by Jon F. Merz
For a moment, I wondered if Zero had convinced him. But then he stood abruptly and ordered our hoods put back on. As it went dark again, he said to Zero. “Very well, I will ask around about the Brothers of Bogside and see if what you say is the truth or not. If it is the truth then perhaps we will have a proper meeting. But if it is not the truth then I will return here shortly. And kill you.”
“You do that,” said Zero. “We’ll go ahead and wait here.”
This produced a snort of derision from the man and a chorus of laughter from the other men in the room. Of course, we’d wait here. Where else could we possibly go?
I heard the footfalls of the man we’d just seen walking away and then a door slammed somewhere across the room. There was nothing left to do but wait, and I wondered how long it would take this guy to reach out to his contacts and ask his questions. If he was as well connected as Zero had said, then it shouldn’t take long. But if this wasn’t Nadi, it might take longer.
The only question left to ask was whether or not Zero had done enough to lay the groundwork for our cover story back in Ireland. If he had, then we’d be good-to-go as soon as the guy came back.
If he hadn’t, then my hopes of a romantic Santorini rendezvous were going to be for nothing.
6
I don’t know exactly how long we sat there waiting. I felt the passage of time by tracking the minuscule amount of ambient light I could see through the hood. I had started almost directly above me and gradually trekked down and toward my left side. It also gave me a vague sense of our direction and where west was, despite the obvious attempts by our captors to disorient us when we’d been back in the van.
I think Zero dozed off at one point because I heard his breathing deepen and then it almost became a snore at one point. I grinned in spite of our situation. Zero had always had the amazing ability to sleep whenever he felt the need, regardless of the circumstances. I was trying to perfect my own ability to do just that, but I was still working on it. The most I’d managed was a brief snooze before nap-jerking myself almost into a concussion one time. Then again, at that point, I wasn’t anywhere near as experienced as my mentor was. He’d pretty much seen everything at that point.
After what must have been at least three hours, I heard movement far off - footsteps coming back toward the room we were in. The door opened and then the steps came closer.
Zero woke up and we both stayed still.
The hoods were ripped off of our heads and we both blinked like crazy to acclimate our vision again. I saw that the man was back, sitting in the same chair he had occupied earlier and the armed guards were back as well. The expression on his face didn’t look any more sympathetic than it had before And I wondered what sort of stuff he was going to say to us.
“It seems you have checked out.”
Zero nodded and resumed speaking as if the three hours had not even passed. “As I said, we’re interested in securing money for our operations in Northern Ireland. If you could point us to Nadi’s whereabouts, we’d be extremely grateful.”
“As would we,” said the man.
Zero frowned. “Excuse me?”
“We are also looking for Nadi,” said the man. “And you’re going to help us find him.”
Zero tried to smile. “I’m sorry, I’m not exactly sure what you’re saying here, friend.”
The man leaned forward. “My name is Murad. And I work with the Mukhabarat. Do you know this name?”
Oh shit.
Of course Zero played it off. “No, I’m afraid I do not.”
There’s no way we’d ever admit that we knew who the Mukhabarat was because doing so would subject us to more scrutiny. Scrutiny neither one of us wanted, especially when it came to the General Intelligence Directorate - the Mukhabarat - Egypt’s spy agency.
They weren’t exactly the nicest folks on the planet. People had been known to simply disappear while in their custody and given that tensions with Israel, while tempered these days, were still simmering under the surface, we didn’t want them thinking we were Mossad agents or something else that represented a real and credible threat to Egypt.
That wouldn’t have ended well for us. The Egyptians had perfected the use of power tools for their torture sessions. I didn’t need a day out with a power drill.
“We take care of Egypt,” said Murad. “We are like her protectors. Eagles in the sky always watching to make sure nothing bad happens to our beloved country. Do you understand that?”
Zero and I both nodded. But Murad didn’t seem to care what we did because he just kept talking. “This man you seek. Nadi. He had become an important person that we also search for. It seems as though he is conducting business within Egypt that includes meeting with a certain segment of society we are deeply concerned about.”
Zero cleared his throat. “We had no idea.
Murad smiled but there was no real joy in it. “Of course you did. That is why you are here. You want the money that Nadi is able to provide.” Murad sighed. “And because of this, you and your young brother here are in a bit of a pickle, I believe you might say.”
“How so?”
“Well, not only is it strictly illegal for you to be begging for money to be used in terrorist operations, but it seems as though British Intelligence would be especially pleased if they could get their hands on you. Running your names through the databases certainly got their attention.”
I frowned. I hadn’t considered the idea that Zero might have done too good of a job establishing our cover identity back in the UK. I didn’t especially like the fact that MI-6 wanted to get its hands on us. Although that certainly did help give us credibility.
“Fuck the Brits,” said Zero. “They can come here and get us if they want.”
Murad smiled. “Yes, well, we’ll have to see about that, won’t we?”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning perhaps there’s a way you can help me,” said Murad. “Unless of course you’d rather me have you dropped off over at the British embassy now so you can find yourselves in the care of MI-6 for a nice flight home for trial and subsequent jailing?”
Zero said nothing for a moment. “What do you want us to do?”
“Only what you are already attempting to do,” said Murad. “Make contact with Nadi and then call me when you have done so. Once you are at the meeting, we will come and scoop you all up. Our concern is with Nadi only, so you will…get lost, let’s say, and you’re free to go at that point.”
Zero eyed him. “And the Brits? Won’t they be upset that you’ve let us go?”
Murad shrugged. “Our relationship with London isn’t my concern at this moment. Getting my hands on Nadi definitely is.”
Zero looked at me and then back at Murad. “What if we can’t find him?”
“Yes, well, I guess you’d better find him. Because if you don’t, then I’ve been told by the British that we can simply lose you somewhere in the desert and they won’t come looking for you. Not exactly a pair of boys loved by the folks back home, are you?”
Zero sighed. “Do you have any leads then? We thought we were at the right place until you came crashing in and bunged it all up.”
“The cafe owner was under obligation to report anyone asking for Nadi. He has used that place in the past, which is why we were ready to come in and grab you. Unfortunately, we have not seen him in some time. It is possible he is not in Egypt at all, but traveling.” Murad leaned closer. “For your sake, however, I hope he is indeed here.”
Zero nodded. “How do we get in contact with you if we do find him?”
“I’ll give you a special number that will be manned twenty-four hours per day by one of my men. Call that number with your location and we will be there.”
I frowned. “I don’t like it, brother.”
Murad turned his attention to me. “So, your little brother can speak after all.”
“I can speak,” I said. “And I don’t like the idea of working for you.”
“No.”
“It’s a horrible place, full of scorpions and other things that would like nothing better than to pick your bones clean.” He shifted his chair until he was closer to me. “And we do something special with people we don’t really like: we take you out and dig a hole just deep enough to leave your had exposed above the sand. At first, you think, this isn’t so bad. The sand can keep you cool for a little while. Perhaps it rains a bit. You think you can survive. But then the sun - always the sun - it starts to burn. You and your brother have such skin. Alabaster almost. The sun will be merciless. It will burn you until your skin starts to bubble. You’ll have at last twelve hours out there in the blinding light, and the pain will start toward the end of the first day when it sears you into blindness. When night falls and it gets cold, you will feel as though every nerve ending is on fire. A fire you can not quench no matter how much you wish to. And when the sun comes up on day two, it will be as though someone has poured a salty gasoline mix onto the fire that already burns you. The sun will burn through more layers of your skin until you start to become crazy from the pain. And then the creatures will start to find you. Small terrible creatures that will crawl all over your face and bite at your incinerated skin and it will feel like a million tiny daggers being plunged into your brain over and over again until you scream yourself hoarse and pass out from the dizzying amount of pain.”
Murad leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps you will die then. Perhaps not. It may take several days. I have seen a man last upwards of a week in this condition. And it is not something I would ever wish to have to try to endure. But for you and your brother, this is what awaits you if you do not help us.”
I said nothing for a moment. Murad could certainly paint quite the visual with his words. And I didn’t doubt the fact that he’d probably done exactly that to some other hapless prisoner of his at some point in the past. What an awful way to die.
“Very well, then,” said Zero. “We’ll do it.”
I started to say something but Zero snapped at me. “Shut up. We’ll do it and that’s the end of the conversation. Do as I say.”
I stayed quiet. It was important that Murad think Zero had control over me despite my reckless insistence against doing this. Of course we were going to do it. The priority right now was getting away from Murad and back into the slipstream so we could locate Nadi.
I was definitely not happy about having already attracted the attention of the Mukhabarat. The last thing we needed was a bunch of spooks surveilling us while we combed the streets of Cairo looking for a terrorist bag man. Not cool at all.
Still, in one way, it might have given us a break. I had little doubt that Nadi had people of his own. And if word had reached him about Zero and I getting pinched by the Mukhabarat, then maybe he’d find us instead of us needing to go to him.
The only way we’d find out was to get back out there as quickly as possible and that meant getting the hell out of Murad’s custody.
Zero nodded at Murad. “We’ll do it. Don’t mind my brother. He’s got a bit of a temper on him is all. But we’re good. We’ll do it.”
Murad eyed me for a while and I met his gaze without flinching. Finally, he took a deep breath. “Very well. I will have my men bring you back to your hotel and you can start anew from there.” He held up his hand. “But gentlemen - and I use that term generously - do not let me think that you are trying to mess with me. Understood? Because if I think that for even a split second, I will have you picked up again and we’ll take a nice long drive out into the desert. It will be a trip from which neither one of you will ever return.”
7
Murad’s men bundled us up, replaced the hoods on our heads, and trundled us back through the warehouse to the van. They were as gentle as they had been the first time. I don’t think Murad liked the idea of a couple of Irish terrorists on his turf. I couldn’t say I blamed him, although I could have done without getting my head knocked on the frame of the van when the guys put me in the back of it. I needed to keep my good looks up for Santorini, after all.
The ride back to our hotel was apparently going to be the same meandering affair as the trip from the cafe had been. We rolled out and started a series of twists and turns, followed by straightaway action and then more turns. If I’d been keeping track of our location before, now I was completely confused and hoped that Zero was too. If he knew where we were, I was going to be disappointed in myself for not keeping track of it better.
We slowed to a stop by what must have been a traffic light, before turning left and heading down a narrow street. I could tell it was narrow by the way the ambient noises sounded a bit more muffled than they had been a moment earlier on the wider thoroughfare.
We took a couple of slow turns and then more of a straight path again. I thought I heard the rumble or whine of another engine aside from the van.
Animated conversation erupted from the men in the van with us. Their Arabic was easy enough to translate in my head.
“What the hell is that?”
“Motor bike,” said another. “It’s coming up fast.”
“He’s going to get crushed if he tries to get between us and the wall.”
“Gun!”
I heard the rattle of gunfire erupt now and felt the ping of bullets bouncing off of the van’s exterior. I instinctively bundled myself up into as tight a ball as I could possibly get, with my feet drawn up and my head tucked, on my side to minimize the chance of getting hit with a round. I could tell Zero was doing the same thing. Who the hell was attacking us?
The guys in the van started trying to radio in our location and I heard another guy rack the slide on a pistol, roll down a window and start firing back.
“There’s another motor bike on this side!”
More gunfire sounded now as the van was peppered with spray after spray of automatic rounds. I could hear the bullets impacting. The guys in the van opened up and their shell casings made a particular cling when they ejected and hit the floor of the van.
“I’m hit!” One of Murad’s men must have taken a shot. But the tone of his voice, it wasn’t too grave, probably just a flesh wound.
“Stay still and quiet,” said Zero then in my ear.
“Roger.”
“They’re coming up faster!”
The van swerved from side-to-side as the driver tried his best to squash the motor biker’s against the side of the walls on either side of us. But he cut it too close at one point and the van smashed into the wall instead, ripping the front bumper off with a resounding grinding tear.
We bounced off the wall and back into the middle of the alley way. The driver jerked the van around to the right and nearly rolled from the extreme force of the turn. Zero and I rolled all over the place in the back of the van. If we got out of this thing alive, we were probably going to have concussions for our troubles.
“Shake them! Shake them!”
“There’s another car now!”
“Pick-up truck!”
More gunfire hit the van and it sounded like a much heavier caliber weapon. I didn’t know how many people in Cairo had access to weaponry, but judging by the sound of things, a lot of them did.
More rounds peppered the van and I heard the sick slap of one of them impacting flesh followed by a grunt and exhale.
“Sayed is down!”
There must have been two other men with us in the van. One of them was driving and one was on the radio pleading for backup from the police or whoever else was listening. The van kept swerving in and out of traffic. We must have been back on the main thoroughfare now because I heard screeches and brakes and horns all blaring as the van did its best to thread its way through traffic in order to keep themselves alive. If they stopped now, we were all dead.
“There’s a road block up ahead,” said the driver. “Police
are there!”
“Yes!” shouted the other guy in the van. He must have leaned out the window and fired off a few more rounds. “Just get us there and we’ll be safe.”
We screamed down the street now, the driver putting the pedal to the floor to get us to the police checkpoint. The gunfire from behind us started to let up, which made me frown. Instinctively, I knew there was a problem. Unless the bad guys chasing us didn’t want to risk a shoot-out with the cops.
Or else-
Gunfire sounded from in front of us and the entire windshield of the van shattered as the rounds took the driver and the other guy out in a hail of lead.
So much for the cops being good guys.
The van continued straight ahead and we impacted a jersey barrier a moment later, sending Zero and I crashing toward the front of the van. I hit the rear of the seat and Zero did the same amid the crunching of metal and the engine block.
I heard the hiss and then smelled the gas. If we didn’t get the hell out of here soon, we were going to die when the van exploded.
The rear doors of the van ripped open and we stayed utterly still as men poured inside. They showed no regard for Murad’s men, but instead, hauled Zero and I out of there. They kept the hoods on us and threw us in the back of what must have been another van and then we were zooming off into the traffic even as the sirens started to register in my head.
Well, it was either that or my head was ringing from the impact.
Zero was breathing quickly next to me, most likely trying to flush his lungs with oxygen and shake off the remainder of the effects from the firefight and crash. I did the same, willing the pain in my head to subside so I could hear what the hell was happening around us. I wanted to be fully alert when we got to wherever we were going.