Tomb of the Lost

Chapter FORTY ONE



“Peter! Peter! Wake up.”

Natalie was vigorously shaking his arm. He was laying on his back on a bunk where Danilov had dropped him. The Russian had carried him there after knocking him out. Dennis turned his head this way and that.

“Where? Where am I?” he groaned.

“Peter it’s me Natalie. You’re safe.”

“Are we alone?” he asked still groaning.

“Yes.”

He opened his eyes and suddenly shot up out of the bed, startling her with his so sudden recovery. He checked the door. It was locked from the outside. They were in a cabin with two bunks and a ridiculously small toilet. He went over to the window to inspect it. It was permanently fixed and wouldn’t open. He stopped to look at her. She was staring at him open mouthed.

“Are you all right?”

“Of course.”

“But Danilov knocked you out.”

He winked at her.

“I was pretending.”

He rummaged through the room looking for anything of use.

“Pretending?”

“Yes.”

He was searching the toilet area again. He stopped and looked in her direction.

“Sorry. I had to. That’s the only way I could get this off him.”

He reached into his back jeans pocket and threw a small object to her. She caught it and turned it over in her hand.

“My phone,” she said.

“Yes. But still no signal. We need to get topside.”

“How did you get this? Danilov took it from me.”

“I saw him put it in his pocket. That’s why I pretended he’d knocked me out. He really is an oaf. I guessed that he’d carry me somewhere like here and I hoped he wouldn’t feel me take your phone from his pocket. I just hope he doesn’t remember it too soon.”

Tears were building in her eyes.

“I thought he’d hurt you.”

He hugged her close and they kissed.

“Sorry,” he said, “But it was necessary.”

She nodded.

“Ok. But if you’re going to do anything like that again try to let me know first please.”

“Hope I don’t have to,” he said rubbing his chin, “Not sure I can take many more of his hits. I’m surprised he didn’t break my jaw. Now can you give me a hand I think this pipe is loose.”

He got down by the toilet, took a small coin from his jeans front pocket and turned the toilet’s water supply off.. He then put a foot against the wall and pulled the metal pipe that allowed water in to the toilet off. The water from the toilet poured onto the floor. He lifted the cistern lid. It wasn’t refilling.

“Good,” he said, “Now we just need someone to open the door.”



Danilov waited until the helicopter had dropped the sarcophagus safely on the stern of the ’Wavecrest’ before leaving. He knew that Von Werner’s attention would be totally absorbed by the artefact and he was sure he wouldn’t be missed. He had unfinished business. He couldn’t stop thinking about the girl. He couldn’t get the image of her nipples straining against her vest out of his head. He felt himself harden at the thought and he knew as he descended the stairs that one way or another he had to have her. He was hoping that Dennis was still out cold. He would have to bind him if not. A sick grin spread itself across his face.

‘Maybe I should make him watch’

He turned the corner of the corridor and saw the guard he’d posted. The guard was alert and saw Danilov approaching.

“Has there been any trouble?” the Russian asked.

“No sir.”

“You’re relieved.”

“Yes Sir.”

The guard raced past Danilov, only too keen to be away from him. He sprinted up the stairs and was gone. Danilov checked the corridor, there was no one else near.

Inside the cabin Peter Dennis and Natalie were just remaking the bunk. He had successfully hidden the piece of metal pipe down the side of the single mattress so it would be easy to get to but not noticeable unless a thorough search was made. They stopped and both looked towards the door.

“Did you hear voices?” he whispered.

She nodded and whispered back.

“I think so.”

He put his finger to his lips and then pointed to the window. She moved to it as he quickly lay back on the bunk. The door was unlocked and though she was shaking she turned slowly. Danilov entered the cabin. He took in her figure. A quick glance at Dennis who was laying as before.

“Has he woken at all?”

She shook her head.

He nudged Dennis who only groaned, gave a half snore and didn’t move again.

“You did hit him really hard,” she said stepping towards him. She squeezed his upper arm, feeling his biceps.

“You must be so strong,” she said, “I love strong men.”

“Eh!”

Danilov wasn’t sure he was hearing correctly. He suddenly reached forward and grabbing her around the waist he pulled her towards him. She let out a small squeal. He tried to kiss her but she turned her head. He pressed his face into her hair and smelled it. She pretended to warm to his touch. She managed to look round him, at the bunk. Dennis was watching. Danilov started to turn to see what she was looking at but she pulled his face back, gave him a wink, and dropped to her knees in front of him. He felt her fondling at his zip and he closed his eyes and put his head back. A large grin spread across his mouth as the zip was pulled down fast.

Dennis hit him as hard as he could across the back of the head with the pipe. Danilov’s eyes flashed open and he bellowed in pain. Natalie dived out of the way. Stunned and dazed Danilov tried to turn while fumbling for his handgun. Natalie wrestled it off him as Dennis hit him hard again. A strange animal sound was coming from his mouth. Slowly the Russian sank to his knees. Dennis hit him hard for a third time across the back of the head and this time the iron pipe shattered. The big man pitched forward onto his face. His dark blood pumped across the floor of the cabin. He twitched twice and was still. Blood coming from his ears, nose and mouth. Dennis’ hands were stinging from the blows. He studied the shattered pipe.

“Is he dead?” Natalie asked.

“I hope so or he’s going to be in one hell of a mood when he wakes up.”

Natalie suddenly found herself pointing the Glock handgun at the back of the Russian’s head. Dennis threw what was left of the pipe still in his hands onto the bed. He saw her hands shaking, holding the, to her, strange weapon.

“Bastard!” she said, “How dare you put your hands on me.”

“Go on,” Dennis said, “Pull the trigger. Two seconds and it will all be over.”

She pointed the pistol harder, the muscles in her arms taut. Then she started sobbing and the gun was lowered. Dennis held her close while she cried into his chest.

“Let it all out,” he said soothingly.

“I feel dirty.”

She rushed over to the tiny wash basin and turned the tap and frantically began scrubbing her hands.

“I….I….need to wash my hands,” she continued, her tears dripping from her cheeks. Dennis knew how she was feeling.

“Natalie we need to go,” he said kindly.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to wash this off.”

He took her hands and held them up to her face.

“Look at them,” he shook them firmly, “Look at them!”

She took her eyes off his to look at her hands.

“See,” he said, “No blood.”

“I’ve never seen anyone killed before.”

“Just remember Danilov wouldn’t have thought twice about killing you or raping you or killing me. He would have done it with a smirk on his face. Do you agree?”

She looked at the prone body on the floor. Then she felt stupid for her tears.

“Yes I know he would.”

“It was him or me.”

“Yes.”

He grabbed her hand and went for the door.

“Come on,” he said, leading the way.

Outside the cabin the corridor was empty. Dennis released the safety catch on the Glock and led her out into the passageway to the end. They paused at the bottom of the stairs. Dennis motioned for her to stay back and he ascended slowly to the next deck. The coast was clear and he waved her up. They waited together at the top of the stairs.

“You know you played your part well, back then I mean, with Danilov. You should have been an actress.”

“Who said I was acting.”

Now he glared at her. His mouth open. She smiled.

“I’m joking.”

“That’s a relief!”

For a moment he’d thought she was serious.

“Is the way clear?”

“I think so.”

She was about to go first but he stopped her.

“Wait!”

He pulled her back. A door had opened halfway along the corridor. It was a guard coming out of the lavatory. Dennis knew he had to move now or when the door closed they would be seen. The man turned and closed the door and glanced up as Dennis crashed into him. Dennis punched him twice in the face forcing the man around. Dennis grabbed his forehead from behind and pulled him to the ground. The guards head hit the floor with a sickening smack.

“Quick! Help me get him back into the toilet.”

Natalie approached slowly.

“Is he dead too?”

Dennis paused. The man’s chest was still moving.

“No just unconscious. Get his legs for me.”

Together they bundled the inert form into the cramped cubicle. Dennis quickly unbuttoned his own shirt, took off the man’s black shirt and put it on. He lifted the strap of the Heckler and Koch MP5 over the guards shoulders and checked it for ammunition. It was a full clip. He took the Glock out of his pocket.

“Do you know how to use one of these.”

She was absolutely terrified but knew she had no choice but to take it.

“If you need to fire it just release this,” Dennis demonstrated by releasing the safety catch, “point it and pull the trigger. The recoil will snap your hand and arm back so use both hands ok.”

“No.”

“You’ll be fine.”

He crammed the guard’s black cap down onto his head.

“This should fool them long enough for me to act if we’re caught.”

He closed the toilet door and made for the stairs.

“We need to get to the top deck to use your phone. Stay close to me.”

They sprinted up the steps to the next level. Natalie keeping as close to him as she could. Terrified as she was she couldn’t help smiling at the rush of adrenalin. She felt safe with Dennis, she knew he’d get them out of this somehow.

They made it to the top deck and huddled out of sight. Dennis took her phone from her. The screen was still showing no signal. He tried calling out but it was still jammed. A quick glance from cover revealed that all attention from the ’Wavecrest’ crew was focused on the sarcophagus which was being covered with a tarpaulin ready for its long journey to wherever Von Werner was taking it. Dennis checked again and seeing no one was near he grabbed Natalie’s hand and ran out into the open making for the nearest containers and cover. They stopped dead in their tracks as two Tunisian fighter planes screamed past on the starboard side. The noise was deafening. Everyone on the ’Wavecrest’ had stopped what they were doing to watch them. The Lynx helicopter was halfway between the two ships carrying a crate of the artillery shells. As the noise from the planes receded the sound of a siren drifted across the water. Tunisian navy gunboats were heading towards them. Behind the boats the port of Gabes.

An anguished roar of pain came from behind Natalie and Dennis. They spun around. Danilov was in the doorway, blood covering half his face. Dennis raised the MP5 but Danilov fired first. The G36 spluttering once. The bullet caught Dennis high in the right arm, spinning him and throwing him to the deck. The MP5 clattering out of reach.

“Peter!” Natalie screamed.

She started to run to him but Danilov caught her in two strides. He threw his machine gun down and slapped her hard across the face stunning her. She fell to the deck. Dennis looked up at the bright blue sky. High overhead seagulls were circling. He turned his head. The bullet had scraped his arm. There was a little blood, nothing more. But it burned. Then he saw Natalie’s head bounce off the deck. A low growl escaped his lips. Like an automaton he got to his feet. He rushed at Danilov and hammered blows into the big man’s ribs and face. He succeeded in making the Russian stagger back a step or two. Then Danilov stood his ground and smashed his fist into the English man’s face. Dennis was sent flying. Danilov hawked and spat blood. The pain in his head was excruciating. He rushed at Dennis and catching hold of him by the shirt he picked him up and threw him fifteen feet across the deck. There could be no doubt now. This fight was to the death. Danilov wouldn’t stop now until Dennis was dead. Of that the journalist was sure.

Von Werner’s attention had been taken up by the approaching Navy boats. One of his men tapped him on the shoulder.

“Eh?”

Von Werner turned and now saw the fight. He saw the girl laying on the deck also watching. Danilov stomped to where Dennis lay and picking the Englishman up again he punched him in the face. A stream of spittle and blood splashed the deck from Dennis’ mouth. Danilov threw him across the deck again and followed closely behind. This time he kicked Dennis in his previously injured ribs. Dennis did a barrel roll, now he was winded. Danilov kicked him again and again and again. Finally Dennis ended up on his back retching and coughing up blood.

Some of Von Werner’s men started to run towards the combatants but he put up a hand and stopped them.

“Wait!” he shouted.

It wouldn’t take Danilov long now to kill the lesser man and Von Werner smiled. Danilov was mocking Dennis. The cat that toys the mouse. He was taunting him though they were too far away for Von Werner to hear the words.

Dennis, on his knees, was very slowly getting to his feet. Danilov picked him up in both hands by the neck and began strangling him. Dennis, already winded, couldn’t breathe and he felt himself fading fast. He summoned up the last reserves of his strength and tried to tear away the hands that were throttling him but Danilov was too strong. Then in a last, supreme effort Dennis dug his fingertips into the large gash on the back of the large Russian’s head. He dug his fingers in so deep he felt warm blood gush over his hands. Danilov roared with pain and let go. Dennis scrabbled at the Russian’s military fatigues as he fell to the deck. Dennis’ lungs screamed for breath and he sucked in a large gulp of air with the vital seconds now afforded him. Danilov frantically wiped at the blood, his blood, flowing into his eyes, blinding him. Then he saw his prey and rushed at him, readying the kill. When he was two feet away Dennis suddenly sprang up and thumped him in the chest. Dennis hadn’t hit him that hard but Danilov suddenly sensed the blow had hurt him. He tried to pick Dennis up again but suddenly found he couldn’t move his left arm. His breath was now coming in short gasps. He tried to take a deep breath and felt fire in his throat. He saw his opponent slowly stand in front of him, suddenly unafraid of him. A look of puzzlement crossed the Russian’s brow. He felt tired, more tired than he ever had been before. A series of short pains racked his chest. He was having trouble breathing. He looked down and saw the hilt of the knife, his knife, sticking out of his chest. For the first time in his life he felt very afraid. He knew the knife had pierced his heart. Knew he was dying. He reached out a hand to Dennis.

“Help me please,” he said, his words faltering.

Dennis smirked at him then took a step back and placed a well aimed kick catching Danilov right between the legs. The huge Russian grunted and crashed to his knees. His eyes rolled upwards in his head and he pitched forward onto his face, driving the six inch blade deeper into his heart.

Dennis spat on the body.

“Go f*ck yourself!”

He heard Natalie sob once and holding his ribs he limped over to her and helped her up. The sound of someone clapping slowly made them turn. Von Werner was twenty paces away, his handgun levelled at them. Slowly he came on.

“What am I to do with you?”

He nodded as he passed the Russian’s corpse.

“Ah I see you have killed Danilov for me.”

“For you?” Dennis enquired.

“Why yes. You see Danilov has a rather large bounty on his head. I of course intended to collect it after my business here was done.”

Dennis was confused.

“I thought Danilov was your right hand man.”

“Oh he was. But you see my dear Mr Dennis he was becoming quite uncontrollable. He was what you English would call a, uh, yes, a loose cannon.”

He chuckled at his own humour.

“Yes I like that expression. You English are full of these sayings.”

“There’s another expression we’re fond of and you’re full of it.”

Von Werner pretended to be amused at this also.

“That’s very good Mr Dennis. Very good indeed. But as I was saying Danilov wasn’t working as a member of the team anymore. He acted against my instructions on more than one occasion and my men were unsettled.”

“Well in about five minutes time your men are going to be arrested by Tunisian special forces.”

“Oh really. Is that so? And exactly who do you think called the security services?”

Dennis thought for a moment. He had assumed that Ali on the ‘Volante’ had somehow got a signal out. Not for one second did he consider that Von Werner may have called them.

“You did it?”

Von Werner chuckled.

“I’m enjoying this,” he said, “That’s right Mr Dennis I called them.”

He threw his arms out in a gesture.

“After all why wouldn’t I. This is my ship, my crew, my personal army, my helicopter, my sarcophagus. So you can imagine my surprise at finding my head of security murdered by a journalist, a spy, a mercenary, call yourself what you will, and an archaeologist stowed aboard my ship trying to steal my property.”

“They’ll never believe it.”

“And then after you murdered my head of security Mr Danilov you were seeking out your next target. Me!”

“That’s ridiculous. I would never murder anyone.”

“But you did kill Mr Danilov.”

“That was in self defence.”

“Indeed it was.”

A strange look came over Von Werner’s face.

“But before he died, despite the knife in his chest, Mr Danilov managed to fire off some rounds which killed the renegade reporter and his very beautiful assistant the lovely Miss Feltham, before they could kill me. Such a waste,” he said sighing, trying to stroke her hair. She moved out of his reach.

“You’re mad.”

“On the contrary Mr Dennis. I am a genius.”

“Even geniuses can be mad you know.”

“I assure you I am not mad, just very clever. When you think about it I now have in my possession the most sacred artefact in archaeology and what have I had to do to get it? Hmm?” he asked them both individually, “Not much. You see you people did all the hard work for me. You explored all the wrecks, eliminating them one by one. You recovered the item. All I had to do was take it from you. Genius really, as I’ve already said. You know Miss Feltham it really is a shame that I have to kill you. I really would like to have you as part of my team. But I’m very sure you’d never agree to it somehow.”

“You’re dead right,” Dennis replied for her.

Von Werner pointed the gun in Dennis’ face.

“Dead being the appropriate word.”

“You’re missing one thing Herr Werner.”

The gun never wavered.

“And what is that?”

“It’s not the right sarcophagus.”

The eyebrows, sighting down the pistol, both went up.

“What?”

“It’s not Alexander’s sarcophagus,” Natalie cut in.

“Is this some sort of trick?”

“Look at it,” Natalie invited.

“It has to be the one,” Von Werner lowered the gun, “You took it from the ’Tangipito’. It has to be the one.”

“We did take it from the ’Tangipito’ but it’s the wrong sarcophagus. It was made for a Nectanebo. He was either a lesser pharaoh or just someone important but it’s not Alexander.”

Von Werner was shaking his head.

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie. You already have it. What would I gain for lying? You’re going to kill us for something that’s worthless.”

“Enough! Now you die!”

There was a sudden burst of machine gun fire and one of his men at the top of the steps from the middle deck went down, his chest riddled with bullets. A voice coming through a megaphone cut across the deck.

“This is the Tunisian navy. You are surrounded. Prepare to be boarded. Throw down your weapons.”

The Lynx helicopter hovered in low, carrying the last crate of shells from the ’Volante.’ It stopped directly above Von Werner. The 20mm cannons suddenly burst into life, strafing the top of the steps where Tunisian seals were preparing to ascend.

Von Werner was backing slowly away from Dennis and Natalie. He looked at the sarcophagus. He couldn’t believe his ears.

“Listen to her!” Dennis was shouting above the noise of the Lynx, “It’s not the right one!”

Von Werner was thinking of his grandfather.

“You poor man! You didn’t find it!”

The Lynx fired its machine guns again.

No one heard or saw the sidewinder missile that caught the Lynx in mid-air. The two jets screamed past again. The helicopter exploded and plummeted to the deck. Dennis grabbed Natalie and they dived for cover in the nick of time. The Lynx landed on the crate of shells and they exploded blasting Von Werner burning and screaming into the sea. The Tunisian seals rushed up the stairs and moved into formation.

“This is major Al-Assad. Throw down your weapons,” their officer said through his loudhailer.

Von Werner’s men did as they were told. They were quickly surrounded and the ’Wavecrest’ was made secure by more marines who stormed through the ship. A group of them rushed to tackle the burning Lynx. Jim Hutchinson suddenly appeared at the top of the steps. Dennis saw him first and he turned Natalie’s head. Her face broke into a large grin. They made their way to him and he met them halfway. He embraced them both.

“Are you both all right?”

Dennis kissed Natalie on the lips. Right there in front of everyone.

“I know I am,” he said.

They all laughed.

“It’s good to see you Jim.”

“What I don’t understand,” Dennis said, “Is that Von Werner called the authorities. How did you get here?”

“One of Ali’s men had a stomach upset and he was, well I don’t want to go into too much detail, coming out of the lavatory. He confronted one of Von Werner’s men. There were only a few left on board you see the others already having left. A fight ensued and our man was able to knock his opponent out and take his gun. He took another by surprise and gained another gun. With these the rest of the crew were able to overpower the rest. This done Captain Ali was able to sound the alarm using their equipment and divert Major Al-Assad’s task force to the ’Volante.’ Once we filled him in with the relevant details of what had happened he came to take the ‘Wavecrest’”

Another officer came on board. He was wearing military fatigues like his men. Unlike his men he was wearing a red beret and sunglasses. On his shoulders the rank of General. Major Al-Assad rushed up to him, saluted, and made his report. The General listened without interrupting then nodded when Al-Assad finished.

“Good work Major. Take these men into custody. Take this ship back to Gabes. Make arrangements for the other ship to be towed in if it can’t be repaired at sea. The crew may stay on it if they wish. Arrange hotel accommodation for them if necessary. We’d better keep them until the interior minister has spoken to them. Dismissed.”

Al-Assad saluted and rushed off to carry out his orders. The General glanced around the deck, his arms folded behind his back. Then he lowered his head and looked out over the top of his sunglasses. His eyes lit up and a huge grin spread across his face. He headed towards the group of three.

“Jim,” he called.

Hutchinson turned.

“Ben! Ben I don’t believe it.”

He shook the General’s hand vigorously.

Hutchinson saw the looks from Dennis and Natalie.

“Oh I’m sorry. Natalie. Peter. This is my friend Ben Rashid Al-Din. We were at university together.”

Al-Din nodded at Dennis and flashed strong white teeth at Natalie. Von Werner’s body was brought up on deck and dumped at the General’s feet. The skin had been burnt to a crisp and was now soaked. Where the skin was broken it bled. The once elegant white suit was blackened. Natalie couldn’t bear to look at the corpse and she turned her face away. General Ben Rashid Al-Din gazed down at the corpse. He nodded at one of his men to search the body.

“Do we know who he is?”

“His name is Count Otto Brest Von Werner. This is his ship.”

The man frisking the body reached inside the jacket and pulled out the brown leather bound book and handed it to the General.

“What’s this?” Al-Din said turning it over and undoing the little popper that held it shut. He thumbed through the pages.

“It’s mine,” Dennis said, “He took it from me,” he lied.

Al-Din studied the writing and sketches briefly and then handed it to the journalist.

“Very well Mr?”

“Peter Dennis General.”

Al-Din looked over the top of his sunglasses again.

“I believe I have heard your name.”

“Really?” Dennis doubted it.

“Yes it was….” The General glanced up at the sky in thought, “….Now I remember. There was an article in the Tunisian national newspapers about a Peter Dennis who said the tomb of Alexander the Macedonian was buried in my country. It was two days ago. Tell me have you found it yet?”

Hutchinson laughed. He clapped a hand on the General’s shoulder.

“That my friend is another story.”

Dennis watched Hutchinson and the General leave. He walked over to the sarcophagus.

’So many people have fought and died over this,’ he said to himself, ’and it was all for nothing. The Romans, the Germans, the British, Wurtz, Koenig, young Johnny Larder, Von Brest, Von Werner, my grandfather Alfred Dennis.’

For a moment he could almost hear his grandfather’s laughter. Natalie appeared alongside him and took his hand.

“Peter are you coming?”

He turned and smiled at her.

“Yes.”

Arm in arm they walked across the deck and down the stairs to the boat waiting below.