The Pharaoh's Secret (NUMA Files 13)

A short, stocky man stepped from the shack. He wore mirrored sunglasses and had his hair cut close like a military man. “I’m here.”

“You must be Hassan,” Kurt said.

The man looked annoyed.

“We got that much out of your men and a little more,” Kurt said.

“It means nothing,” the man insisted. “But I’ll allow you to address me by that name, if you wish.”

“Nice place you’ve got here,” Kurt said, still ducked down behind the wall of scuba tanks. “As villainous lairs go, this one seems a little run-down.”

“Your humor is wasted on me,” Hassan bellowed. “Perhaps you’d like to stand and face me like a man.”

“Gladly,” Kurt said. “First, you’ll have to tell your sniper to throw his rifle into the bay.”

“What sniper?”

“The one on the hotel roof.”

Through a narrow gap between the tanks, Kurt could see the aggravation on the man’s face.

“Now or never,” Kurt shouted, starting the engines again in a veiled threat to leave.

The villa

in put a radio to his lips, whispered something and then repeated it more firmly. Up on the roof, the sniper got up from his lying position, picked up a long, heavy rifle and heaved it. It twirled slowly as it fell and then splashed into the calm waters of the cove.

“Satisfied?” Hassan said.

“Better hope he doesn’t have another gun,” Joe whispered. “Or more snipers.”

“You’re a bundle of encouragement,” Kurt replied under his breath. “Only one way to find out, though.”

Kurt stood slowly, bringing the APS rifle up with him and counting three similar weapons aimed his way. Hassan appeared to be carrying a pistol, which remained secure in a shoulder holster for now.

“Where are the D’Campions?” Kurt asked.

“Show me the tablets first,” Hassan demanded.

Kurt shook his head. “I don’t think so. To be honest, I’m not even sure what I did with them.”

The annoyed look returned. Hassan whistled sharply and movement up on the bridge caught Kurt’s eye. A pair of figures were lifted to their feet and shuffled to the edge. The D’Campions, an older couple, were chained together and forced to the very edge of the bridge, where the railing was missing. Kurt saw an object with a curved bottom in the man’s hand. It was attached by a chain to his feet.

“That’s going to be a problem,” Kurt muttered.

“What do you see?” Renata asked.

“Hostages chained together and hooked to a boat anchor.”

“An anchor?”

“That’s what it looks like. It’s not that large,” he added. “Probably no more than twenty pounds. But that’s enough to keep a good man down. A good man and his wife.”

Hassan grew impatient. “As you can see, they’re alive. Though they won’t be for long if you don’t give me what I want. I see only two of my men.”

“The rest are shark food by now,” Kurt said. It was a half-truth. Two of the injured thugs had been treated on the Sea Dragon. They’d be turned over to authorities as soon as the boat docked.

“And the tablets?” Hassan shouted.