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“You know exactly what he means, Mister Hitler.” Albright was staring at the back of Hess’s head. “You know more than any mortal could know. You have returned to this Earth, to judge the living and the dead. Don’t try to deny who are.” Albright replaced the codice in the straw-filled satchel he had prepared for its transport. “I have to ask, why us? Why the honor?” “I’m glad to see your hires are right on time, Rudi,” Halstead called out to Hess in the front seat as the vehicle approached the horde of turbaned laborers who had gathered with the dusk in front of the tomb of Rameses VI, a site already excavated in previous seasons. The Egyptians, prompted to appear by resentment against the British authorities, who were refusing to grant Egyptian autonomy, and by large sums of gold doled out by Hess as retainers, cheered when the convertible pulled up beside their gathering. Hess was surrounded by ringleaders demanding further payments before he was even out of the car, and he shouted back in angry Arabic that more gold would not be forthcoming until that night’s work had been completed. Halstead, Williams, and Albright, the first carrying a carbine that had sat on the floorboard beneath his feet, quietly slipped out the other side of the vehicle, and walked around to join a hesitant Hess. Halstead started walking away from the car and the crowd, and ordered everyone to follow him. Hess relayed this order in Arabic, and the laborers picked up their spades and shovels to follow Halstead in a northeasterly direction. Halstead came to a firm stop a few yards from the entrance to the tomb of Rameses VI, and thirteen feet below it. The spot he stood upon was unmarked, a patch of sand and rubble in the wasteland. “Rudi, tell them to start digging here, from this point east.” The index finger of Halstead’s right hand had descended to indicate the earth below his feet, and rose to point into the side of the small hillock that housed the tomb of Rameses. Hess nodded without hesitation and relayed the new instruction to the labor leaders. The Arabs looked at one another questioningly, a few muttered things beneath their breaths, and then the middle-aged leader of all shrugged his shoulders and approached the indicated spot with his spade at the ready. The rest followed, allowed themselves to be lined up in a row according to more relayed German-Arabic instructions, and began to dig as the sun touched the western edges of the Valley of the Kings. |