“Water, please give me water.”
“Waste my water on you … never! You will soon die from your wounds, whether you have water or not.” There had obviously been too much standing around and watching Cairo. “Stop staring at him, you bunch of morons. None of us gets paid until we deliver the goods, so if you want to get out of here today, go and get me the body of the girl … NOW!”
Chapter 16
-
Confusion and Chaos
“I have a gurney, come on,” Bast called out as she banged on the door of the room she had left Quentin in, and walked on.
Quentin was out of the room in an instant. He followed her along the corridor to their room. “That is not a stretcher, Bast. That is a massage table.”
“Yes, but it has wheels and it will move a body.”
Quentin could not disagree, though he had his doubts that they would be able to pass it off as a genuine stretcher. “Surely they must have a Medical Centre here, a hotel of this size. Couldn’t we get a real stretcher?”
Bast did not have time for a discussion. “Medical Centre, ground floor, ancients, ground floor, Fitness Centre, on the roof.”
Point well-made, Quentin went and grabbed a pillow and some sheets from his bedroom and returned without saying a word. Carefully they lifted Rose onto the massage bench and draped the sheets over so that they covered much of the sides. It looked better than either of them could have hoped for.
“So far, so good,” said Quentin. He was alert, his brain was working well, though he still could not see how they were going to be able to wheel Rose out of the hotel without all of them falling into the hands of the ancients. The fake ambulance crew routine had been done to death in movie after movie. It was a clichéd scene which would fool nobody. “What is your plan?”
“There is an ambulance on the way for Rose.” Bast placed a gentle hand on her friend. “You will be in a hospital very soon where they will take very good care of you. For now, please lie still as we do not want you to fall … Where are they?”
“Where are who?”
The question went unanswered as two Egyptian men and a lady stepped from the lift. They were each dressed in white, even down to their white fabric slip-on shoes.
“Oh good, here they are,” Bast said.
Quentin was relieved that a real ambulance crew had arrived for Rose.
“Play along with me, Quentin. Do not disagree with anything I say or this will not work.” Bast pushed her hair behind her ears before welcoming them. “This is, I am sure you have instantly recognised him, the greatest archaeologist Egypt has ever known.” There was nervousness, nods of agreement, and the obligatory shaking of hands.
Quentin’s feelings moved further towards positive, or they did before one of the men turned around to reveal a large blue Fitness Centre logo emblazoned across the back of his otherwise white jacket. “Fake medics, we have no hope!”
Bast saw the look on Quentin’s face, so she spoke before he could. “All under control,” she whispered into his ear. Turning to the Egyptians, she said, “Thank you for helping us today.” Bast received reassurances that they were only too pleased to help such a great man. “As you know from our chat earlier, we have a situation where the paparazzi have surrounded the hotel and western journalists would not understand what has happened here. It would destroy Quentin’s reputation in an instant. That is why your assistance is invaluable.”
Quentin was unsure as to what exactly was going on, but he kept quiet, as his feelings yet again changed. He now thought Bast knew what she was doing. At least he hoped she did!
“Is this what you wanted?” asked one of the men as he held out a hand.
“Perfect,” Bast said as she took hold of a bottle of whitener, which they used for their fabric gym shoes. She compared both of the Egyptian men. Each was roughly Quentin’s height and build. “Who wants to be Quentin?” They both did, so Bast chose one of them, only to receive looks of disappointment from the other. She painted a white band around the back of his neck and line behind each ear. She then stood him in a position where he was ready to push the stretcher and painted a wide white band around each wrist, just at the point where his jacket sleeves finished. From the look on her face Quentin could see that she was obviously very satisfied with her work. “You are just lovely as you are.” Bast said to the Egyptian lady. “Jackets and positions please.”
The pretend Quentin and the pretend Bast took off their jackets, turned them inside out and put them back on. They were now completely dressed in white. The man pushed and the lady pulled the stretcher down the corridor. The other Egyptian man had already gone ahead and pressed the call button for the lift.
Despite the seriousness of their situation Bast had to struggle to control a fit of the giggles. Quentin noticed and moved closer to ask quietly if all was okay. “Yes, it is going well. It’s just that we have a pretend Quentin and a pretend Bast pretending to be an ambulance crew.”
“Surely they are a pretend ambulance crew?”
“How many pretends do you want in one sentence?”
They were still sharing the light moment, in an otherwise distressing day, as the lift doors opened. Having all stepped in it proved to be a tight fit. Quentin remained at a loss as to how they were going to get out of the hotel. He looked over the stretcher to Bast and gave her a nod, in order to confirm his confidence in her.
After descending eleven floors the lift stopped at the shopping level. The Egyptian man, the one who was not pretending to be Quentin, got out. Bast thanked him for his help. She stressed that he should not act before he heard the siren of the ambulance as it sped from the hotel.
Bast and Quentin went down one stop before stepping out onto the mezzanine floor below. The fake ambulance crew left the lift on the floor below that. They pushed the stretcher through reception and out of the main entrance of the hotel. Peeking out from behind different pillars on the mezzanine, the wide expanse of glass across the front of the hotel made it really easy for Bast and Quentin to see the ambulance and its multitude of blue and red flashing lights. Real medics were already transferring Rose to a proper stretcher. Bast had counted six presumed ancients, Quentin had only noticed five.
“So, what is the plan?” Quentin asked as she joined him behind the same pillar.
“I was banking on the ancients being told that they could do nothing except watch until we were at least a street away from the hotel. That way their actions could not be picked up on the hotel cameras. It appears to be what they have been told, so that works for us. Can you see … those who followed the pretend us out are making sure the pretend us cannot come back in, yet they are keeping their distance.” Quentin could see this. “They are now fully occupied, so that is one group of ancients we do not have to worry about.”
“There will be others.”
“Yes, lots I expect.”
“That’s reassuring! Though, on the positive side, I thought putting white on the pretend me was a stroke of genius.” Quentin had a really white skin colour, so he saw immediately that Bast had put white on the pretend him to make it look as though he had found something to darken his skin with, though he had missed a few places. The ancients could not have failed to have noticed this. It would have convinced them that they were following the real Quentin in disguise. “But, on the negative side, we are still on the mezzanine and still inside the hotel.”
“Not for much longer. Follow me.” Keeping the pillar directly behind her, Bast walked quite nonchalantly across to a large sliding window on the Nile side of the hotel. Quentin followed almost footstep for footstep.
“Now what, do we jump?” he asked as he looked down to a major road below and the River Nile just beyond. “No, forget I said that … we cannot jump unless we want to end up as road kill, so what do we do?”
“You are almost correct, as the ancients must see us jump.”
Quentin looked at Bast in disbelief.
“No, we do not physically jum
p. We have already occupied many ancients at the front of the hotel, but all too soon they will realise that they have not caught us. Remember the man who left the lift on the floor above?” Quentin did. “Well, as we need to exit out the back, he will throw two mannequins out of the shop window, which is on that side of the hotel,” Bast pointed in the direction of the side wall of the hotel, “just as soon as he hears the ambulance speed away.”, “I am banking on this fooling the ancients into believing that it is us making our escape. Be ready, the ambulance will be leaving any second. Keep looking because once we see ancients run from this side of the hotel, we need to exit quickly down those steps, out of the back entrance, across the road and onto that.” Bast was now pointing across to a water-taxi. “Are you paying attention?”
Quentin now was. He had been trying to see where the steps down went to. They were wide and open. The Nile side entrance to the hotel had almost as much glass in it as the front. There was absolutely no cover of any kind. “I think it best if I follow you.”
“You will have to be quick. The road is our major problem because we are going to have to cross it. Do not be tempted to use the underpass, the tourist way to the Nile, because there is no way we will be able to get through there without coming face to face with ancients.”
The thought that there might be an underpass never crossed Quentin’s mind. So it was good that Bast told him, because it would have been very tempting to take the easy route, as that was one very busy road.
The siren of the ambulance cut through the air as it left the hotel. Nobody moved on the Nile side of the hotel. Bast worried that her plan had fallen apart. It seemed to take an age, but then there was movement. Eight people, mostly women, from several different locations along the Nile side path, started running.
“Run,” was all Bast said. She did not have to repeat herself. They were down the steps in a flash. Bast pushed a large glass door open with so much force that it swung back with more force than Quentin could hold. He made it through, but his momentum was such that he spun and crashed to the floor. Scrambling on all fours, he managed to continue to follow Bast. Soon he was up and running again. He was aware that he had taken the knee out of his trousers and that he was now limping, but he was not going to let that slow him down. After all, he was running for his life, and unlike his adopted son, he could run when the occasion called for it … and the occasion called for it right now!
Bast disappeared from sight as she crested the rise and crossed the road. Quentin stopped abruptly at the kerb. “How did she get over there so quickly?” he thought, as it was six lanes of nose to tail traffic travelling well in excess of the thirty kilometre speed limit. He looked back, half tempted to turn and take the underpass. The running group of ancient women, who appeared from the side of the hotel and looked straight at him before taking the underpass, convinced him otherwise.
Bast was gesticulating wildly for him to cross. Quentin was all too aware that if he did not get across before the ancient women, then he would stand no chance of making it to the water-taxi and safety. He stepped out several times only to have to dart back. He saw a gap and he took it. Now standing between lane one and two, he was not sure which he feared more, the traffic or the ancients. He thought of Rose, and that convinced him to make his move to the centre of the road.
It had taken Quentin far too long to cross. He watched as Bast became surrounded by the female ancients. She made no attempt to either run or change form. Nobody attempted to take hold of her, though he could see that a strong conversation was taking place. To passing Egyptians and tourists alike it was nothing more than a group of women standing and chatting. Onlookers probably thought that they were talking about the crazy tourist who was trying to cross the road. He had this thought confirmed when a heavily tattooed male tourist wearing an ‘I love Cairo’ T-shirt and matching baseball cap called out, “Hey mate, are you stupid or what. Use the underpass next time, you idiot!”
Quentin wondered what some people got out of being so rude. Two of the ancient women split from the group and the next second the tourist was flat on his face. Picking himself up from the ground, his nose was now bleeding just as profusely as that of Rose. His iPhone, which he had used to take several pictures of Quentin, was being crushed into the tarmac of the road as he watched on in disbelief.
Despite his own predicament, Quentin enjoyed watching the now speechless tourist. He even had a slight smile as he thought that with the resulting loss of his iPhone, in this case, free speech had been anything except free!
Chapter 17
-
Desert Disaster
To Alex it was as if Cairo had been moaning and groaning from his injuries, and also begging for water, for hours. Obviously it could not have been that long, but everything appeared to be happening in slow-motion. Despite being tied up and having a sack of some sort placed over him, he was feeling far better than at any time since the crash. Alex shook his head in an attempt to think more clearly. It just left him feeling dizzy.
He worked out that he must be lying in the shade of their buggy, basically, because he was not overheating, and there was nothing else that would offer shade. He had the feeling that the ancient in charge remained close beside him, though he could not be certain. Before he could work out anything else, he became aware of the sound of approaching feet. He listened as he lay motionless. The feet came to a halt quite near. The person they belonged to spoke, “No sign of the girl. We have looked everywhere.”
“You have, so obviously, not looked everywhere, or you would have found her,” was bellowed back in short bursts.
“Yep, I was right, ancient bully still right beside me,” Alex thought. The bully had more to say.
“I am so going to enjoy removing you and your family from the afterlife … NOW FIND HER!”
Alex wondered if it was the same person who had been shouted at before, because if it was, he should be happy that his family had now been promoted to being a ‘family’, rather than a ‘pathetic family’.
Despite crashing the buggy, being captured and tied up by ancients, killing Emmy and seriously injuring Cairo, all things considered, Alex was in fairly good spirits. He was annoyed with himself that he had aimed for the only gap in the ‘wall’, because that was so obviously the ideal place for any trap to be set. Not being used to driving, and the fact that he had had the buggy in the wrong automatic gear, he considered to be important mitigating factors. It was at this point that Alex became concerned for his own humanity. He should have been weeping, totally distraught, though he was anything but. He was not just in good spirits, he actually felt positive. Were his ancient memories taking him over? Was he becoming somebody he could not live with? He thought hard.
“Please, water?”
“For the last time, shut up, or I will finish you myself. Dead or alive I get paid the same, so the choice is yours.”
Alex realised that he was the major prize, he was the one who attracted the money. The bully had no intention of stepping away from his ‘prize’ in order to deal with Cairo.
“Water,” Cairo called out in such a pathetic voice. “Water, and I will show you where she is.”
Alex wanted to laugh at the pitiful sound of Cairo. He really wondered what was wrong with his feelings. His friend was in pain, and all he wanted to do was to celebrate their victory, yet where was the victory? How could he consider any of this a victory?
“Look, we have already been here for much longer than we should have been, so we have no water to spare, anyway, shouldn’t you be dead by now?”
Alex wondered if this ancient could ever speak without shouting.
“We have water,” Cairo said.
“No … you do not have water. My men have already drunk your water. They found your bottles strewn across the desert, yet they are incapable of finding a stupid girl!” He now bellowed even louder, “Search quicker, you morons.”
If Alex had not heard it with his own ears, he would have thought that t
he ancient’s ability to shout at even greater decibels, than he had previously been shouting, would have been a physical impossibility. He also considered that if they looked for an intelligent girl, they may have more luck, for Emmy was anything except stupid!
“I tell you where our water is and tell you where Emmy is, if you let me drink. You must let me drink.”
“Where’s your precious water then?”
“It in engine compartment.”
Alex now understood why he felt as he did. His subconscious had worked everything out, even if he could not before now. There was the self-evident sound of a congratulatory group of ancients who had found what they had been looking for.
“Looks like you will not be getting your water,” the ancient bellowed at Cairo before laughing. “We have the three of you, we have your water, and soon, very soon, I will be rich.” He welcomed the men back and had a few choice words for Emmy before slapping her hard around the face. “That is for making us stay out in this desert. Oh, I wish I could kill you right now for all the trouble you have been. Never mind, we have you now, so we will all get paid.” His band of ancient miscreants cheered. They obviously were not averse to the ill treatment of a defenceless woman. “Drink up, men. Right now it is only water, but tonight we will feast. All the food you can eat, all the wine you can drink, and all the women you could wish for–” He was interrupted by a mighty cheer. “Then you can go home to your wives.” No cheer interrupted him, because there was absolute silence. “You will all go home with money in your pockets.” Now there was a cheer.
Upon hearing the cheers Alex estimated that there were between ten and twenty ancients. The sound of pushing and shoving, along with spilt water, surrounded him. He wondered what effect the engine water would have on them. He did not have to wait long to find out, as one body after another hit the ground. “Sixteen thuds equals sixteen ancients, that was not a bad guess.”
Gold of the Ancients Page 12