“We have to leave the box,” Montross said.
“Can we blow it up?” Alexander asked. “Shoot it open, throw a grenade at it?”
“Don’t have guns,” Montross replied. He shined his light on Marco’s body. “And no grenades on our friend here.”
“Then we’re screwed,” Alexander said, glancing at his father. “Sorry. Anyway, they’ll just bring the other two here. My brothers. And they’ll open the door.”
“But they won’t have the keys,” Caleb said excitedly. “We’ve got them, and we’re going to get out.” He pointed the light at the corner again, and this time moved in closer, finding the outline of a door. He closed his eyes as he touched the wall. Furrowed his brow, and let his mind break free, scatter into the infinite and pluck the answer from tangle of his visions.
“Damn it,” Caleb said after a moment, holding his head. “This means that Waxman was right after all.”
Alexander frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Waxman believed the Emerald Tablet was the greatest threat to the security of humanity, and now I realize he was right after all. He just didn’t know the true nature of the threat, didn’t know what it would be used for. But another one of his psychics had foreseen this and warned him. Which is why he spared no effort to get into the Pharos Vault.” He shook his head. “Maybe I should have let him succeed.”
“But he wouldn’t have been able to burn it like the other scrolls,” Montross said. “You did the right thing. Now it’s up to us to finish it.”
Alexander pouted. “But, what about Aunt Phoebe and Orlando?”
“They’ll be ok,” Caleb said. “If I know my sister, she’s already figured a way out of there, and they’re on the run, somewhere safe.”
“And Nina?”
Caleb paused. “She’s got other priorities now.”
Montross shrugged. “She’s inscrutable. She owed me for breaking her out of that facility, but that debt’s been repaid many times over. My guess is that she’s going to side with her boys. You know how she was always drawn to power, and she’s just been elevated to their high queen, the mother of the messiahs. At least in their minds.”
Caleb shook his head. “Then let’s go. This isn’t over.”
“But what can we do?” Alexander asked. “Even if we make it through the maze that I know is waiting for us under the pyramids, probably loaded with more traps and things to squash us or impale us, how do we stop the end of the world?”
Glancing from Alexander back to Montross, Caleb smiled hopefully. “I keep coming back to that image the Morpheus Initiative had been seeing every time we asked about the tablet, asked to be shown its origin and its function. There’s something else we’re missing, some piece that I have to believe we’re being drawn to because it might help us.” He thought again for a moment. “Remember, Marduk wasn’t the only one with followers. Thoth had his believers, scholars and philosophers who, knowing the threat, may have secreted something else away. Something that we can use to counter what the other side is planning.”
Montross’s eyes sparkled with sudden vigor. “Yes. I hadn’t thought back on this. Hadn’t considered this aspect. Instead, I just used it as a lure to get you away from guarding the tablet. But you’re right.”
“What are we talking about?” Alexander asked.
“The head,” Montross said. “The crowned head we’ve been seeing and searching for.”
“Nina said something,” Montross whispered, “about the Statue of Liberty.”
“Yes,” Caleb said. “The twins were there. With someone. Why?”
“I don’t know,” said Montross. “But if something we need is on Liberty Island, we’ve got to get it before they do.”
“Something else to RV when we get the chance,” Caleb said, then paused, frowning.
“What, Dad?”
Caleb nodded to himself. “I just thought of something. I may know what it is-what they’re looking for.”
“What?”
“You jogged my memory just now. The Incredibles… the sharp claw-thing used by Mr. Incredible to tear through the robot’s shell.”
“Yeah,” Alexander said. “So what?”
Montross’s eyes went wide. “I think I know, too.”
Caleb smiled. “The symbol of Marduk. The slaying of the dragon. He had-”
“ A lance! ” Montross licked his lips and then swooned, holding his head.
Alexander glanced around helplessly as Montross slowly recovered.
“Later,” Montross said. “I’ll tell you later. Now we need to get out of here. Fast.”
Caleb went to the first pillar and turned it clockwise, then went to the second, twisting it in the other direction for three rotations.
The side door opened. Inside, a hallway flickered into view as floor-lamps filled with glowing light, like a runway guiding them in.
“Time to move,” Montross said, a spring in his step. “And trust me, we don’t die down here in this sprawling, sadistic labyrinth of hell, one that I fear might make Genghis Khan’s place look like a kid’s playpen.” He stopped, glancing back, frowning. “Well, at least I know I don’t die.”
24
Despite Caleb’s assessment, Phoebe remained restrained in the back of the helicopter, along with Orlando, until the pilot, acting on orders transmitted over his headset, came into the cabin and cut them free. He disconnected the transfusions and saline drip, bandaged Orlando up, then escorted them out onto the desert to a waiting limousine.
Between the Sphinx’s paws, Nina stood in the middle of a crowd of soldiers, barking orders and pointing to locations around the site. She glanced over to them once, nodded, then looked away quickly.
“Here,” said the pilot, tossing Orlando’s pack to him, then pushing both of them inside the limo. “This man will take you to the airport, where you’ll have a flight waiting.”
“Going where?” Phoebe asked, her mouth dry, her head spinning.
“New York. Your part in this is done.”
“But my brother? My nephew-?”
“I won’t say it again. You’re going home, where you’ll be watched. If you try to leave the country, we’ll have you detained.” He smirked under his visor. “Or killed.”
“That seems fair.” Orlando leaned on the open car door, trying to be chivalrous and let Phoebe in first. Then he slid in beside her, with his pack on his lap.
On the ride to the airport, as they passed through the perimeter of jeeps and men with guns, Orlando took out his iPad and turned it on. He leaned back, then fell sideways, resting his head against Phoebe’s shoulder. Her breathing was quick, raspy.
“Don’t,” he whispered. “No crying. Not yet. We’re not done.”
“I heard gunshots down there.”
“Hey, we’ll find out how they are. Just a moment. Let me get my strength.”
“You do that,” she said. “I need to see.”
Behind them, the Great Pyramid glowed brightly, dwindling in their window before they turned, and Cairo’s choppy hills, crammed with homes, stores and museums, took its place.
“Okay, but-”
Just then, the iPad beeped. Groaning, Orlando sat up, opened to the screen and blinked at it for a long time before cursing.
“What?” Phoebe said, looking over. Her eyes focused and her brain slowly perceived the image. “What is that?”
Orlando could barely breathe. “It’s the program I’ve been running.”
