by Perrin Briar
Tarek found himself smiling before he hit the floor.
17.
The streetlamp men with their long poles were making their rounds, giving the city a fantastic glow. Jessie was high in one of the mosque’s towers. She had the best view in the whole city. Across the water she could see the Lurchers wandering up and down the seashore of Port Said without aim. Disaster was so close, and yet the people on this side of the canal were content and safe.
Footsteps came up the staircase behind her. Jessie picked up her rifle and rounded a column. Someone came out onto the edge of the tower, and for a moment Jessie thought he was going to throw himself over the side. But then he began to sing a melodious tune, beautiful, if not understood by her. And as the man sang, some of the city people began to head toward the mosque. The man repeated the same few phrases over and over. Once he was done he fell silent, his head bowed. Then he headed back down the stairs.
Jessie waited a moment to ensure he was definitely gone, and then returned to her camping position. She peered through her sight and quickly found the secret entrance Jordan, Anne and Ori had gone through.
She started.
A little boy pulled on a guard’s hand, leading him across the street toward the secret entrance. The guard shook his head, but the boy kept pulling on his sleeve.
A cold sweat broke out on Jessie’s forehead. She picked up her radio, but hesitated. She wasn’t supposed to make contact unless there was an emergency. She waited.
The guard seemed to note the lack of guards, and stopped his resistance against the child. He knelt down at the stairs, pressing his fingers to a wet patch he found there. He rubbed his fingers together in quiet contemplation. He looked up at the door.
The situation had become an emergency.
“Come in, over,” Jessie said into her radio. “A guard is outside the secret entrance. I repeat, there is a guard outside the secret entrance. Requesting orders, over.”
She waited. Static answered her.
“Come in, over,” Jessie said. “A guard is outside the secret entrance. I repeat, there is a guard outside the secret entrance. Requesting orders, over.”
Again there was no answer.
Jessie cocked the rifle and sat it firmly into her shoulder. She aimed directly at the guard, the crosshair over his head. Then she moved slightly to the left and squeezed the trigger. The bullet kicked up a small puff of dust.
The guard looked at it, and then turned and looked around at the surrounding buildings. His eyes caught on the tower Jessie was in.
“Yes, I’m here arsehole,” Jessie said.
The guard turned to look at the front doors of the secret entrance.
“Don’t reach for them,” Jessie said. “Don’t do it.”
The guard stood up, wiped his brow with a hand, and then turned and descended the steps. The young boy who had led him there said something. The guard shook his head.
The boy screwed up his face and ran toward the door. Jessie stiffened, aiming at the boy. He gripped the handles and pulled on them. The guard grabbed the boy, held the doors closed with one hand, and pried the boy off. The boy squirmed in the guard’s arms.
The guard sat the boy down and shouted in his face. The boy argued back. The guard slapped the boy hard across the cheek, knocking him to the ground. The guard marched away at a hasty pace, heading deeper into the city.
The boy got up off the ground, dusting himself off. He pulled up his baggy trousers and rubbed his cheek. He looked toward the closed doors again. Then he turned and headed away, entering a building across the road.
“It might hurt now,” Jessie said. “But that guard just saved your life.”
Jessie let her shoulders relax. If the guard returned to base to report the incident it would still take time. Jessie needed to keep a sharp ear out for anyone that might try to creep up behind her. She also needed to come up with her own Plan S.
She shook her head. Things had just got a lot more complicated.
18.
Jordan knocked on the door. There was no reply, so Jordan knocked again. This time there was a grunt on the other side, unintelligible words of a man woken up in the midst of deep sleep. Jordan opened the door.
A large fat man lay in bed, his bulging stomach hanging over his spindly frog-like legs. He had a thin mop of hair and a pug nose. He spoke in heated Arabic, waving his hand as if dispelling a fly.
“Evening,” Ori said.
The king’s terrible expression of anger dissipated the instant his eyes fell upon Ori. He turned pale. He opened his mouth to shout. Jordan smacked him across the mouth with his open palm, knocking the big man’s head to one side. King Faisal wiped his mouth, finding a dribble of red on his fingertips.
“Be quiet,” Jordan said.
The king slipped his hand under his pillow.
“Uh-uh-uh,” Ori said.
He reached under the king’s pillow and pulled out a flick knife.
“Where are the others?” Jordan said.
Ori aimed the knife at the king’s face and translated Jordan’s words.
“Weapons,” Jordan said. “Where are they? A careful man like you would never leave his fate in the hands of a single blade. Where are they?”
The king made no comment.
“Never mind,” Jordan said. “We’ll just have to put you in a position where you can’t get to them. Anne, tie up our guest’s hands and feet, if you please.”
The king shouted something in Arabic toward the closed door. Jordan smacked him across the face again, this time knocking him back.
Jordan looked at the king’s feet.
“No socks?” Jordan said. “No matter. You’ll have to use one of mine.”
Jordan took off a sweaty sock. The king clenched his teeth so tight his jaw muscles bulged. Jordan kept the sock close to the king’s mouth to stuff it in if he attempted to make more noise.
“Tell me what I want to know and you won’t have to suffer,” Jordan said. “Ori, translate please. Where is the key to the food store?”
King Faisal spat at Jordan’s feet.
“We don’t have time for this!” Jordan said, smacking the king again. “Where is the key?”
King Faisal’s expression grew dark and he spoke in a low grunt.
“He’s not going to tell us,” Ori said. “We need to be more insistent.”
He leapt onto the bed and seized the king from behind, wrapping his arm around his fat neck. King Faisal grunted, choking.
“Nothing makes a man more afraid than the thought he might die,” Ori said. “You recognise me, don’t you? I’m the assassin who was going to put you down. Now, I’m going to finish what I started.”
Ori whispered in the king’s ear. King Faisal’s eyes widened with fear. His fat hands kept moving to the rolls of fat at his neck, speaking in earnest tones.
“What’s he saying?” Jordan said.
“He’s cursing our children,” Ori said. “Telling us his men will hunt us to the ends of the earth.”
To Jordan, King Faisal’s tone was soft and pleading. Jordan would never have guessed that was what he was saying.
Ori’s ears perked up, his eyes fixed on the door.
“What was that?” he said.
“What?” Jordan said.
“I heard something in the corridor,” Ori said. “Someone’s coming!”
Anne stiffened and took position beside the door. Jordan did likewise. He held the door handle and shared a look with Anne, who nodded. He pulled the door open with a fast movement. Anne took aim with her pistol and stepped into the corridor, aiming first one way and then the other.
“There’s no one here,” she said.
“We need to get out of here,” Jordan said. “Fast.”
He turned back to the bedchamber. The king’s body shook violently. Froth dribbled from his mouth and his eyes rolled into the back of his head like he was being possessed.
“What’s wrong with him?” Jordan said.
&nbs
p; “He’s epileptic?” Anne said.
“I don’t know!” Ori said. “He just suddenly starting shaking!”
“Keep his head up,” Anne said.
King Faisal’s arms flew out and smacked a side table, sending the lamp smashing to the floor.
“I don’t like this, Jordan,” Anne said. “Something’s wrong.”
The king’s body gave one last aggressive jolt and then went limp. His head lolled to one side, his tongue sticking to the silk pillow. Anne put her fingers to the rolls of fat at his neck, pressing hard to feel his pulse.
“He’s dead,” she said.
They were silent a moment.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jordan said. “Right now.”
“What about the key?” Ori said.
“I’m sorry,” Jordan said. “You’ll have to find it some other way.”
Jordan and Anne ran out into the corridor. Anne led the way, heading back toward the secret entrance. Jordan looked over his shoulder. The corridor was empty. He pulled up and moved back to the king’s chamber. Ori stood beside the bed looking down at the king.
“Ori!” Jordan said. “Come on!”
“We were so close,” Ori said.
“You’ll figure out another way,” Jordan said. “Come on.”
Ori sighed, turned, and followed Jordan. They jogged down the winding corridor and into the room with the secret entrance. Anne stood holding the hatch open. She began to climb down the ladder. Jordan took out his radio and switched it back on. He put it to his mouth.
“Jessie, we’re just about to-” he said.
“…can hear me, you’re too late!” Jessie’s voice said.
“Jessie?” Jordan said. “What’s going on?”
“I thought they’d caught you,” Jessie said, her relief tangible. “They know something’s up. They found the guards you took out. They’re covering the secret entrance now.”
“Which ones?” Jordan said.
“All of them,” Jessie said.
“What do we do now?” Anne said, climbing out of the hole.
“They’ll be coming down here any minute,” Jordan said. “We need to hurry. We’ll instigate Plan S.”
19.
Jordan peeked around the door at the interior. The chairs were empty and the clock ticked on the mantelpiece. It had a museum set piece feel to it.
Jordan stepped into the room and held the door open for Anne and Ori. The room was huge, with thick blue-veined marble pillars that snaked up to the vaulted ceilings. Delicate red roses and green vines were painted in spirals around the base of the domed ceiling.
“The Moon Door is this way,” Ori said.
The eyes of a hundred portraits followed them as they crossed the room. A female servant rounded a corner and screamed upon seeing them, dropping the linen she was carrying. Jordan, Anne and Ori passed her by. The servant ran away, shouting at the top of her voice.
“Shouldn’t we stop her?” Ori said.
“If she doesn’t report seeing us, someone else will,” Jordan said. “We need to use the time to get out of here as quickly as possible. Which way now?”
Ori led them into a narrow corridor decked in a rich red carpet and matching drapes. Dozens of doorways led off on either side, but Ori took no notice of them, running instead for the end of the hall. He stopped beside a doorway and gestured for them to enter.
“Quickly!” he said. “In here!”
Jordan and Anne ran into the room, little more than a shoebox. It had no windows.
“There’s no door here!” Jordan said. “Ori, there’s no door!”
He turned. A chill ran through him, every hair standing to attention.
“Ori?” he said.
Ori stood just outside the doorframe. When he looked up he wore a crooked smile, an ugly thing a boss wears to bully inferiors. The blood drained from Jordan’s face. He ran forward.
Ori jumped up, waving his hand at something at the top of the door. His hand passed through something, flashing red. He stepped back as an iron grate slammed into place over the doorframe. An alarm rang up, the jarring kind like an old-fashioned alarm clock.
Jordan thrust his arms through a gap between the bars and grabbed for Ori. He was just out of reach. Jordan braced the door with his arms and attempted to lift it. His arms shook, but the door didn’t budge. It was too heavy.
Ori looked up at the gate.
“King Faisal and his obsession with security,” he said. “The only house in the whole city with electricity, and he uses it to power his security system.”
“Let us out of here!” Anne said.
“I can’t let you go, I’m afraid,” Ori said. “It wouldn’t do for us all to get away. They’ll scour the city, making it impossible to escape.”
“What are you doing?” Anne said, gripping the gate and pulling at it. “Let us out!”
“No,” Jordan said, voice distant. “This was the plan all along, wasn’t it, Ori?”
Ori smiled.
“Yes,” he said. “It was.”
“You won’t get away with this,” Jordan said.
“I’m afraid I will,” Ori said, “and rather handsomely, I might add.”
Ori looked out of a window at the people emerging from their houses, drawn by the shrill alarm.
“I’d say we have a couple of minutes before they arrive,” Ori said. “Do you know, I had kissed this score away when the attempted assassination went tits up. That’s the phrase you English use, isn’t it? Tits up. I love it. It was an attempted assassination, not a kidnap. We needed that key. Not to save the city, you understand. But for ourselves.
“I honestly thought you were going to hand me over to the authorities when you had the chance. Most people would. But then, you’re not most people, are you? You let me go! I couldn’t believe it. You might just be the only people left with a shred of humanity in them.
“Oh, and your little ploy on the boat with the unloaded gun was ingenious, though it didn’t work quite so well as you’d hoped. A trained man knows the difference between a loaded gun and an empty one, a mistake you would not have made had you known I was once a soldier. Your plan did nothing but enter me into your confidence.
“You had a ship, plenty of food, and a safe full of weapons. But how to get at it? That was my next problem. That’s why I sent those men. I thought sending four of them might be overkill, but for half a tin each, they weren’t too bad. They were meant to beat you and steal everything on board. Of course, they weren’t at all trustworthy. I was prepared to strike them down once they got the safe open. Alas, that plan didn’t work out either as you turned out to be much more skilled than I had expected – even after I distracted you with a noise for the men to attack you.
“But then I had an idea, a way to breathe life into my original assassination plan once more. I knew you wouldn’t help me if it was just to make us rich. Luckily I had already laid the groundwork by giving you the story of the evil rich king and his poor citizens. You three were just what I needed – a crack team of fighters in desperate need of escape. All I needed to do was show you some starving people and voila.”
“But you haven’t gained anything from this,” Anne said. “The king never told us where he keeps the key. We never found it.”
“Perhaps you didn’t,” Ori said. “But I did.”
He pulled down the collar of his uniform revealing a gold chain around his neck. At the end of it was a single key.
“It’s really very simple,” Ori said. “I told you the king trusts no one but himself. So who is the only person he would trust with the key? Himself. He keeps the key on his person at all times. Should he die there are protocols in place for the key to pass to his eldest son. The king isn’t about to let everything he’s worked so hard for go down the drain. You should know that about powerful people. They will do anything to maintain it. I slipped him a cyanide pill the moment your backs were turned. I couldn’t just let him go. He knew what I looked like.”
“We saved you,” Anne said, her voice small and defeated.
“And I thank you for that,” Ori said.
“By framing us for murder?” Anne said.
“You are good people, and that shall always be your downfall,” Ori said. “You cannot do what needs to be done, when it needs to be done. You cannot pull the trigger.”
A cacophony of male voices rushed past the window, and the wheel on the Moon Door began to turn.
“That’s my cue to leave, I’m afraid,” Ori said. “I hope the new king is not too harsh when sentencing you, though I’ve heard he’s a chip off the old block.”
“Don’t do this,” Jordan said. “Please.”
“It’s done,” Ori said, moving toward the opposite room.
“They’re not going to let you go!” Jordan said.
“We’ll see,” Ori said.
He stood beside the Moon Door. The wheel spun once more and opened. A troop of men in orange and green uniforms entered, matching the one Ori still wore.
Ori saluted to the captain of the guard. He spoke in Arabic and gestured toward Jordan and Anne.
“Don’t let him go!” Jordan shouted, pointing at Ori. “He’s the murderer! Stop him!”
But the guards didn’t listen, or else couldn’t understand. They marched toward them.
“No!” Anne shouted. “Get him! He’s the one! Grab him!”
Ori smiled, turned, and left through the Moon Door. The guards crowded around the metal gate, peering in at the occupants with curiosity, anger, and not a little fear.
Port Said, Egypt
20.
Empty shells of burnt out buildings, their innards lying in mounds of rubble around them, stood frozen in time to a conflict that could only be resolved with fire and total destruction. Ever-present carrion circled above, a bullseye for new prey. But amongst the ashes of Port Said Tim sensed evidence of the true victors.