  He had a report to make and wanted to make sure he had all of the information he could glean before making it.

CHAPTER NINE

Dennis seemed to be the only one awake. Normally the camp was rolling an hour before dawn, but this morning proved to be different. Too much champagne had a way of making people sleep in.

The Marines were up, however. As Dennis crossed the compound, he eyed the guys in the fatigues and wondered if they had even slept. There were eighteen of them in and around camp and up on the slope. They carried around those big heavy rifles but Dennis wasn't a weapons expert and didn't know a Derringer from an Uzi.  He just knew that if anyone was foolish enough to try and rob Marcus' dig, the United States military would take care of them in a hurry. They were comforting and intimidating at the same time.

The coffee in his hand was strong and hot. Dennis sipped it as he crossed the parking lot and walked out onto the road, heading for the site. Marcus wanted the second plaster doorway breached this morning and Dennis intended to get a head start. Marcus was still passed out on his bed, alone, contrary to what everyone in camp was expecting. Trent had gone back to her tent alone, too, but she and Marcus had spent most of the evening lost in each other's eyes. It was obvious that they were crazy about each other. There were three new pools now, one for when they got married, one for if she became pregnant before or after their wedding, and based on that, the third pool was for the birth of their first child. If Marcus got wind of it, Dennis knew that he would kill them all.

The morning air had a faint hint of warmth to it. The ground was dry as a bone, no dew forming in the fall air. There were three Marines up at the shaft entrance and Dennis showed them his temporary credentials, made for all camp personnel and staff by the United State Embassy in Cairo for security purposes.  He was given clearance, but only with an escort. A master sergeant followed him into the shaft, much to Dennis' annoyance. The first thing Dennis did was throw the switch on the Honda generator and light up the tunnel.

It was eerie being alone in a shaft that was etched out from the rock three thousand years before. Individual chisel marks could be seen on the ceilings and walls where the workmen had struck them. Dennis moved into Chamber A, noting that the curators from the SCA had put great protective wraps around the smoke-colored granite statues.  The arch itself was wrapped in cotton batting and burlap to the height of six feet; the rest of it, up above, was safe enough from anyone bashing into it or damaging it. The sergeant moved along behind him like a shadow.

The steps in Stairwell B had been swept off, but they were still steep and slippery.  A string of lights now ran the length of the shaft, but the stairs were still treacherous and Dennis was glad to get off of them. Corridor C was brilliantly lit, the color vibrant and alive. Chamber D was already in the process of being recorded, the gilded chariots in their original position with catalog cards resting on them. Dennis and the sergeant crossed the makeshift bridge, listening to the rustling going on far down below them in the pit. Dennis peered down into the darkness.

"Bugs," he said.

The Marine lifted an eyebrow at him. "Do you know that for sure, sir?"

Dennis nodded. "We dropped a light down there yesterday. It’s about forty feet to the bottom and filled with a multitude of creepy crawlies. That's apparently where our tide of scorpions came from, though we can't figure out where they got out."

The sergeant didn't reply but he did cast a long look into the hole. Dennis continued into Chamber E where the main treasure horde had been stored. The drill was against the wall where he had left it the day before. As he inspected the equipment, he noticed the sergeant showing interest in the surroundings.

"Ever seen anything like this, sergeant?" Dennis asked.

"No, sir," the man replied.

"Neither has anybody else. Consider yourself fortunate. You'll have something to tell your grandkids someday."

The sergeant was in his mid-forties with the classic lean and mean military physique.  He had brilliant blue eyes, arms like canons, and a professional demeanor.

"When I enlisted in the Corp, I did it to see the world,” he said. “But I never thought I'd be a part of something like this."

Dennis smiled as he connected the drill to the power source. "Neither did I.  When I went to college, I wanted to dig up dinosaur bones. Now look at me."

The Marine looked around, holding onto the strap of his slung rifle. "Hell, I barely graduated from high school. Being in the Marines has been plenty of education."

"You're probably smarter than I am."

"In some ways, sir, it's possible."

“What’s your name, sergeant?”

“Master Sergeant Antony Bubalo, sir.”

With a nod, Dennis flipped on the drill, the whirr of its motor echoing off the walls.   The sergeant stepped back, giving Dennis plenty of room. The ancient plaster began to fly as Dennis dug into the sealed entryway.  It wasn't five seconds later that he began howling like a madman.

***

The entire camp was in an uproar.  Everyone was running, the Marines were shouting, and Kathlyn propelled herself out of bed. Juliana and Debra Jo were up, and the three of them bashed into each other trying to throw clothes and shoes on. Juliana was first, with Kathlyn's shorts on and her hair pulled back against her scalp with a headband.  Exiting the tent, she grabbed the first person she could, who happened to be Mark. After last night's binge, he wasn't looking particularly healthy.

"What's happening?" she demanded.

Mark's expression held a good deal of alarm. "Somebody's been injured in the tomb."

Kathlyn was suddenly next to Juliana, her long hair hanging in all directions. "Who?"

"When the security guard came running down here, all I could understand was 'Burton'."

Kathlyn took off at a dead run.  Her heavy boots weren't laced and she was dressed in the tee shirt she slept in, her olive drab shorts, and an old sweat jacket she had managed to grab.  Her intuition was running into overdrive and her entire body prickled with the painful little tale-tell jabs. It was difficult to keep her panic at bay as she raced down the road to the Valley of the Kings; all she could think about was Marcus and any number of potentially horrifying injuries. There was all manner of activity up on the slope by the time she arrived.

She passed two Marines on their radios, requesting a helicopter to evacuate an injured man.  Their conversation only served to fuel her anxiety. Juliana and Mark were right beside her as the three of them raced up the hill. Everyone was breathing heavily with dust and excitement and there was chaos everywhere. At the entrance to the tunnel, several Marines suddenly spilled out, shouting for a stretcher and a medic. Marcus and Lynn and another Marine emerged behind them, carrying a body between them.

The relief to see that Marcus wasn't injured was indescribable. He was very much whole and sound. But Kathlyn's moment of joy was replaced by horror when she saw who they were carrying; Dennis looked as if someone had covered him in acid. Half of his face was gone, and his neck, right shoulder, and both hands were raw and bleeding. 

"Oh, my God!" she cried. "What happened to him?"

Marcus was ashen. "He was trying to open the second plaster entry," his voice was hoarse. "The plaster was booby trapped; Natron acid poured out all over him. The more he tried to wipe it away, the more it ate."

She could smell the burning flesh. "Marcus, it's still eating him," she gasped. "We've got to get it off."

"Roll him in the sand!" Juliana told them. "It will neutralize the acid and rub it off. Put him down and cover him with sand!"

They dropped him right there on the slope. Everyone began pouring sand and rocks on him, trying to stop the Natron from burning holes through him. Kathlyn tore off her sweatshirt and put it on Dennis' face so he could breathe through all the dust. She sat at his head, holding the fabric over his nose while pouring sand on the damaged part of his face. Though the pain must have been excruciating, Dennis never uttered a sound. As Juliana, Marcus, Lynn, Mark and a host of Marines used the sand to rub the acid away, Kathlyn stroked the good part of Dennis' face and hair to comfort him.

"Don't touch his flesh," Juliana admonished a Marine who got too close. "It will burn you, too." She looked up at Marcus. "We've got to cut these clothes off of him."

Lynn pulled out a Swiss army knife that had a small pair of scissors on it. He cut while Marcus carefully pulled away until Dennis' shirt was off in shreds. Kathlyn left her sweat jacket over his face as they place him on the stretcher. With Marcus at the head, they moved Dr. Reams back down the slope and into camp.

Kathlyn and a couple of Marines were the only ones left behind. She stood there a moment, shocked by what had happened, and angry at the same time. There was no one to blame but her intuition was going crazy. Pin pricks sizzled on her fingertips and the flow, so often felt, was thick and heavy. She bent over and tied her boots so she wouldn't trip and kill herself. Then she turned for the shaft opening.

"Ma'am?" one of the Marine's spoke. "We can't let you go in there, ma'am."

She looked at the young man, not wanting to be harsh with him. But her emotions were on edge and it was a struggle to be calm. "Corporal, I need to go down there and see what happened so I can prevent it from happening again."

"I understand that, ma'am, but the orders from my sergeant are not to let anyone in there."

She lifted an eyebrow. "This dig is not under the jurisdiction of the United States Military. This is a civilian project. My orders come from the project benefactors personally.  I found this goddamn tomb and I'm going into it."

"We can't let you, ma'am. I'm sorry."

"Do you know who I am, Corporal?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Then you're going to have to shoot me to stop me. How do you think your sergeant is going to like that?"

The two Marines looked at each other. "But, ma'am...."

She walked right past them and into the tomb. She half expected them to follow her, but they didn't. The sharp smell of dust and rot assaulted her nose and she sneezed a couple of times as she passed through the shaft. There were tools stacked neatly against the wall and she picked up a long crowbar. Entering Chamber A, she carefully descended the creepy stairs. Corridor C was just as brilliant as she had remembered and Chamber D still awed her with its splendor and pomp. But she wasn't interested in anything other than the sealed doorway. She was determined to check out the source of the horror. She felt bad that she hadn’t had the foresight to prevent it.

Chamber E seemed dim and spooky. She slowed her pace, moving to where Dennis had nearly met his end. The drill was powered up, lying beside a gaping hole in the bottom left hand corner of the sealed doorway.  She was afraid to touch anything and rightly so; great chunks of Natron lay upon the ground, appearing almost wet. She would have Ed analyze the salt, for it didn't have the effect of a corrosive substance unless it had been treated with something she was unaware of. She couldn't imagine, in all of her years of experience, what could possibly make Natron react so caustically. If there was a Mummy's Curse, Dennis had unfortunately found it. She wondered what more lay ahead.

She didn't want to touch anything near the opening so she lay back on her stomach, trying to peer through the hole. She hadn't brought a flashlight and it was difficult to see with just the illumination from the mercury lights. Taking the crowbar, she took a couple of whacks at the ragged edges, rolling back when more Natron poured out. In fact, it was almost as if it exploded outward. For every hit she made on the wall, caustic acid shot out at an alarming rate. Had the handle of the crowbar not been a couple of feet long, she would have been hit. Dennis had been right underneath it with nowhere to go.

She took a final, hard hit and a large chunk of plaster fell away. Natron sprayed onto her shoe and she dragged her foot in the sandy floor to wipe it off. She was making sure the Natron hadn't gone through the leather when from the ragged opening, a soft, moaning breeze poured through.

Kathlyn froze, ears alert, listening to the soft whoosh from a chamber that should have been airtight for three thousand years. It took her a moment to realize it was no breeze, but a stronger, more intense version of the flow. It groaned inside her head, moaning throughout her body as if it was a living, feeling being.  Startled, she stumbled back.

Her heart was thumping loudly in her ears as she stared at the opening. She was about to take a step forward again when the moaning filled her again and a strong pain gripped her head, squeezing as if her skull was in a vice. Kathlyn groaned, holding on to her head, feeling a wash of intense power sweep through her. She fell onto her knees, holding onto her head as if to let it go would see it fly apart at the seams.

Stars began to dance before her eyes in intense agony and a voice cried out to her in the midst of it all that wasn't her own. In the light and dark of her blurred vision, she could see a figure lifting its arms to her and it became clear in the chaos that it was a woman. There was no face on this woman, just a gaping mouth that moaned and Kathlyn struggled to get to her feet and move away from whatever it was. But the pain was too intense, and the dancing stars consumed her. She was scared to death, losing the battle to something she couldn’t understand.