TITLE: Something Lost, Something Found.

By : Aryea

Chapter 4

“What day is it?” Preston asked, quietly as he and Sydney sat by the fire they had built. She had acquired supplies for their trek along the river, as well as a pair of horses, and after traveling for a day and a half, they had settled by the riverbank to rest. Sydney had wanted to go on, determined to find Nigel’s body before the butcher’s started to carve him up, but Preston made her see reason. They had been going for the last thirty-seven hours straight, rarely stopping for food or rest, in their search for Nigel.

            “Thursday, I think,” Sydney said quietly. Nigel would know; he never seemed to lose track of anything, well except his mouth. She was beginning to suspect that Blount had sent them on a wild goose chase; there was nothing out this far, nothing but the river, a few clovers of trees, and miles of desert land in every other direction.

            “We’ll find him, Sydney.”

            Sydney nodded and finished off her coffee, before rising to climb the small sand dune and survey what lay ahead. Was there anything out there? They’d come so far and they had no way of knowing if this temple even existed. It was starting to get dark and with the setting of the sun, a familiar gloom settled over Sydney. What if she didn’t find Nigel’s body? What if Blount had called someone and they had already cut Nigel up and shipped off parts of him to…Her hand flew to her mouth, the urge to vomit besieged her. She forced herself to get a grip and compose herself.

            Her shoulder ached and she started rubbing it, absently. Physical pain seemed to be the only thing that distracted her from her thoughts of Nigel. She was startled when she felt a strong hand cover hers.

            “Let me put some liniment on that for you, Syd?” Preston offered, kindly.

            “I’m fine,” she dismissed.

            “Come on, it will make me feel useful.”

            Sydney smirked and untied the knot she had made in Nigel’s shirt, so she could pull it off her shoulders, revealing the black tank top beneath. “Thanks.”

            Preston poured the liniment into his large hands, warming it first, before rubbing it carefully into her bad shoulder. “You should be more careful or you’ll re-injure yourself, Syd.”

            Sydney didn’t comment, she wasn’t thinking about herself.

            Preston started to rub her other shoulder as well, trying to get her to relax a little and work out some of the tension she’d been carrying. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” he scolded, his voice soft, his hands soothing. “We will find him, but it won’t do either of us any good if you’re too exhausted to fight the bad guys once we get there, right?”

            Sydney nodded, her eyes closing as she gave herself over to the massage. “I know, I…I just want...to find him.”

            “I know,” Preston replied, rubbing in the last of the liniment and gently turning her to face him. “I do too.”

            Sydney stared at him, his face mere inches from hers, as she witnessed the pain in his eyes and her sorrow started to take hold of her again. “Oh, Preston. It’s all my fault!”

            Preston put his arms around her. “No, Syd. We’ve been over that.”

            Sydney clung to him, needing the physical touch of another like she never had before. “I miss him so much, already.”

            “I do too,” Preston whispered, as he caressed her hair and tried to calm her. “I can’t…it’s so hard to believe that he’s gone, really.”

As much as he did miss his little brother, he couldn’t help the feelings that Sydney inspired within him; he had been in love with the feisty relic hunter from the first time they had met, and had spent a good deal of his time trying to find reasons to see her. He’d only come up with one legitimate cause, since their search for Elizabeth’s ring, but the hunt for the vile from the fountain of youth lasted hardly any time at all. He’d been scheming to find another relic for her to hunt down with him, and of course a way to get Nigel out of the picture, so they could be alone, when Sydney had called about the accident.

At first he had been in shock, he had not really let the words sink in, until after he’d made the arrangements to fly to Egypt, and then when Sydney’s news finally did hit him, when he realized that his little brother had been killed, he felt all kinds of rotten for the plans he had been making. After much self-incrimination on the flight over, he was ashamed to admit that he was slightly excited at the thought of seeing Sydney Fox again. He should only be thinking about Nigel, he knew that, but he couldn’t help thinking about Sydney; especially now that they were doing exactly what Preston had been plotting to do, spending time alone, without Nigel.

His last thought was like a kick in the stomach. Here they were, alone and in each other’s arms, just as he had envisioned, and he was ready to give into his feelings and kiss the beautiful relic hunter, when the memory of why they were alone hit him like a shower of ice; they were only alone because Nigel was dead. He stepped back, ignoring Sydney’s startled expression. He couldn’t do it, he couldn’t take advantage of his brother’s death like that; perhaps once they found Nigel’s body and they both had time to grieve properly, he would pursue this thing with Syd, but not now; now was not the time.

“Preston?” Sydney asked, quietly. “Are you okay?”

   “Yes, sure,” he replied, moving back to drop the liniment back in his knapsack. “Just, you know, tired.”

Sydney nodded as she pulled Nigel’s shirt back on, leaving it open, since it no longer had buttons, and looked to the right, as a small glittering caught her eye. She blinked and shaded her eyes with her hand, looking across the landscape of sand. There it was a small glimmer, like a light bouncing off metal. A gun! No, it wasn’t a gun…She squinted and straightened, slightly. There it was again.

            “Preston!” she hissed, waving at him. “Get my binoculars!”

            Preston retrieved them from the knapsack and rushed up to her. “What is it?”

            Sydney peered through them and spied what looked the beginnings of a set of ancient ruins; almost invisible until the setting sun hit the rocks in just the right way, as it did now.

            “I think it’s the temple!” she exclaimed, sliding back down the dune and kicking at the fire, until it was out. “Com’on, get the horses.”

            Preston didn’t question her; they climbed onto the horses and headed up over the dune. They rode hard for about a mile and a half, kicking sand up behind their mounts, occasionally stopping so that Sydney could look through her binoculars again.

            “I can’t see it now,” she stated as they stepped up onto the opposite bank. “But I know I saw it…there!” She urged her horse forward, guiding it with one hand as she held onto the binoculars with the other. Preston followed. They seemed to ride a good ways, and the sky was growing darker, soon they would not be able to find their way.

            Preston stopped and stared at the mass of sand beyond. “Syd! Sydney, stop! There’s nothing here.”

            “There is, I know it.”

            “Perhaps, it was a mirage?”

            “Preston, I know what I saw.”

            Preston sighed and dismounted. “Look, Sydney, I believe you thought you saw something, but we’ve been going several days on pure spite, we’ve hardly rested or eaten and this desert sun has been beating on us every step of the way. It’s possible you…”

            Sydney leapt off her horse and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, her expression wild and unrelenting. “Do you want to find Nigel, or not?”

            “I…of course, but…”

            “Then trust me. I know what I’m doing. Nigel trusted me, he never doubted me, and he followed wherever I led and…” She paused as her voice cracked.

             She released Preston, as if suddenly realizing that she was manhandling him. She smoothed straightened his shirt, chagrinned. “I…Preston, I’m sorry I just…”

She immediately envisioned all the times that she had manhandled Nigel, redirecting him with a grab of his shirt collar, tossing him out of harms way, and sometimes into harms way as a distraction, and never once had she apologized, nor did Nigel every demand one. He had followed her wherever she led and he was killed for his unwavering obedience.

She knew that Preston was right. She could have imagined what she saw because of her desperation to find Nigel and her brain might conceive of anything to keep her going. She realized that they were headed away from the river and Blount had said that the river would lead to the temple. She was losing her perspective, not thinking and she never did that.

            Sydney sank into the sand, suddenly so exhausted that she could hardly think straight. She realized that their quest was probably futile, Nigel had been missing almost three days and she had only the word of a black marketer to go on that his body was still in Egypt; still intact. Oh, Nigel-I’m so sorry, I tried, I’m so, so sorry.

            Preston crouched beside her. “Syd,” he offered gently, sensing her desperation. “Sydney, I…I think it’s time we accepted it, Nigel is gone and…” He paused and blinked as a flash caught his eyes. He turned slightly and squinted in the direction he had seen the flash. He started tapping Sydney on the shoulder. “Syd! Sydney, over there, look!”

            Sydney turned and peered into the twilight, to where Preston was pointing. She looked through the binoculars, both of them afraid to move from their kneeling positions, that they might lose sight of it again.

            “I see it!” she declared. “Come on, it isn’t more than another mile.” Sydney had already started to mount her horse, her energy restored.

            They rode as close as they dared to the temple, and then paused atop the closest dune. They left the horses below and lay on their stomachs as Sydney peered down at the ruins, which were bigger than she had originally thought and were heavily guarded.

            “What do we do now?” Preston whispered, his eyes widening at the number of armed men walking the perimeter of the temple.

            Sydney was thinking that very same thing. If it were her and Nigel, they could create a diversion and she could count on Nigel to go with the flow and know what to do next, Preston was too green to try such a stunt, he’d probably get hurt and she had enough blood on her hands.

            “We need to get down there, maybe if we…”

            “Um…Sydney?”

            Sydney paused and the sudden stress in the Englishman’s voice and turned to find Preston now a few feet away from her with a gun to his head and Da Viega standing behind him.

            “Hello, Sydney.”

            Sydney’s fury was all consuming, that bastard dared to show his face; or rather half of his face, the other half was still covered with black leather to disguise his blinded eye and scars. “You!” She spun around, intent on getting her hands around his throat.

            “Ah, ah, Professor,” Da Viega warned, before she could even stand, pressing the barrel of the gun a little harder against Preston’s skull. “Whatever you’re thinking about, you won’t get to me before I put a bullet in your friend’s brain.”

            Sydney froze, glaring daggers at him as she watched him pull Preston back with him, away from the top of the dune. “Don’t think I won’t kill you the minute I get the chance, Da Viega,” she threatened.

            “I have little doubt of that, my dear, which is why I am holding the gun. Now, if you would be so kind as to come down here, slowly please.” Sydney started to rise to her feet, disguising her hand as she reached for her boot, “Careful. Throw that knife over here.” Her eyes narrowed as she pulled the knife out and straightened, her hesitation making Preston worry.

            “Sydney?”

            Sydney tossed the knife over to them and Da Viega made Preston pick it up and hand it back, where he stuck it in his belt.

            “Very good. Now, I know you’re angry, Sydney…”

            “Angry?” she hissed. “Why should I be angry, Da Viega, just because you killed Nigel!”

            Preston’s eyes widened. “W…what?”

            “He planted the bomb in the car that killed Nigel,” Sydney stated. “Then sent me a message to gloat.”

            “I sent you that message to warn you, Sydney,” Da Viega insisted. “I knew about the bomb, but I never put it there.”

            “Liar!”

            “Why would I? You’re no use to me dead, you or your little assistant, so what would be the point?”

            “What was the point of murdering Alistair Newel?” Sydney demanded as she took a step closer. “Was there any point in Jackson’s death, or your son’s beating? You have no rhyme or reason, no conscience, you do what you want to and you don’t care who gets in your way.”

            “You know the stakes involved in relic hunting, Professor. There are always casualties. Perhaps, if you had prepared your assistant better he wouldn’t have gotten caught in the crossfire.” Da Viega smirked. “But I see you had no trouble replacing him.”

            Preston was still dealing with the fact that the man who was now holding a gun to his head was responsible for Nigel’s death. He felt rage fill him as he listened to the arrogance in the man’s voice, the total lack of respect, and he suddenly swung his elbow behind him, catching Da Viega off guard, enough that Preston could scramble away.

            It was enough of a distraction for Sydney who charged across and kicked the gun from Da Viega’s hand, then delivered a solid right cross to his jaw. Da Viega managed to block her next attack, and countered with a backhand to Sydney’s face, which knocked her back into Preston. She surged forward for another go, and then halted abruptly, when Da Viega leveled his gun at her, having retrieved it from where it fell.

            “That’s enough,” he warned, wiping at the blood on his lip. “We don’t have time for this. While you’re trying to kill me you’re lessening your chances of finding your friend’s body.”

            “What do you know about it?” Preston demanded. “How are you involved in this?”

            “Let’s just say that the people you’re after, and I, have similar interests.”

            “This is about a relic?” Sydney hissed. “I should have known, you murdering son-of-a-bitch. Nothing stands between you and your precious treasures, does it?”

            Da Viega smiled. “In that regard we are much the same, are we not, Professor Fox?”

            “I am nothing like you!”

            “No? How many times have you disregarded young Bailey’s warnings just to get to a relic before someone else? How many times did you play with his life, Professor? Even in Cambodia, when we were after Confucius’ ashes and he begged you not to further, you still continued; knowing that I could kill either of you at any time. Why because you crave the hunt and above all you must win; so you see, we are very much the same, you and I.”

            Sydney was speechless, not because she was outraged, but because there was more truth in his words than she cared to admit. She did have to win, at almost any cost and she had put Nigel’s life in danger multiple times at the thought of losing a relic.  She never heeded her assistant’s warnings and despite his misgivings, he always followed her into danger. Now she was paying for her arrogance.

            “What’s this about Cambodia?” Preston asked, confused.

            “Never mind,” Sydney dismissed. “What do you want, Da Viega.”

            “A temporary truce? I help you find your friend and you help me recover that which was stolen from me.”

            “Steal a relic from the person who stole it from you, you mean? So you can sell it to the highest bidder? Forget it.”

            Da Viega shrugged, but his aim never wavered; he was no fool, he knew that until he had Sydney’s word of a truce, her anger still put his life in danger. “I know where they’re keeping him, Sydney. I can lead you there.”

            Sydney glanced back toward the temple, but Da Viega read her mind.

            “You may know where to start, but it is more difficult than you think. The Temple of Isis is heavily guarded, as you can see, and is also a maze of false corridors and traps, I’ve been there before and can lead you safely through to your assistant.”

            “Well that’s decent of you,” Preston agreed.

            “Yes,” Sydney sneered. “He’ll lead us safely in, but probably not back out.”

            Da Viega shook his head. “You’re so cynical, Sydney.” He smiled. “Good girl, you’ll go far. However, I agree to lead you out as well, only you’ll have to help me get what I want first.”

            “And I’m supposed to trust your word that you won’t leave us, or kill us once you have the relic?” Sydney shook her head. “I’m not stupid, Da Viega. I don’t trust you farther than I can throw.”

            Da Viega slowly started to lower his gun. “I’m not asking you to trust me, no more than I trust you, but you have to decide, what is more important? Finding your assistant and in the process helping me attain what was stolen from me, or holding on to your anger and having pieces of dear old Nigel shipped off to several different places? It’s your call, Professor.”

            Sydney blanched at his words and knew that she would have to agree to help him. “Fine, but this isn’t over, Da Viega, I still hold you responsible for what happened.”

            Da Viega holstered his weapon, and picked up her knife, which had also fallen to the ground, during their struggle. Sydney held her hand out for it and he smirked and wagged his finger at her as he placed it inside the pocket of his leather jacket. “Don’t be foolish, Professor, do I look stupid enough to give you a weapon?”

            “I thought we had a truce?”

            “Indeed, but I’d prefer this be in my pocket rather than my back.” He turned and indicated that they follow him. “There’s an easier way to get to the temple than crossing the river, you’ll be too easy to pick off that way.”

            Preston exchanged a worried look with Sydney, who had moved toward her horse.

            “Leave everything here,” Da Viega warned. “No one will steal the horses, but we’re better to travel light.”

            “Can we trust this fellow, Sydney?” Preston whispered as they followed the assassin.

            “No, but he’s our only way of getting Nigel’s body back.”

            Preston followed silently.

 

Continue to chapter 5