Massam realized this must have been where they came out; the scrapes on his shoulders and arms a subtle reminder. The two men eased their way down through the darkness, Harry leading with a comfortable familiarity. When they suddenly stopped, Massam strained to see in the darkness but could only hear Harry grunting and the sound of something large scraping. The light from the torches shocked his eyes as Harry pulled him through an opening into the room he had first been taken to, and as they slowly adjusted, he watched in awe as Harry pulled a huge canvas over the opening, adjusting it to look exactly like the rest of the wall.

"That is truly amazing. How did you do that?"

"Art is one of my many talents Benji. I worked on set decorations for a theatre in Ireland for a number of years."

"But it's so realistic!"

"Well that's the whole point- and thank you. Now, lets get to your friends." He dazzled Massam again, this time with a second section of wall that he seemed to peel back magically. "This is where we first came in."

*****

Back in the first chamber, Melanie paced about waving her arms in agitation, "We're trapped in here. What if they come in?"

"Take it easy Mel," Stone soothed, "at least we can move around and talk without whispering." As fond as he seemed to be growing of this girl, she could be a real pain sometimes.

"Something just occurred to me." Karl spoke abruptly, "Where's Massam and Sadam, weren't they outside?"

Stone looked at the father and daughter uncomfortably. He didn't care to think that something had happened to the two men. "I didn't see any sign of them, but they could just have been out of sight." He was stalling and he knew it. Trying to keep any panic out of the situation.

"That's just wishful thinking," Melanie shouted, blowing a hole in his efforts, "they could both be- be dead," she caught her breath, "or they ran off!"

"No!" Stone grabbed her by the arms, "No way Massam would run off and leave Oura.

Something else- something . . ." The sound of footsteps outside the chamber startled them and Stone whipped out his revolver, forcing Melanie down into a crouch behind him. "Get down professor," he hissed sharply. Massam stepped gingerly into the room, hands held out in front,

"Stone?"

"Massam! Where the hell-" He stopped short in his approach, raising the gun threateningly, as Harry appeared right behind him.

"Hold it there sport . . ."

"Please! No. It's not a danger. This is Harry Lassiter, he saved me from walking into the trap outside."

Twenty minutes later, Massam had brought them up to date without interruption. They all looked about, puzzled and more than a little overwhelmed. Harry had drifted away and was sitting cross-legged on the floor staring at the entrance to the inner chamber. After hearing a few moments of silence, he spoke up.

"Seven months and you buggers find it all in one day. Where's the justice."

"I think that's something we can discuss another time," Melanie said edgily. She gave Stone a questioning look.

"What?"

"What are you going to do about this?"

"Me? Why me?"

"Well you're the soldier of fortune aren't you?"

"Oh right. Lawrence of Arabia, that's me—"

"Stop bickering," Karl snapped, directing his attention to Harry. "You know a secret way out right? There's five of us, if you count the policeman- six! I forgot Sadam. Where is Sadam?"

Stone turned to Massam who looked down, shaking his head. "I directed him to keep watch outside. Sadam is an able man, something must have happened to him."

"You mean . . ." Melanie started.

"Let's not count on Sadam for now," Stone said gravely, let's just figure a way out of this."

*****

Max Baeder walked down to the two prisoners and kicked Oura roughly on the foot. "How long are they gonna be in there?"

She gave him a caustic look and sneered, "Why don't you go in and ask them, pig." Baeder's complexion flamed and he leaned down, blowing his foul breath in her face,

"Maybe I will, and when I'm finished with them, I'll show you just what a pig I am!" The look of pure evil made Oura swallow hard and turn her face away. "C'mere you two." He waved the skulking Arabs over to the tomb's entrance. "We're gonna force the situation a little." He gripped Snake Eyes by the arm and pulled him close, "Get in there and do a little reconnoitering. Find out just where they are, then come back and report."

"Why me? I'm hurt. My arm is still sore. Send Baddu."

"Send Baddu? I need two eyes you scruffy little cur. Besides, aren't you the hero who took out that Bedouin sentry up there?" Max shook his head toward the top of the cliff. Snake Eyes pulled a face, thinking how, if the Bedouin hadn't lost his footing in the loose gravel, it would be he lying up there with a knife cut in his throat, instead. "Quit wasting time. Get in there, and be quiet. How does it go, always there but invisible?"

"That was me effen—"

"Shut up you idiot," Max turned a violent glare on the older man, "just get your friend here, hopping." He stomped away and settled himself against the wall in a bit of shade, where he could keep an eye on the both the entrance and the prisoners.

*****

Surri was humiliated. The harsh sand was sticking to the sweat on his face and the weight of the man on his back was making it hard to breath. A glimpse of the deadly looking knife near his ear prompted him to remain perfectly silent and not move. The Sergeant would not be impressed to find that he had been ambushed so easily.

"What have we got here Massam? Some kind of pirate?" Stone asked.

Another humorist, Surri thought. "I'm a policeman for your information."

Sorry about the rough stuff officer," Stone apologized, waving Massam to release his captive, "we couldn't take a chance on the others up there hearing you shout out."

Surri raised himself on one elbow and dusted away the sand from his sweaty skin. "What's going on here?"

"Good question. It seems some of our party has been taken by some bad guys that followed us out here. They may have even killed one of our friends."

Surri sat up and wiped his mouth, "If it's Baeder your talking about, we know all about him- and the jar you stole from him."

Stone and Massam traded curious glances, "Who's we?" They chorused.

"Sergeant Aju Rafiman and I, Corporal Ben Dal Surri of the Idfu police constabulary. We followed Baeder from Idfu after he beat your friend Kabbar, for information about you."

"Kabbar! Is he alright?"

"He is recovering in hospital. A few bad cuts and a broken nose and rib."

"That bastard!" Stone clenched his fists.

"In case you want to know, Sergeant Rafiman is at your campsite minding the animals. Also he is radioing a report to the Idfu authorities." Surri was feeling a little more confident that his captors really meant him no harm. "There was a struggle, your guard was wounded but he managed to fight them off and make his way here"

"They must have followed him and somehow got past Sadam." Massam slumped on his haunches, the tip of his knife tracing slow circles in the sand.

"I'm sorry buddy, we have to assume the worst." Stone gave him a pat on the back and turned back to the Corporal. "There's more of our party inside the tomb, we've got—"

"Tomb? You actually found a tomb out here?"

"Yeah, but more about that later. First things first. Are you willing to pitch in with us?"

Surri checked his watch. Over four hours since he left the Sergeant. "I'm supposed to be back at the camp in less than an hour. Those were my orders."

Stone chuckled, "Here's a bulletin. You ain't gonna make it, so you might as well stay and give us a hand."

*****

Rafiman studied the glowing end of his third cigar and checked his watch. An uneasy feeling about having sent his young Corporal off to follow Baeder and company niggled at his mind. The forty minutes left in the deadline seemed like an eternity. He paced the camp perimeter with long, sure strides, stopping briefly to check the camels who watched him with bland faces, chewing constantly on their imaginary cuds.

He squatted down beside the campfire once again, poking at the dead embers with a bent twig, envisioning several scenarios that might present themselves. Dropping the twig, he stood and adjusted his tunic jacket. He would give him fifteen more minutes then he would go after him; camels be damned.

*****

Snake Eyes picked his way nervously past the pile of bones at the entrance and stared morosely down the passage where one or two torches still sputtered weakly. This was not his idea of a good time. When this was over he vowed he would make the pig of a foreigner pay dearly. Slowly, he felt his way down the tunnel, keeping one hand against the wall as security and pausing every few steps to listen. When he came to the first torch still burning, he couldn't decide whether to take it or not.

The handle of his dagger was slippery with sweat and he was reluctant to take his other hand from the comfort of the wall. Finally deciding he would rather have light to return by, he left the torch and proceeded groping his way cautiously. The faint scraping sound froze him in his tracks. His stomach gave a wrench and his throat dried to a crisp.

His wound began to throb and he looked back up the tunnel wanting desperately to turn and flee. Perspiration soaked his body. His legs felt rubbery and his vision blurred. The sudden expulsion of breath startled him, he hadn't realized that he wasn't breathing, straining as he was, to hear through the darkness. Gathering his courage, he edged further down the passage until he came to the fork and his heart sank.

There was nothing to be seen in either direction and his fear mounted at the thought of making a choice. He wished now he'd brought the torch and, damning Max Baeder, he turned and fled back the way he came. As he was about to exit the tomb and take his berating from the foreigner, he spotted a flashlight lying by the entrance. Tiptoeing carefully, making sure he wasn't seen, Snake Eyes grabbed the flashlight and retreated down the tunnel. Buoyed with this new advantage, he flicked it on and moved more confidently back the way he came.