by M. B. Lewis
He ran a hand through his blond hair. It was far worse than just a cut. The side of his head bore several bruises.
“You poor thing. You should put some ice on that.”
Curt shook his head. “No time. I notified Doctor Hastings about what has happened. She wants our team in Istanbul in the morning. We’ve got to pack up and depart as soon as possible.”
“When do we need to leave?” Kadie said.
Curt glanced at his watch. “In four hours. We head south to Ismailia and catch a flight.”
“Why the rush? Four a.m. is awfully quick. I mean, it’s doable, but I’m exhausted, and I desperately need a shower. What about the airfield in town?”
Curt nodded. “I understand. Mister Thorndike called Doctor Hastings after she reported this to the company.” Graham Thorndike was the CEO of Alligynt, the parent company of GDI. “His contacts in the DOD have advised him of the increased threat in Egypt. ISIS is very active here and makes repeated threats against all foreigners, particularly Jews.”
Kadie knew exactly what Curt meant. Samuel was Jewish and somehow had been targeted by ISIS. “Okay, we’ll get packing.” She wanted to hug him again but wasn’t sure if that was appropriate. Given their work situation, she didn’t want to come on too strong. When she turned to go to her room, he followed, never leaving her side. Kadie smiled. That was a good sign.
When they reached her room, she opened the door with the Gomer. The chain stopped the door from going any further. “Brian, it’s me,” she yelled through the crack and closed the door.
“Okay,” Brian said from inside.
A few seconds later, Brian unlocked the door and let her in. Her brother stared at them with sunken eyes.
“Did you bwing me a gweat big hambuwgew?”
Curt’s forehead scrunched, his mouth tilting downward. “What did he say?”
Kadie spied the crumpled bag the bread came in laying on the coffee table. “Nothing,” she said. “He’s just hungry.”
She stepped in and glanced back at Curt as she closed it. “We’ll meet you in the lobby at four.” She slid the chain back in place and chuckled to herself, aware it wouldn’t prevent anyone from getting in. When she turned around, Brian stood with a stern expression on his face.
“Where—have you been? Did you go—have food with him?”
She recognized the problem immediately. “No, no. Brian, I’m sorry. I ran into him in the hallway a few minutes ago. I’ve been speaking to the police most of the night.” Brian stared at her, skeptical. How would he take this? He was familiar with death; in fact, he was facing it himself. But murder was different. He stared at her awkwardly.
“Why are you so dirty?”
Kadie glanced down at her filthy pants and her untucked, tattered shirt. Her hand drifted to the side of her face, aware it was probably smeared with dirt. “Brian, Samuel was killed earlier.”
“Killed?” His eyes drooped and watered, showing a sadness that broke her heart. Samuel had been so good to Brian the past few weeks.
“Yes. We’re not sure why.” She decided not to tell him what happened to her. That might scare him too much—both for his safety and hers. Still, he needed to understand their situation better. “The company believes we’re all in danger. We’re leaving the hotel in a few hours and driving to an airport in another town.”
“Ugh, I am so sleepy. I do not want to go.”
She ran her fingers through his hair. “I know, but we have to pack. Curt says the security threat is too high to stay here. It’s too dangerous.”
Brian shook his head and returned to the couch. He seemed aggravated when he thought she and Curt had dinner alone. Thankfully, his disposition changed once she told him what had happened, but Brian remained stubborn. She trusted Curt and felt like he was attracted to her and maybe her to him. Curt had taken them to lunch and dinner a couple of times. Of course, Brian would be upset if they went to eat without him.
“What do you think of Curt?” she asked him again. She found his answer earlier that night too non-committal.
Her brother glanced at her. “He is okay.” He focused back on the television.
Kadie sighed. His answer was the same as before. “Just okay?”
He looked back and nodded. “Yeah,” then returned his attention to the TV.
“Well, we’re leaving in a few hours. Whether we like it or not.”
Brian focused on the television. Kadie shook her head, then checked the locks on the windows and door before strolling to the bathroom. She’d take a fast shower to remove the filth from earlier. They had a long night ahead, and the killer may return.
5
The Egypt team gathered in the lobby well before 3:30 in the morning. In front of the hotel, a vintage, battered bus that appeared like it belonged on a California hippie compound in the 1960s waited for them. The team consisted of five more besides Kadie and Curt. Abdul Hassan from Cambridge, England was an expert in Egyptian hieroglyphics. Andre LeBeau was a DNA specialist from Paris. Biological disease specialist Dr. Jedediah Hamilton and general practitioner Dr. George Upton both of whom worked at the CDC in Atlanta. Added to the small group was Kadie’s brother, an honorary member of the team.
Bringing Brian had been her go-no-go position. She was quite surprised GDI went along with it. Kadie let them know upfront that aside from having Down syndrome, Brian had a brain tumor. A cyst had formed on his pituitary gland and had grown substantially over the last year. The doctors at the Kirklin Clinic at the University of Alabama, Birmingham, had given him a few years to live. When this opportunity arose, Kadie refused to leave him on his own. She was going to spend whatever time he had left with him. When they agreed to her demand, she offered to take a salary cut and pay his way to Egypt, but GDI said none of that was necessary. They made Brian part of the “team,” paid his way there, and made special arrangements for Kadie to have a suite with two rooms at every location.
That sealed the deal. The job was perfect for a recent graduate student. It would boost her resumé for the faculty position at Princeton. Everyone on the team was very welcoming of Brian, and most, given their medial backgrounds, were more than familiar with Down syndrome.
Reflecting on it, she didn’t know what to expect. Typical images of an archeological dig swirled in her head—dirty, dusty, and hot. So, that’s what she packed for. The team was a rather peculiar collection of specialists to fight a virus, she thought when she learned who would be joining her. Everyone had a unique skill that didn’t relate to anyone else’s. They all engaged in the initial search, of course, scouring museums and ancient sites. If they found anything, Kadie would be the one to confirm it was potentially the correct vase, translating the Aramaic inscription believed to be on the vase. She wasn’t sure why they had a DNA specialist on board, but the two doctors from the CDC were present to ensure the vase didn’t contain any traces of disease inside the vessel. Samuel was supposed to do the preliminary carbon dating to confirm the age of the vase.
Curt announced everyone was accounted for, and the ragged bus pulled out of the hotel parking lot at precisely four o’clock. The plastic-covered seats split at the seams, the disintegrating foam spilling on the floor. Kadie felt every bump and crack in the street as the driver struggled with the transmission. They hit a bump that launched them all upward in their seats.
“Shock absorbers must be optional in Egypt,” she said, causing Brian to chuckle. She smiled at him and rubbed her knee. The soreness had dissipated in the last hour. She had wrapped her knee with an Ace bandage after her shower and downed a couple of Motrin. Brian sat next to the window and stared at the dark and silent city streets; his drone secured in the small Pelican case that sat on his lap. Kadie placed her arm around his shoulders, and within minutes, he dozed off. It had been a long, rough night for everyone.
Her thoughts had drifted back to Samuel. They met when GDI first organized the team in New York City. Samuel became very protective of her, like a father to his daught
er, and Kadie clung to that, a feeling she hadn’t had in years. Having a father-figure to confide in lifted a huge burden off her shoulders. Not only did he admire her plans to become an associate professor at Princeton, but he also reassured her that her decision to bring Brian on this trip was the right one. But Samuel was gone, and there was no one here who could ever take his place.
They drove south out of town along the Suez Canal. Once Brian fell asleep, Curt slid in the seat in front of her and started to open his go-bag. He pulled out a small rifle resembling an AK-47 and inserted the magazine. Then he donned a tactical vest that had extra magazines and a pistol strapped to his chest.
“Is all that necessary?” she asked.
“We’re leaving the city. Could be dangerous.” He shifted in his seat looking back at her. “How are you doing?” he said.
Kadie shifted in her seat so she could see him better. She wasn’t comfortable with Curt brandishing his weapons the way he was, but perhaps it was necessary. “I’m okay. It’s been a crazy night. I can’t stop thinking about Samuel. It-it’s so horrible.”
Curt’s gaze dropped to the floor before shifting back to her. “Yes, it is. I-I’m sorry you had to see something like that.”
“What will happen with Samuel?”
“I contacted the U.S. Embassy. They will send a representative tomorrow to claim his body.”
“But he’s from Israel.”
“Yes. Given the circumstances, this was the best we could do. Our embassy will arrange for Samuel’s body to be sent to Tel Aviv as soon as possible.”
Kadie glanced down before she returned her gaze to Curt. “I’m stunned the police let us leave so soon after. You’d think they would want to question us further, interview everyone, investigate what happened to find out why?”
“Well, they spoke to you. They didn’t have any other witnesses, and you didn’t really see anything.”
“Didn’t see anything? The guy stood over Samuel with a bloody knife! He threw a knife at my head!” Her voice came out in a harsh whisper, and she recognized she needed to be a little more discreet. “He and his gang would have killed me if they caught me.”
“Gang? What are you talking about?”
The ragged bus shuddered violently as the driver applied the brakes at a stoplight.
Kadie grabbed the back of the seat in front of her. “Two other guys chased me. They tried to shoot me with crossbows.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.” There as a brief pause. “Tell me about them.”
Kadie explained what they looked like and how she got away. Her voice became louder the more she relived the experience. The explanation she gave was thorough, ending with her on a roof when the police arrived.
Curt put his hands forward to calm her down. “So, let me get this straight . . . you saw the man in the room but didn’t actually observe him killing Samuel?”
“I don’t believe I needed to. It was obvious what happened.”
Curt tilted his head to the side. “You had quite an evening. I’m just grateful the authorities let us leave. They seemed to think another attack by ISIS was imminent, so us skipping town made sense.”
“Hopefully ISIS is asleep.”
“Don’t count on it. I have no doubt our hotel is under surveillance around the clock. While it feels like we’re safe right now, this trip is very dangerous. We have to stay alert.”
Kadie shifted her attention outside. If that were the case, she needed to pay attention to what they were doing and where they were going. The roads became less bouncy as they went further outside the city, but the transmission creaked and groaned every time the bus changed gears.
They left M40 and joined M67, which led them straight to the Ismailia Airport. The entire trip took about an hour and a half, and the abandoned airfield sat right off M67, just west of town. The bus left the main road and took a left up a side street, the trees lining either side visible for a second only as the bus headlights rumbled by. At the end of the street, the fence to the airport had been removed. The bus trudged through the packed sand until it climbed back on to the asphalt of the taxiway and eventually came to a stop.
Kadie nudged Brian to wake him up.
“Brian, we’re here.” She wasn’t quite sure where “here” was. This wasn’t what she expected when Curt said they were going to the airport. They appeared to be next to the runway, but regardless, they were alone in the darkness, a long way from the terminal, from any building for that matter. Throughout the ride there, Curt told her the trip was dangerous, yet he didn’t seem nervous. Perhaps that’s what they taught these Delta Force Commandos—how to have nerves of steel.
The bus sat in the blackness of the taxiway. Everyone remained quiet, scanning outside, and knowing they were defenseless if ISIS attacked. Curt checked his watch and directed everyone to exit the vehicle.
“Take everything with you,” he said. “If anything happens and we need to leave in a hurry, bring only the Pelican cases and your go-bags.”
It took a few minutes for the team to unload everything and even longer to stack their bags and Pelican cases on the side of the runway.
Kadie noticed Curt was still checking his watch. No doubt he had timed the pickup to perfection. After thirty minutes of them standing by the edge of the runway, her perception began to change, and she shuffled next to him.
“How much longer?”
Curt shook his head. “I don’t know. They should have been here ten minutes ago.”
“Is there a reason why we can’t wait in the terminal? It’s going to be miserable out here when the sun comes up.”
“We won’t be here that long.”
“How can you be sure? We—” She stopped as the roar of an aircraft raced to the southeast of their position at a very low altitude. Stunned by its immediate and intense appearance, Kadie fell silent, unable to yell over its deafening pitch. The plane had no exterior lights on and was almost impossible to see. She caught a glimpse of it in the ambient light before it disappeared in the darkness once again.
“There he is,” Curt said.
Kadie lost sight of the plane in the inky void, but it sounded like it banked left and was coming back toward them. The blacked-out plane showed up on short final, landing on the runway and rolling a short distance before turning around and taxiing back toward them.
It wasn’t a small airplane, but it would never pass for a commercial jet. A twin-engine propeller airplane taxied toward them and did another one-eighty-degree turn, pointing down the runway as if ready to take off again.
“Okay, everyone,” Curt hollered over the engines’ sound. “Load the cases and go-bags first.”
The team moved steadily toward the aircraft, bags and cases in hand, Kadie and Brian led the way. Kadie held one of Brian’s hands while the other clutched the small Pelican case containing his drone. Curt marched next to her, his eyes scanning their surroundings every step of the way.
They were twenty yards from the aircraft, when the first sign of trouble arrived. On the southeast side of the runway, dashes of light streaked across the runway. A POP-POP-POP could be heard over the aircraft’s humming engines.
Everyone appeared to notice it at once and huddled together short of the airplane.
“Tracer fire!” Curt yelled. “Get moving! Now!”
“What about our luggage?” LeBeau said.
“Leave it. Go!”
Kadie and Brian were the first to move. They reached the airplane in seconds. The door flew open. A grizzled older man, wearing a worn, tan flight suit with Under Armor tennis shoes, leaped outside. He brandished a small weapon with a big, curved magazine. Moving beyond the wing on the left side, he knelt and started shooting in the direction of the gunfire. The muzzle of his rifle spit fire with each shot, highlighting him in the darkness.
Brian boarded first. The poor boy’s eyes bulged, mouth open, his body visibly shaking.
“It’s going to be okay, Brian,” she said. “Pull the case in
side, then find a seat.” Brian did, and Kadie assisted the others. When Dr. Upton passed, she grabbed him by the arm. “Check on Brian for me.” Upton nodded and hurried into the plane.
She faced Curt, who motioned for everyone to hurry onto the plane. “Who is shooting at us?”
“ISIS . . . Must have followed us!”
They both yelled to overcome the roaring engines of their rescue plane. Curt moved down the line, encouraging them to speed it up. Hassan hollered and fell to the ground. The report of a rifle boomed from behind them. Curt swung around and squeezed off a few shots at the muzzle flashes behind them. He snarled as his rate of fire increased, shifting from left to right, then left again. His shoulder jolted with each pull of the trigger.
Kadie helped Hassan onto the plane. She scurried back and dragged his Pelican case to the door. LeBeau climbed out and loaded it on the plane. Once everyone was on board, Kadie ran back to Curt.
“Everyone’s on!” she yelled.
Curt kept shooting until he ran out of ammunition. The receiver on his rifle locked back; he deftly swapped out magazines, threw the bolt forward, and continued to fire. “Okay, get on! I’m right behind you!” More and more shooters seemed to appear, muzzle flashes and deadly tracers coming from all directions.
She whirled and raced to the waiting plane and climbed aboard. Brian sat in his seat, anxious, nervous, scared. When she poked her head through the door, he beamed.
“Kadie!”
She pulled herself into the plane and slid next to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “We’re going to be okay,” she said, hugging him. “We’re safe now.”
Soon after, Curt climbed aboard, and Kadie felt the aircraft lurch but not move as the pilot pushed the engines forward and back twice. That must have been his partner’s cue because moments later, he jumped through the door and closed it behind him. Kadie heard the engines advance, but the aircraft didn’t move.