Without Hinges, Key or Lid

Oneshot. Written for the Yaoi Challenge on LJ.

*** *** *** ***

Crawford left the elevator, his footsteps echoing loudly in the all but empty underground car park. Reaching his vehicle, he opened the door, slid into the driver’s seat and slipped the key into the ignition.

“You owe me.”

Crawford turned the key and the car engine purred into life.

“For doing your job?” he replied as he fastened his seatbelt. “I don’t think so.” He didn’t bother to grace the speaker with so much as a glance.

“My job description does not include being bored out of my fucking mind.”

“Read the fine print,” Crawford suggested as he put the car into drive and headed out of the parking garage. “Put your seatbelt on. I don’t want a ticket.”

Schuldig ignored him. The fact that he hadn’t wanted to do this little eavesdropping job in the first place had forewarned Crawford that his telepath would be in full whine by the time it was done. Forewarned was forearmed. Crawford opted for diversionary tactics.

“What wasn’t Takatori telling me about this job?” he enquired as he squeezed his vehicle into Tokyo’s late afternoon traffic.

“Not much,” Schuldig said. “Some shady antiquities dealer on Takatori’s payroll has contacted the old man about a map he’s found in the contents of a deceased estate.” The German let out a short laugh, directing his attention out the side window of the car. “Takatori’s pretty fucking excited about it.”

“What sort of map?” Crawford wanted to know.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Schuldig turn his head to look at him. “He told you we’re going to Egypt, didn’t he?” the German asked.

“Yes.”

“Then what sort of map would you expect it to be?”

“I’m not fond of guessing games, Schuldig, which is why I’m asking you to tell me what sort of map it is.”

The telepath made a short, sharp noise. “You take the fun out of everything, you know that?” Knowing the question to be purely rhetorical, Crawford didn’t bother to reply. He simply waited for the answer which Schuldig soon provided. “Tombs,” the German said, his tone derisive. “It’s Egypt, what else would it be but a map of tombs.”

“What will we be looking for?” Crawford asked.

“A mask - like the one found on Tutankhamun.”

“The death mask?”

“The big gold one, yeah,” Schuldig nodded affirmation. Crawford waited but Schuldig decided the conversation had concluded and moved on to other matters of importance. “Since we’re not leaving until tomorrow afternoon, I think I’ll take myself out for a night on the town.”

“Whose mask?” Crawford asked, feigning disinterest in the German’s plans for later.

Schuldig turned his head to look at him.

“Huh? Oh. Nefertiti,” the telepath supplied. He directed his attention out the front window and gave a short laugh. “Takatori’s almost creaming his designer duds at the thought of getting his slimy hands on the thing.”

No surprise there, Crawford thought. Anyone possessing that artifact would be able to name their own price on the black market, and there was no doubt that would be its fate. Takatori was not a collector of antiquities who wanted the mask for himself, nor was he a great humanitarian who was going to donate the mask to the Egyptian Museum. This rare artifact was of interest to Takatori for one reason only - the price it would fetch.

Not that Crawford cared. He was hardly a great humanitarian himself. But a trip to Egypt might be interesting, although he doubted he’d enjoy the long flight. Being stuck on a plane with Takatori for almost twenty-four hours was cruel and unusual punishment by anyone's definition. But at least the trip would mean a change of scenery and, this time of year, the weather in Egypt would be bearable. Yes, the more he thought about it, the more the idea appealed to him.

The rest of the journey home was completed in silence, except for when Schuldig sang along with snatches of songs in his head and tapped out the beat on his thighs. He’d obviously gotten over his chagrin at being bored and was clearly looking forward to his night on the town.

Crawford, long used to Schuldig’s ways, chose to say nothing and just drove.

*** *** *** ***

They’d been back in the apartment less than half an hour when the vision hit. It lasted only a few seconds and when it was done, Crawford opened his eyes and gave a small, malicious smile. Always one to appreciate schadenfreude, he was feeling particularly pleased with the turn of events that had just been revealed to him.

Of course, timing was everything when it came to getting the best result from any situation, and Crawford prided himself on his impeccable timing. He continued to work while Schuldig showered and dressed in preparation for his night of drinking, dancing and anonymous sex.

When the call he’d been expecting came in, Crawford let the phone ring three times before answering, but he didn’t need to speak with Takatori to know there’d been a change of plan. All the same, he listened politely as his employer blustered angrily about idiots and deceit and theft. When the call was over, Crawford allowed himself another small smile before putting away any signs of amusement and heading for the door

He arrived at Schuldig’s door just as it opened. Seeing the American made Schuldig pause. He stood there, one hand still on the door knob, giving Crawford a look that combined annoyance, denial and resignation in unequal quantities.

“There’s been a change of plan,” Crawford said simply.

“No, god fucking dammit!” Schuldig protested loudly. “I was going out.”

“You’re still going out - to the airport,” Crawford informed him without an ounce of sympathy. “Get your things. We leave in ten minutes.”

He turned and walked away, ignoring the colorful cursing behind him. Schuldig would recover from his disappointment but he'd be on a short fuse until he had.

Fifteen minutes later they were heading for the Takatori residence, where they would collect their boss and exchange Crawford's car for the luxury of the limousine that would take them all to the airport. On the drive over, Crawford explained that the executor of the deceased estate had foolishly shown the rare Egyptian map to another antiquities dealer, one even shadier than the dealer on Takatori's payroll. The map had now, not so mysteriously, disappeared.

Schuldig was still seething at being denied his night out by this turn of events, so it was easy to believe him when he muttered, "I can't wait to get my hands on the fucker."

From the back seat came the soft snick of the poniard and Farfarello's raspy, "It'll be fun."

Schuldig continued looking straight ahead and gave a nasty smile. "Hell, yeah."

*** *** *** ***

Takatori proved to be in as venomous a mood as Schuldig so, despite the lack of a vision warning him of impending disaster, Crawford was on tenterhooks the whole time they were cloistered in the vehicle. With Takatori and Schuldig at flashpoint, all it would take was one wrong word and the German would lose his tenuous hold on his temper. If that happened, their tenure as bodyguards to Takatori would be in jeopardy. Such a scenario would displease Eszett and it would certainly displease Crawford. So he did his best to keep the two volatile tempers tamped down until they either reached the airport or one of them had calmed down - and the airport seemed the more likely source of relief.

Unfortunately for Crawford, relief wasn't that immediate and they’d been in the air for almost two hours before he felt things had cooled enough that he could relax a little. He'd spent the first hour or so with Takatori, watching him down bourbons and listening to him bitch about the stupidity of the executor and the loss of the map and what he planned on doing about both. Now the old man had laid his seat back and was half asleep, his head turned to the covered window.

Schuldig had also had a couple of drinks which seemed to have cooled his anger and now he and Farfarello were wearing headphones while they watched a movie. Nagi was busy on his computer, and Crawford joined him.

"Found anything of interest?" he enquired as he fell into to seat beside the boy.

There was a short pause before Nagi spoke. "Nefertiti was the chief wife of the heretic pharaoh, Akhenaten. She was made famous by her limestone bust which is now in the Altes Museum in Berlin and today, in the west, she is one of the most famous queens of Egypt, second only to Cleopatra. She disappeared from the records towards the end of Akhenaten's reign and the events surrounding her death and burial remain a mystery." He stopped, his gaze still on the laptop screen. "Of course, given how reviled her husband was, it's no surprise that, when she died, her burial place was kept a secret." He glanced at Crawford. "There are those who believe that, upon his death, the pharaoh's body was thrown to the dogs."

"A rather ignominious end," Crawford muttered.

"Hmm," Nagi agreed. "But," he drew a breath and looked back at the screen, "given the fact that there are no records of a burial place for queen or pharaoh, and no mummies have ever been conclusively identified at those of Nefertiti or Akhenaten, it's understandable that Takatori is anxious to get his hands on this artifact. Its worth is inestimable."

Crawford looked at the boy, who turned his head and gave his leader a smile that contained nothing but contempt for their employer. The American returned a smile of agreement.

*** *** *** ***

Crawford woke from a restful sleep, moved a little in his seat and resettled, hoping to doze off again. But even as he closed his eyes, he knew the few hours he'd slept were enough that he wouldn't be able to sleep again so soon. He persisted for a short time before admitting he was wide awake now. Sighing, he brought his seat upright and checked his watch. It was 2.45am, Tokyo time. He had no idea where they were along their route, but he knew there were still too many hours left before they reached their destination.

The low hum of the engines reminded him he was on a plane, as did the seat that was making do as his bed. The lingering stench of cigar smoke reminded him whose plane this was. He was going to need a very long, very hot shower and some serious dry-cleaning to rid himself and his clothes of the sickening smell.

He turned his head, looking around the dimly lit cabin, and saw he was the only one awake. He drew a deep breath and sat still for a moment or two, before pushing up out of his seat and making for the bar.

As he fixed himself a drink, he realized he’d need to relieve his bladder before he could settle down with his bourbon and a book and enjoy the quiet that everyone else being asleep afforded him.

Drink poured, he turned for the toilet. He wasted no time there; except a brief moment to check his reflection before leaving. He opened the door…and took an involuntary and hasty step backwards as someone pushed into the small room with him. It took less than a second for him to realize who his unexpected companion was.

Schuldig didn’t look the least bit sleepy. He gave a short laugh, obviously amused at having caught Oracle off-guard, before smiling seductively and closing the door behind himself. Asking what Schuldig thought he was doing was a waste of breath. It was very clear what the German was thinking and what he planned on doing.

“Our membership in the mile-high club is about to lapse. Time to renew it,” Schuldig said, his tone low.

Pale hands reached for Crawford and slid inside his suit jacket. He offered no protest. Instead, he stepped up against the German, and wrapped his arms around him, holding him close and leaning in for the kiss Schuldig was only too willing to share.

Airplane toilets were anything but roomy, and neither Crawford nor Schuldig were what could be called compact. What they were, though, was determined. Both were men used to getting what they wanted by whatever means necessary, and a little awkward discomfort was not going to prevent them achieving their goal.

By the time their clothes were unbuttoned and unzipped, Schuldig was backed against the wall and they were both panting heavily. Crawford rested his forearms along the wall, either side of Schuldig’s head, and pressed up against his telepath, eliciting a low moan from the other man. Lowering his head, Crawford caught Schuldig’s lips in another long and passionate kiss and ground his hips harder against the German’s bony hips.

Crawford may not have been thinking about sex even a few minutes ago, but it was the only thing on his mind now. He wanted, very badly, to fuck the telepath who had instigated this surprise bout and even as desire tried to sweep all before it, he was still considering how he might have his wish.

His first concern was that he didn’t have any condoms with him. They were in his wallet, which was safely snuggled in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, which he’d carefully draped over the back of a vacant seat soon after take-off.

A sensual groan from Schuldig brought Crawford back to the present, and he decided to forge ahead without condoms. He drew himself back a little from Schuldig’s lithe body and urged the telepath to turn and face the wall. With that done, Crawford reached to the hand lotion on the sink and, employing a deft one-handedness, pumped some into his palm. He wasted no time in prepping the German before sliding into him.

Both men let out deep, low moans at the sensation. Crawford paused momentarily before commencing to thrust, dragging another groan from Schuldig. He began slowly but it wasn’t long before need forced him to quicken his pace.

As their need became more desperate and their breathing faster and louder, Crawford reached down and took firm hold of Schuldig’s cock, pumping in time with his thrusting. The German had lost the ability to speak by now, and was making inarticulate sounds. Crawford tightened his hold a little and thrust harder.

He loved this feeling; loved having sex. In particular, he loved having sex with Schuldig. The German was, to be blunt, a great fuck. Not that he’d ever say that aloud. No need to stroke Schuldig’s already overblown ego. Besides, Schuldig already knew he was better than good.

Right now, Schuldig gave a low, almost desperate, moan and came, his warm seed spilling over Crawford’s hand as his ass muscles clenched tightly, sending the American to the brink of release and beyond.

Less than ten minutes later, they’d cleaned themselves up and returned to their seats. Schuldig settled himself comfortably and closed his eyes, his exertion in the toilet obviously having made him tired enough to actually sleep.

As he lowered himself into his seat again, bourbon in hand, Crawford was thinking that sex in the toilet of a plane might be exciting but it left one less than fresh. A shower would be nice, but he’d have to wait until they landed before he was allowed that luxury.

He glanced across at Schuldig, who appeared to have fallen asleep already. Crawford sighed and sipped from his glass. He just knew the rest of the flight was going to be dull by comparison to the last half an hour.

*** *** *** ***

When they arrived in Cairo it was mid morning, swelteringly hot and suffocatingly humid but they didn’t have to suffer the conditions for long. They were escorted to an air-conditioned vehicle which whisked them away from the air conditioned airport to an air conditioned hotel. Takatori had phoned his contact as soon as they’d landed, and arrangements had been made for them all to meet at midday.

That allowed Crawford time to take his much desired shower and change into a lightweight suit. By the time he led his team to Takatori’s suite, Crawford was feeling much better than he had for hours.

Entering the suite’s living room, he saw Takatori - drink in one hand, cigar in the other - talking to a tall, thin man who had to be the antiquities dealer. Both turned at the sound of the door opening and Takatori gestured them over - needlessly - as they were already making towards the two men.

“Come and meet Johann Thalberg,” the politician said in a way that sounded like an order.

Thalberg surveyed them as they approached, a small smile on his lips, a neutral expression on his face. However, as they were introduced, it was clear Thalberg was taken aback to learn this strange assortment of humanity made up Takatori’s team of bodyguards. Nonetheless, he smiled politely as they were introduced and acknowledged each member of Schwarz with a nod.

Once they all had drinks, Takatori invited them to sit and, when they were all comfortable, the politician looked at his dealer.

“Perhaps you’d care to let me know the current status of this situation,” he invited, his tone chilly.

“As I explained, Mr. Takatori,” Thalberg began, “I was invited to examine a map which formed part of a deceased es…”

“We know all that,” Takatori interrupted with a sharp wave of his hand. “Tell us what we don’t know.”

Thalberg didn’t bat an eyelid. He was clearly used to dealing with the bad-tempered bastard. “I spoke with my contacts less than an hour ago and they tell me that Dominik Roost, the man who stole the map, left Cairo yesterday. I suspect he’s headed straight for Amarna.”

“Then we go there, too,” Takatori decided. “Now.”

“We’ll need a vehicle,” Thalberg said. “I know someone who’ll loan us his Land Cruiser – for a price.”

“Do it,” Takatori ordered. “Meet us back here in an hour.”

Thalberg nodded, set down his unfinished drink and departed. Takatori kept his bodyguards another five minutes to sort out a few details before they were free to go. As they headed back to their rooms to prepare for the drive, Crawford looked at Nagi.

“How far between here and where we’re going?” he enquired, confident the boy had done all the research needed and then some.

“About three hours,” Nagi replied.

“Fuck,” Schuldig muttered. “That Land Cruiser better have air con.”

“Maybe a haircut would help alleviate some of the heat,” Crawford offered.

Schuldig gave him a derisive look. “Only if you make the trip in nothing but a thong,” he challenged.

Crawford felt the mental image accompanying that remark completely unnecessary; sharing it with the other two, doubly so.

*** *** ***

The Land Cruiser could seat seven people, eight in a pinch, so there was more than enough room for five grown men and a slender teenager. Takatori chose to sit up front with Thalberg; Crawford and Schuldig took the next row of seats, needing the leg room, while Farfarello and Nagi sat in the last row.

The vehicle had air conditioning, but that didn’t make the drive any shorter. What did help was that Schuldig dozed off after about twenty minutes, effectively ending the German’s mental whining about every little thing that annoyed him. Up front, Takatori and Thalberg discussed probabilities and possibilities, while from behind was only silence as Farfarello and Nagi took in the desert scenery.

By the time they reached El-Minia it was late afternoon. Takatori was annoyed at their distance from the ancient site of Amarna – still an hour away - but he accepted Thalberg’s decision to base themselves in the city.

Since it was already late in the day and because Thalberg had things he needed to do before they could move forward, they were left to their own devices until dinner time.

Crawford opted for his room, his laptop and a drink. He worked in peace for maybe ten minutes before he heard a familiar voice shout from outside. Rising, he went to the balcony doors, opened them and stepped out into the late afternoon heat.

Looking down, he saw Schuldig and Farfarello horsing around in the hotel’s swimming pool. Not surprisingly, they had the pool to themselves. If Farfarello’s appearance hadn’t frightened off the other guests, Schuldig’s selfishness would have ensured they’d all decided they’d had enough fun at the pool for today.

As he stood watching the rough-housing, there was a knock at his door. He called for whoever was there to come in and soon Nagi was at his side. The boy looked down on the two men below.

“I was coming to see you about Farfarello,” he said then turned his attention to Crawford. “There’s a Jesuit ministry in this city.”

Crawford absorbed this information then said, “I haven’t foreseen any trouble of that kind. I’m sure we’ll be too busy on the other side of the river for him to learn about the priests.”

“Just so you know,” Nagi replied, his gaze moving to the pool again. “Schuldig’s going to get burned if he’s not careful,” he remarked before turning and leaving.

Wouldn’t be the first time, Crawford thought to himself.

*** *** ***

Dinner was pleasant enough, even if Thalberg’s waffling did irritate. Afterwards they retired to Takatori’s rooms to discuss plans for the following day. Thalberg was certain he knew where Roost was staying and his sources were certain the man’s search had, so far, proved fruitless. Thalberg looked to Takatori for directions; Takatori had no hesitation in handing the matter over to Crawford.

Thalberg fixed Crawford with a fevered look. “The sooner we can get that map in our hands, the better for us,” he said.

“Yes, of course,” Crawford replied, keeping enough civility in his tone to make Thalberg wonder if he’d imagined the undercurrent of scorn.

“Yes,” the dealer said hesitantly, his gaze still on Crawford as he tried to determine the exact tone he’d heard. Then he seemed to give up and focus on the matter at hand. “Yes,” he repeated, before looking at Takatori. “I recommend that, once we have the map, we waste no time in getting to the location.”

::Where did Takatori find this guy? He’s a master at stating the fucking obvious,:: Schuldig mocked.

::At least his lackeys have tracked down Roost,:: Crawford bluntly pointed out the telepath’s failure.

::Natives who speak the language and know who to ask,:: Schuldig replied defensively.

Crawford refrained from reminding Schuldig that he had, on more than one occasion, boasted that, given an hour in a new country, he’d be speaking the language like a native. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a sulky telepath.

Of course, Schuldig didn’t have to be sulking to be annoying. The ensuing discussion between Crawford and Thalberg about Roost, his possible location and how many men he may have hired to protect him in his search, was not made any easier by Schuldig’s mental snipes and questionable observations. Takatori didn’t help, either, interrupting to ask questions and offer unwanted advice. Crawford could block Schuldig but he couldn’t shut out Takatori.

By the time they were done, Crawford was ready to strangle someone – anyone; although his telepath, his Japanese employer and a Swiss antiquities dealer were high on his list of preferred victims.

He was more than happy to lead his team out of the suite and back to their rooms. As soon as he’d closed his door, Crawford headed to the small table that held the glass and a bottle he’d purchased earlier in the day. He poured himself a generous serving of bourbon and drank down more than half of it before turning his attention to his laptop and work.

He Saw the interruption a few minutes before it happened. When the knock came at his door, he didn’t look up from the laptop screen.

“Come in, Schuldig,” he said loudly enough he could be heard.

The door opened and the telepath stepped into the room.

“Remind me never to try organizing a surprise birthday party for you,” he quipped as he made his way over to where the American sat.

“I do hope that thought has occurred to you before now,” Crawford replied without humor.

Schuldig perched his ass on the table beside the laptop. “If you’re going to be surly, I won’t tell you what I’ve found out,” he threatened. “In fact,” he continued in that tone that suggested a thought had just occurred to him, “if you can see the future, why can’t you see what I’ve come in here to tell you?”

Crawford drew a patient breath. “Why are you here, Schuldig?”

“We’re stuck in this one camel town, and there’s nothing to do. I’m bored,” the telepath replied.

Crawford refused to look up at the other man. “That’s not why you’re here,” he corrected, ignoring the inaccurate description of the city.

Schuldig deserted his perch momentarily before returning with a glass in his hand. “Don’t you ever get tired of always being right?” he queried.

Now Crawford looked up from his laptop screen. “What I get tired of, Schuldig, is you beating around the bush. I’m trying to finish up some work before I go to bed, so get to the point and then get out.”

Schuldig, who’d been reaching across the table for the bourbon, turned his head and scowled briefly at the American. The expression soon dissolved into a knowing smirk.

“I’ll tell you what I came to tell you then I’ll go and you can be alone with your right hand and your porn,” he jibed.

Crawford ignored his words, watching as he poured bourbon into his glass, and waiting silently. Schuldig took a sip of the alcohol, made approving sounds before drinking down a couple of mouthfuls. Only then did he look back at Crawford.

“Roost is where Thalberg’s contacts say he is but, after first light tomorrow, he won’t be,” the German divulged.

“Where’s he going?”

Schuldig merely cocked an eyebrow at his leader. “To the tomb, where else?”

“Which is where?”

“Well,” Schuldig said slowly, “I can’t be one hundred percent certain about that, but I figure we’ll end up in close enough proximity.”

Crawford considered this for a moment or two then nodded. “Good,” he said. He checked his watch before looking back at the German who was finishing off his glass of bourbon. “Tell the others we’ll be leaving before daybreak.”

There was silence for long seconds, then Schuldig said, “Done,” and reached for the bottle again. After refilling his glass, he topped up Crawford’s drink. “Are we taking that idiot dealer with us?” he asked.

“We don’t have a choice,” Crawford replied and reached for the phone.

He’d just hung up after talking to Thalberg when he felt the familiar tingling that heralded a vision. He relaxed and let it come. When it was over, he picked up his drink and looked at Schuldig, who was watching him closely, aware of what had just happened. “This will be done with tomorrow,” the precog said.

Schuldig smiled and held his glass out. Crawford returned the smile and touched his glass to the German’s. “Prost.”

*** *** *** ***

Crawford awoke to darkness, the sound of his alarm and the press of another body against his. A body that was comfortable and familiar. Last night it had been too easy to allow Schuldig to stay; too easy to indulge his lust for the redhead; too easy to allow the Germans’ talented mouth and fingers to arouse mind-numbing passion and then sate it; skillfully, completely.

All of which meant that Crawford was feeling very contented and at peace with the world, despite the unspeakably early hour. He reached across the sleeping German and killed the annoying buzzing. Then he lay back and rested a few minutes more, using the time to plan the day ahead for himself and his team. Satisfied that things were organized to his liking, Crawford pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed, heading for the shower.

Just over thirty minutes later, he and Schuldig were making for Thalberg’s room. As accustomed as he was to dealing with a sleepy, surly telepath, Crawford had little trouble rousing him out of bed and into the shower. The German’s mood had improved somewhat by now and he informed Crawford that Thalberg was ready and waiting for them.

Also waiting was Farfarello; his back against the wall beside the closed door to his room. The Irishman silently fell into step with his team mates as they passed. Nagi had been scheduled to stay at the hotel this morning, but those arrangements changed after the vision and he’d been instructed to be ready to leave with the rest of Schwarz.

Thalberg opened the door after the first knock, indicating just how eager he was to be making a start. As they made their way downstairs, Crawford suggested to the dealer that silence might be preferable, given the early hour. Thalberg stopped his excited babbling immediately.

Once outside, they piled into the Land Cruiser and made their way towards the river where, Thalberg informed them, a contact would be waiting to ferry them across.

Crawford hid his smirk as he wondered just how much all this was costing Takatori. Then he turned his thoughts to more pressing matters.

::Has Roost made his move?:: he enquired of the telepath.

::Not yet, but he’s about to.::

::How many men does he have with him?::

::I’m picking up six – all heavily armed.::

::Let me know when he moves.::

::Well, since you asked so nicely…::

Crawford ignored the jibe, continuing to look out the vehicle’s side window and into the darkness beyond.

They’d just driven off the ferry and onto the opposite bank when Schuldig advised that Roost was on the move.

::But, oops, he forgot to take the map with him,:: the telepath added.

Crawford allowed himself a small smile at Schuldig’s dramatics but said nothing.

It took some time to reach the hovel Roost was using as his headquarters, but when they did, Thalberg couldn’t believe their luck that his rival had left the map behind. He wasted no time in opening and studying it closely, muttering to himself the whole time. After several minutes, he reached inside his jacket and withdrew another map, opening it and laying it beside the first.

Crawford and Schuldig waited with differing degrees of patience while, outside, Farfarello dealt efficiently with someone who’d unwisely come to investigate what was going on at Roost’s supposedly empty hut.

Within minutes of the Irishman following Crawford’s orders and disposing of the body, Thalberg straightened and smiled at his two companions.

“I know where to go,” he said, barely managing to contain his jubilation. He grabbed up the two maps and headed for the door.

*** *** *** ***

They’d left the road ten minutes ago to travel at the back of the hills that faced onto the El-Armana site. Now Thalberg brought the Land Cruiser to a halt. He climbed out into the pre-dawn morning and flattened the maps on the hood of the vehicle, pulling a small torch from his pocket. Crawford and his team remained where they were, watching as Thalberg examined the maps then turned and peered around at the slowly lightening landscape. He looked back at the maps briefly, then at the landscape, then gestured to the others to get out of the vehicle.

“We’re almost there,” he said as he came up to the open car window.

Crawford glanced at Schuldig.

::He’s on the right track,:: the telepath confirmed. ::They’re not too far away.::

Schuldig’s confirmation was all Crawford needed.

::Do it,:: he instructed.

“Come on!” Thalberg urged, barely able to contain his excitement. “Let’s…”

Sense vacated his eyes and he stood there silent, slack-jawed and staring.

“Get him in the car,” Crawford said as he moved to the driver’s seat.

Thalberg moved under silent instruction, climbing into the front passenger’s seat.

Now, Crawford thought, we wait.

*** *** *** ***

Hours passed and the sun climbed higher in the cloudless sky. Crawford moved the Land Cruiser a short distance into the deep wadi nearby, taking advantage of the meager shade available while they continued to wait. He was grateful that Schuldig was so occupied with keeping Thalberg in check and keeping tabs on those within the tombs. The German was not good with waiting. In the back seat, Farfarello was amusing himself with his knives, while Nagi occupied himself on his laptop.

Then, just after midday, Schuldig started suddenly.

“Jesus,” he muttered as he got himself under control again. Crawford looked around at him querulously. “They’ve found it,” Schuldig informed him. “And about fucking time, too,” the German added sullenly.

Crawford looked into the rearview mirror and met Farfarello’s expectant one-eyed gaze. “You know what to do,” he said.

The Irishman was out of the vehicle almost before Crawford had finished speaking. Crawford gave him several minutes head start then drove the Land Cruiser further into the wadi, eventually bringing it to a halt beside Roost’s vehicle.

They climbed out into the stifling heat of the day and made for the entrance to the tombs. Just inside, Farfarello joined them again. Apart from substantial blood spatter, there was no sign of the two men who’d been guarding the entranceway. Crawford fired up the lamp he was carrying and ventured further into the dark passageway. The others, following his lead, did the same.

Utilizing unfair advantage, it wasn’t long before they’d closed in on their prey. The men were still celebrating their marvelous find; laughter and excited chatter an easy guide to their location.

Schuldig took great delight in turning them on each other. Roost shouted, angry and incredulous, over the sounds of gunfire until a bullet silenced him as well. Farfarello dealt with a thug who became alarmed at the turn events were taking and tried to bolt for safety.

When it was all quiet, Crawford led the way inside the well lit chamber. There were other artifacts strewn about the room, but his gaze went straight to the mask lying beside the body of the fallen Roost. Moving to it, he lifted it carefully and examined it closely, looking for any damage and finding none.

It wasn’t exactly like the famous mask of Tutankhamun, but it was still awe-inspiring. Beautifully crafted in solid gold, the queen’s regal image was adorned with lapis lazuli eyebrows and eyeliner and she wore an ornate necklace set with precious stones. Crawford looked into the inset eyes of the mask and wondered about the worth of what he held. Priceless was his best guess.

“So beautiful,” came Nagi’s reverent tone from beside him.

“Yes,” Crawford agreed, his gaze still on the mask. “Yes, it is.” After a moment he looked around at Thalberg. “Is there anything else of value in here?” he enquired.

Released from Schuldig’s control, the first thing Thalberg did was panic at the sight of the bodies in the chamber. His startled gaze flew to Crawford, his mouth already forming questions. Then he saw the mask and all else dissolved under his awe.

“Oh,” he breathed. He began towards Crawford then stopped, unable to move closer.

“Is there anything else of value in here?” Crawford asked again, his tone one of lessening patience.

“The mask…” Thalberg insisted.

“You can look at it once you tell me what I want to know. If you don’t hurry, the site police will arrive and they’ll take the mask. Is that what you want?” Crawford threatened.

Thalberg gave the mask another glance before reluctantly turning to the task at hand. Schwarz waited patiently while the antiquities dealer examined the other items in the chamber. When he declared them all of little value, Schuldig took him under control once more, just as his gaze returned to the mask Crawford held. There was a short battle of wills; Thalberg’s desire to get a closer look at the mask at odds with Schuldig’s desire for him to remain where he was. The telepath won out after a short struggle.

Crawford watched them a moment longer, ensuring the German had the upper hand. Satisfied this was the case, he glanced around the chamber.

“I think it’s time we left the dead to rest in peace,” he said and headed towards the doorway.

Outside in the passageway, they waited while Nagi caused the chamber to collapse in on itself. Because they didn’t want to attract attention by bringing the whole tomb complex down at once, Nagi continued to instigate small, controlled cave-ins as they moved towards the exit. Once outside, Nagi completed the job beautifully. To the casual observer, all there was to see was an undisturbed cliff-face.

Crawford was impressed by the boy’s skill and congratulated him on a job well done. Then he turned and led his team back to the Land Cruiser. Once there, he carefully wrapped the mask and stowed it in a backpack for safe-keeping. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and started the vehicle’s engine.

He was feeling hot and sweaty, gritty and dusty, and he was more than happy to be leaving this place. He was even happier that the map had turned out to be authentic and he was leaving with the job accomplished.

*** *** *** ***

Two days later and safely back in Japan, Crawford set the mask on a shelf in one of his many bookcases and stepped back to examine it. They’d smuggled it out of Egypt without anyone giving it a second look – not even customs. Making use of an idea straight from Thalberg’s head, some plastic and some paint they’d made the priceless artifact look like nothing more than a cheap, tawdry souvenir.

When they’d arrived back at the hotel in El-Minia, Crawford had handed the backpack to Schuldig before going with Thalberg to see Takatori. Due to the telepath’s work on the journey back to the hotel, Thalberg had been convinced they’d found nothing of worth in the tombs. This was the story they’d told Takatori who was, suffice it to say, less than pleased with the way things had turned out. Crawford had left him still thundering at the apologetic Thalberg.

There were even more pleasant memories, like their final night in Cairo. It had started with an early evening visit from Schuldig, and the words, “Come on, Brad, don’t you want to find out if it’s true that sand gets into everything?” It had ended with a deliciously wanton session of fucking inside the Great Pyramid. Crawford’s experience led him to think that sand got into most things but Schuldig assured him that it did, in fact, get into everything.

The following day, Crawford and Nagi had done some sight-seeing and that afternoon they’d left Egypt. Thalberg, still out of favor, had been left to make his own way back to Europe.

That had been two days ago. Now they were home again, their sojourn to the land of the pyramids nothing but a collection of memories. Well, Crawford thought as he gave the mask another satisfied smile, memories and a souvenir. When he deemed the time was right, Crawford would dispose of the mask, raking in a small fortune for it. Until then, it would sit in all its gaudy glory on his bookcase a reminder of one of their more interesting missions.

Crawford sighed as the phone on his desk rang. He already knew who it was and what he wanted. Back two days and it was business as usual. He went to the desk and sat down, lifting the receiver, ready to listen to Takatori’s plans on how to pull Masafumi back into line.

*** *** *** ***