The Chi Rho Conspiracy

by Rene Fomby

  Gavin smiled at her wryly, shaking his head. “I stand corrected. Not just any ant, but super ant. We’re looking for a special kind of ant with a cape and a big red S painted on its chest.”

  “No, smartypants. You’re missing the point. We’re not looking for an ant. We’re looking for some mysterious blob buried way out in the middle of the desert. The ant is just an excuse to get us past the guards.”

  “And out into a desert where no animal other than this ant can survive for longer than a few minutes. I’m beginning to wish I’d rented something other than a Jeep for this trip. Something with a big ass air conditioner.”

  40

  Matmata, Tunisia

  “Okay, so where exactly is this amazing Star Wars set?” With all the sweat pouring off his forehead and into his eyes, Gavin was having problems keeping the Jeep centered in the middle of the road. For what seemed like the millionth time, he wiped his face with a towel and made a minor adjustment to the air conditioning vent.

  “Oh, quit your bellyaching. We’re almost there.” Andy was watching the Jeep’s GPS with her face just inches from the passenger side AC vent. “And I promise you, it’ll be epic!”

  “It had better be. I’m just glad we headed out here early in the morning. I can’t imagine what it’s like in the middle of the day.”

  “Could be worse,” Andy noted. “Could be August.”

  “Yeah, well, fat chance conning me into coming out here in the middle of summer. June is bad enough.” He wiped his face again. “So the plan is, we take a look, you snap some pictures, then we head back ASAP to find a hotel for a shower and some cold beers. Sound about right?”

  “Sure,” Andy agreed with a grin. “But better make it two showers. Separate showers, one for you and then one for me. The law and all that—we wouldn’t want to press our luck.”

  Gavin looked over at her and for once didn’t mind the teasing. Something had shifted between them, something important, and for the first time since this mission had begun he was really starting to enjoy himself. Except for the damned heat.

  Fifteen minutes later they pulled in to their destination, the Hôtel Sidi Driss. “This is amazing, Gavin!” Andy was beside herself, jumping out into the parking lot even before the Jeep had come to a full stop. She spun slowly in a circle as she took in the site. “It’s almost exactly like all the shots of Lars Owen’s farm in the first Star Wars movie. Look! That’s where Aunt Beru’s kitchen should be. And there’s Luke’s room!”

  The whole place looked pretty sketchy to Gavin, a rundown troglodyte building with a sign welcoming them to the “Hotel Sidi Driss,” hand painted in red Arabic script and rough blue English block letters. They entered the hotel—if you could call it that—through a tall archway, emerging into a large bowl cut into the earth, with smaller archways leading to the various rooms scattered all around them. A crudely painted sign on one wall pointed them to “Star Wars.”

  “Oooh! This is just so awesome!” Andy ran from one room to the next like a giddy schoolgirl. “Gavin, isn’t this just the bomb diggity?”

  “Certainly looks like something that’s been hit with a bomb,” he muttered under his breath.

  Suddenly he heard a voice pipe up directly behind him. “Marhaban. Ahlan wa-sahla.” Gavin turned to take in a short Arabic man, brown skinned and dressed in a what looked like a traditional, dirty white Tunisian robe—what the locals called a jebba, he remembered from Andy’s packet. “Welcome to the Hôtel Sidi Driss,” the man continued, recognizing them immediately as American. “My home is your home. You look like you’ve had a long drive. Can I get you some refreshment?”

  “Yes, min fadlik,” Gavin answered with a polite smile, surprised to hear his host speaking Arabic and not Berber, the predominant language in this part of the country. “I’d like a Boga Lim if you have it, and I’m sure my wife would love a Boga Light.” Boga was a local brand of soft drink, the name being a contraction of the French words for beverage, boisson, and carbonated, gazeuze.

  The hotel manager disappeared for a minute or so, and when he returned Gavin was pleased to see that he had decanted the drinks into glasses but hadn’t added any ice. Gavin had long since become accustomed to the native North African strains of bacteria, but he still had to be very careful about everything that Andy ate or drank. Coming down with a bad case of tourista in a Four Seasons hotel would be bad enough, but out here in the desert it would be a complete disaster.

  The manager handed him the drinks with a small bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Ali, and this is my family’s hotel.” He waved a hand behind him proudly. “We owned it for many years before the American, George Lucas, came for his movie. After that, business was very good for a while. Some of our guests even returned several years ago to repaint the rooms so they would look more like the movies. Who knows? Maybe someday even Luke Skywater will come, no?”

  “I think if he came he would be quite delighted at everything you’ve done here, Ali,” Gavin answered. “By the way, my name is Harley, and that over there is my wife Heather. She’s a big fan of Star Wars. We’re on our honeymoon, and she absolutely insisted on seeing this before we left Tunisia.”

  Ali gave him another small bow, his hands pressed tightly together in front of him. “Harley. Heather. So nice to meet you.” He turned to Gavin with a slight twinkle in his eye. “Honeymoon couple, eh? Well, we have a very nice honeymoon suite that will be just perfect for you. I make you a good price, no?”

  Gavin glanced over at Andy, who was busily bouncing from one room to another and paying them not one lick of attention. “W-e-l-l, I’m not sure whether we’re staying the night. We’re kind of on a tight schedule.”

  Ali grabbed Gavin’s elbow and led him toward a table in the shade. “Ah, but you don’t want to head out into the desert in the middle of the day. Very hot, very hot. And there are many bad men who come out around this time of day to steal from the tourists on the road. You can relax here, my wife will make you lunch. She makes the best ojja in Tunisia. You like ojja? It is very spicy, but she can make it milder if you wish.”

  “Lunch sounds great, Ali. And spicy’s fine with me, but let me check with my wife.” Gavin suddenly noticed that she had completely disappeared. “Where did she run off to, anyway? Heather!”

  “Up here, honey,” she called from a balcony directly above him. “This place is just so cool. Can we stay the night?”

  41

  Matmata

  Ali put them up for the evening in a sparsely furnished room with two small side tables and one queen-sized bed. Gavin thought to object, but there was just no way he could explain why a young honeymoon couple preferred to sleep in separate beds.

  He tested out the mattress as Andy slipped into the bathroom to put on her pajamas. It was way overstuffed, and lumpy in the few places where it wasn’t too soft. His back was going to kill him in the morning.

  To Gavin’s relief, Andy walked out of the bathroom wearing a pink cotton pajama top and bottom. Very little flesh showing, which was critical if he was going to get any sleep at all that night. “Bathroom’s all yours, partner,” she said, bouncing down onto the bed. “Umm. Not exactly the Hyatt, but I guess a lumpy mattress is part of the overall Tunisian experience.”

  “Yeah, I had to swap out the mattress in my apartment in Rabat as soon as I got there,” Gavin noted as he grabbed his own pajamas and headed for the bathroom. “I think it actually had a negative sleep number, if you know what I mean.”

  When he returned, Andy had pulled some extra cushions off the small couch in the back of the room and had built a kind of wall down the middle of the bed. “Left side or right?” she asked, plumping up a pillow on the left side of the bed.

  “Looks like you’ve already picked,” Gavin answered. “Oh, I left the light on in the bathroom and cracked the door a bit so we can see if we need to get up in the middle of the night. I hope that’s all right with you.”

  “No,
that’s brilliant. Plus, I’m not so sure I want to be padding across this floor in bare feet without watching out for scorpions. Or whatever else might crawl out of the desert looking for food.”

  Gavin smiled wickedly at her as he clicked off the overhead light and crawled into bed. “Maybe those ants in your book. Didn’t you say they could scamper across the floor at about a meter a second?”

  Andy hit him in the face with her pillow. “Thanks for that image. Now I’ll never get to sleep!”

  But both of them were exhausted from their long trip across the desert in the heat, and before long they were both sound asleep, snoring lightly on their sides with their backs pressed against the wall of cushions.

  ※

  Andy woke up automatically a few minutes before the alarm went off on her phone. And quickly realized that at some point in the night, Gavin had turned over and was facing her. And the cushion wall had disappeared.

  She reached back and grabbed his shoulder. “Hey, you, wake up. It’s morning time in paradise.”

  Gavin came awake slowly, reaching up to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Wha—is it morning already?”

  “Yes, sleepyhead,” she answered. “And by the way, unless you brought your gun to bed last night and slipped it into your pajamas, you’ve got some ‘splaining to do …”

  “Oh!” Gavin was suddenly wide awake, and realized that at some point during the night he had snuggled up close to Andy from behind, his right arm draped lightly across her waist. And, more problematically, his body had responded appropriately. Or inappropriately, in this case. He jumped back away from her in a flash. “Andy, I’m so sorry!”

  She had already turned to face him, a slightly bemused expression on her face. “Now who’s the tease, eh big boy?” She picked up the top of the covers and peeked underneath. “Hmm. Did I do all that?”

  Gavin’s face had turned the color of a ripe tomato as he raced to the bathroom, turning his body slightly as he slid past her in the cramped room to hide his unfortunate situation. “Andy, I—I—I’m sorry! I don’t know what to say—”

  “You’re fine, silly boy,” she responded, now clearly enjoying his embarrassment. “Not my first time around that block, I assure you.” The alarm on her phone picked that moment to go off, and she reached over to silence it. “But it’s time to get cleaned up and out of here before the desert heats up. You can grab the first shower.” She paused, but couldn’t help herself. “And if I can make a suggestion, you might want to make that a cold shower.”

  She heard the water running as he quickly showered and shaved off his morning stubble. In ten minutes he emerged looking refreshed but still completely mortified.

  “The bathroom’s free, and I got the hot water running so the shower will be all warmed up by the time you get in there.” Gavin grabbed his shoes off the floor, turning them upside down and shaking them to make sure nothing had crawled in during the night. “While you’re getting dressed, I’m gonna go check on the Jeep. Take some of this stuff we brought in last night and get it tied back down. Ali promised last night he’ll have breakfast for us in twenty.”

  “Twenty minutes will be more than enough. I’ll bring my overnight bag and meet you in the dining room when I’m dressed.” Andy didn’t miss the fact that Gavin actually had taken an ice-cold shower. Or at least as ice cold as water got out in the Northern Sahara. After dealing with all the blatant misogyny in Naval Intelligence, it was refreshing to spend some time with a man who was actually decent toward her for a change. Not that their relationship would ever go anywhere beyond friendship, of course, but it still made her more hopeful that someday she might have something more going on in her life than just the job. And, to be completely honest with herself, waking up with Gavin pressed against her was not the worst way to start her day.

  42

  Matmata

  Ali had been true to his word, and after a quick breakfast they loaded Andy’s overnight case into the rear of the Jeep and headed back across the desert to Medenine, and then on to Tataouine. They were just past Bir Lahmar and less than twenty kilometers from their destination when Andy spotted trouble ahead.

  “Uh-oh, G. Looks like we have company.”

  “Well, it is a main road out here,” Gavin said as she reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a small pair of binoculars.

  “No, not road traffic. A road block just up ahead.”

  Gavin braked to a halt. “Should we try to go around? Is there another way to get to Tataouine?” He tried to remember an intersection they had come across along their way, but the last he could recall was all the way back in Medenine.

  “Too late. They apparently saw us stop and are headed our way.” Andy leaned forward. “Looks like two trucks. Army. Or army surplus, maybe. And six or seven men.”

  “Tunisian soldiers? I wasn’t aware they were running any road blocks out this way. What could they want?”

  Andy pulled the binoculars down and looked over at him, one eyebrow arched. “Don’t think it’s regular army. More like freelancers. The ‘bad guys’ Ali warned us about.” Gavin started to reach under the dash for his gun, but Andy leaned over to stop him. “Not a good idea, Gavin. We’re outmanned and outgunned three to one.”

  Gavin wasn’t completely convinced. “Well, between us we’ve got, what, eighteen, twenty rounds? And I’m willing to bet we’re a hell of a lot better trained at marksmanship than these yahoos.”

  “Yeah, but at least two of the guys have what looks to me like Kalashnikovs. AK-47s. So unless you want to go back home to America looking like a pincushion, our best bet here is to try to talk our way out of this. And Ali said these bandits were ripping off tourists, not killing them. I’ll give you dollars to donuts that the real Tunisian army is willing to look the other way for a simple robbery, particularly if they get a small cut of the action, but outright murder raises too many ugly questions back at the home office.”

  “Okay,” Gavin agreed. “We’ll play it your way. But reach back and make sure your overnight is open and close at hand, and your hairdryer is sitting on top of the pile.”

  Andy smiled grimly. “Already handled that when we left Matmata this morning.” She pushed her binoculars under her seat. No reason to make the bad guys think they were anything other than the carefree American tourists they were pretending to be. “And you take the lead. Just my sweet hubby trying to protect me. And whatever they want, short of rape or murder—”

  “Yeah, just hand it over. I gotcha.” The two trucks had pulled up in front of them, blocking the way forward. Gavin stepped out of the Jeep, holding a road map in his left hand. He kept his right hand near the pistol, tucked away just inside the open window under the dash. “Hey, fellas,” he called out. “Any of you speak English? We’re kind of lost. Which way is it to Tataouine?”

  One of the men jumped down, holding an AK-47 loosely at his side. Gavin took him to be their leader. Boss man jerked his head behind him. “Only one way to Tataouine. That way. What is your business here?”

  Gavin spread his hands, in the process positioning his right hand even closer to the hidden gun. But, realistically, he knew his chances of actually getting the drop on these guys was close to zero. Actually, way less than that. “We’re tourists. The wife here is a scientist, has a thing for some crazy desert ant that lives around here. Have you heard of it?”

  Several more men had dropped down off the trucks and were slowly encircling the Jeep. Andy shifted slightly in her seat, leaning toward Gavin and in the same motion putting her left hand on top of the unzipped overnight bag. Just in case. “Honey, is there a problem?” she asked, building a map in her head of exactly where each of the men was positioned. Six men, not seven. Better odds, but still a losing proposition if things went upside down.

  Boss man stepped forward and pointed the tip of his rifle toward the Jeep. “What you got in there? Mind if we take a look?”

  The man’s accent was heavy, but Gavin
had no problem understanding exactly what he wanted. He settled his right hand on the window frame, several of his fingers twitching subconsciously. “Uh, we don’t want any trouble, here.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Andy shaking her head at him, urging him to stay calm and play along. “We’re just on our honeymoon. Nothing in the car but our clothes and some water.”

  “Then you won’t mind if we check your car for contraband. Make sure you’re not trying to smuggle something into our country.” He smiled at Gavin, baring his teeth, then jerked his head toward one of the men who was standing at the rear of the Jeep. “Youssef! Take a look.”

  Youssef started opening their bags, pulling out handfuls of clothing and tossing them carelessly onto the road. Another man had moved to the passenger’s side window and was leering at Andy, leaning over a little to check out her legs. She was instantly glad she had decided to don a loose-fitting pair of khaki slacks this morning instead of the shorts she had originally picked out. Youssef made quick work of their bags, then held up his hands, gesturing that he had found nothing of any interest. The light desert wind was already starting to blow the clothing off the road and onto the sand dunes lining the highway.

  Boss man nodded. “Okay, nothing back there. Let me see your papers. Your wallet? Your woman friend’s purse?”

  Reluctantly, Gavin fished out his wallet and handed it over. Andy handed her purse to the man standing beside her, happy to deflect his attention away from her body for at least a short while. Boss man waved at him to bring it over. “Karim, ‘ahdaraha huna!” After emptying the wallet and purse of cash and their credit cards and identification, Boss man tossed them both onto the roadway and pointed to Gavin’s pockets. “Empty them,” he ordered.