𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐓 ; ahkmenrah

eleven.

They leave the hotel at four-thirty p.m., with just enough time to get to the Smithsonian Castle--the place they've determined has the best entrance to the Archives--before they close. Luna's backpack has everything they could possibly need in it: extra flashlights, a laptop (just in case), water bottles, a pen and notepad, and walkie talkies (in case they get separated). 

The security guard checking their bags is in his late teens or early twenties, and when Luna asks about his day, his eyes light up and he chats animatedly to her about his mother while half-assedly searching her backpack, and the adoring smile she gives him at the end is enough to seal the deal. He zips her bag up and hands it to her, his eyes shining, and Luna knows without a doubt that he definitely didn't feel the zip ties, rope, and boxcutter hiding at the bottom. (Definitely don't ever try this, reader, unless you're on a quest to save an ancient pharaoh and a bunch of museum exhibits from another ancient pharaoh who wants revenge.)

"Nice one." Nicky slaps Luna on the shoulder, grinning. "I honestly thought you might get him to ask for your number. Oh, and maybe genuflect on his way back to the desk."

"Ha, ha." Luna rolls her eyes, but she's honestly pretty proud of her acting. "Mr. Daley, what's the plan?"

"Get a security clearance card somehow, get down to the Archives, find Ahk, stop Kahmunrah, go home and sleep for a week." Larry nods appraisingly. "That's just about it."

"So...how are we getting a security clearance card?" Nicky asks, running a hand through his hair. 

Luna gasps. "Oh, my god."

Both Nicky and Larry turn to see what she's looking at.

Right at the back of the hall, there's a massive stone archway, encrusted with gold and covered in hieroglyphs and ancient Egyptian drawings. It looks regal, majestic, and at the same time, cold and dark. A sign in front of it reads: The Gate of Kahmunrah--Mythic Door to the Underworld. And right in the center, there's an indent that looks just like Ahkmenrah's tablet. The hair on the back of Luna's neck stands up, and that glowing feeling inside her arises again. It's been quiet the whole trip, but now it pulses, thrums inside her like an electrical wave.

Larry glances over to his left, where a pudgy, curly-haired security guard is harassing a little girl about the CapriSun stain on her shoe, and a smirk appears on his face. "Watch this."

Luna and Nicky pretend to be interested in the Al Capone display behind them, but they're actually listening to Larry poke and prod the security guard, until finally, he hits Larry in the chest with his flashlight. Larry spins his arm around and pins the flashlight against the other side of his head. The guard--Luna thinks she heard his name was "Brandon"--is awestruck and slightly terrified. She grins when they bro-hug, and grins even bigger when Larry returns, holding "Brandon's" ID tag in the palm of his left hand. 

Nicky leads the way toward the employee-only doors they saw when they first walked in, and Larry confidently swipes the tag in the card reader. The light flashes from red to green, and Nicky pushes the door open for the three of them, grinning like a Cheshire cat. 

"What's next?" Luna asks, adjusting her backpack on her shoulder and hurrying to keep up with Nicky and Larry's long legs (they're all short, reader, but Luna is extra short).

Larry opens his mouth to reply, but then two men turn into the hallway, and he grabs Nicky and Luna and pulls them into the nearest open door--which is conveniently marked "Locker Room". 

Nicky slams the door behind them and sighs. "Well, so much for our leisurely tour of the Archives."

"Oh, this is good." Larry walks over to an open locker and pulls out a dark blue sleeve, waving it at them. There's an official-looking patch on it that reads Smithsonian Institution. He pulls one out, holds it up to his chest to see if it'll fit, and then slips it on. "Come on, put these on."