Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 03 - Cairo Caper (12 page)

His story was weak. “So why didn’t you stop the assassination attempt?”

He smiled again, flashing those dazzling white teeth at me. “Mustafa didn’t want to risk his men on a bad idea, so at the last minute he subcontracted to some local talent. Or should I say lack of talent because the guy was known to us to be unreliable and the worst shot this side of the Suez Canal. My plan was to be on the next balcony ready to take him out if he showed up. His notoriously bad shooting skills gave me a nice cushion.”

It would have made sense if Habib had shot the hit man, but he hadn’t. “So why didn’t you shoot him?”

“I was stuck in the elevator at the Sphinx Hotel for a half-hour. I got to my balcony at the moment he caught your ashtray with his face. Nice throw. I was glad it wasn’t me.”

“Where did the body go?”

“My sweepers. I had them on standby to remove his body from the balcony after I shot him. They had to make a slight adjustment to their plans.”

He almost had me convinced. Almost. “How about the museum raid?”

“Again direct orders from Sputum to the Dark Force. Sputum had word that Sir Sydney had something that would help locate the tomb. He decided that with the confusion of the demonstration, he could get the object through a direct assault. When that didn’t work, he brought me in.”

He ran his hand through his thick slightly wavy hair. “These monuments and artifacts of Egypt are the heritage of everyone. I am part of a modern priesthood of archaeologists and art conservators committed to protecting them.”

The voices of the guards arguing in Russian outside the tent carried in.

“Do the Dark Forcemen know I killed the assassin Mustafa hired?”

“It is of no concern to them. Manslaughter with a household implement is seen as a woman’s eccentricity.” He smiled a sexy smile and patted my hand. “I hope you aren’t letting it bother you. He was a heartless sadistic killer.”

He left his hand on mine. The heat on my face zoomed beyond anything that could be attributed to sunburn. He continued in what I now acknowledged was a
sexy
whisper. “They do
not
know I’ve spent time in the United States.”

I glanced at my old ring. “How do you explain that?”

Habib raised his hand, made a fist, and turned it in the air admiring the band. “Long ago I made a story to go with the ring. It was of a young and beautiful American tourist girl who fell under my spell in the shadow of the Great Sphinx and gave it to me as a remembrance.”

“I didn’t fall under your spell. I–”

“Keep your voice down. The story is a fable to account for your ring, a ring I wanted to wear.”

My strong reaction surprised me. Was there a kernel of truth in his story about the girl falling under his spell? It was years ago and didn’t matter one way or the other now. But what was happening in the Egyptian desert did. “You are in charge of the Dark Force. Can you trust them?”

“Of course not. They’re loyal to the deepest pockets. I’m in charge of them because Sputum said so. They aren’t particularly loyal to each other. It’s all about money and competence. Mustafa is on thin ice as their leader because of hiring the bumbling assassin and screwing up Doctor Jolley’s kidnapping. That’s what the guards are arguing about.”

“You speak Russian?”

“I speak six languages in addition to my native tongue. My best is American English. As you can hear, my accent and use of slang and idioms is perfect. My Russian is fluent but not quite as good as my American. I can communicate with the Dark Forcemen well, but the moment Sputum changes my status, they will do as he says.”

My head spun. The Dark Force, my kidnapping, my ring, Habib. All of a sudden, I wasn’t sure of anything. “Habib. That
is
your name, isn’t it?”

He squeezed my hand. “It means
Beloved
.”

It was getting really hot in the tent. I pulled my hand away.

“Were you following Roger and me in the market place? Was that you in the shadows?”

“I’ve been with you since you arrived in Cairo. I am your guardian angel. But you must get back to Doctor Jolley as soon as possible. These men are under orders from Sputum to kill all of you once Cleopatra’s tomb is discovered. Sputum hired me to help Jolley succeed. After Sputum’s attempts to foil him failed, he decided the best course of action is to intervene after the fact. So he and his rival Dorkovsky realize they need Jolley’s help and are waiting like vultures.”

He placed his hand on mine again then nodded toward Fiona, who hadn’t moved an inch since entering her trance. “You and the little dumpling must disappear by morning.”

I glanced at my high school ring on his hand. Was it like a message in a bottle?

He stared into my eyes. “The oligarchs want the entire medallion to put in a hidden collection. But the medallion is said to convey eternal love. In my heart I believe the two halves belong together in the tomb of Antony and Cleopatra. Love
should
be eternal.”

The heat was in my nether region as well as my face.

“Perhaps the ring has brought us together, again. I must confess I was delighted when Mustafa brought you instead of Doctor Jolley. I could have time with you… alone.”

That brought me back to reality. I had given him my ring as a lark. Maybe there had been a subconscious teenage attraction but teenage years were long gone. Roger was my man. My face and nether region cooled down.

He lifted my chin. “Fear not, sweet Wendy. I remember our days in Miami. You haven’t changed a bit. You have a good heart and a cheeky mouth.”

Fiona stirred. Her green orbs un-glazed. She fished her journal and a pen out of her messenger’s bag. She had a hungry expression on her face and fixated on her
sheik
as she scribbled notes in her journal. I couldn’t wait to see how she worked Habib into
Erotica for Dummies.

He leaned close to Fiona and put his finger to his lips. “Say nothing. Your life depends on keeping our secret.”

Her eyes darted from Habib to me, and back. “What secret?”

Chapter Twenty

The sun had dropped behind the dunes when Mustafa entered the tent and motioned us to follow. I shouldered my purse and smiled weakly at Fiona.
We who are about to die salute you.

Foolish of me to worry. What could possibly happen to two women held captive by a dozen ruthless Russian mercenaries who were temporarily being directed by a non-Russian but being paid by an oligarch? A tightly controlled situation. Nothing to worry about.

Swaying on my broken heel I offered silent prayers to the desert gods. My negotiations included offering my Jaguar in trade for Habib being able to control the Dark Forcemen, then throwing in my Miami Beach condo for the matching sneaker and a doable getaway plan.

The black horizon crashed into the clear moonless sky with thousands of glittering stars differentiating the heavens from the hell of the desert. The wind cut through my jacket, sending a chill through my body.

A fire pit burned brightly about thirty yards from the tents. Mustafa illuminated the ground in front of us with a small powerful flashlight and led us to a silky carpet close to the fire. The cat wove back and forth between my ankles, but as always, wasn’t there.

Mustafa surprised me when he said, “Sit. Please sit.”

What was up with the courtesy? Maybe Habib was in control. The smell of roasting meat and mouthwatering spices reminded me I was starving.

Fiona and I lowered ourselves into lotus positions. Mustafa squatted next to me and waved his finger. A Dark Forceman placed hammered metal plates in front of Fiona and me. Mustafa took two large meatballs from a hand-painted serving platter. He pointed at me as an invitation to follow his lead. I wondered how many zillions of bacteria roamed their greasy surface and how much lead had leached out of the paint on the platter. But being hungry enough to eat a camel and not wanting to insult him, I grabbed one and put it on my plate. Fiona did the same. We were ready for our Egyptian luau.

Mustafa bit into a meatball and chewed with a satisfied moan. I bit into mine. I managed to contain my enthusiasm. The balls were a mixture of chopped meat and vegetables. The meat was gamey and tough, but better than starvation.

I felt the presence of someone over my shoulder and looked up. It was Habib. He motioned to Mustafa to move away. He rose, wiped his fingers on his thighs and joined the Forcemen on the other side of the fire pit.

Habib scrunched down between Fiona and me and said in a normal voice, “I hope this meal is pleasing to you and atones to some small extent for your inconvenience. Unfortunately we cannot release you until we’ve completed our mission. But you’ll be treated well. Help yourselves to more camel balls and try the camel milk tea.”

I peeked at Mustafa while taking another bite of my spherical hockey puck. As I suspected, he was listening intently to Habib.

“Are they going to have their way with us?” Fiona asked clutching her journal to her chest.

I elbowed her. She took my hint and tucked her book under her butt.
Erotica for Dummies
was going to have to wait.

“Absolutely not. We are professionals and you are here as a result of miscommunications. You will be treated with the utmost respect till you are released unharmed.”

I lowered my voice to a non-whisper whisper and hid my mouth behind the meatball. “What about Roger? Is he okay?”

Habib shifted backwards a foot or so into the darkness and spoke in a barely audible tone. “You have feelings for this man who pretends to be your husband?”

“He’s my partner,” I said just as quietly.

“As I told you, the Egyptian Government wants Cleopatra’s tomb secured once it’s discovered. My job is to protect Doctor Jolley until then. After that, I will break cover and be responsible for the security of the tomb. I will try to have someone assigned to protect your group but with all the demonstrations sapping our resources, it might not be possible.” There was a note of concern in his voice.

I shivered. I was sure it wouldn’t be possible. The welfare of a few foreigners would be far down the priority list considering the turmoil the country was experiencing.

Habib eased forward a bit. The firelight reflected off his handsome face. I felt a flush and it wasn’t from the heat of the fire. I had an inexplicable connection with him. In that instant I was positive he had been straight with me and would do all he could to help us get home safely. I also knew from the look on his face that he didn’t think the government would provide protection for us.

He shook the worried look off and smiled. “Tell me, how will the famous Roger Jolley locate the tomb, besides having the Osiris half of the medallion?”

“I can’t betray Roger. His plan must remain a secret even though you’re trying to protect him.”

“It will be easier to protect him if I know what method he’ll be using.”

“Aside from his brilliant brain, he has nothing with him that will aid his quest.” That was the truth. The MUDD was safely in my purse, which sat in my lap, which was too darn close to Habib’s lap. I loosened my jacket. Boy it was getting hot.

The Dark Forcemen were finishing their meals and passing a bottle of vodka around, most of them looking our way.

Habib locked eyes with me. “You must leave before morning. I don’t know what the Dark Forcemen might do. Some of them are saying you have no hostage value and should be disposed of. I have a plan.”

He refilled our teacups. “Camel’s milk to aid your digestion and help you sleep until your escape,” Habib said. He clinked his cup with ours and chugged his camel’s milk nightcap.

I didn’t know if the milk was drugged or fatigue caught up with me but I got woozy and my lips got rubbery.

Habib walked us back to our tent followed by two of the Forcemen to stand guard. I fell asleep instantly but not before I heard a snore from Fiona.

Sometime during the night I had a disturbing dream, foggy but realistic. I tried to wake up to stop it but I was too groggy. I heard several people arguing in Russian. One of the voices sounded like Habib. My last memory of the dream was thinking about how weird it was to dream in Russian.

Chapter Twenty-one

I brushed the sand out of my eyes and greeted the morning sun sneaking through the seams in the tent. What tent? It took a second to remember where I was.

Fiona was snoring lightly. I turned my head away from her and came face-to face with maggots. Slithering, squiggling, disgusting maggots rooting over and under one another! No heads, just hungry mouths. Crawling over a body lying next to me.

I jumped to my feet, brushing my clothing frantically in case some had gotten on me. I looked at the corpse again, covered my mouth, and gagged but didn’t toss my cookies. I stuck my head outside the tent flap and took several deep breaths. It smelled a whole lot better out here. I must have been really exhausted to sleep through that smell.

Two Dark Forcemen guards motioned me inside with the barrels of their AK-47s, always a persuasive direction giver, much more effective than an arrow. I turned my head toward Habib’s tent. The flaps were closed. Where was Habib? He promised to get us out of here before daylight. I said, “Habib?” They looked at each other then back at me. The AK-47 movement became more vigorous so I took the hint and retreated.

The corpse looked slightly familiar, possibly would have looked more familiar if he wasn’t dead and in an early stage of decomposition. Damn! I hate waking up with a wormy dead stranger.

Eureka! It hit me like an ashtray to the face. Maggot-man was the assassin from the hotel balcony. My first kill. Who re-gifted him to me? They didn’t have to go to the trouble. A simple congratulations card would have been plenty.

I put my hand over Fiona’s mouth hoping to wake her without a scream. Her eyes were giant green orbs over the edge of my palm. She kicked her tiny boots, twisted free from my grip, and scrambled to her feet. She glanced at the body. I was relieved she appeared to be handling the situation with poise.

She brushed her outfit, turned toward the corpse again, and started sucking in air for what I knew was going to be the scream that rocked my world. I clamped my hand over her mouth. “Don’t make a sound. We don’t want the guards to rush in.”