CHAPTER M: COFFEE IS THE NO.2 POWDER HERE

You know, this point marks a very healthy change in our attitudes towards each other, don't you think? A sort of teamwork? Don't get me wrong, I still want to see your guts in my hands but-


Shut up.


See? You always get touchy about the little things? Its what makes me wanna throw your guts to the dogs after I've just ripped them out, or-


Listen, you need to know that I didn't want this, its just that there really was no other way, and I'd thought of everything. There was no way I could escape from the Mossad. They had me under constant surveillance . Then again, the Mossad had all of its agents under constant surveillance, but I was a 'special case'. I could feel cameras all around me, and somehow, now I just happened to know where they were, just like that.


It's called elite training, you jackass, and you didn't have to run through those training tests, I had to haul our bloody ass across-


I'll admit it now, its probably the only good thing we learnt from the Mossad. We learnt how to survive everything else. In hindsight, you didn't screw up entirely


... Fuck you.


Erich Von Stahlien. 'The Butcher'. Third actually, the first two butchers having had as great careers that have now lead them to the grave. Stahlien, the Mossad felt, was overdue. I... he had done this before, he knew the tricks, he knew everything that would have accomplished the mission, fooled the Mossad, kept us alive. I couldn't trust him, but... what else could I do?


The first time I even suggested it, he flipped! Little cunt started screaming off the top of his head, threatening to blow it off! five seconds later, three guards kick the door open and barge in with hecklers at my head! Paranoid bitch, you are!


But after the second time,


And the third,


Fourth,


Fifteenth?


No, I think it was after some twenty times... I relented.


You know it was the only was we could live.


I do, but I can't believe I had to sell my soul for it.


Ha! You jackass! ...You did that a long time ago. 


Erich Von Stahlien. I almost forgot about him. By the time Hitler offed himself, Stahlien was already out of the country. He had seen the fall early, and sold out to the Russians, giving up secret stashes of treasures and weapons, totaling up to some 17 million in USD. A lot back then, a hell of a lot. In return, the Russians did him a favor and 'killed' him, then under complete secrecy had the KGB ship him out of Russia and into India, from where he disappeared for some sixty years. Intel had reports of him in South Africa during the seventies and a hit-and-grab was attempted. Failed badly, almost got public. Now he's in Colombia. Intel says he's been there for almost a decade, providing advice and experience to the new-rising cartels.


Stahlien boasted to me that he had been here before Escobar.


Stahlien was smart. Figures he was a Nazi. He knew something was off with us. Saw almost all the way through.


Didn't stop you from shooting him in the head, though, did it?


Nope, not a bit.


Mossad wanted him back in Israel. Alive. It wasn't impossible, it had been done before. Only this time the target was surrounded by one of the most powerful and dangerous criminal organizations in the world. The owners, suppliers and masters of cocaine. The Cartels. With a kilo of pure cocaine selling for $60,000 to $70,000 across the water, the Cartel spend hundred of millions equipping their private armies with enough weapons to level a city. And with each addict added, the money bills grew even higher. Which brought us to our number two man.  


Nilano Mosquera. Mossad told us he was the new Don of the North Valley Cartel, the biggest Cartel in Colombia. The previous Don had been caught, tried, and imprisoned. And then someone offed him in jail. Leaving the seat open for Mosquera to take control. Of course, he was advised on almost everything by Von Stahlien. As was the Don before him. And the one before him. All the way to Escobar.


Like I said, smart. Stahlien was gifted, the ultimate traitor. He knew just when to change sides, and he comes out beautiful because of it. And when he helped you, more often than not you became the head of all the pure coke in the world. It's probably why every half-decent gangster in that shit-hole wants to lick his wrinkly old ass to get him on their side. Its made of fucking gold.


When Mossad finally-


Oh shut up, you still don't know jack about how it went on. Choosing Katsas is never a problem. All of them could kill you in creative ways, were trained for way longer than I was, and would die in a second for their country. Losers. I picked the first three from the folder and met them only on the flight to Colombia.


But as for the drop. Parachuting into the night jungle is never fun. But Mossad likes to make you do it. Fucking Katsas would have jumped without a parachute if asked. That's the one thing I hated about being there. The Mossad let you have fun, but kept the kiddy gloves on sometimes. We had to infiltrate the target's mansion at night. Sneak in, bag, sneak out. No explosions.


Sneaking in? Not a problem. There were guards, only guards. Not even a single dog. Though I could see three machine guns held up behind sand bunkers. Two on the grounds, and one on the roof. The closest guard was already dead at my feet, neck broken. I passed him on backwards to where the last man would hide his body under a bush. Quick. Silent. We were inside the building in minutes, having crept in through the open French doors. With little time left, we headed up the stairs, kicked down the door and-


"Welcome."


He stood there with his back to us, looking out of a huge widow that framed the entire wall. He was holding something in his hand, and when he turned around I saw that it was a glass of sherry. I felt the katsas raising their guns, and I knew he drill.


You shout, you die. You have crimes to pay for, Von Stahlien and-


"I have crimes to pay for? My boy, I know excatly what I have to pay for." All trace of German was lost from his accent, it was perfect fucking Oxford. But as I looked at him, I could see a weariness, a tired old man who really did want to give up.


"You took your time, gentlemen," He continued. "But I have been patient. I am ready for this, I was a long time ago. Please, don't waste time."


And as we rushed forward, an army of guards burst our of the closet, every door, from behind us, even the windows. In seconds we were nailed to the ground, weapons snatched. The bastard had even trained them to get to our mouths so fucking quickly that we couldn't even swallow the cyanide pills in our jaws.


Stahlien's got a sweet smile on his face, and the old bastard walks up like he's asking us out for a fucking date.


"Now, you will tell him who sent you. And then we will see what to do with their silly mistake."


My turn.

CHAPTER L: SPY VS. SPY

I was in a room. I don't know for how long, but I was in a room in the corner of my mind. There was nothing there, just a single light that shone brightly. The walls were brightly painted in white, so bright that they seemed to shine. I was dressed in a simple shirt and pants, as white as the walls around me. I feel my chin, there's a stubble... just how long was I there?

The room wasn't very big. Big enough to sleep in, but without any bed. I never felt sleepy, or tired that ways, but when was day, when was night. I wasn't sure if it was a second, or an hour that passed, I couldn't tell anything...

It was like time had died.

I tried breaking the walls once, just thumping at the in anger, frustration. My fists, they never got hurt, just sort of bounced off the walls. This was like solitary in heaven, and I didn't know what to do.

At times I heard sounds, so close I could have sworn they were right behind me. Someone shouting, some screams... it was like they were so close, yet so far off, like whispers around me. I didn't know what I hated more, the silence or that.

The funny thing was when it all came to an end. I blinked once, and I was sitting on a bed in another room, this one with normal walls. There was a mirror, in front of me, and I could see my face staring back at me under a dirty orange light.

The first thing that surprised me was the scar. Just the tip of it was visible from the opening of my shirt collar. I felt through the fabric, and could feel it running down the side of my chest, all the way down to my stomach.

I hope you're still not pissed about that.

There was a sword in my chest, you jackass, what do yo think?

I still got us out of it.

And into what? Of all the things you could have done, what made you go and sign up with the fucking-

Shut it. I know you enjoyed it too.

Enjoyed it? I was stuck there, with no idea of how I had even gotten there, and I had to bluff my way through DAGAN!!! IT'S A BLOODY MIRACLE HE DIDN'T FIGURE IT OUT THE FIRST FUCKING TIME!!

We got out in the end, didn't we? And look at what all we've learnt. The best part, is that we fucking fooled them. The assholes think we're dead. 


They'll find out soon enough. They always end up knowing. But we're getting too far ahead.

The room had a dirty look to it, and there was a large metal door set into one of the walls. I went toward it and reached for the handle, turning it open. Outside, I could see a long corridor lit by a series of bulbs in the ceiling, illuminating the many doors set into the walls of the corridor, as well as the fully armed soldier who stood right in front of me

He saluted and jumped to attention, informing me that the director was waiting for me. I dumbly nodded, and walked past him, frantically trying to understand where the hell I was. By the time I reached the end of the corridor, to where it split into two, I had a rough idea of where I was. It was some sort of military base, where I couldn't tell, and I knew that for some reason, I wasn't here as a prisoner, which was again very hard for me to wrap my head around.

But it was the writing on the wall that did it. There, at the point where the corridor split into two was a board with various signs, pointing to the mess, communications room, interrogation center, research center, and so on until I could see the direction for the Director's office. The first that I noticed, was that everything was written in Hebrew, which then got me thinking when the hell had I learnt Hebrew. But it was the symbol of candles surrounded by wording that hit me like a thunderbolt. Or more accurately, the words written below it. 


HaMossad leModi'in uleTafkidim Meyuchadim 


Mossad. I was in the fucking Mossad.


I'll never forget those few seconds. I couldn't move. A single trickle of sweat trickled down the side of my face as I read those words again and again, trying hard to make something else of them. But all I could see was the name of  possibly the deadliest institute for intelligence and special operations in the world. 


And I was stuck in it.


Stuck? Bullshit, they wanted us there.


I was trying to figure to what to do, when I remembered the soldier's words. Silently, I headed left towards the Director's Office, now all the while wondering whether they were currently watching me or not.


The Mossad is Israel's answer to the CIA, to the KGB, the MI6. Formed in 1949, it has quickly risen to become one of the most feared agencies, having carried out numerous assassinations, rescues and infiltrations beyond Israel's borders. And those were just the ones the public knew about.


Trust me, I know this, but the Mossad are just scary. When you take the most fanatical people from a country of soldiers and train them in the arts of secrecy and murder, then you end up with some seriously fucked up people. They have access to information that no other agency knows, their sources are almost everywhere in the world. The bloody Mossad always knows. When on a mission, the Mossad doesn't care about anything but one thing, and one thing only: Israel herself. And they are willing to do anything, cross any line to protect it.


The Mossad are awesome! It was like I'd finally fond a place to be me! I don't know why I hadn't just gone there in the first place. It was a hell of a lot better that Hong Kong, for sure. 


I was still stuck in Germany, but I was getting so bored that I was stuck surfing the net. A opened a few articles on the attempt on the Queen'n life. Authorities were still combing the land, now spreading to other countries in Europe in collaboration with their governments. Took them long enough to do so. One of the articles even had a picture of me from the window. But it was taken so badly, that all you could tell was that it was a man, which narrows the search by about fifty percent.


But I was popular. The police, the MI6, the entire Royal Marines, even the SAS were after me. After some negotiations, the Italians, Germans and French joined in as well, but the French have been after me for years already, so it was no big deal really. 


But I'll admit that Europe was getting quite hot, and a shift was needed, though where to? See, this is the problem I always end up facing. When you have over a hundred countries in the world, which one to go to? So I started looking around, checking out possibilities. But I just couldn't decide. I almost threw the laptop out of the window in frustration.


I opened up the articles on the Queen attempt as well, scrolling down until I found a paragraph.


"Still no words from any authorities on the status of the manhunt for what the public is calling, 'The Assassin'. Despite visible evidence that not just Britain, but now many countries are utilizing their resources to hunt this man down, he has still managed to evade capture, which leads many to believe that he could be part of a certain intelligence agency of some foreign country, or at least has received training by said intelligence agency, though there is no credible evidence to prove this."


I smiled at that. Gotta love those idiots in the crowd who'll see a burning man fall to his death and think its a stunt jump. So, now I was a spy, or at least, I was thought to be one.


And that's what got me thinking. I'd like to be a spy, I wouldn't be bad at it. It was a nice thought, one of the most wanted men in the world now becoming a secret force for justice. 


But whose justice?


Two days later, I sent a mail. I got a reply back, to which I sent another mail, then I patiently waited. The phone rang exactly thirty seconds later.


I picked up. The voice on the other side spoke first.


"This line is secure. You can speak freely."


"Can I? You already know what I have to say. But I want to know your answer."


"If you are this man, we could arrest you within the hour, send you to London with a nice bow tie around your neck."


"I'm not that easy to catch."


The voice on the line chuckled. "We are better than the British, we do not fail so often."


"True, but I can still get by you if I have to."


I could hear the arrogance on the other side. "We will see..."


Just as I expected, the windows burst in a hail of glass as four men, dressed in black armor, leaped through the windows and landed on the floor, weapons ready and targeting through the room. 


But I was already behind the first one. I punched him in the shoulder, making him loosen his grip on his weapon. I then kicked the back of his shin, almost breaking it as he fell crashing to the ground. I grabbed his gun and shot the other three in their legs before I turned the barrel down on the guy below me, who was clutching his leg in pain. 


A phone strapped to his Kevlar jacket began to ring, I took it and spoke into the receiver.


"Did you like my audition?"


There was another voice on the line now, this one older. "No deaths. Very impressive. We will have a plane ready for you. Board it, come here."


"You won't hand me over?"


"We are still debating on that, though it is agreed that yo would be...useful to us. Board the plane. Come to Jerusalem. We will talk more on your arrival."


You should have never boarded the plane. Hell, you should have never sent that mail in the first place. 


Listen, the Mossad was like home to me, and Dagan may have been a cunt, I'll admit to that, but he knew how to get the job done. I can respect that.


I still remember the first time. The second he saw me, he paused and I could see him frowning. He knew something was wrong, but he still spoke.


"Sit down, Michael."


It took a moment for me to realize who he was talking to, but I nodded and sat. He took his time, pouring himself a glass, downing it, then pouring another one for me and himself.


"England called again." He said.


My eyebrows went up.


"As always, I told them that our reports revealed nothing on their mystery assassin. But we would search eagerly, as always."


He gave a sly smile. "They tried bribing us this time, offered us two Merlins for our 'efforts'. But I said no to the choppers. Israel does not want to be in debt to the Queen, nor do we think that you have outlived your usefulness."


I dumbly nodded, not sure of what to say.


He noticed that. "Why so silent today, Michael? Normally you can never stop speaking rubbish, threatening me with revealing state secrets, or promising to assassinate my mother." He gave a grin. "Though in all honesty, I would not mind you shooting my mother."


I smiled weakly at that. What else could I do?


"Anyways," he continued. "On to business. I know you came back from Argentina only last week, but we need to send you out again. We've found another one, and he'll be a little tricky."


He lifted a remote and pressed a button, pointing towards a wall in his office. It was actually a screen, and an image of an old man appeared. His white-blond hair was well groomed, and I could see gold chains and rings around his pudgy neck and fingers. His blue eyes shone with intensity, the evil kind.


"Von Sthahelin. Erich Von Sthahelin. Over thirty thousand Jews were tortured and then murdered under his authority. In the span of five months. After the end, he went into hiding, just like the rest. We finally fond him though."


Dagan turned to face me. "And this is where the tricky part comes in. Sthahelin is in Colombia. Worse, he is still in business, helping the Cartels their get richer through their cocaine trade. Which means he has their protection. Though I'm sure that won't be too much of  a problem for you."


I finally spoke. "Problem?"


"Yes. The usual please. You need to capture Erich Von Sthahelin and bring him back here for interrogation and then sentencing. As always, the usual resources are at your disposal, and you may choose any three Katsas, apart from yourself, to assist you. You will be leaving in three days."


And with that, the Director of the Mossad turned back to his paperwork, a signal for me to leave.       

CHAPTER @#%&! : FREEDOM!!!

Welcome!

Welcome to the best time if my life. Alone. All alone in this body with no one else to share it. I was so happy that I could have giggled.

Not that I did, of course.

The train sped through the winter countryside, passing through gray fields under equally gray clouds. The unbroken seas of dead grass was broken by the occasional tree, with its ugly, naked branches clawing at the sky.

I loved the view.

I got off at some station called Hanover Hauptbahnhof. I don't remember why, I think its cause I saw some cute chicks at the platform. The train sped off after its stop, I had already forgotten about it. I had left the station and was now walking into a large square, with some statue of a guy on a horse with its ass faced towards me. Nice way to greet tourists.

I walked on past the square and into the city. This was Hanover (yes, dumbass, the station was named after the city), and I had no idea why the hell I was here. So the first thing I did was hail a cab.

"Wohin?" He asked.


"Ich muss zum Flughafen fahren." I replied. "Schnell."

He nodded, and I sat inside. We got onto the Autobahn, and the driver assured me that we would reach the airport in under twenty minutes, unless of course, I would like to somewhere else.

Why the hell not?


I asked him where the fun places in town were.


He gave a sly smile. "Sie suchen eine Freundin? Ich kann Ihnen die. Guter Preis, Gute Mädchen."

I smiled at that too. German chicks were hot. "Geschehen."

He took the first cut back into the city, taking the cab deeper and deeper back into Hanover. I checked my wallet. Out of the six hundred thousand I had gotten from the fat-fuck, I had just about two hundred left, enough for a couple of nights on the town, at least.

The man finally dropped me off at a three story building, easily as wide as it was tall, if not more. This had to be the place. I knocked on the door, and after a minute, it opened.


A girl stood there, blonde and curious. At that second, I knew I would be banging her. She opened the fully, now smiling slightly at me. Yeah, the bitch knew why I was here. She grabbed me by the hand and lead me into a huge room, easily two stories large with inner balconies lining the walls, all the while chatting gaily in German. I just nodded and looked around, spotting a red head looking coolly down at me from one of the balconies.

Screw the blonde, I wanted this one.


But then I felt someone else by my side, and I turned to see another girl, smiling coyly at me as she twisted her arms with mine, whispering into my ears. I replied by tightly grabbing her ass and whispering back. This was an all-you-can-eat-buffet, and I had no clue where to start.


"Jetzt, jetzt! Lassen Sie ihn sein! Lasst uns mit ihm reden."

I turned to the sound of the voice. Another woman, this one older than the rest, walked into the room, smiling at me as well. But while the others were giving me dirty, naughty looks, this one's smiled was the dirtiest of all glowing brightly in the face of a potential customer.


"Welcome to the 'Mansion der Liebe', sir." She beamed. "We hope you will spend the night."

"Ich habe vor ein paar Ausgaben." I replied.

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. "Pardon me, but your German is very good. Yet I do not think you are from here."


"I'm just passing by. And I'd like a pit stop."


She smiled at that. "Of course you would, you must be tired yes?"


She turned to one of the girls. "Montieren Sie alle schnell! Wir haben einen Gast bei uns heute Abend."

The girl quickly nodded and sped through one of the doors. I stood there, now alone with her. The other girls had disappeared as well. The brothel owner took me by the arm, leading me into another room as well, all the while chatting some bullshit about the place's history.

"... even during the Third Reich, the Manison der Liebe still held its status, and even entertained many officers amongst its halls. But enough of this, as you are obviously interested in something else."


We'd reached a large pair of double doors, which after a quick wink at me, she opened. 

"I hope," She said. "That you will have a good time."



I opened my eyes, and stared at the full moon above me. There were a few clouds in the air, slowly billowing across it. The blonde snuggled against my arm, sleeping deeply. The red head still lay on top of me, asleep as well. I slowly pushed her off me and stood up, staring at the view through massive french windows. Seeing the city lights stretch for miles.

I had booked three and taken them to the best room in the highest hotel. Now I was thinking of how to blow the top three floors off, one for each chick. But you generally don't find high-grade explosives in a hotel penthouse, so it was just a bloody daydream.

Life was good. I was happy. And no one had to die yet. Except for the third girl, I knew I should have taken a brunette instead. 

I had three more weeks before he came back, though I didn't know it at the time. People say that you don't get much free time in life. Until now, I never had it. And as I looked out at the city, I realized that it was probably the best thing in life.

After sex. And explosions. And breaking a neck. And running for your life. And-

Alright, so maybe its not the best thing in life, but it definitely makes top ten.

CHAPTER K: GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!

I'm a little excited cause I get to start it this time. Normally he's the one talking in the beginnings, and I have to stay shut and listen to his crap. But now he's the one stuck in the room and I get to talk about this. 

I had spent the last few weeks doing nothing. Well, there were enough of bitches and booze, but nothing fucking productive. I hadn't even punched a guy in the past five days, let alone slit his throat and throw the body off a building. I needed a bang, something big enough to get the world's attention. This wasn't the first time I had thought about this, I had made so many plans of mass destruction. But no, I didn't want to blow anything yet, I needed something without using C4, but just as effective in sending a message to the world.

And then I saw her face. And I knew what to do.

It'd be perfect, all I needed to do was figure out the details, and that would barely take any time. By the end of the week everything was ready.

The M110 Semi-Automatic Sniper System is manufactured by the Knight's Armament Company in Titusville, Florida. The system incorporates a Leupold 3.5–10× variable power daytime optic, Harris swivel bipod, AN/PVS-14 night sight and PALs magazine pouches. The rifle has ambidextrous features such as a double-sided magazine release, safety selector switch, and bolt catch. The magazine can hold 10 or 20 rounds and has an effective range of 800 meters. The bullet will rip through a car door and out the other and. All this made the SASS the second deadliest rifle in 2007.

Heh... So  this is what love feels like. Ma, I'm a gettin' married.


The rifle felt perfect in my arm as I glanced out of the window. The parade had started to drive by, but her carriage was still hidden from sight. A full battalion of special force soldiers marched past, their suits crisp and their boots shining. I resisted the temptation to throw a few grenades into their lot, I had to wait for the mother-load. 


Once again, I glanced out of the window at the buildings around me. I could see the tell-tale signs of others snipers positioned around the street, it was their job to protect. I had chosen well, the twelfth floor of the office building was deserted. Everyone was downstairs, eager to join the celebrations. I was hidden behind the reflective glass, and covered in a layer of camo-foil to hide my heat signature. I had done my research very well.


Only the tiny scope and barrel peered out into the streets below, patiently waiting.


You should have seen how excited I was. This was my fucking moment, and I hated him so much for ruining it.


I didn't have a choice.


Bullshit. You could have let me take the shot, then taken control. Or better still, you should have just let me be. You even did a fucked up job of escaping, and I had to pull our ass outta there. Shit man, you should just crawl back inside and never come back out. You don't even know how to treat this body.


And you do?


Saved our asses every single fucking time I took over, cleaned up every mess you made.


HOW THE HELL WAS HONG KONG A MESS, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE! EXPLAIN TO ME-


Crap, not this again. Listen, just carry the fuck on, will you. Stop crying over that already. Plus, they already know about Hong Kong, they want to know about now. Tell them.


................. alright.


Thank you.


Fuck off.


I blinked. I could feel my finger already pulling on the trigger, and through the scope, I could see-

Oh shit.

As I realized what was happening, I could feel the trigger pressing backwards. I think he was still controlling that hand, but I'm not sure. So what else could I do? I moved the rifle just as the trigger was pulled back and the 7mm bullet hissed through the air.

Do you know what happens if you move a sniper rifle while trying to fire it? Its not very pleasant. The recoil, which is supposed to be absorbed by your shoulder, instead came down with all its force on my collarbone. It didn't break, but I could swear I heard a slight crack, and for a second was paralyzed by the pain.

As soon as I could, I looked through the scope, frantically trying to see if I had hit her. I breathed a sigh of relief when I could see the Queen, now under the protection of an army of agents, being rushed from her royal carriage to safety.

The next second, the world around me erupted in a shower of glass and plaster as dozens of bullets burst through the window. I gasped in pain as I took two in my left thigh and another that passed straight through the fleshy part of my shoulder. I fell backwards, crashing to the ground, as I could hear even more bullets rush through. Over it I could hear the steady thump of a helicopter, growing closer and closer.

They say that when you're near death, your body automatically blocks out pain and boosts your senses and strength. I can certify that when you're near death, you're pretty much the same, only shitloads more scared.

I pulled myself to my feet. Using the walls as support, I hobbled away from the windows, across the building floor until I came over to the other side. The sound of the chopper was directly above me, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before the doors burst open to reveal squads of men in black Kevlar with very large guns. I had left the sniper rifle where I had fallen, so painfully with my good hand, I drew out my Colt and shot at the windows on the other side of the building. The glass didn't shatter, but I knew that the bullets would have weakened it considerably.

I rolled a chair through it for good measure, sending it flying out of the window in a shower of glass.

Heh...Déjà vu

I could hear footsteps behind me. The would be here any second now. In front of me was my only escape route, and it didn't look good. This side of the building overlooked the Thames, which at this time of the year had patches of frozen ice floating on top of it. And this jackass had chosen a building which directly overlooked such a patch.


Alright, so my research wasn't perfect.


The wind blew through the opening, and I shivered. The pain in my shoulder and leg were about to make me pass out, and I could barely move. But yeah, I jumped. Fell is more like it. I could feel the wind rushing by, this strange feeling of weighting nothing and a thousand pounds at the same time, and the ice just grew closer and closer until all that I could see was the white...

I was lucky enough for me to break through. I wasn't lucky enough to stay there, as the current sent me swirling away from the hole and under the unbroken sheets. The pain in my limbs wasn't there anymore. And that scared me. I knew that the numbness only meant that I was freezing to death.


Unless the drowning beat me to it.


My lungs were screaming for air. I tried hard to break at the ice, but it was too thick over here, having spent weeks freezing to a solid layer over the water. The current was stronger now, and was pulling me down, away from the surface. Whatever oxygen I had was all but spent, and I resisted the desire to breathe in, forcing myself to calm down. Wasn't working. My senses began to dull, it grew darker, and the cold seemed to wrap itself around me as it grew darker and colder and darker and...

I think... I think I died.


And I was hoping you'd have stayed that way. Do you know what it was like not having you around? It was one of the best fucking times of my life. Scratch that, it was the fucking best time of my life. You were gone, and the second I took over, once again I had to get us out of the mess you'd gotten us into.


I got us into?! Me?! You asshole, you tried to kill the Queen, not me, if you hadn't even been there in the first place, we-


Yeah, yeah. Well as it turns out, God did save the Queen, and left us at the bottom of the Thames to boot. See? I told you he was an jackass.


Just shut up and continue.


Well, now's there's not that much to tell, you got the best part. Unlike this pansy here, I know how to swim properly, and I know that you don't fight the fucking current, you flow with it. I just had to hold on until the water swept us away from the ice to a part of the river that still hadn't frozen over. And while you were locked away inside, I reached the surface, got away safely, broke into a vet clinic, took out the bullets, and bandaged our-self up. And then after three packets of dog biscuits, I passed out.


I woke up to a screaming lady. The nurse had come in to open up all the rooms, and was more than a little surprised to see a bandaged man passed out in Exam Room 3. I quickly snapped her neck, before grabbing my clothes and quickly stepped out. The clinic was still deserted, and I left there, heading down the street. I picked up a newspaper on the way. The Headlines read, "ASSASSINATION ATTEMPT ON QUEEN FOILED, SUSPECT DISAPPEARED UNDER THAMES. SEARCH CONTINUES."

That was the worst part of the whole damn thing and I hated how he had stopped me from pulling it off. But every cloud has a silver lining, and this one was pure fucking gold. He was dead! Dead, and now this body was mine. I laughed with joy, startling the people walking around me. But I didn't care because now I was free! Free to what I wanted, whenever, however! This was better than sex, better than death.

This was freedom.

That is, of course, until you came back.

I had to.

Bastard.

CHAPTER J: I'M SORRY ABOUT THIS, I REALLY AM

Before I continue, I need to make a few things clear.

Firstly, I am not a bad person. I'll admit to doing a lot of bad things, but those were acts of necessity, never pleasure. I don't like what I sometimes get involved in, but I have no choice.

Before he continues, I also need to make a few things clear.


Whatever he said? Pretty much the opposite for me.

Secondly, when I look back at everything, there's just so much of the good and bad, that its hard for me to tell which from which. Could working for the Triads be a good thing, if you were part of a family? Would saving a international company be a bad thing if you had to kill a few dozen innocents to do it? There were shades of gray in everything I've done.

Ah, we're just wasting time with this. No matter what I say now, it won't change what happened. And instead of trying to make myself feel better, I might as well just get on with it. When a man takes you into his family, when you have no place to go, no other choice to make, and when you actually make something out of the life he gives you, you know you owe him all that you have, all that you are.

Money was such a man, and I killed him.

Jacinto was also such a man.

I nervously stood at the road side corner. Our hotel was only half a mile away, and I was uncomfortable about doing the trade here. But I had no choice. They chose the exchange point, I could only say yes. Jacinto was still in the shower when I left. By now, he would have found out, which meant I didn't have much time. I'd board a flight today, and get out of this bloody country for good.

Rahid came, alone like he said he would. He had a duffel bag in his left hand, and he handed it towards me, as I pushed forward the box that contained the panel. He knelt to pick it up, bending down on his knees.

My hand whipped out the Colt and slammed the butt of the gun on the back of his head. Rahid crumpled like a pile of bricks as he fell to the floor. I paused for a second, till date I'm still not sure what made me do that. But it was only for a second. I hoisted the duffel bag over my shoulder, picked up the panel, and ran for my life.

I had only made it a few steps, when I heard the car screech around the corner. Two rifle-totting bastards leaned out of the windows, taking aim. I fell to the floor as bullets tore away at the wall behind me, taking aim from the ground. I shot once, twice, thrice. The last two bullets went straight to the driver's chest. Now a dead weight on the gas, I watched as the car kept on speeding.

Right towards me.

Swearing, I leaped to the side to avoid becoming roadkill. The car shot over the pavement and crashed into the building on the other side. The driver was dead, the gunners knocked out from the crash. Wincing as I got up, I quickly hoisted the duffel bag again and looked around for the box containing the panel.

Boy, did you fuck up.

I could see what was left of the box, under the car. One close look told me all I needed to know. The stone tablet was broken, no longer a series of pictures on a slab, but now just some pieces of crushed rock.

Sorry, Jacinto.

I kept on running. I knew how this works, and Abdul wouldn't have sent just one car for back up. I turned corner after corner, trying hard to search for a cab. I needed to get to airport fast. Once inside, I knew that I'd be safe.

This is the part.


I rounded a corner and crashed straight into Jacinto. We both fell sprawling to the ground.



"Lurch, what the devil? The tablet is missing from the hotel. Do you know what happened to- is that a gun in your hand?"

"Jacinto, I don't have time for this. Get out of  my way."

Understanding crept into his eyes. "What did you do with the tablet, Lurch? Where is it?"

"Jacinto, I-"

The first bullet missed me by inches as it crashed into Jacinto's shoulder, sending him spinning to the ground. I whipped around, falling to my knees as I did so, bringing my gun up to my sights as I looked for the shooter. My eyes widened as I saw not one, but two SUVs roaring up the road towards us, gunners popping out of almost every available window.  But my eyes were on the man standing up the forward SUV's sun roof, readying an RPG in his hands. Without hesitating, I fired, clipping the man just as he launched the grenade. Its course veered as it exploded into the building's wall above us, showering Jacinto and me in a rain of plaster and debris. Grabbing Jacinto, I dragged him through a hail of bullets towards the only sign of cover I could find. The door into the building behind us.

We entered a tiny lobby, decorated with a few paintings on the walls and a desk behind which I could see the trembling legs of the receptionist. Leaving him in his hiding place, I dragged Jacinto towards the lift, pressing on the button to open the doors. Thankfully the lift was already on the ground floor, and we got in just as the first of Abdul's lackeys jumped in through the door. I got him in the chest, just as the elevator doors closed, and we began a slow ascent to the top floor.

I took this time to examine Jacinto. It was bad. The shoulder wound was only the first. There was blood leaking from a hole in his leg, and his belly was bathed in blood as well. His face was pale and lined with sweat. The monocle had fallen out of his eye and loosely hung from the golden chain attached to his collar.

"Made... some friends?" he asked, coughing blood across his shirt as he did so.

"Rest now," I said. "Save your energy."

He laughed, bringing about another coughing fit. "What energy? I'm dying... you bloody idiot. And I... I have a feeling you have something to do with it, yes?"

I have never, never in my life felt as guilty as bad as I did at that moment. I still remember it with too much pain.

"Jacinto, I-"

"Spare it, Lurch." He cut me off. "I don't want to hear it. I always knew there was something... hidden about you... didn't expect it to be this though."

I didn't know what to say.

"You probably don't know what to say, do you?" He smiled grimly. "Strange, Lurch. I thought everything gets dark before death. I can still see you clearly. It... makes sense. Right now... right now everything makes perfect sense."

He reached out for my shoulder. "Run. I forgive you."

I blinked. He was gone. The elevator beeped as the doors finally opened.

My turn.

He was too far gone. Bloody fool didn't know what to do. I know he'll deny it if you ever ask him, but he was in fucking shock. Probably why it was so easy for me to take over. I stood up and quickly reloaded. I tightened the strap on my bag, and paused for a moment, just long enough to remove Jacinto's monocle and put it in my pocket. I then ran out of the elevator and burst into the stairwell. I could hear them rushing up the stairs, not waiting for the lift to come back down. I ran up as well, heading for the roof.

The door to the roof was locked. I shot the lock and kicked the door open. Sunlight streamed into the dusty corridor as I ran outside, avoiding a rusty satellite dish that had fallen of its stand and was now useless. I didn't slow down as I reached the end, and then leaped into the the air.

I landed on the next roof, some six feet away and two stories down. I turned around to see Abdul's men on the previous roof. I emptied the full magazine at them as I watched the faggots duck for cover. In the meanwhile, I ran for the roof access door, kicking it open and rushing down the stairs, taking them three at a time. I reached the ground floor and burst out of the building, gun armed and ready.

Turns, out I didn't need it. 


The two SUVs were still there, roughly parked in front of the hotel and untended. I ran to the nearest one and spotted the keys still in the ignition. Talk about fucking lucky. As I was reversing, the first faggot  burst through the hotel door, having doubled back down. My bullet caught him in the eye and he went down without a sound. As the others came out behind them, I tossed a little gift I had found in the back seat.


A pair of grenades.


I did stay long enough to see the effects of my work. Blood and bits all over the sidewalk, and the door to the hotel was now just a few splinters hanging from its hinges. I slammed on the gas and sped down the road. Egypt had finally gotten too hot for me. As I drove down the road, I felt something fall down my cheek. I dabbed at it to find something shining on my fingers.


Tears! The cunt had actually started crying! I laughed to myself as I pulled into the airport, leaving the car in the parking. I headed towards the first airlines counter I could see. My passport and visa were in the duffel bag as well, and I quickly paid for a ticket and quickly walked into the terminal. I still had my gun on me, but this wasn't the first time I was boarding a plane armed. I knew what to do.


As I looked out of the window, Luxor had already shrunk to a small patch of land surrounded by the endless sand. The Nile shone in the evening sun, its waters gleaming in an almost reddish hue. I reached into my pocket as I fingered with Jacinto's mononcle.


Where I was going, I might be needing it.

CHAPTER I: BACK TO BASICS

The ice cubes tinkled as I swallowed the last of my drink. Setting the empty glass on the counter, I gestured for a refill as I glanced around the bar again. The usual crowd surrounded me.

At the end of the counter sat the hopeless drunk, drowning each misery with another shot. Between him and me sat the businessman with his too curvy of an escort. Each of her fake laughs were accompanied by a slight hand on his thigh, and it wasn't too hard to see her eyes continuously darting to the bulge of the wallet on his pant pocket. A group of youngsters were there as well, celebrating someone's promotion. Youngsters. I don't think I was even older than them, but if you went through even half of what I have, you'd be feeling pretty old yourself.

I was still waiting for Jacinto. He had been in the Consul's office for over three hours, without any sign of coming out soon. Fed up with waiting, I left the building, eager for sanctuary in the first pub that I could find. Right down the road, the 'Desert Oasis' seemed like a gift from Heaven. I walked through the door, sat at the counter, and have been with a glass ever since.

The businessman finally got up, and after throwing a few bills on the counter, left with his arm around his escort, his hand lightly resting on her buttocks. I smiled knowingly as I turned back to my drink, knowing I would find solace only in the alcohol.

The bottle was over half empty, when I heard the door swing open. One "By Jove!" told me all I needed to hear.

"Sit down Jacinto," I said. "Have a drink with me. No bars in Karnak, remember?"

"My boy," he roared with glee."Today I will treat you to the entire bottle! Bartender, get us a bottle of your best!"

The bartender looked at him for a moment, before bringing out a dusty bottle and pouring some clear liquid into two glasses. Jacinto took one and handed me the other. "Cheers," he winked, and we downed the shots. I gasped and tried hard not to cough, it tasted like liquid fire in my throat. Jacinto blinked the tears out of his eyes, and then gestured for a refill.

"As much as I enjoy free alcohol," I finally spoke. "Could I be informed of the cause of celebration?"

He stood up and clapped my on the back. "Within the next two months, I will be leading a river expedition through first the Blue, and then the White Nile, in an attempt to find the true burial chambers of King Thutmose III! It took a while at the Consul's office, but after I was able to convince him of the authenticity of the panel, he was jumping out of his skin! Of course, he's mainly interested in the value of whatever treasures would be buried in the tomb. As the Consul authenticating the expedition, he'll get a huge share of whatever profits, some of which would be sent to museums in Egypt, others back home to Queen and Country. But I'll still be rewarded handsomely, and I will be the man who found Thutmose's tomb!"

He downed the next shot and roared, yes roared, in joy. I don't think I've ever seen him so happy, or so drunk. We'd reached the city of Luxor three days ago, having left Karnak earlier as planned. As soon as Jacinto had certified that the panel was real, he readied a jeep to go to Luxor the very next day, determined to get the permission and finances for an expedition to find the tomb. Without even hesitating, I joined his as well, desperate to get back to anything that even remotely looked like a city.

Luxor reminded me a lot of home. Built on the banks of the Nile, the city was hot, sweaty and crowded with people, traversing narrow lanes between closely-cropped houses. A myriad of telephone cables, washing lines and electricity wires crisscrossed between the buildings, with several crows perched on the, cawing down at the crowds that passed by. What was once Thebes, one of the greatest cities of the Egyptian Civilization, is now Luxor, Egypt's biggest open-air museum.

Not exactly Hong Kong, but it'll do.

Yes. He was back. And this time he wouldn't go away. It had started on the journey to Luxor, when for a split second, my mind hurt so badly, that I felt my head was going to burst. It was a white-hot poker of pain, that seared through my brain. It hurt so bad, that I couldn't even think. All I could do was clutch my head in agony and wait and wait and-


Are you done? It wasn't even that bad.

Like the last time, I tried with all my will to block him out, but-

But I don't just waste my time when I'm not around, see. I practice and practice until I know that you can't bock me out. I won't lie, I'm still not strong enough to take control. But I'm getting there, I can feel it. And when I do...

And he did. It wasn't going to happen for a while, but he did it again. And I hated him for what happened. I hated him because I couldn't blame myself for it, even though I wanted to get out of Egypt as badly as he wanted to. I should have stopped him, I should have never given up on trying to block him out. But it was like he was hidden somewhere, and while I could always hear him, I couldn't sense him, couldn't feel him anywhere. How could I stop something that wasn't even there?

He might not have even surfaced again if it wasn't for me. I should have just said no, found another way to leave. But I was desperate, that I was willing to do everything, anything to escape from this bloody desert. And he knew that, he knew that very well. Which is why I'm not the only one to blame for what happened.


The guy was huge, and he looked at me like I was a little bug. I gulped, and if not for the familiar feel of my Colt tucked into my belt, would have probably turned and gone another way. Plus, there was little chance that he had anything to do with-

"Your name Lurch?"

Great. Fucking brilliant.

"Yeah, I'm Lurch. Can I do something for you?"

The man chewed on his fingernail, spitting it out. "My boss would like a word with you. He's interested in your profession."

Kick him in the balls.

"My profession?" Right now the only thing that could define that word was escort to mad Britisher.

"Yeah, your line of work. Follow me, I will take you to him."

"That's sounds interesting, but I'm actually quite busy right now.-Chicken Shit- Perhaps a rain check?" I turned around and began to briskly walk away.

A hand the size of my head fell on my shoulder, stopping me cold. "He would like to see you, now."

The mammoth led me down a series of alleys, until we came to a narrow wooden door set into the wall. the door was painted green, and had something in Arabic written over it. My knowledge of the language still had to go beyond "Where is the toilet?", so I had no idea where I was being led into.

The sight stopped me cold. About twenty children, working in two lines, filling small plastic bags with snow-white cocaine. The dust was everywhere, on the children, some over the floor, I could even smell it in the air. What kind of a man has so much of cocaine that he can just let it lie all over the place.

That man.

He was dressed in traditional Arabic robes, though the gold chains and Ray-Bans dangling from his collar were a stark contrast. His skin was brown, and a neat beard framed his fat face. A belly that looked more at home on a pregnant buffalo bounced with every step he took, as he walked up to me and warmly took my hand.

"Mr. Lurch, I presume? Such as pleasure to finally meet you. I am Abdul Il-Nihas, and I welcome you to my abode. Please, this way, where we may talk in privacy."

He lead me to another room. I took one last longing look at all of that coke, but followed the lion in into his den. There was a huge wooden desk, behind which he sat on a leather chair that had to be modified in order to hold up his fat ass. The giant followed us into the next room as well, always standing right behind me. I didn't really like that, but what can you do?

"Now, Mr. Lurch, to business." He rubbed his palms together. "You and an acquaintance of yours are in the possession of a certain artifact. This artifact has come into the interest of certain... friends of mine, and they would like to acquire this artifact, for a reasonable price, of course."

"You're talking about the panel?"

"Yes, yes I am."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'd love to work something out, but as you said, the artifact belongs to acquaintance, not me. And I doubt that he would sell it to you."

"Yes, we have already contacted Mr. Ambersworth, who was most... uncooperative."

I froze. The Colt was almost in my hand. "What did you do?"

Abdul smiled. "Nothing at all, Mr. Lurch. In fact I'm sure Mr. Ambersworth is comfortably resting in his hotel room. If anything, he must be curious of where you presently are. Which comes back to our discussion. My friends would be most appreciative if you could somehow procure this artifact and deliver it to us. We would reward you handsomely."

I raised my hands. "Look, I know how this works, and I'll let you know beforehand that-"

"Six hundred thousand USD as well as a new passport and visa to the destination of your choice. All can be ready and delivered to you by tomorrow, if you wish."

I gulped. The man had to be psychic, there is no other way he could have been so spot on.

I like it. I'd go for it in a fucking second. Part of me still wants to go to South Africa.

Abdul continued. "I'm sure a decision of such gravity can not be made in a few seconds, Mr. Lurch. Please take a day or two to think it over. My friends are patient, though not too patient. Rahid will see you out now, and will meet you again at this time in say, two days?"

I nodded, not daring to open my mouth.

"Good!" He warmly smiled. "I will see you then."

CHAPTER H: TUTTU'S BIG SECRET

"So you really think Tuttu built some massive underground chamber in Karnak, one that is piled to the ceiling with treasure, and guarded by traps, never found till date?"

"Yep, and his name is not 'Tuttu', its 'Thutmose'." The grad student exclaimed, pulling back a stray strand of blond hair from her face. "That's why I came on this expedition, to see if I could find it.Mr. Ambersworth, most of the archeologists and egyptologists are skeptical about it. They think these secret chambers of Thutmose don't exist. But I have a feeling they're wrong, and I want to give it a look."

I stared at her, again distracted by the birthmark on her shoulder-blade. We had met yesterday over the camp dinner. She was cute and she wasn't boring, so I ended up spending the night in her tent. The next morning, she had broken into conversation about this 'mysterious, hidden chamber', and she couldn't stop talking about it after that. She loved this stuff almost as much as Jacinto did.

Figures... you'd have to have an erection for this shit if you come all the way down to this place just to look at some fucking walls and pillars.

I froze at once. The girl sensed my discomfort, but I waved off her questions, claiming I was just a bit sick. She offered to go get me some aspirin and food. I said yes, anything yo make her leave. As soon as she was done, I started focusing with all my will.

Wha-What the hell are you doing?

Stopping you from coming back.

You asshole! You stop that right now! I am not going the fuck back there! Will you... argh! Will you stop with your bloody struggling?

I tried harder and harder, willing him away with everything I could throw at him. But he was just too strong, I finally collapsed to the floor, my head ringing with pain. Everything was spinning, out of focus. And with a white hot poker of pain running through my skull, I finally blacked out.


I woke up to see Jacinto's monocle staring down on me again. My hand rushed out and gripped his arm.

"What day is it? Month? What month is it?"

Jacinto spoke softly. "Calm down, Lurch old boy, calm down. You've just been out for a few minutes. This young girl found you out cold, so she called me for assistance. I've even brought the doctor with me." He pointed to a man behind him. "Let him have a look, will you?"

The pain in my head was already fading away. "No, no I'm alright. Just tired, that's all."

"Young man," The doctor sternly spoke. "The desert is a harsh place to live in, you should not be-"

"I SAID I'M FINE!" My outburst took them all by surprise. Jacinto recovered first.

"He's just a bit tired, doctor, heavy work last night, you see." He said airily, winking once at the girl as well. "Just give him a few minutes, he'll be fine doctor. I promise I'll call you, if otherwise happens."

The doctor paused as though to disagree, but I gave him one look and he nodded in consent. He left, the girl walking out after him, making some excuse to check on some equipment. As soon as they were gone, Jacinto turned to face me.

"You are sure you're alright, aren't you?"

"Yes." I sighed. "I'm just tired."

"Splendid!" He beamed. "Because I was actually hoping if you would do me the honor of accompanying me on my walks today. There is one excavation sit nearby that's relatively new, and I have an educated hunch that there still might be something left in the ground, and I'm going to go take a gander. So? Shall we make it a date?" He jokingly (I hope, jokingly) asked.

It was not hard to decide. "Well its not like I have anyplace to go to? So, yes, I like to come."

"Excellent! We'll leave for the site in an hour, its just under a mile away."

The site was definitely more than a mile away. We'd walked for hours, winding through ruined streets, climbing over fallen building. Every now and then we'd pass some statue or monument, and Jacinto would take a moment to enlighten me about it.

"See that wall there? Right next to the cracked pillar? That is a Depiction of Tuthmoses III holding a Hedj Club and a Sekhem Scepter, while standing before the two obelisks he had erected here, in Karnak. Well, they was cut to shape in his reign, but were erected thirty-five years later."

"Where are the obelisks now?"

"The first, Thutmose's tekhen waty, stands today in Rome as the Lateran obelisk. The move from Egypt to Rome was initiated by the Roman Emperor, Constantine the Great. The other obelisk was also moved from Karnak to Constantinople under Emperor Theodosius I. Unfortunately, Theodosius had to cut the obelisk into three parts for transportation, and only the top section survived the journey. Both obelisks still stand to today in their new homes."

In time, we reached the dig site. Walking through a massive archway, we entered what seemed like it was once a town square. Ruins of buildings were on our sides, and I could make out what was left of the once stone ground. All around us were holes, perfect cubic depressions into the earth. I could see the overturned rocks and piles of sand around them, evidence that these digs were recent, still relatively fresh. A signboard was placed near each one, providing information about the hole. Ladders were placed in each one, providing an easy way to get in and get out. Without them, climbing out up the smooth, ten foot walls would be near impossible.

Jacinto wasted no time in darting about the place, scanning each part of the site to find the perfect place to start. I just stood there silently, waiting for him to settle down.

Twenty months.

I had no clue of what he had done in all that time. Even now, I still only know parts of it, not the whole picture, not even close. I had spent a lot of time thinking about it. The one memory I had, of running through this hallway, massive paintings on either side of me, was clear now. It was the Louvre, which meant I had spent time in Paris. Alarms were blaring and bright red lights were flashing from the walls, bathing the rooms in a hellish light.

That bastard took me all around the map. Did God only knows what with my body, to my body. I had other memories as well, but those were just hazy images, sounds of shouting and gunfire. With my luck, that could have happened anywhere. And why the hell Paris? What was he doing there, what was he planning? I shuddered, afraid for the first time because of him. He could get me killed, the bastard could be my death. What did he do in the Louvre? What did he do for the twenty months that I-

And that was probably the worst part. In those twenty months, I had no idea of what had happened to me. Hong Kong felt like only a few weeks ago, not over a year. And throughout that entire time, where was I? I had just disappeared, a vanishing act so brilliant that even I didn't know where I had gone.

And why do I keep on remembering a small room?

"Lurch!" Jacinto shouted, jolting me back to reality."Can you come over here?"

I headed towards one of the holes, from where his voice had come. I hurried a bit, curious. There was something off in his voice when he had called for him. He sounded different, not himself.When I came to the edge, I could see him down there, looking up at me. His eyes danced wildly, and I could see his that his hands were shaking.

"What's wrong?"

"Just please come down here. Fast."

I slid down the ladder and walked up to Jacinto, who was now on his knees, staring into the sand wall. I sat down beside him.

"Do you see it?"

I looked at him blankly. "See what?"

"Hold on, let me help." He grabbed my hand and made me touch the sand. Only, it wasn't sand. My fingers were brushing against something hard. And I could feel tiny grooves and rises in it as well. I looked at Jacinto in confusion.

"This isn't sand, its stone."

His eyes gleamed. "Not just stone, brush away the sand and see."

He joined me as pawed at the sand, removing the hardened layers as more and more of the stone became visible. I could now see the grooves and niches clearly, they were carvings of various images drawn into the rock. We were looking at a panel.

"Do you see these symbols? The picture of Thutmose?" He was nearly breathless now. "He's holding the Ankh, and his Ba is still with him. And he's... he's not in the Valley of the Kings!"

Later on Jacinto would proceed to explain me everything.In Egyptian Symbolism, the Ankh is the symbol of eternal life. The gods are often seen holding an ankh to someone's lips this is considered to be an offering of "The Breath of Life". The breath you will need in the afterlife. The Ba is someone's spirit, soul, personality, something like that. It would leave your body at the time of death and live freely. During the day, the Ba would make itself useful to whoever it could assist, and at night it would return to the tomb. At this time, it would look for the person to which it belonged. This would be the mummy.

Jacinto would go on to explain the rest. Firstly, there was the image of Tuttu, who still had his Ba perched on his shoulder during the time of day, which was the first time such a symbol had been seen. But at the same time, he had held an ankh to his chest, which meant that he was dead, yet his Ba had no left him.

But it was the third image that had sent my friend into a frenzy. It showed Thutmose, still with his Ba and ankh now sailing on a grand ship down a river. But as Jacinto went on to explain, the river on which he sailed was huge, with great forests on either side. The Valley of the Kings was a harsh wasteland, with just a few  narrow streams that coursed through it.

"These pictographs, Lurch, do you know what they're depicting? They're showing another location for where the body of Thutmose was taken. Which means they did not send his corpse to the Valley of the Kings. If these panels are correct, then Thutmose's funeral procession sailed to a forested area on a great river. That river can only be the Nile, which means... dammit!"

I looked at him. "What?"

The Nile is actually two rivers meeting into one, Lurch." He explained. "One is the White Nile, which starts in Rwanda, and passes through miles of rain-forest before reaching Egypt. The same can be said for it sister, the Blue Nile, whose source is located in Ethiopia. And if the possibility of this panel being accurate is true, then it the true Tomb of Thutmose III could be anywhere on either of these rivers!"

I was confused. "But I thought you told me they already found his tomb, as well as his mummified remains in the Valley of the Kings?" Isn't it also on display somewhere?"

"There are theories," Jacinto was in his feet now, rushing about in mad circles, his arms flailing about as he continued to explain. "Theories that many of the tombs in the Valley of the Kings are just a facade. That, the Pharaoh's people, fearing for the safety of his mortal coil, would hide it in some secret location, with the knowledge of that location, entrusted to a chosen few. In its place, they would have another mummified body, most probably some devoted followers, placed in the intended tomb in the Valley, thus completing the deception.The true body would be safe in its secrecy, the true tombs supposedly filled with treasures that made the ones recorded in the Valley of the Kings seem like cheap trinkets.  Of course, historians have found enough evidence proving that these theories are false and true, thus reducing the topic to a stalemate in today's discussions. But nothing so far has been like this. A proper, completely preserved panel. This could be the find of the decade. I could end up writing a full book on this, probably even two."

He snapped back to his senses and started to climb up the ladder speaking as he did so. "We need to get a team down here now, Lurch. I need this stone excavated and I need more opinions on this, now. We haven't got a moment to waste!"

And with that, he was over the ladder and out of the ditch, I could hear his footsteps receding as he ran towards the camp, shouting "God save the Queen!" once. I smiled at that, amused by his theatrics by his excitement. I turned around looking at the panel once more, realizing that thousands of years ago, some bugger had carved this out and hidden hit, hoping it would stay safe.Sadly, his plan had not been 'Crazy British Historian' proof, and the cat was finally out of the bag.

I gave the panel one last look before I began to climb out as well. I didn't know it at the time, but that panel would be my ticket out of here.

And it came at a cost that I should never have sacrificed.