Exodus Read Online Free PDF Page A

in her side throbbing, but she also felt the buzz of interest, her mind sharpening as she considered the problem. This was what she loved about working with ARKANE, the constant new challenges, secrets they could find that she could never have been able to discover on her own.  
    Martin clicked his remote mouse and the screen changed to show security footage of the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities as an agonized scream rang out. Martin flinched as black and white grainy film showed a man spread-eagled between two statues. Martin looked away as the man was tortured but Morgan forced herself to watch the violence unfold.  
    Martin’s voice was matter of fact, trying hard to be removed from the sounds of the horror on screen. “You can see that the torturers wore head-dresses of ancient Egyptian gods. They are cult masks and from what I have been able to glean from the images, they are extremely well-made, indicating that they could be used for religious ritual and not just for this murder.”
    “Who is the victim?” Morgan asked, her voice sober in the face of his death.  
    “Dr Abasi Gamal. He is - was - the curator of the Amarna Period section of the Museum. He's written several books and a multitude of scholarly articles about the time and how monotheism spread in Egypt.”
    Morgan watched as the curator was tied to the sarcophagus and the knife plunged into the man's side. Even though she could only see the masks of the perpetrators, she knew that the falcon headed god Horus was Natasha El-Behery. She had seen the woman kill before and there was no hesitation, no flinching as she thrust in the knife. I’m coming for you , Morgan thought, studying the way the figure moved, etching it into her memory.  
    “Does this specific torture method mean anything?” she asked, trying to separate the gruesome images from understanding why the event had occurred.  
    “It’s the start of the mummification ritual,” Martin explained. “But of course, it was never meant to be done on a live human. The organs were extracted from within the body cavity and then replaced with linen and fragrant spices. The heart, liver, lungs and stomach were put into separate canopic jars, stoppered with the heads of the gods you see this group wearing as masks. The brain was extracted through the nose but as you can see, they didn't get that far.”
    Morgan watched, bile rising in her throat as the final chisel thrust burst out of the top of the man's head. The masks obstructed the face of the murderer but she knew Natasha’s eyes would be hard, without a trace of empathy. Morgan watched the scene to its end, for she would not turn away from the murder, nor would she turn from the task ahead of her. Finally, it finished and the screen went black. There was silence for a moment.
    “What have you found out about Natasha El-Behery?” Morgan finally asked.  
    Martin brought up the files and Natasha’s striking face filled the wall screen. She had the looks of a supermodel, but her eyes were as dead as a mannequin in a shop window.  
    “Her family are Egyptian aristocracy,” Martin said. “Her grandfather even provided men for digs alongside Howard Carter, the archaeologist of Tutankhamun’s tomb. Unofficially, her grandfather lined his pockets with the sale of antiquities to the West, stripping the tombs for artifacts that he sold to collectors.” Morgan raised an eyebrow. That was some heritage.  
    “Natasha’s father later became a great benefactor,” Martin continued, “restoring the ancient heritage of Egypt and piling money into attracting tourists even with the escalation in political difficulties. But we suspect the funding for his business came from shadier dealings, a global expansion in antiquity smuggling. There’s evidence to suggest he was one of the consortium that broke up the assets of the Baghdad museum after the invasion and arranged theft for hire on specific antiquities. He died five years ago and after his