"Take over for a while."

"Aye Captain. Which course?"

Mufasa showed him on the chart.

"Steady as she goes."

"Aye Captain."

Mufasa took the new pistol from his waistband, checked it and put it back. The crewman was watching him and Mufasa slapped him, not hard, across the back of the head.

"Just you worry about our heading."

"Yes Captain."

Mufasa left and descended the steps to the upper deck, he then descended more steps to the crews quarters. He met the first mate as he was coming up the stairs. The mate 'Domingo' was surprised to see him.

"Captain?"

"Down. Down," Mufasa instructed.

They descended to the next deck.

Mufasa took the mate by the arm, quickly checking that no one was in earshot.

"Are all of our crew on board?"

"Yes Captain."

"How many Germans?"

"The one in the white suit, two in grey, one in black."

"That's all?"

"Yes Captain. The one they call the doctor insisted we leave. I tried to explain that hardly any of them were on board but he didn't care."

"I know! He ordered me. Ordered me! Captain of my own ship to do as he instructed. Only one person around here gives the orders and that's me. However I'm not concerned with that for now. Did you see that thing they bought on board?"

"Yes. They wouldn't say what it was. But I know it's a thing for burying the dead, important dead. I don't need to be a doctor for that."

"Yes but what's inside it."

"I told you it's for burying the dead."

Mufasa shook his head.

"No way. What would these German devils want with it? They're not interested in someone dead. Why, you can buy mummies on the market."

"What do you think it is then?"

"Treasure! Has to be."

Domingo's eyes lit up.

"Why else for all the secrecy if it's not treasure. You saw how the crane struggled with it, how it took all of them to move it. And why was the doctor so desperate to get away once the shooting started. It has to be treasure. Why I bet that thing is filled with gold."

"Gold?"

"Yes," Mufasa pulled out his pistol "And I want my share."

Down in the hold Von Brest was taking measurements which he was entering into his log. Length, width, breadth. Approximate height he estimated. The sarcophagus was hollow inside, containing the, as yet, unopened remains of Alexander the great. The lid was six inches thick.

Finished with the measurements he began to sketch the various hieroglyphs and the royal cartouche. The lighting down here was poor and he had to try to hold a lamp one handed while he sketched. Finally finding it too difficult to do both he called to one of the three Germans on guard outside to assist him. The Wehrmacht man saluted him.

"Herr Doctor?"

"Hold this lamp for me. Shine it where I direct you. That's it, keep it there for a moment."

Mufasa and Domingo came down the steps to the hold, four of the crew with them. Each of them had concealed weapons.

"Halt!" the SS man ordered.

Mufasa stopped, Domingo behind, the others poised on the stairs.

"State your business," the SS man kept his MP40 low but all could see that it could be used in an instant.

"This is my ship," Mufasa said, his hands extended in a friendly gesture, "I merely wish to speak to the Doctor."

"The Doctor has said that no one is to disturb him. No one is allowed down here below decks."

"I am the Captain. This is my ship," Mufasa said, matter of fact, sounding calm.

"I am sorry Captain. My orders are to let no one down here."

Quick as lightning Mufasa pulled out his pistol and shoved it in the SS man's face. The guard was caught unawares and instinctively levelled his MP40 at Mufasa as the rest of the crew drew their guns. Koenig's man hadn't had a chance to react and he raised his hands in surrender.

Now it was six on one.

Mufasa smiled.

"My men won't hesitate to kill you."

"We are acting under the direct orders of the Fuhrer Adolf Hitlera."

Mufasa cut him short.

"Do you think that means anything here, now? We only want what is rightfully ours."

His men behind him, all agreed.

"Now what's it to be?" he asked, moving the pistol closer to the man's face. The SS man lowered his machine gun. He could have killed Mufasa and possibly one or two of the others, or possibly wound them, but not all six. They would have killed him in retaliation. Mufasa took the MP40 from him. Domingo took weapons from the other German.

"Now," Mufasa said putting his hand on the SS man's shoulder and turning him to face the door, "Let's move. Open it."

The heavy door creaked as the SS man opened it. The soldier holding the lamp turned and moved the light around to better see. It was just one of his colleagues.

"Keep the light here please," Von Brest said grabbing the soldiers arm and pulling the lamp closer. The man raised his hand in front of the light to see the SS man better. Then he watched in confusion as his colleagues were shoved forward and Mufasa's men spread out. Then he saw the guns and the lamp was falling to the floor as he ran for his rifle propped against a crate. A shot from Mufasa's pistol caught him in the leg, slowing him. A second spun him around and threw him backwards into coils of rope. Mufasa calmly walked over and fired three more into his chest to finish him off. Domingo picked up the fallen lamp. Von Brest was cowering with his hands over his head in the dark. The noise from the handgun in the confined space had been deafening. He turned slowly as the lamp came near, its light reflecting off his round spectacles.

"Herr Doctor," Mufasa called in a soft voice.

Von Brest looked up at him incredulously.

"Mufasa! What in God's name are you doing? Have you gone mad man?"

"No not mad Doctor. Not mad!"

"Then what is the meaning of all this?"

"Me and my men want a bigger percentage."

"Impossible! You are being paid quite enough."

"Doctor may I remind you of who is holding all the guns."

"You mutinous scum. You'll not get away with this."

Mufasa laughed.

"You should not have insisted we sail when you did. With none of your Germans on board," Mufasa turned to Domingo, "Tie them all up."

"What do you want?" Von Brest asked as a crew member bound his hands behind his back.

"I told you we want a cut. Our share of the bounty."

"What bounty? What are you talking about?"

"Doctor we may seem like simple people to you but we are not stupid. We know you've got something in this stone cratea."

"This is the tomb of Alexa."

"You expect us to believe some cock and bull story about Mr Hitler wanting this as a gift. Look at it. What could he possibly want with it? Noa." Mufasa held Von Brest's face with both hands and stared into his eyes, "He wants what's inside."

"You've got it all wrong Mufasa. There is nothing inside to interest you or your men. I swear it."

"We'll see when I open it."

Von Brest was horrified.

"No Mufasa you mustn't open it. I beg you! I'll triple your salary."

"Not enough. Take them topside," he ordered one of his men.

"When we get to Malta they'll hang you," Von Brest shouted as he was bundled up the stairs, "You'll not get away with this."

"I'm afraid my dear Doctor that I already have."

Domingo waited until they were gone.

"What he says is true Captain. They'll hang us for sure."

Mufasa thought for a moment. Then made a decision.

"Get up to the bridge. We sail for Algiers. Plot the course for the helmsman then get back here and help me to open this."

Once on deck Domingo saw the three captives were sitting in a group huddled against the biting, cold, wind. The Doctor appeared to still be complaining about their situation. Domingo watched as the dead body was brought up and tossed over the side.

"Any trouble from them?" he asked a crewman watching over the captives with an old rifle.

"The Doctor is complaining endlessly."

"Herr Doctor just remember that the Captain spared your lives. Or if you would prefer you can feed the fishes," Domingo said, his voice accompanied by the laughter of his crewmen.

Von Brest shut his mouth and sulked.

"That's better," Domingo waved his gun and put it in his pocket, "You'll get no more trouble from him. Now I must report to the bridge."

The man at the helm turned as Domingo opened the door and stepped onto the bridge. The helmsman had the chart out in front of him. Domingo followed a line with his finger until it came to a stop on the island of Malta.

"Malta Domingo! Malta! And for us money, real cash. This will be the most we've ever earned. I'm going to spend mine on the best whore money can buy."

"We're not going to Malta."

"Eh?"

"The captain has taken the German's prisoner. There is gold in that box of theirs. The Captain is convinced. A ton of gold."

The helmsman's eyes lit up at the prospect. Then a dark thought.

"The Germans will kill us," he said instinctively feeling for the pistol in his waistband.

"Not where we're going my boy."

Domingo pointed on the chart. The helmsman pushed Domingo's finger out of the way so he could read the place name.

"Algiers? Algiers is good."

Domingo put crosses on the chart.