“Ley lines?” Jemma asked. “Ancient causeways?”
Lucie shrugged. “Truly, we’ll never know. But the pyramids were constructed at a worthy shrine, so we won’t have to worry about disappearing at least.”
Bodie looked to see if she was joking, but Lucie wasn’t known for her witticisms. “Disappear? We’re not heading into the Bermuda Triangle, are we?”
Lucie pursed her lips. “The Bermuda Triangle and Japan’s Devil’s Sea or Devil’s Triangle, are considered glitches. Obviously, there are no ancient megaliths there that we know of and they can’t easily be explored. But there are ley lines so...” Lucie shrugged. “Again, we’ll probably never know.”
“How long did it take to build these puppies?” Cassidy asked.
“It took about thirty years and many thousands of men,” Lucie said.
“Times have changed,” Bodie said. “It took the council thirty years to build a bypass round my old house and I lost count of the men they used.”
“Well, I bet you didn’t know that in the tombs of the pyramid workers, they found gifts of beer and bread to support them in the afterlife,” Lucie said.
“No,” Bodie admitted. “I didn’t know that.”
They were closest to the Pyramid of Khufu, and stared up reverently at the limestone and granite blocks, scoured by a desert wind and blasted by the sun. Bodie couldn’t gaze directly at it for long without remembering that he’d forgotten to purchase sunglasses at the airport. Around them, tourists and locals wandered, shouted and bartered.
Lucie was still imparting knowledge, which brought into sharp focus the reason they were here.
“So, what next?” Cassidy drawled. “We just grab a handful of sand... or what?”
Bodie thought that was a damn good question. “Lifeblood,” he said. “Ore.”
“Defined as: blood as necessary to life,” Lucie said. “And naturally occurring solid material.”
Bodie struggled to hear her over the boisterous crowd but got the gist. “So it’s the bedrock on which they were built?” he said. “Necessary to life. Naturally occurring. And with the ley lines being defined as ancient causeways, that points to the lowest point of the structure. The bedrock or foundations.”
Lucie nodded. “And it shouldn’t be too difficult to chart where the ley line dissects the pyramid,” she said. “That’s the place to grab our sample.”
Jemma was watching the crowd, not only for pickpockets and the like but for enemies. The Illuminati may or may not have visited already; and Pang and Heidi, with their CIA resources, might pop up at any time like annoying, unwelcome meerkats. Cassidy and Yasmine were taking in the information and the pyramid itself with dubious eyes.
“If you’re correct,” Yasmine said, her black eyes squinting as a gust of wind whipped up the sand. “That means we have to get inside one of these pyramids and dig at a certain point. And the chances of that point happening to fall along one of the guided tour routes is pretty slim, even if we could dig without being noticed. What’s your alternative?”
Lucie stared at her. “There is no alternative. We just heard about this a day ago.” She lowered her voice. “We’re outlaws, running from the US. No support, no time. We have to make this work.”
Bodie was half-smiling. “Outlaws.” He rolled the word around his mouth. “I like that.”
“Then we need a way inside.” Cassidy was always proactive. “Of course, it’s highly secure and always on the lookout for thieves like us.”
“There are no thieves like us,” Bodie said. “We could infiltrate this place.”
“Given time and money,” Cassidy said. “Yeah, I agree. But, as our schoolteacher says, we have neither.”
“Hey,” Lucie protested half-heartedly.
Yasmine was studying the crowd, the locals, the hawkers and hasslers. The Moroccan had worked in this general area of the world for countless years and had a good idea of the kind of person she wanted. Several minutes passed before she said, “There.”
Bodie looked in the general direction but saw only crowds and dust. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific, Yas.”
“Follow me.”
Together, and warily, the group followed the black-haired woman through the tourist crowd to its farthest outskirts. Around the edges, several men stood and watched the activity, as if searching for people. Yasmine made a beeline for the last man in line.
“Tour guide.” She spoke in Egyptian Arabic.
The man frowned and gestured at the crowd. “You will find one. There are many.”
Yasmine smiled and shook her head. “After hours,” she said.
It was a simple request, and one that could be interpreted many ways. After a while, and a good deal of scrutiny, the man said, “Tour only. No pocketing. No dawdling. No pictures. Money up front.”
Yasmine agreed. The pair haggled on a price but not too much. Yasmine made sure the man knew they weren’t easy targets, assuring him they would be armed when they returned. To be fair, her demeanor wasn’t exactly soft and pliable, and the man didn’t seem surprised.
“After midnight.” Yasmine turned away from the man and gathered the team around. “We should be prepared for anything.”
Bodie thought the idea was as good as they were going to get and was pleased that Yasmine had taken it upon herself to handle the situation. That was how you became a valuable member of a team, and she knew it.
The group drifted among the pyramids for a while, getting the lay of the land but then, as darkness fell once more, headed through the nearest streets in search of food and drink.
Tonight, the relic hunters would creep into the Great Pyramid of Giza.
Life could be worse, Bodie thought with an inner smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Bodie hid a smile as their tour guide, a young man named Dakarai, led them to an entrance known as the “Robbers’ Tunnel,” as a chill
