Page 50 of Major

The boy stepped forward, swinging the bat at him. Alistair gripped the handle, ripping it from the boy’s hand. He shoved him backwards, causing him to fall to the street. The boy was wide-eyed but also humiliated in front of his friends.

“See, you went at him all wrong,” said Sebastian, gripping the bat. “Never swing for the head. He’s too tall, too big. Swing for the knees.” He moved so quickly the boy couldn’t move as the bat cracked when it hit his knees or the knees cracked. Sebastian wasn’t sure. The boy screamed out as another boy came forward with his bat.

“Slow as shit, aren’t they?” frowned Garr. He swept the boy’s legs, causing him to fall backwards. Stepping on the hand gripping the bat, he took it from him and leaned into his diaphragm with the bat. The boy gasped for air, staring up at him.

“We told you not to do it, but you didn’t listen.” Garr gripped the bat in his hands and snapped it over his knee. “Come at me again, and that’ll be you.”

The boys wisely backed up, not willing to turn their backs on the enormous men. Entering the address into the GPS, they took off north toward Cambridge.

“I’m hungry,” said Garr.

“Me, too,” said Forrest. “Hey, there’s a fish shop up there. Fish and chips, real fish and chips.”

“I won’t tell George you said that,” smirked Major. “Alright, stop. Quickly.”

Sebastian stopped to order several orders of fish and chips, including a few extras. Just in case. With an orange soda for each man and their fill of fried food, they continued their drive. The entire car smelled of fried oil, but the men’s bellies were full.

“What do you really think is in the crates?” asked Forrest.

“I don’t know, brother,” said Major, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I want to know, nor am I sure that others need to know. Sometimes things are best left alone.”

“Aren’t you curious?” asked Sebastian.

“A little, I guess.”

“Man, I’m dying to know. I was disappointed that those crates were gone. But Daphne was right. Those crates were big and heavy. You couldn’t just lift them out of there. They’d have to be placed in a large truck, covered.”

“All I care about right now is finding Elena’s father,” said Major. “I won’t have him haunting my wife’s dreams.” Text messages sounded throughout the car.

“It’s Brix. They made it back. She’s in pain but will heal. He says Elena is doing fine. He won’t tell her about seeing her father or about Efram.”

“I’ll have to tell her sooner or later,” said Major. “I won’t keep secrets from my wife. Not if I don’t have to.”

“Spoken like a man truly in love,” laughed Sebastian.

“Is that funny?” frowned Major.

“No, brother. Not funny. Ironic coming from the man who swore off women except to scratch an itch now and then. Suddenly, you can’t think of your life without her. I think it’s cool, brother. I hope that Em and I have the same thing.”

“You will,” said Forrest. “She loves you, and you love her.” The car was quiet, then the rustling of a paper bag made them turn to see Sebastian digging inside.

“What the hell do you have?” asked Garr.

“Sweets. Licorice Allsorts, they’re a favorite here, and I like something sweet after dinner.”

They could only shake their heads, laughing at the boyish antics of their friend. Major just smirked at his friend.

“You need to make an appointment with Londyn when you get back, or Em will never marry you. No woman likes a man without teeth.”

CHAPTER THIRTY

Aasad moved slowly and carefully around his crowded apartment. He’d gathered items for years to prove his theory of what was in the sarcophagi. Books, papers, other artifacts, anything he could get his hands on.

Had people died? Suffered? Of course. Fame comes at a cost, and he was going to be sure it wasn’t at his cost.

When he’d first heard of the possibility of what the tomb held, he laughed it off. He didn’t believe in religion of any kind. He didn’t believe in Christianity, he didn’t believe in Judaism, and he didn’t believe in the Egyptian gods. He believed in what he could hold in his hand.

When the Egyptian and British governments asked him to lead the dig, he was somewhat shocked. There were other more famous, more successful archaeologists. But there were none that were more willing to share credit and quietly go about his business than Aasad Fayek.

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