Curse of the Pharaoh: A Brock Stone Adventure

The scorpions met in the center of their arena. They snapped at one another with their claws. The Thicktail had larger claws, but the Deathstalker was quicker. It scurried to the side and struck with its curled tail. It just missed. The Thicktail struck back but the Deathstalker was on the move again.

“Looks like we got Max Schmeling versus Max Baer,” Stone said.

“I have not seen Baer fight. Can he box?”

“Not really, but he hits like a kicking mule. Killed a man in the ring a couple years back.”

“Barbaric sport.” Brimble tsked and returned his attention to the glass arena.

The fight fell into a pattern of quick attacks by the Deathstalker with the occasional counterattack from the Thicktail. It went on that way for a good minute. Finally, the Thicktail managed to trap the Deathstalker’s tail just below the stinger. Unable to sting, the Deathstalker tried to pinch its way free, but it was not to be. The Thicktail drove its stinger deep into the Deathstalker’s back. The yellow scorpion gave a jerk, and then the fight went out of it. It lay there twitching in its death throes.

“Well done,” Brimble said to Stone as they collected their winnings. “Let’s hope you do as well at the tables.”

“If experience is any indicator, somebody else is probably leaving with my money tonight. Like Babe Ruth said, I’ll ‘give it the old college try’!” He made to hit Brimble on the back again, but the Englishman was keeping his distance. He remained just close enough to meet the demands of courtesy.

“We shall find out soon enough. Shall we find a table?”

The rest of the deck was clogged with gamblers seated at small tables. Each table stood on a luxurious Oriental rug. Tapestries from all around the world covered the walls. Toward the stern stood three closed doors, each marked “Private.”

“What’s back there?” Stone asked.

“Those are… uh…” Brimble cleared his throat. “Those are entertainment rooms. A place where a man and woman can be alone with their thoughts if you take my meaning. The girls will be brought up later if you are interested in that sort of thing.”

“I don’t hunt in a baited field, and I don’t fish in a barrel,” Stone said.

“Strange.” Brimble gave a small shake of his head. “We use the same words, yet it seems we speak different languages entirely.”

Stone didn’t reply. His eyes were on the three doors. If someone tried to haul Trinity into of them, he would move heaven and earth to get her free.

16 The Fighting Pit

They took seats at a table at the far corner of the room. Brimble introduced “Lord Rockwell” to the other players. Zafrini was a Cairo politician, Ihara a Japanese expat, and Saroyan was an heiress from Armenia. The men greeted him with perfunctory nods while Saroyan looked him up and down like a hyena sizing up a potential kill.

Ihara dealt the cards and they set to playing. Stone bet conservatively, played the game by the numbers, and occasionally made a bad decision that cost him the hand. It wouldn’t do to draw attention to himself by cleaning up at the table. He won a couple, lost several.

He had just anted up when a familiar face strode toward him. It was John Kane! Stone raised his cards, shielding his face. The business magnate paid him no mind. He took a seat at the table directly behind Stone. A minute later, a corpulent, bearded man in an expensive pinstriped suit joined him. His red fez sat atop his head at a jaunty angle. He gave Kane an ebullient greeting and they shook hands warmly.

“That is Amir,” Brimble said softly. “He owns this boat. I don’t know the other man.”

Stone shrugged as if he, too, had no idea who Kane was. As the game went on, he listened intently to their conversation. Kane spoke softly, but Stone’s sharpened senses served him well. He heard everything.

“What brings you to Egypt, my friend?” Amir said.

“Mags is shooting a film.”

“And how is the lovely Miss Fischer?”

“Challenging.” Kane laughed and Amir joined in. They clinked glasses.

“Are you filming close by?” Amir asked.

“That is the problem,” Kane said. “Magda wants to film specific scenes at a place called Kauketos, but no one seems to know where it is.”

Stone was barely paying attention to the card game. He wondered if the false clues they had planted on Orion’s map had done the trick.

“Kauketos was a place of great evil,” Amir said. “All traces of its location were scrubbed from the annals of history.”

“She has a map of questionable origin,” Kane said carefully. “It shows the city as being somewhere in the vicinity of Siwa Oasis.”

Stone smiled. Kane had been taken in by the ruse. But for him to have obtained the map, that meant someone inside the Bureau was dirty. That could mean future trouble for Constance, but that was a problem for another day.

“Nonsense,” Amir said. “Kauketos was in the Western Desert somewhere west of Edfu.”

And just like that, Stone’s clever deception went up in smoke. They and Kane were back on an even footing in the search for the tomb of the Night Queen.