<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.thefashionisto.com%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2010%2F02%2Fbenhillcampaign1.jpg&amp;hash=b0be5d67a7be4342efbd4dd633d1253f" href="https://www.thefashionisto.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/02/benhillcampaign1.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><u>Jack</u></a>was watching the Main Street as he leaned back in the drivers seat. A rental, he had still found something of his liking. He cursed at his own stupidity. He had gone to a classic car company, what good was the sunny Californian weather, when you couldn't drive a car with a bit of showing off? So he had gotten himself a<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fgearheads.org%2Fwp-content%2Fuploads%2F2014%2F01%2FLincoln-Continental-Convertible.jpg&amp;hash=5f68bd5657c9c42138aa5f1e0501309d" href="https://gearheads.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/01/Lincoln-Continental-Convertible.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><u>Lincoln</u></a>built in 1966. God. Kennedy rode a stretched one in Dallas, he was sure of it. And now, his whole plan might get shot because of his stupidity to rent a very special car. He stuck out like a sore thumb.<br/><br/>He knew by now the woman of his interest should be running past soon enough. It was still early, the shops hadn't opened yet in this small LA suburb. Close to the beach, he could basically smell the ocean. And within a short drive to the UCLA. An area frequented by rich and happy people. So different than where he grew up. Another muttered curse, again about his own stupidity. He had just flown into LA early that morning without much of a plan. He had learned with the SAS (British elite army unit) that you could plan ahead, but sometimes that showing up was enough.<br/><br/>It was the SAS that had gotten him to this point. The south of Egypt, training army units for then Mubarak, though he was sure the current Egyptian army under Al-Sisi got the same service from the Brits. Their old colonies were never released completely. Though with Egypt, well... the whole Suez crisis had changed a lot. But ties were quickly reestablished back then. The blistering sun, that what had gotten his mind in gear this morning. Well. Even in California it wasn't as blistering as there. But the sun shone in his eyes and he was instantly transported back to the deserts in the south. Far enough away from the fertile Nile that flowed through the country. They had wound up stuck when their Land Rover suddenly died down in the middle of nowhere. Now he knew it was because he was called, but back then it was just an annoyance: racing along the sands as an instructor to desert driving for a few of the Gypts. Ending up half dried out and found eight days later. As the only one surviving.<br/><br/>They had dug in, trying to find some shade. And there, he had found it, the first bit of wall, a man made object, just mere inches below the surface. The days he had been stuck meant slow process. The three companions weren't interested. Half mad of thirst, in the end each individually would see mirages and try to find those beautiful oasis of cool water. Only to end up with a mouth full of sand and life leaving them.<br/><br/>Not our trained man though. He dug at night, slowly, just as a distraction. He had found artifacts, golden statuettes and a few small wooden boxes. In it bracelets, necklaces, basically jewelry. Somewhere deep down, there was a bracelet of a pure quality. A scarab on a weaved pattern of gold. He was now sure that this bracelet had kept him alive. Every night he would slide that bracelet onto his wrist as he dug for more. In the end, just hours before help arrived, he had felt the need to load up all found objects into the Land Rover... an urge he could not deny. He didn't know back then though, what he had found.<br/><br/>Leaving Egypt three months later was perfectly fine. The conundrum was though; how to smuggle this windfall of objects out of the country. In the end, that wasn't going to work. He knew SAS checks were vigorous. So he had found several traders in Egypt itself. Of course his booty would have brought higher gains in Europe, but the stuff wasn't his to begin with. The bracelet fetched a spectacular high price. He had worn it the night before he had parted with it. And that was when the realization came. Where the three Egyptians in that desert had seen fresh pools of water, mirages all of them, he had seen a dog like creature to talk to. It spoke to him in a tongue he understood and he spoke back in that same language. He was sure that it was all an illusion. That night though, he had spoken to Set again. The upper god. The one who chose Faraos. The one who had called him. The visions were powerful. Visions of priests wearing this bracelet. Visions of services for the people, row upon row of them as the work behind them had stopped. Work with huge building blocks. He was sure he had been there, with the construction of temples like Karnak.<br/><br/>He should have kept it. Now he knew. But then, he didn't want anything to do with it. He wanted the bracelet gone as soon as possible. The next morning, without any hesitation, he had dropped it all off at the contact. And in return... he earned himself well over a million quid. With careful consideration how to get that sort of cash out of the country... he had been paid in Bitcoins. Just introduced back then. Just over a dollar in worth. Over the period of ten years that first million had funded a vacation or two, but not much more as he was in active service. Now... he had enough to live of interest. Having converted most of his start up capital to pounds. But there were still about 50K in bitcoins on his account. He had given up on the day to day currency exchange rate. He would lose or gains millions each day.<br/><br/>It didn't matter though. Four years after Egypt, six years ago now, he had quit the SAS. He had been searching for clues, to retrieve what had called him to that spot in the desert. He knew he was close now. He could sense it. A search would come to an end. Somehow he could feel the powerful call of the bracelet. His eyes were on the deserted street. She should drop by here soon enough. With a light sigh he got himself out of the car. In his own running gear. Shorts, t shirt, gym shoes. Two blocks and he would be in the park where she made her rounds.<br/><br/>He had hired a private eye to spy her out. With someone of his net worth (the last bitcoins were worth 10K each, getting him to nearly half a billion) he could spend the cash needed. By the time he had traced the primary buyer he had sold it off too, it had been a lot easier. The man was long gone, died on Tahrir square during the Arabic spring. He had found relatives and in the end he had gotten a couple of items from the man himself at a steep price. The seance that followed had been extremely tough though. The bloke had died a violent death. A troubled spirit now, he would rant and rage. It had taken Jack days to get the information out of the essence of the man.<br/><br/>From that point it had taken four sellers, four buyers to find to mother of Amber. By now he knew of their violent death. He was sure it had something to do with the bracelet. Apparently she had taken it home with her, but he couldn't be sure. The bracelet had left a trail of despair, death and violence. He was sure it longed back for its master, it longed to be back with him.<br/><br/>The last years he had been on a quest. From the moment of the visions he had found he could alter things, he could touch people's minds, he could flex time. The first time that happened, where he had brought a plant to full bloom with a thought and an ancient chant he didn't even know he knew, he had been scared. The down to earth, well trained and disciplined man had changed into something more. He had tried to get help, all sorts of people who called themselves wizards, witches, mediums who would confer with 'the other side'. Most were charlatans, without any sort of powers. They would prey of gullible people, use psychological manipulation to get results. Just two of the people he had sought out were actually what they said they were. He had visited historians, archeologists anything to find out more about the strange powers he had gained. Old texts were scoured through, questions were asked, visits again to Karnak and other temple sites...<br/><br/>A gentle chant was muttered from his lips. A small spell for good luck, nothing manipulative yet. The park, his feet thudding on the asphalt. No one else there. Would he be found by someone else? Or would she be the first. Pressure of tree roots made the path bubble up at certain points. He looked for a good spot during his run... there. Toes against the upended asphalt and he tumbled with a curse. Even though it was deliberate, the body still braced. Soon enough he was sprawled on the ground. One knee bled slightly, his ankle seemed twisted. He grinned for just a split second as he lay there. Yes. This was perfect.