asking for money. That’s what I figured they wanted. And I
really
didn’t want Michael paying ransom for me. You know how I feel about the money.”
“Yeah, I know.” Gabriel smoothed her hair. “When this is all over, maybe you can explain it to Michael. Over a nice dinner in New York.”
She sleepily shook her head. “Not happening.”
“Why not?” Gabriel said, but at that moment the door swung open and Chigaru entered carrying a tray. He put it down on the desk, glared at Gabriel, and left without a word.
There was a plate of rice, some strips of grilledchicken, a little pile of hummus. A bottle of water accompanied it.
“Try to get some down,” Gabriel said—but when he turned to look at Lucy he saw she was asleep.
Well. It would keep. Hopefully she’d eat some when she woke up, maybe even a bite or two of the chicken. Not that he was too optimistic. Lucy had been a committed vegetarian since childhood.
Gabriel went over to the window. There were indeed bars attached on the outside of the glass pane. The wooden boards were screwed into the wall over them. Peering through the cracks between the boards he could just make out the bougainvillea-covered wall of the building across the street.
And what about the building they were in? Gabriel remembered his brief look at it when they’d gotten out of the limo. There was no bougainvillea here. No fire escape, no drainpipe. Nothing to hold onto or to shimmy down. Just three sheer stories of sandstone wall.
Gabriel raised the window, put his hand through the bars, and tested the strength of the boards. They seemed firmly attached. The only thing was, as Gabriel knew from caving and climbing, sandstone was soft. You could drive a piton into it barehanded if you had to, and pull it out again afterward; whatever screws they’d used to attach these boards should come out, too, with enough force. He gave one of the boards a few blows with the heel of his hand. After three or four, he felt it loosen slightly, and after a few more it was moving noticeably. One more strike, he thought, and it would come free.
Gabriel closed the window and went back to the chair. Lucy was sitting up, chewing on a spoonful of rice.
“I thought you were asleep,” he said.
“I was, till you started banging on the window.”
They heard a hand at the doorknob outside, saw it turn.
“Eat,” Gabriel whispered quickly, “and rest—and be prepared to move, fast, when I come for you.”
The door opened and Kemnebi stuck his head inside. He gestured to Gabriel.
“Come,” he said again.
Gabriel stood. “All right. I’m going to want to talk to Amun.”
“Later,” Kemnebi said.
“What do you mean, later? I want to talk to him now.”
“Later,” the big man repeated. “Khufu awaits.”
Chapter 12
He was led downstairs to the ground floor, through the living room, and into a corridor he hadn’t seen before. Gabriel was struck by the sudden change of decoration in the hallway. The walls here were the color of stone and uneven, and had been painted with fairly good hand-drawn reproductions of Egyptian hieroglyphics. It was as if the Alliance wanted to give the impression of walking into a pyramid or an ancient temple. They’d even mounted torches along the way in metal holders. As the modern living room receded behind them, it felt a bit like walking back through time.
Gabriel reached out and touched one wall. It wasn’t genuine stone—it felt like cast resin, painted over to look like stone.
“Do not touch,” Kemnebi snapped.
“Disney’s got nothing on you guys,” Gabriel murmured.
They reached the end of the corridor, where the wall was painted to look like a large sandstone block. Kemnebi grabbed a concealed handhold and pulled it open. The wall swiveled toward them, revealing a chapel-sized space lit by torches. Gabriel stepped through. He suspected they were in the adjacent building now. He turnedto ask—but Kemnebi pushed the section of the wall
really
didn’t want Michael paying ransom for me. You know how I feel about the money.”
“Yeah, I know.” Gabriel smoothed her hair. “When this is all over, maybe you can explain it to Michael. Over a nice dinner in New York.”
She sleepily shook her head. “Not happening.”
“Why not?” Gabriel said, but at that moment the door swung open and Chigaru entered carrying a tray. He put it down on the desk, glared at Gabriel, and left without a word.
There was a plate of rice, some strips of grilledchicken, a little pile of hummus. A bottle of water accompanied it.
“Try to get some down,” Gabriel said—but when he turned to look at Lucy he saw she was asleep.
Well. It would keep. Hopefully she’d eat some when she woke up, maybe even a bite or two of the chicken. Not that he was too optimistic. Lucy had been a committed vegetarian since childhood.
Gabriel went over to the window. There were indeed bars attached on the outside of the glass pane. The wooden boards were screwed into the wall over them. Peering through the cracks between the boards he could just make out the bougainvillea-covered wall of the building across the street.
And what about the building they were in? Gabriel remembered his brief look at it when they’d gotten out of the limo. There was no bougainvillea here. No fire escape, no drainpipe. Nothing to hold onto or to shimmy down. Just three sheer stories of sandstone wall.
Gabriel raised the window, put his hand through the bars, and tested the strength of the boards. They seemed firmly attached. The only thing was, as Gabriel knew from caving and climbing, sandstone was soft. You could drive a piton into it barehanded if you had to, and pull it out again afterward; whatever screws they’d used to attach these boards should come out, too, with enough force. He gave one of the boards a few blows with the heel of his hand. After three or four, he felt it loosen slightly, and after a few more it was moving noticeably. One more strike, he thought, and it would come free.
Gabriel closed the window and went back to the chair. Lucy was sitting up, chewing on a spoonful of rice.
“I thought you were asleep,” he said.
“I was, till you started banging on the window.”
They heard a hand at the doorknob outside, saw it turn.
“Eat,” Gabriel whispered quickly, “and rest—and be prepared to move, fast, when I come for you.”
The door opened and Kemnebi stuck his head inside. He gestured to Gabriel.
“Come,” he said again.
Gabriel stood. “All right. I’m going to want to talk to Amun.”
“Later,” Kemnebi said.
“What do you mean, later? I want to talk to him now.”
“Later,” the big man repeated. “Khufu awaits.”
Chapter 12
He was led downstairs to the ground floor, through the living room, and into a corridor he hadn’t seen before. Gabriel was struck by the sudden change of decoration in the hallway. The walls here were the color of stone and uneven, and had been painted with fairly good hand-drawn reproductions of Egyptian hieroglyphics. It was as if the Alliance wanted to give the impression of walking into a pyramid or an ancient temple. They’d even mounted torches along the way in metal holders. As the modern living room receded behind them, it felt a bit like walking back through time.
Gabriel reached out and touched one wall. It wasn’t genuine stone—it felt like cast resin, painted over to look like stone.
“Do not touch,” Kemnebi snapped.
“Disney’s got nothing on you guys,” Gabriel murmured.
They reached the end of the corridor, where the wall was painted to look like a large sandstone block. Kemnebi grabbed a concealed handhold and pulled it open. The wall swiveled toward them, revealing a chapel-sized space lit by torches. Gabriel stepped through. He suspected they were in the adjacent building now. He turnedto ask—but Kemnebi pushed the section of the wall
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