Read Online Tales of the Red Panda: Pyramid of Peril by Gregg Taylor - Free Book Online

there.”
    “Is there any particular reason why the Eye of Anubis should be in Alexandria?” the Red Panda asked.
    The Old Man seemed surprised. “Alexandria? Why , no,” he said. “The Eye is where it always has been. Within the very heart of the first and greatest of the pyramids.”
    “The pyramids?” the Red Panda said, astonished. “The Pyramid of Cheops?”
    The Old Man just laughed until his wiry frame shook. The Red Panda’s brows knit. There was nothing inside the Great Pyramid except for a burial chamber deep within, long since discovered. The entire structure was almost solid rock. There certainly wasn’t a temple to Anubis inside. He was about to say so when the curtain opened in the doorway and a young woman appeared. She was strikingly beautiful, but Fenwick could not help comparing her with Behiti, who, he had to remind himself, did not actually exist.
    “My apologies, Grandfather,” she said , “I did not know that you had company.” The girl inclined her head slightly, and her long, black hair shone in the firelight.
    The Red Panda started. The girl’s hair was uncovered.
    “I beg your pardon, sir, if this seems like an odd question,” he said quickly, “but is there any reason why you should have been offended had I brought into your house a young woman with her head uncovered?”
    The Old Man seemed puzzled. “Why , no,” he said, “the customs of our Mohammedan neighbours are-”
    But Fenwick was already on his feet and out the door. He raced out onto the road where the serious young boy still held his vigil over the car, now keeping his fellows at bay with a stick. Fenwick sprinted up the hill, cursing himself for a fool as he ran. As he came to the lip of the hill, he found the first of the thugs, lying face down, quietly bleeding all over the soft sand. He raced on and looked up, expecting the worst.
    The toughs who had served El-Nemr were strewn about the area in all directions, all in various states of unconsciousness. Kit stood in their midst, bent over slightly with her hands on her knees as if catching her breath. This happened sometimes when they fought in civilian clothes. A erial maneuvers took it out of you without Static Shoes to give that extra lift.
    Her hat had been knocked off at some point, and her shirt looked to be slightly torn at the neck and shoulder. The wider-than-usual neckline and her posture meant that more of her was on display than normal, but he was too relieved to see her alive to properly appreciate it.
    She grinned at him, and gave the side of her mouth a quick wipe with her hand in case there was any blood on her lip.
    “What kept you?” she asked.

Nine
     
    Ten minutes later, the Red Panda lowered the last of Kit’s assailants back down to the ground. The burly man was unconscious again, but this time it was less due to a roundhouse kick to the side of the head and more because of the hypnotic interrogation he had just undergone.
    “Nothing?” Kit said from the boulder where she sat, waiting. Punching was more fun than waiting.
    He shook his head. “The ir English is none too good,” the Red Panda said, “and my Arabic is just this side of non-existent. But no. None of these men know the names Pavli or Thatcher, and only one of them knew the name El-Nemr.”
    “Big surprise,” Kit snorted . “Why would that jerk have told us anything true?”
    “Because he wanted us to lead him to Max,” the Red Panda said, placing his palm over the man’s face, his outstretched fingers on the temples , “and he couldn’t have known what we already knew. Some truth was a small price to pay. Besides, I detected no deception in the man.”
    “Up to and including the fact that he tried to bushwhack me?” Kit asked sweetly.
    The Red Panda held his free hand out toward her for silence for a moment while he concentrated his mental powers. “Sorry,” he said at last, “the language barrier makes that tricky.”
    “You erased their memories?” she