Tomb of the Lost

Chapter FORTY



The large orange airlift bags bobbed up and down in the calm sea. Small waves causing them to buck and twist. It had been twenty four hours since the sarcophagus of Alexander the great had been discovered by marine archaeologist Natalie Feltham and her team. They had worked around the clock with the crew of the ‘Volante’ and now the stone sarcophagus, estimated to weigh at least a ton, was floating six feet below the surface. Its lid still inside the freighter, located by George Roussos, lying by the side of the sarcophagus in eighteen inches of sand and silt.

’Volante’ crew members now worked in positioning their ship to be able to use the crane mounted at the stern. The dive teams secured large straps underneath the sarcophagus and as the crane took up the strain they deflated the airbags. Once the dive team were all safely on board everyone watched intensely as the ancient relic was lifted slowly from the sea. Water and slime dripped from it. For a moment it passed in front of the sun causing a giant shadow on the deck of the ’Volante.’ Then it was swinging around and down. Willing hands guided it gently down to sit on battens. It bumped them and the straps went slack. The crane hook came down low enough for the straps to be taken off.

Hutchinson ran his hands lovingly over the surface. The interior was still filled with seawater. He dipped his fingertips in the water and swirled them around.

“We’ll need to bail this water out,” he told Ali.

The Turkish Captain instructed two of his crew. They dashed off and returned with plastic buckets and began bailing the seawater out.

Hutchinson walked all the way round the sarcophagus, everyone else moving out of his way. Peter Dennis was studying it. It was quite plain, the carvings not particularly very good.

“I must admit,” he said to Natalie, “ I thought it would be, more….”

“Glamorous,” she offered.

“Well yes quite frankly. Alexander the great is one of the most famous men in history. He’s up there with people like Julius Caesar, Genghis Khan, Abraham Lincoln, Adolf Hitler. Fame on a global scale. You would think his final resting place would be on a grander scale. You did say you were sure this was it when Jim asked.”

“I said I was sure it was the sarcophagus. I didn’t say it was Alexander’s.”

Dennis spoke to Hutchinson.

“Jim what do you think?”

“I really don’t know. The hieroglyphs don’t reveal much. The cartouche’s aren’t very clear. I’m not an Egyptologist so I would have to check on the Alexander cartouche. I don’t even know what name he ruled Egypt under.”

“I’ll go get a laptop,” Dennis said.

He sprinted up the stairs for the bridge.

‘Thank God for Google,’ he was thinking, ’What would we do without it.’

He then remembered that the ’Volante’ had an extensive reference library and thought about visiting it but ruled it out almost instantly. It would take too long to find what he needed.

He opened a laptop and pressed the power button. He glanced out of the window. The ’Wavecrest’ was broadside half a mile away. For once the enemy ship looked to be quiet.

Dennis typed in username and password when the screen came up. He carried the open computer out of the door and down the stairs.

Three small boats left the ’Wavecrest’ from her hidden side and came around and headed towards the ’Volante.’

By the time Dennis got back to the others Hutchinson had already worked out some of the hieroglyphs. He was now trying to work out the name on the cartouche. He looked up at Natalie.

“Nectanebo.”

“Nectanebo? The Pharaoh. The first? Second? That’s not possible. We know the whereabouts of their tombs.”

“Yes you’re right. I don’t think it’s meant to be one of them but it is definitely Nectanebo.”

“Was there a Nectanebo the third?”

“Not to my knowledge. But then like I said earlier I’m not an Egyptologist.”

Peter Dennis began typing in the search box.

“Nectanebo did you say?”

“Yes.”

“Can you spell it.”

Natalie called out the letters. He clicked on the links.

“There’s nothing coming up for Nectanebo the third. There’s one and two.”

“Does it mention sarcophagi?”

“Just a moment.”

Dennis scrolled down the page he’d opened.

“Yes Nectanebo the first founded the 30 dynasty and ruled for eighteen years. He defeated a combined Greek and Persian attack and drove them out, was succeeded by his own son Teos who moved against Persia. In his absence Teos’ son Tjahepimu declared his son King, who became Nectanebo the second. It doesn’t say where Nectanebo the first is buried. Ah this is interesting. Nectanebo the second fought with twenty thousand Greek mercenaries in his one hundred thousand strong army at Pelusium in 343BC against the Persians. He lost the battle and fled to Nubia. What happened to him after that is not known. His tomb was apparently destroyed by the Ptolemies, though which one is not known. Now the interesting bit. In the British museum in London is a black granite sarcophagus with the inscriptions for Nectanebo the second. It wasn’t used and was found in Alexandria. It was once known as ’Alexander’s bath.’ He was the last Egyptian to rule Egypt until General Neguib in 1952.”

“So who is this?” Natalie asked touching the cartouche, “Not another name for Alexander?”

“No I don’t think so,” Hutchinson replied.

“And what the hell was this doing in Tunisia anyway?” Peter Dennis asked.

“I don’t know,” the American said, “But i know one thing. This is not the final resting place of Alexander the great. The Germans must have heard of the ‘Alexander’s bath’ story. I’m afraid they got it wrong.”

Natalie could see the disappointment on his face.

“I really don’t think this is it either Jim.”

The Lynx helicopter screamed past them making them all whirl around it was so sudden and unexpected. Dennis saw the 20mm cannons mounted on either side. His gaze travelled up until he saw the bulk of Danilov filling the cockpit. The helicopter passed out over the sea, slowed, turned and came back towards them at a more leisurely pace. It came in over the stern of the ’Volante’ and hovered at two hundred feet and held. Then very slowly it descended to one hundred feet and held.

“We should hide the sarcophagus!” George shouted.

“Too late!” Hutchinson replied, “They’ve already seen it.”

A voice crackled over the ’Volante’s ’ loudspeaker system.

“Research vessel Volante. You have in your possession something which doesn’t belong to you. Prepare to be boarded.”

Ali picked up a walkie-talkie and adjusted the frequency.

“Unidentified aircraft. You are in violation of international treaty laws. Your demands are unacceptable. Your actions could be misinterpreted as acts of piracy. The authorities have been alerted to your position. Do not attempt to board us.”

There was no response. Then the Lynx dropped another fifty feet.

“Volante prepare to be boarded.”

Dennis saw the twin 20mm machine guns and expected Danilov to fire at any moment.

“Unidentified aircraft this is the Captain of the research vessel Volante. I repeat my previous warning. You are in violation of international law. This is a deliberate attack on a civilian vessel. The authorities are alerted. Do not attempt to board this vessel. My crew are armed and will use deadly force. You must leave immediately.”

The helicopter continued to hover menacingly, its guns trained. Dennis was gauging the distance between himself and Natalie and safety. He would have to grab her and run at least fifty metres to the nearest cover faster than bullets could fly. The odds weren’t good.

“I say again. Do not attempt to board this ship. Leave immediately!” Ali shouted into the radio.

They all waited tensely. Then suddenly the Lynx dipped its nose and powered away. The downdraught making the ’Volante’ crew bring their hands up in front of their faces. Natalie’s hair streamed out behind her.

“Are you all right?” Dennis asked her when the noise of the Lynx helicopter had gone.

She smiled at him. Then her smile vanished. A polite cough made them all turn around.

There were fifteen men dressed in black military fatigues forming a semi-circle facing the ’Volante’ crew. Each man was pointing a Heckler and Koch Mp5. In front of the fifteen stood a large man in a white suit with his head bowed and his hands clasped behind his back. No one could see his face as yet because of his large white Panama hat. But Dennis knew him.

One of the men took a few steps forward until he was level with the man in the white suit.

“Nobody move,” he ordered, “Keep your hands where they can be seen.”

“What is the meaning of this….?” Ali protested.

The white clad figure raised his right hand for attention. The head remained bowed for a few more moments then slowly looked up, sunlight glinting off the small round spectacles. Natalie felt a shudder run through her. She suddenly found herself clinging to Dennis.

“Nobody move!” the man in black commanded again then stepped back in line with his comrades.

“Who are you and what do you want?” Jim Hutchinson demanded. He started to move forward but the sub machine gun nearest him twitched. He found himself staring down its barrel.

The white dressed man approached the American and stood very close and stared straight into his eyes. Hutchinson suddenly felt very afraid. There seemed to be an aura of power emanating from the newcomer.

“All in good time my friend.”

The words were icy.

“Now which one of you is Peter Dennis?”

Hutchinson just stared back but a tiny whimper escaped Natalie’s lips as she hugged Dennis closer. The man in the white suit reached out, put a hand on Hutchinson’s shoulder and pushed him gently but firmly to one side. He walked slowly towards the journalist and stopped when he was near. Then he smiled a false smile and held out his hand for Dennis to shake.

“So you lied to me before about your identity. Mr Dennis we meet at last.”

Dennis looked down at the offered hand and then at the small Nazi party badge on the left breast pocket of the white suit and then into the man’s eyes.

“Who are you and what do you want with me?”

“You really should have returned my calls,” the voice said quietly. The hand dropped to the man’s side.

Something in Dennis clicked.

“It was you wasn’t it? On the phone in my office late one night. You refused to give me your name.”

“Yes it was. Very well. My name,” he boomed so the whole ship could hear him, “Is Otto Brest Von Werner. Count Otto Brest Von Werner. You may call me Herr Count if you wish. I have a castle in Bavaria owned by my family for generations. I am a collector of fine art and antiquities….”

“Mercenary more like,” Hutchinson said, “I’ve heard of you.”

He stopped and put his hands up as the nearest gun barrel was jammed into his ribs.

“Do not interrupt me Mr Hutchinson.”

“You know my name.”

“Yes.”

Again the smile, this time genuine.

“I am a collector of fine art and antiquities as I said before. As was my grandfather.”

Dennis turned his head slightly to one side, studying the man. It was starting to fall into place. The white suit, the Nazi party badge, the name.

“I see you’re studying me in a new light Mr Dennis. You know who my grandfather was. Perhaps you would care to share with us.”

Dennis nodded.

“Dr Werner Von Brest.”

“Excellent,” Von Werner clapped, “That is correct. Dr Werner Von Brest. The finest archaeologist the world has ever known. I am privileged to follow in his footsteps.”

“The man who found the sarcophagus,” Natalie said to Dennis.

“That is correct Miss….?” Von Werner paused for her name.

“Feltham. Natalie Feltham.”

“Miss Feltham.”

Von Werner took her hand gently and brought it up to his lips to kiss like a gentlemen but she snatched it away before he could. This time his smile was real.

“You do not need to fear me,” he whispered to her.

She shuddered. He was vile.

More of his men arrived. They had been searching the lower decks.

“The ship is clean Herr Count,” their leader said, “There is no one else on board.”

“Very well. Radio Danilov and get him back here with the helicopter.”

“Yes Sir.”

The man moved away and placed his finger on his ear piece to make the call.

“None of you need fear me,” Von Werner’s voice boomed out over the ship again, “Or my men. We are merely professionals doing a job.”

Now his eyes went to the sarcophagus for the first time. He went to it, his palms outstretched.

“Ah it is beautiful is it not? This was my grandfather’s life’s work. To find the resting place of one of history’s most famous men and to know he almost succeeded.”

Hutchinson scowled at Von Werner. This was the first time the German had even looked at it.

’He’s not interested in it. It’s just a trophy to him.’

The sound of the helicopter returning was getting louder. Von Werner reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small leather bound and very well used notebook. He flipped open the little popper that held it shut and thumbed through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He began to study the pages with the sarcophagus before him. Hutchinson craned his neck to see. Von Werner noticed out of the corner of his eye.

“I see you’re interested in my little book. Well there’s no harm in you knowing. My grandfather kept this diary as a record of everything he ever did or found out about the sarcophagus, possible locations, events, legends, etc. He spent his whole life looking and he made notes of it all, even the most minute detail. He took it everywhere and yet ironically on this, which was to be his final journey, he left it behind. I keep it for sentimental reasons. For you see my dear fellow,” he said to Dennis,” You found the sarcophagus for me. All of you.”

Dennis’ reply was drowned out by the Lynx helicopter returning. It flew in low and landed on the heli-pad of the ’Volante’. Danilov glaring out of the windscreen at Dennis. Dennis swallowed hard, his future prospects didn’t look good. He was quite sure that Danilov would happily kill them all single handed. The helicopter engine was switched off and the rotors began to slow. Danilov climbed out carrying a large aluminium briefcase. He never once took his eyes off Dennis as he strode over. He looked Natalie up and down approvingly as he passed.

Von Werner was checking carved inscriptions with the pages of his notebook. He ran his hand over the cartouche while thumbing through pages searching. Nothing as yet matched. Nothing, recognisable.

’This has to be it. My grandfather wouldn’t, couldn’t, be wrong’

Danilov stopped a few feet away. Von Werner took a few steps back.

“This is it,” he said, “Prepare it to be lifted,” he ordered the team leader.

“Yes Sir.”

Three of his men jumped into action.

“So that’s it is it?” Hutchinson said, “You’re no more than a petty thief.”

“On the contrary,” Von Werner said, not in the least insulted, “I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse. Danilov!”

The huge Russian came forward and put the briefcase on a crate. He entered the combinations and the locks clicked open. He opened the case and moved away. Von Werner invited Hutchinson to the case. Inside there was a red digital display and a computer keyboard.

“I would like to offer you $5 million U.S. dollars for the sarcophagus or 3 million euros. Whichever you prefer. All you have to do is enter your bank address and account number and it is yours.”

Hutchinson stared at the display screen showing a row of zeros .

“As you can see,” Von Werner continued, “I am no thief.”

Natalie and the dive team watched with bated breath. What would their boss do. Five million dollars was what the institute made in about ten years. Von Werner moved aside to give Hutchinson some room. The American reached forward with his index finger poised near the keypad. He closed the finger, his hand now a loose fist. He turned his head in Von Werner’s direction. His eyes settled on the Nazi party badge, his gaze taking in the swastika. Hutchinson’s grandparents had been Jewish. Immigrants who’d arrived in the United states at the beginning of the twentieth century. He tore his eyes away from the hated symbol, once a sign of friendship used by the Romans, now the remnant of what was once evil in war torn Europe six decades ago, and looked up at Von Werner. The count stared back behind his small round spectacles, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Hutchinson not taking his eyes off the German took four steps back until he was alongside Dennis and Natalie. George stared at his boss open mouthed.

‘Has he gone mad? He should take the money offered, for our pay day. Now they will take the sarcophagus and the money and we’ll have nothing.”

George suddenly wished he had the power to negotiate, but he didn’t have the tongue for it.

Peter Dennis was also surprised.

’Five million dollars for something we know is only worth a few hundred. Whatever his reasons they must be good’

“Danilov!”

The huge Russian came forward.

“Put it back in the helicopter.”

Danilov closed the steel case and reset the combination locks. He carried it over to the Lynx and placed it behind the co-pilots seat. On his return he was carrying a Heckler and Koch G36. He reached into his black combat trouser thigh pocket and took out a suppressor and calmly fitted it to the gun. Dennis guessed this action was the start of general killing.

The ‘Volante’ crew now watched as Danilov and two others set about dismantling the outboard motors on the dinghy. They pushed the engines over the side where they slipped into the deep. Next Danilov stood back and fired a burst into each of the ship’s life rafts puncturing them. Ali and his crew stood by helpless. The team leader returned.

“Everything is done Herr Count.”

“Thank you.”

Von Werner faced Hutchinson.

“You may regret not taking my money. It was a genuine offer. Now I will take the artefact for free. You may begin loading the helicopter. Take the sarcophagus first and then these crates,” he instructed the team leader.

“Yes Herr count. Do you want me to open them first to see if they’re of value?”

“No there is no time. Just take them. We can get rid of them later if they’re of no use.”

Von Werner extended his hand to Natalie.

“It’s time for us to leave my dear. If you’d be good enough to join us.”

Dennis got in front of her and held her behind him.

“What?” she asked.

“My dear Fraulein we can hardly sail away with our prized possession without an insurance policy. I need to take one of you with us. I mean after all I can’t leave you all here to contact the authorities. So you will be my insurance.”

“Don’t move Nat,” Dennis said.

“You’ve got what you came for,” Hutchinson shouted across the deck.

“Indeed I have. Your ship’s communications and guidance controls have been neutralised by a virus we’ve installed. You will be unable to pursue us. Your ship’s position is currently being given as ten miles from here. Even your mobile phones won’t work.”

Hutchinson reached into his pocket.

“Please feel free to try.”

There was no signal obtained. On anyone’s.

“You will be quite alone out here once we’ve left. Now please miss Feltham. I’m a busy man!”

“Stay where you are Natalie. Nobody is going with you,” Hutchinson said to Von Werner as he moved in front of her and alongside Dennis.

“Danilov!”

The Russian pointed the Heckler and Koch as he advanced on them.

“Take me!” Dennis blurted out.

He stood directly in front of Danilov who now shouldered the sub machine gun. He grabbed Dennis in both hands and was about to throw him bodily out of the way.

“Danilov wait,” Von Werner called.

The big Russian let Dennis go. Von Werner came closer.

“What did you say Mr Dennis?”

“I said take me instead.”

“May I remind you that I am a professional doing my job. I assure you Miss Feltham will not be harmed. I could not hurt such beauty….”

He tried to touch her face but she pulled her head away.

“….Miss Feltham will be put down, blindfolded, but quite unharmed at a neutral port. She will be quite safe. I give you my word.”

“If you’re a gentleman as you say you are then take me as a hostage. You don’t need the girl.”

“Now there’s a thought. How very gallant of you. How very English.”

Danilov was bored with all these mind games.

’Why can’t we just kill them all now?’ he was thinking.

“Very well Mr Dennis,” Von Werner said, “I shall use you as a hostage.”

He looked at Danilov.

“Take them both.”

“Wait a minute. That wasn’t part of the agreement.”

Von Werner reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a small Beretta pistol and levelled it at waist height.

“Who said we had an agreement? Now move!”

Dennis knew he had no choice.

“It’ll be all right,” he said to Natalie, cradling her face in his hands. He turned and led her towards the steps and down to the small boats waiting. Danilov right behind. Von Werner raised a hand and said in a cheery voice.

“Thank you gentlemen for your hospitality. I bid you good day.”

“I swear to you if anything happens to them.” Hutchinson shouted after him but Von Werner was now too far away to hear it.

Once in the boat and away Dennis looked back at the ‘Volante’, apparently now adrift, stricken, the crew still safely on board. He tore his eyes away and looked at Danilov. The big man just stared back coldly. Dennis stared at him for thirty seconds or so and finally tutted, rolled his eyes and focused back on the ‘Volante’.

‘There must be something they can do,’ he was thinking.

The three little boats were zipping across the water towards the ‘Wavecrest’ flat out. Natalie rubbed the goose pimples on her arms. The wind was making her cold. Her nipples had become hard and were pressing through her vest. This had not gone unnoticed by Danilov who was looking at them, his mouth open. She caught him looking and tried to cover herself with her arms. Dennis, sitting directly behind her, leaned forward and spoke into her ear.

“Are you cold?”

She half turned and nodded. He reached around her, held her close and rubbed her skin to help. This stirred Danilov even more. His tongue flicked out over his lips. Natalie saw it and fought the urge to vomit.

Dennis was now studying the ’Wavecrest.’ As their boat got near he could see it was much bigger than the ’Volante.’ The two domes, one at the bow and the other at the stern, he could now see were machine guns. Once on deck he could see more crew members.

“How many crew does your ship carry?” Dennis asked.

Von Werner only replied with a smug grin. Dennis guessed it had to be at least forty. He also noted that he couldn’t see any of them carrying arms.

’That’s good,’ he thought, “But there are fifteen that are.”

“What?” Natalie asked. He hadn’t realised he’d said the latter out loud.

“I can’t see any of the crew carrying weapons. While we’re here use your eyes and ears. Make mental notes of everything, even something that seems insignificant could help us if opportunity arises.”

“Opportunity?”

“Yes. I intend to escape if I can, we can, don’t you?”

She suddenly felt a thrill rush through her.

“It’s like being in the movies. Is your life always like this?”

“Sometimes. Though I never get the girl.”

“Well this time you may have Mr Dennis.”

“No talking,” Danilov said shoving Dennis in the back. Dennis whirled round on him.

“You know Danilov you really are a nasty bastard aren’t you?”

He didn’t even attempt to duck the fist that landed squarely on his chin.