Each time she pressed past Jacque she intentionally turned sideways and brushed against him as she maneuvered to the aisle. She knew what she was doing and knew the effect she was having on Jacque.
The effect wasn’t only physical with Jacque- she could feel the pent-up tension building within herself too. She let her thoughts muse about a rendezvous later with this handsome specimen of the male species.
It had been four years since her husband had been killed in the last Lebanoneze War and she had not sought any male companionship since his loss. She had been living in her own little world free of male interaction. The absence of any male relationships for so long a time contributed to this warm feeling within her body. This she had either kept suppressed or had long forgotten existed. Whatever the reason, something was beginning to rekindle this pleasant feeling; a feeling somewhat embarrassing for her to dwell on.
As she sat on the plane her mind ran through tantalizing situations she imaged with Jacque. She could not erase the thoughts of his rugged body in his skintight jeans.
Every time these thoughts arose she flushed a bit, a least she felt like she did.
Her face would turn a slight rose tint, but secretly she grinned. In her seat she tried listening to music on the earphones, flipped through magazines but she couldn’t get Jacque out of her thoughts.
No…! No…!
She knew proper young ladies were not supposed to have thoughts such as these but ‘Darn it! It felt good.’ A feeling she had not had for such a long long time.
* * * * * *
The fourth and final member of the expedition team, a former Special Forces Captain, was a good ol’ Alabama boy, Dr. Lonnie Joe Wheeler, MD.
Everyone wanted him nicknamed - 'Fightin' Joe' but Lonnie Joe preferred “LJ.”
LJ was a “real” doctor. “Not one of them post-hole diggers (PHDs)”, he would say. He had a propensity to drink hard and fight harder; a freckled faced, sandy-red headed southern brute a shade under 6 feet tall, stoutly built, strong as an ox and a lover of bar fights and Lynchburg, Tennessee’s finest - 80 proof Jack Daniel© corn whiskey. The black label not the green, served “neat” with a splash of water (not in the glass but in his face after the fight). He loved it so well he never knew when to stop drinking. It was usually when the bartender saw the bottom of the Jack Daniel© bottle or the fight started - which ever came first.
He sported a walrus style moustache and a constant scruffy three-day growth of beard. He had preformed his bar routine in ever tavern and gin-joint from Istanbul to Casablanca to San Francisco but mostly his nickname derived, not from his late night fist-a-cuffs as one would surmise, but from his G-G-Grandfather - the famous Confederate General Joseph 'Fightin' Joe’ Wheeler.
LJ was a medical doctor with an additional degree in Ancient Egyptian Studies; however his scraggly look suggested SCAR found him living under a bridge somewhere. He and Roche hit it off right away. If Roche could have a fondness for an officer then LJ would have been that officer - they were so much alike. And Roche thought, ‘He was more doctor than officer anyway.’
LJ’s ingenuity was legend. He was the type of ingenious mad scientist able to build an atomic bomb with a watch, a screwdriver and a pair of pliers. Oh yeah, and a piece of chewing gum. He could do it in a number of languages such as Russian, Arabic, Hebrew and Chinese. A number of other local dialects were spread in there too.
His forensics expertise, mechanical skills, along with his doctoring abilities could be quite handy and it went without saying - he was well able to handle any trouble encountered with any ruffians.
LJ’s Alabama home was only 20 miles from General ‘Fightin' Joe’ Wheeler’s plantation house which has now been named to the Register of Historical Places and a local tourist attraction.
This had to be LJ,s umpteenth time to venture into Egypt - he had served as the on site medical technician on a number of archaeology digs all over Egypt since leaving the Army. In fact, he had worked on Egyptian archaeological sites and befriended so many ‘expert’ Egyptologists he had become proficient in the reading of hieroglyphics. The local indigenous population simply knew him as ‘Duktoor’. Some of these digs were in such remote locations medical attention, in some cases, must be immediate; therefore, the need for on site medical personnel was imperative.
* * * * * *
The 106 temperature sign was still glowing bright red as the four Americans walked underneath its overhead structure and into the wide expanse of the Cairo International Terminal. Whoa! The air changed so fast from the furnace hot outside to the refrigerator coolness inside it almost took their breath away.
Dr. Scarburg stopped and called the others around, “We don't have to get Visa stamps for our passports. They were already obtained from the Embassy of the Arab Republic of Egypt on Massachusetts Street back in Washington. You see your Entry Stamp is already in your passports. The $15 stamp allows us to stay in Egypt, not just as tourists but as workers.” Motioning to LJ. “Lonnie Joe go over to the money exchange window and exchange this for Egyptian pounds.” As he spoke he handed Lonnie Joe a stack of American greenbacks.
“Dr. Lou... what is the exchange rate in case they try to cheat me.”
“5.7 Egyptian Pounds to a dollar or roughly 570 Pounds to 100 American Dollars.”
“The rest of us get in line at the Immigration window we will need to get the immigration officer to stamp our passports.”
Having been stamped, money exchanged and luggage retrieved they went back to the stifling heat outside and hailed a cabbie and directed the driver to take them to the Flairmount Nile Towers only a thirty-minute ride almost directly south from Cairo International.
Entering the taxi and seated Dr. Lou pulled one of the hotel brochures from his inside coat pocket. It read: “Flairmount Towers on the banks of the famed Nile River, the city of Cairo - “The Triumphant” in Arabic - is the center of Egyptian culture and commerce. Here, civilizations have met for centuries, and Cairo today offers a rich diversity of contrasts. Modern architecture and ancient mosques, urban sparkle and restful natural beauty, business and leisure and there’s no better way to experience the majesty of the city and its history than through the gracious hospitality of Flairmount Towers.” Upon completion of the brochure Dr. Scarburg took notice of his driver. Something seemed strange about him - but he was in a foreign country and things were supposed to seem out of the ordinary. But this did not seem to be the case. First the man was extremely small and even though night was approaching he was still wearing large sunglasses. Not just big, but overly large lenses and he was dressed in a golden uniform with a round golden medallion hanging on a large gold chain. Although Dr. Lou could not see the medallion it had images of an ox, a face, an eagle and a lion embossed on it. Most the other taxi drivers at the airport were not dressed in any semblance of a uniform. Why this one? His head was tightly wrapped with a gold colored keffiyah, the ancient headdress of the Arabs. Normally the Egyptian’s keffiyah were arranged with a white cloth. Dr. Lou dwelt on the driver for a moment or so and then focused his attention on the Flairmount as it came into view.
The taxi ride to the hotel was slow and hot. The streets were crowded and the lack of air-conditioning made for a much less pleasurable trip. Entrance into the magnificent Flairmount more than compensated for the past taxi ride - the air was cool and the surroundings lavish. Check-in was accomplished and a scenic outside the building elevator ride awaited to take the party to their spacious rooms. Leisurely entering the glass-enclosed cage Dr. Lou instructed the bellman to punch the 14th floor button.
As the elevator began its ascent the view was breathtaking. The vast expanse of the centuries old Cairo began to unfold below them. Off toward the southwest, the Giza Plateau, and the magnificent floodlight illuminated Great Pyramid rose into view as if watching the moon rising. Off to the south and flowing north almost beneath their feet was the river of the pharaohs - the Nile - what a wonderful sight. Breathtaking wasn’t a fit enough descri
ption; however, Dr. Lou could not enjoy the view - he could not take his eyes from the bellman - wasn’t this man their cabbie? Surely not! He wouldn’t have had time to leave the taxi and occupy the bellhop’s position - would he? ‘I wish I had paid more attention to our taxi driver’, he thought. But the golden medallion on the bellhop’s gold chain did catch his eye. ‘Was it the same or just similar?’
They settled into their 14th floor sparkling clean, spacious and most importantly - magnificently cool - four-star accommodations. The next order of business - a request to room service to bring up a supper meal. All the team members met in Dr. Lou's spacious room to sample the hotel’s culinary cuisine and a plan strategy for the next day. As the waiter entered their room with the cart of food Dr Lou couldn’t believe his eyes - the waiter appeared to be the same taxi driver or the bellhop! Or was he? ‘Am I being racist - do I believe all Egyptians look alike?’ With the waiter’s body enclosed in it’s golden uniform, his head covered and not being able to see the man’s eyes Dr. Lou could not be positive. As yet the cabbie, bellman or waiter had not spoken - not one word but as he removed the lid from one of the food items a sharp metallic ‘clank’ was heard. Turning toward the cart Dr. Lou noticed the waiter hurriedly pushing a beautiful round golden medallion back underneath his gold colored tunic. ‘Was this the same one worn by the bellhop? I wonder?’
If Lou had looked closer he would have seen the waiter was, in fact, the same person that had been their driver and bellhop. He had the body of...of...
...a small man in a golden suit adorned with an ethereal golden medallion and golden chain - watching their every move.
* * * * * *
Once the waiter closed the door Dr. Lou began, “Guys, and Gabby, here's why we came to Egypt. About 360 kilometers or roughly 216 miles to the southwest of Cairo is a small oasis called El-waha el-Bahariya. It means in Arabic 'Ocean Oasis.' At this site archeologists have un-earthed approximately 250 mummies in a place called 'The Valley of Golden Mummies' but the authorities believe there might be as many as 10,000 mummies buried in the vicinity.
The vast number is impressive but we are particularly interested in just one of these mummies, a woman, a shawabti or servant woman.
This 5 foot 7 inch tall female mummy was discovered covered with plaster. The plaster was decorated to resemble modern dress and modern jewelry; quite unusual thought the Director of Egyptian Antiquities. In addition to the female mummy, archaeologists found clay jars, glass vessels and humanoid masks. Director of Cairo and Giza Antiquities Mamoud Offifi, the archaeologist who led the dig, said the tomb has a unique design, some very unusual hieroglyphics on the walls, with stairways and corridors, and could date to as early as 1500 B.C.”
“Whoa... Lou we’ve seen mummies before. What makes this one so important to send a SCAR team all the way out here to the boonies to investigate her personally?”
“Glad you asked - speaking specifically about 'our' female mummy, underneath her centuries old plaster wrappings, she has a gold heart.
“Has a GOLD what?”
“Not her actual heart....her real heart, along with her lungs, liver and entrails were stored with her in her canopic jar. Canopic jars were an important part of the mummification process. The body’s internal organs were carefully stored in these jars. Hers were done likewise, but she actually has a gold heart, not in the jar, but it’s a locket around her neck suspended on a gold serpentine chain with the inscription...”
“What...? Who...? What are you talking about? Gold chain? What was the inscription.” They all clamored at the same time.
“Inside the large 14 karat gold locket is inscribed, in a modern jewelry engravers calligraphy script, 'Besten Wunsche Karl und Helga Friedman 25 Juli 1964'.
“No... Lou... someone is pulling your leg.” As a linguistics expert Gabby easily recognized the quotation, “German... it says ‘Best Wishes Karl and Helga Friedman, July 25, 1964.’ The locket was a wedding gift...it can't be very old...forty to fifty years tops... and besides July 25th, Lou you know that’s yours, Buds and my birthday. And the locket with the name 'Friedman', this has got to be someone's idea of a morbid joke.”
“Yeah Gabby, we at SCAR thought so too - at first; however Carbon-14 dating has confirmed the 3000 year death date. Gabby the reason our CIA Director requested you be assigned to this expedition... the date... the name. You understand now?”
“Yeah... yeah... I’m beginning to.”
“I know it's a lot to absorb but I haven't given you the 'piece de resistance' yet.”
Gabby was the first to ask what all the others wanted to say. “You mean there's more?”
“Yeah...encased inside the locket, in what we later analyzed to be beeswax, was a coin.”
“A coin? Coins weren't even invented in 1500 BC, what was it really?”
“Do you all need to sit down...nah...I'll just tell you - it was...was...”
“Damn Lou, I'm getting ready to smack you...tell us..,” said Gabby.
“It really was a coin. A brand new shiny American 1967 dated Dime!!”
You could have heard a pin drop.
“The backside pocket of the locket contained dust. Tests using gas chromatography reveal the powdery residue left inside had been a picture at one time. Now only its 3000 year old dust remained.”
Finally LJ spoke. “You've got to be kidding? Tell us you're joking.”
“No I'm dead serious and we're going there to see her and her locket for ourselves.
I was going to wait until we examined XM-78, the mummy we are going to see, but I believe the time has come to enlighten you on SCAR’s “full” mission...settle down, get comfortable, refresh your drinks this is going to take a while.
* * * ~~~ * * *
CHAPTER EIGHT
FORTY-THREE YEARS EARLIER
“I really do not know where to begin - or how to start,” said Dr. Scarburg. “I’m going to tell you what was told to me by my brother Forrest. It’s a hard story to understand much less believe but it’s true - however strange you will find it. I’ll give you the facts but it was Forrest who personally experienced the phenomenon.
“I’ll just begin at the beginning…
“Forrest slipped into Pa Scarburg’s basement gunroom and managed to burglarize, well burglarize is maybe to harsh a word, actually he found Pa’s hidden combination to his huge grey two-door metal safe.
“Once he gained access to the safe’s innards he discovered a vast amount of U.S. Army and CIA documents; documents attesting to the fact that our great-grandfather had being awarded the Medal of Honor for heroic action in Vietnam. Along with the certifications for the awards of various military medals to both Great-Grandpa and Grandpa Scarburg Forrest found, what he thought was an odd looking clock.
This ‘clock’ turned out to be what we now know was a ‘Mindtraveler’. It, somehow, transported Forrest back to 1967 Vietnam.”
“What do you mean ‘transported?” Asked Lonnie Joe.
“This ‘Mindtraveler device caused Forrest to experience what could only be described as an out of body manifestation. While in this state he witnessed Papa Scarburg, known as Big ‘S’ and Pa Scarburg who is called Little ‘S’, leading a Special Forces A-Team mission from Vietnam into Cambodia. They were searching for a place called Pac Toul and the answer to the question: What is “The P.H.O.T.O.?”
Roche jumped in. “Why did they call them Big ‘S’ and Little ‘S’. Was it because of the ‘S’ in the name Scarburg?”
“Well I wasn’t going to get into that explanation but what the heck - you all need to know. I’ll have to back up a bit...
“Before the mission to find Pac Toul Papa Scarburg had been on an earlier A-Team mission into Laos but he and his team were captured and he was shot in the head and side. After capture he along with the remaining team members were marched deep into Cambodia. In Cambodia they were taken to a jungle stronghold. There a Russian Special Forces Colonel tortured him by cutting a larg
e ‘S’ into his chest. The Russian was trying to get him to reveal information on something called The P.H.O.T.O.
“Troops from the 1st Calvary Division finally arrived and rescued him; however, afterwards he had to spend several months in an Army hospital in Vietnam.
“Pa Scarburg was a Captain in the Special Forces also and visited him in the hospital. Pa brought Official Orders assigning Papa Scarburg the Pac Toul mission to discover the meaning of The P.H.O.T.O.
“Meanwhile, before Papa left the hospital Pa Scarburg had his chest tattooed with a little ‘S’ just like the scar Big ‘S’ had on his chest. Okay for the names. The nurses at the Army hospital gave Papa Scarburg the nickname Big ‘S’ and the tattoo gave Pa the nickname Little ‘S’.
To speed things up I’m going to skip everything up to the part where they went on the mission to find The P.H.O.T.O.
“Pac Toul was reported by the CIA to house a secret facility working on a new tele-communication method and maybe the answer to The P.H.O.T.O resided at Pac Toul also.
“Big ‘S’ and Little ‘S’ parachuted an A-Team into Cambodia with Spook and ten more A-Team members. They found Pac Toul and a young woman named Ling Lu. Ling Lu had been abducted from her home in Taiwan and was being forced to work for a group of aliens. Ling Lu was only one of a number of scientists that had been kidnapped to work at Pac Toul.
“Spook? Ling who? Aliens? Who in the heck would want to intrude secretly into Cambodia without being ordered to do so. Who are these people?” Asked LJ.
“Intrude? Intrude? You mean intruders?”
“No...no...Aliens...real Aliens...extraterrestrials...like from out there,” he said pointing toward the ceiling. “Dr. Spurgeon Loo Kim is ‘Spook’ and Ling Lu or ‘Tinker’ as she is now known are co-founders of SCAR. These are the people we currently work for.”
“Wait a minute. You really mean REAL extraterrestrials?” Giving no thought to the revelation of Spook or Tinker, their attention was caught by the word ‘Alien’.
“Yeah...you got it...visitors from outer space...but these ‘men in silver’ as they were called turned out to be somewhat the ‘good guys’. During the developing firefight that ensued at Pac Toul the Aliens tried to protect the abductees/captives but something went wrong and a bunch of the scientists were killed. Now I have told you the condensed version of the story to get you to this part of Forrest’s ‘vision’.