Above the largely deserted industrial district, some distance from the centre of Cairo, the heavens immediately opened; the adventurer sprinting as fast as she was able to escape the torrential downpour. Fleeing no little distance on foot, Sandy was finally able to flag down a passing taxi; its windscreen wipers working overtime all the while as she hopped into the rear seat, the car cruising somewhat sedately towards the Gazira district of the city. Soaked to the skin, Sandy eventually emerged from the vehicle as it pulled up outside the Suntrap Hotel, paying the driver with what little of the local currency the pockets of her cargo shorts contained; soon she had arrived safely back at the penthouse suite.

"Where the heck have you been?" quizzed Roxy, rising from a sofa inside the suite's living area; the assistant had seemingly recovered sufficiently from her bout of travel sickness by now.

"I've been a bit tied up!" exclaimed Sandy, seating herself somewhat exhausted upon the sofa, "And now all I want to do is slip into a warm, relaxing bath before calling it a night! However there simply isn't the time, for it would appear Rosie has been kidnapped, and I suspect the museum is about to play host to a party of unwelcome visitors once again!"

"Rosie's been kidnapped? By who? What's been happening while I've been asleep?" wondered the assistant in alarm.

As a brief but violent flash of lightning flickered across the rain-lashed window overlooking the island, Sandy soon related the tale of her visit to the Egyptologist's apartment and subsequent abduction at the hands of Dodgy Giza's men; narrowly avoiding an appointment with a wooden crate, not to mention marriage to some wealthy sheikh.

"And now, I need you to track this storm, because somehow I suspect it may be supernatural in origin!" she requested, "In which case, I doubt the local weather channels will have much to say on the matter! You can hack into the weather satellites, can't you? Find out where this freak storm has originated from?"

"Well of course I can, I'm the world's best hacker bar none! That's why you hired me!" grinned the girl, fetching her laptop from her luggage; fingers fast flashing across the keyboard.

Tracking the sudden storm, the techie traced its source via satellite imaging to Luxor; soon spreading north to settle above the streets of Cairo. Yet as the wind direction was apparently blowing east, it seemed Sandy's theory that the stormclouds apparently possessed a mind of their own was correct; the epicentre appearing to be above Tahrir Square.

"Tahrir Square! That's where the museum is located!" exclaimed Sandy, "So, it is as I suspected - this is no freak storm at all!"

"So what are you suggesting, that these creepy cultists summoned up some adverse weather with, like, witchcraft or something?" wondered Roxy.

"Not witchcraft exactly, but yes, an ancient summoning spell!" confirmed Sandy, "Examples of such appalling deluges can be found throughout recorded history, including the Great Flood!"

"Wait a minute, are you saying Noah's Ark and all that stuff was real?" gasped Roxy in astonishment.

"Maybe not Noah's Ark, but certainly there are stories of an unnatural flood, first recorded in the legends of the ancient Mesopotamians, with geological evidence supporting its occurrence uncovered around the site of the Sumerian city of Shuruppak!" confirmed the adventurer, "But that's enough history for now, we need to gain access to the museum's vault before these fanatics do!"

Soon, Sandy had slipped into an outfit far better suited to the task at hand, consisting of a tight white cotton vest, tan-coloured combat shorts and biege hiking boots, a small brown leather backpack slung across her shoulders; unfortunately for the adventurer there had not been time to purchase any weapons, for she felt certain she would soon find herself depending upon a pistol or two before the evening had ended.

As the pair hurried into the hotel lobby and out into the torrential downpour threatening to flood the streets, Sandy was forced to flag down another taxi, for the hire car remained parked outside the Egyptologist's apartment in New Cairo; fortunately she had had the foresight to replenish her funds to pay the fare.

No little time had elapsed due to the countless locals, tourists and the like blocking the streets, blindly fleeing from the storm, variously seeking shelter in shop doorways and such, yet finally the taxi pulled up outside Tahrir Square; the offer of a substantial tip persuading the driver to await the pair's return.

Above the museum the storm still raged, however on this occasion there was no accompanying powercut; the intruders, if indeed they had already infiltrated the building, would require the power supply to gain access to the vault, Sandy surmised. Skirting the exterior of the museum, the pair soon stumbled upon an open fire escape; seemingly the intruders were already inside.

"Well it looks as though there'll be no need for you to crack the vault's combination after all!" sighed Sandy in dismay, "I daresay these fanatics have already beaten us to it!"

"Gee, then I'm so glad you brought me along..." sulked the assistant, shivering in the torrential downpour; looking not unlike a drowning rat.

After dark, the museum adopted an eerie quality, leaving the adventurer and the assistant with a sense of unease as they entered the ground floor exhibition area; the dim lighting illuminating statues, sarcophagus cases and the like, hand-painted pupils appearing to pursue the pair as they crept cautiously past the many ancient artefacts. Of course, Sandy had visited the museum many times in the past, often assuming an advisory role at the request of the curator, Mr Memphis; thusly she was familiar with the layout of the building, guiding Roxy towards a stairwell that would lead them down to the vault.

Along the way, the pair soon stumbled upon several unconscious members of the security staff, the tape-gagged guards bound hand and foot with cable ties as before; further proof if it were needed that the enemy had already infiltrated the museum.

"Not much we can do for these poor fellows, it looks like they're out for the count!" sighed Sandy, opening the eyelids of one of the men; detecting no response.

"What's wrong with them, were they drugged, gassed or hit from behind?" wondered Roxy.

"No, judging by this degree of stupor, I'd say it was far more likely to be the effects of some sort of sleep spell - cast by whoever it is controls these cultists!" explained Sandy, "The concept is simple enough. In olden times, folk would use what was known as a Hand of Glory to achieve such an effect, a burning candle clutched in the severed hand of a hanged man causing sleep to all witnesses once the wick was lit!"

"How about one day you tell me some nice stories for a change, instead of scaring me half to death!" grumbled the girl.

"Sorry... Anyway, I see no sense in us both heading down to the vault, not when we may well be wandering into a trap!" observed the adventurer, halting outside the stairwell some moments later, "In which case, I suggest you stay here and keep out of sight until such time as I return!"

"And what if you never return?" worried Roxy.

"Then you'll just have to stay here forever and gather dust like so many of these ancient artefacts!" smiled Sandy in response, "But don't worry, you'll be in good company - some of these mummies are royalty, after all!"

Slipping silently into the stairwell, Sandy crept silently down each step in turn, not wishing to draw attention to her presence in case the arrival of any who might interfere had been anticipated by the fanatical foot fetishists. Soon stumbling upon the subterranean vault, she discovered the museum's curator, Mr Memphis, struggling upon the floor outside the enormous open steel portal; the balding, bearded, grizzled old man attired in a smart navy blue suit similarly bound and gagged as the security staff had been, his feet bared after an obvious interrogation. As the curator's eyes fell upon the form standing over him, a flicker of recognition crept across astonished facial features; the adventurer at once silencing the old man with a warning finger pressed firmly against her fleshy lips.

Within the vast interior of the vault, Delta, clad in the coal-coloured robes of her order, searched frantically amongst the many priceless artefacts on display; on the opposite side stood Sa'id, attired in the borrowed uniform of a security guard, the great brute studying several shelves for any sign of the absent headband.

"It is here, I have it!" cried the robed cultist in triumph, fingers finally falling upon a solid gold band emblazoned with an elegant, hand-fashioned feather.

"And now you're giving it to me!" smiled Sandy, snatching the headband from Delta's grasp; as the robed intruder turned to face the new arrival in incredulity, Sa'id instinctively pulled a pistol from the belt of his uniform, its barrel aimed at the adventurer.

"A firearm? That's not very sporting of you, I fully expected to find you fanatics playing with primitive weapons!" sighed Sandy.

As Sa'id advanced on the adventurer, Sandy seized a small statue of Bastet from a shelf, the ancient Egyptian goddess of protection represented as a reclining cat; striking the brute a severe blow to the temple. As the fanatic staggered unsteadily upon his feet, stunned by the blow, he collapsed upon his cohort; pinning Delta to the floor. At once, Sandy fled from the vault with her prize, fast returning to the stairwell.

"Get up, you great ox! We must hurry after her and recover the headband!" snapped Delta, struggling to free herself from the considerable bulk slumped atop her far more slender frame; finally Sa'id responded, hauling himself painfully to his knees.

At the top of the stairs, Sandy encountered Roxy, the assistant patiently awaiting her employer's return; having freed the slumbering security staff. Seizing Roxy by the wrist, she led the girl up a further flight of stairs towards the first floor of the museum without a word, for there was no time to explain; the furious fanatics would soon be hot on her heels.

"We'll never make it out of here alive with those two following us, they've got a gun - I'll have to give them the slip!" she advised, leading the assistant into an upstairs exhibition area before pressing the headband into Roxy's palm for safekeeping, "In the meantime, take this and find yourself a suitable hiding place!"

"You want me to hide? Hide where?" whispered Roxy, all too aware of the sound of hurried footsteps sprinting up the stairwell in pursuit of the pair.

"In here!" suggested Sandy, opening the casing of a small, standing sarcophagus, pushing the protesting assistant inside before sealing it once more, "Stay put until I return, and don't make a sound!"

Soon, the pursuing pair entered the exhibition area; Sandy concealing herself behind a huge, reclining statue of Anubis, the dog-headed deity of Egyptian legend. Sandy silently observed, hardly daring to breath as Delta, having taken possession of the pistol, and her subordinate immediately undertook a search for the adventurer and the prize no longer in her possession.

As the pair separated, searching the exhibition area independantly, Delta decided to investigate the inside of an enormous, ornate urn; at once, Sandy sprang from concealment, seizing the woman by her legs before stuffing her headfirst into the outsized vessel. As the pistol fell from Delta's hand to the floor with a clatter, Sandy unsettled the enormous urn; whilst the fanatic's legs flailed wildly, it trundled slowly across the tiled floor towards the top of a flight of stairs leading down to the lower level of the exhibition area, cascading down each step in turn. Fast gaining momentum as the fanatic struggled to escape from its cramped confines, the urn shattered upon contact with a wall; showering Delta with shards of alabaster as she collapsed unconscious upon the floor.

Immediately Sandy turned her attention towards Sa'id, the hulking brute alerted to the disturbance; advancing upon the adventurer with menace. Above the fanatic's head hung an enormous example of taxidermy, a stuffed Nile crocodile of some 16 feet in length suspended by a steel wire from the ceiling; at once Sandy severed the wire with a single shot fired from the pistol, the cultist collapsing beneath the bulk of the long-dead creature as it crashed down upon him. With each of the fanatics now safely out of the way, Sandy discarded the weapon, its single bullet spent; returning at once to the assistant still sealed inside the sarcophagus.

"And it's about time too!" spluttered Roxy, the girl gasping for breath as the lid of the sarcophagus swung open, "It smells terrible in there!"

"Never mind that now, we have to get away from this museum, and fast!" warned Sandy, slipping the ancient artefact inside her backpack, "Now that we have the headband in our possession, we need to find some way to destroy it - otherwise these fanatics will follow us to the ends of the earth to retrieve it! But first, we need to find out where Rosie is being held before rescuing her!"

At the entrance of the museum, the adventurer and her assistant found themselves confronted by a female, cold, cruel eyes fixed firmly upon the pair from beneath a fringe of flowing liquorice locks; the tanned flesh of her slinky torso attired in a bejewelled brassiere, stones sparkling in the light of the lobby, the long length of a golden loincloth trailing upon the tiled floor, feet shod in a pair of leather thong sandals.

"So, it seems there are others that seek my enchanted headband!" she sneered, addressing the pair in the Late Egyptian language; at once, Sandy halted in her tracks, for the dead tongue was one with which she was familiar.

"Who's this chick?" wondered Roxy, "What's she saying?"

"Well, while I'm not a hundred percent certain who she is, I have a very nasty suspicion! Still, there's only one way to find out, I suppose!" shrugged Sandy, before addressing the female in her own language, the young woman responding with a slight nod of the head and a wicked grin, "Yes, it is as I feared... Roxy, allow me to introduce you to Queen Tikeltootsi I!"

"No way!" exclaimed the assistant in astonishment, "Heck, I hope I look that good if I live to be over three-thousand years old!"

"Well, this is a surprise, I must say!" announced the adventurer, continuing to address the tyrant in her own tongue, much to the frustration of Roxy who could not decipher so much as a single word of what was being said, "I have to confess I did not expect to see you up and about so soon after spending so many millenia dead, and certainly not here, of all places! So tell me, what's the plan, a little sightseeing? Have you come to Cairo to say hello to a few mummified forebears before heading back to whichever rock you crawled out from under?"

"I would have thought it obvious, I am here to reclaim that which was stolen from me! I have a hands-on approach, you see!" scowled Tikeltootsi, her scathing features softening a little upon observing Roxy's feet still slipped into a pair of Havaianas, "Especially when it comes to soles..."

"I see, and then what?" wondered Sandy, arms firmly folded across her chest as she quizzed the ancient queen.

"Then I shall issue an ultimatum to the rulers of this strange new world! The choice will be a simple one - bow before me, or die in a bitter, bloody war to end all wars! And once I am victorious, I shall begin rebuilding my empire, sweeping away all which is alien to me!" ranted Tikeltoosi, scowling in disgust at the sound of a car cruising past the square, "For a start, these horseless chariots speeding along the streets must go!"

"Well I hate to break it to you, but if all you have to offer the people is a period of devolution, then you can expect some fairly stiff opposition to your tyranny!" sneered Sandy, amazed at the ancient queen's arrogance.

"Any that dare to oppose me will be crushed, the feet of those unfortunate enough to be taken prisoner feathered to the point of death as punishment!" snarled Tikeltootsi, before once again softening a little, "Ah, but I suspect you seek to hinder me in my scheme to recover my stolen headband! Very well, then let me see for myself whether you are a worthy opponent, or simply wasting my time!"

At once, the tyrant whipped the thin blade of a dagger from within her waistband, its gleaming tip laced with the venom of an asp; at once, Sandy ushered the assistant away as Tikeltootsi advanced upon the pair, grinning wickedly as she halted a few feet from the adventurer. Yet as Roxy withdrew as instructed, the assistant settling herself beside the opening of a corridor connecting with the lobby, she was suddenly seized silently from behind, a powerful arm ensnaring her torso; pudgy palm clamped across her mouth before being carried away unseen.

As the tyrant lashed out at the adventurer with the deadly blade of the dagger, Sandy instinctively performed a backwards somersault; settling some feet away to adopt a defensive position. With a frown of frustration etched upon otherwise enchanting features, Tikeltootsi advanced once more upon the athletic aristocrat, again lunging forth with the weapon; Sandy swiftly sidestepping the savage blow.

"You are fast on your feet!" acknowledged the ancient queen, "However I fear I must cut this encounter short, or rather cut you short!"

Again she lunged at the adventurer, however as Sandy sidestepped the attack, she seized Tikeltootsi's wrist, applying pressure as she forced the tyrant to her knees; the dagger clattering harmlessly to the tiles. In response, the ancient queen lashed out with her legs in a wide arc, unsettling Sandy; the aristocrat crashing to the floor. In an instant, Sandy sprang up to settle her haunches, intent on tackling the tyrant to the tiles; however Tikeltootsi was ready for any counter-attack, striking her opponent a considerable blow to the cheek with the back of her hand before snatching up the dagger whence it had fallen. Suddenly, Sa'id lumbered into the lobby, the brute nursing an aching head all the while; at once bowing before his queen.

"Majesty, she has the headband!" he murmured, still somewhat dazed, "She snatched it from us inside the vault!"

"I see..." acknowledged Tikeltootsi, her tone strangely serene as she addressed the adventurer, "Then you would be well advised to surrender my headband forthwith, or I will be forced to take it from you!"

"I dont have it, it's hidden somewhere safe here inside the museum!" bluffed Sandy with a smirk; the solid gold headband still concealed inside the backpack upon her shoulders.

"If this is an attempt to deceive me, then it is most ill-advised - for as you have already seen for yourself, I am not the type to be trifled with!" warned Tikeltootsi in a decidedly frosty tone, "Yet as much as I would gain great satisfaction in feathering the soles of your feet until you tell me what I wish to know, I fear I have wasted enough time here already!"

At the tyrant's instruction, Sai'd advanced upon the adventurer, intent on tackling Sandy to the floor; suddenly, above the storm raging overhead, the sounds of police sirens could clearly be heard, accompanied by blue and red flashing lights illuminating the lobby walls.

"Majesty, we must flee!" urged Sa'id, "The police have been summoned, we cannot possibly hope to overcome them all - they will be armed!"

"So be it!" snarled the vicious vixen eventually, allowing herself to be led away by the burly brute before turning to address the adventurer, "But be warned, we will return for you! The next time we meet, you will be bound before me, begging me to take back what is rightfully mine as I feather your feet without mercy!"

As the pair hurried away in the direction of the open fire escape, Sandy decided it would be wise not to linger in the lobby any longer, for soon the museum would be swarming with armed police; her presence would no doubt take many hours of explanations inside an interview room, she pondered. Suddenly, as she turned her attention towards Roxy, the assistant apparently absent, the museum was plunged into darkness, the lights across Cairo flickering off one by one; so, it seemed the cultists had caused another powercut to ensure their escape, Sandy suspected.

Removing a flashlight from her backpack, the adventurer illuminated her path with its welcoming glow; suddenly, from outside of the museum, Sandy detected the sound of a vehicle's engine, at once setting off to investigate. At the rear of the museum, she discovered a scarlet-coloured 4x4 parked outside; to Sandy's dismay she observed the familiar flabby features of Dodgy Giza seated beside an open rear window of the vehicle, the black marketeer adopting a sneering expression as he turned to face her.

"Ah, Lady Crevice - you have taken possession of my prize, I hope!" he grinned whilst wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a pudgy palm.

"Your prize? Why on earth would I willingly hand the headband over to you?" scowled Sandy, dismissing Dodgy Giza's absurd statement.

"Because if you do not, then you will not see your little friend again!" frowned Giza, hauling a familiar figure from her position stretched out across the backseat of the vehicle for Sandy to see, that of Roxy; the cleave-gagged girl peering pleadingly at her employer.

Wrists bound behind her back with rope, ankles tightly tied together, Roxy remained powerless to free herself from her flabby captor. As the crafty conman continued to taunt the aristocrat, he slipped a flip-flop from the girl's right foot; fat, fleshy forefinger creeping across the exposed sole with a soft, teasing stroke. At once, many oaths issued forth from Roxy's mouth; however her words emerged merely as muffled, meaningless mumblings.

"Now that I hold your young assistant hostage, you will hand over the headband in exchange, Lady Crevice!" demanded Dodgy Giza, "Then I will be in a position better suited to enter into negotiations with these crazy cultist fellows!"

"Are you mad? You can't negotiate with these fanatics, they're far more accustomed to simply taking what they want!" warned Sandy, "Besides which, they appear to possess powers supernatural in origin, in case you hadn't noticed - as if these freak storms aren't enough to convince you, there's also the fact that Tikeltootsi has risen from the dead to contend with!"

"Then it seems I am doubly fortunate, for when these cultists come to reclaim the headband, I shall kidnap their queen!" shrugged the black marketeer, his fat fingers creeping back and forth across Roxy's sensitive sole in a softly stroking motion as he spoke, causing the techie no little discomfort, "Everything has its price, Lady Crevice - these cultists will see sense in the end! In the meantime, I suggest you ensure the headband's safety, for it is your only bargaining tool! I shall contact you within twenty-four hours to negotiate an exchange!"

With a nod from the black marketeer, the vehicle's driver soon sped away from the museum and across Tahrir Square through the blackout caused by the powercut; the aristocratic adventurer overcome by a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes fast pervading her lungs...