by Tom Hunter
“Please, call me Shafira.” She smiled warmly at the boy, who could barely bring himself to look her in the eye. “I know that we’re not supposed to send mail room staff on personal errands, but I was wondering whether you could do me a favor?”
“I don’t know.” Hosein shuffled about uncomfortably. “Mom would kill me if I lost this job.”
“It’s nothing that will get you into trouble. I promise,” Shafira reassured him. “It’s just that I need to get these documents back to my cubicle and I’ve realized that I’m late for a meeting on the other side of the building. It would look very unprofessional if I showed up with armfuls of paperwork, so it would really help me out if you could take them back to my desk for me.”
“I guess it’s not too different to delivering the mail,” Hosein conceded. “Put them on my cart and I’ll drop them off for you.”
“Thanks, Hosein. You’re a lifesaver!”
Pulling out a file at random, pretending that she’d need it for her ‘meeting,’ Shafira gave the rest of her paperwork to Hosein. The mailman trundled his trolley down the corridor as Shafira headed out towards the entrance to the building where the Director had gone. Punching out, she told herself that all those hours of overtime were going to come in handy when her pay was docked for leaving early.
Approaching the reception area, she heard Director Haisam say goodbye to Tarek, the security guard on duty, so she pressed herself up against the wall round the corner, counting to five to give the Director a chance to get ahead so he wouldn’t see her following him.
“You’re leaving early,” remarked Tarek when Shafira finally emerged from her hiding place. “It’s not like you to be out in the hours of daylight, let alone go home early. I was beginning to think that you were a vampire!”
“The Director forgot an important document,” Shafira lied, waving the file in her hand at the guard. “I need to get it to him before he takes off.”
“He’s only just left,” Tarek pointed through the doors. “If you hurry, you should catch him before he gets into his car.”
“Thanks.” Shafira rushed through the revolving door, but slowed down again as she exited the Ministry, not wanting to actually catch up with the Director if he was waiting outside. However, instead of hailing a cab as usual, she saw the Director walking away from the Ministry.
Keeping her distance, Shafira followed him as he turned onto the sidewalk leading toward downtown Cairo. As she watched, a black car with dark tinted windows pulled up alongside him. The driver got out to open the door for the Director, who got into the back of the unmarked vehicle.
“How strange,” she murmured to herself. It wasn’t a cab from the Ministry’s preferred company.
The car pulled away. Shafira was no closer to finding out what had really happened in the park. Using private transport to drive you to the airport was hardly a crime. Impulsively, she put out her arm, hailing a cab that was approaching.
“The man in that black vehicle is my boss,” she told the driver. “But he’s forgotten an important document.” She showed him the file in her hand. “If I don’t get this to him before he gets to his meeting, I’ll lose my job. Is there any chance you could follow that car?”
“No problem.” The driver turned on the meter and Shafira climbed into the back as he pulled out into traffic after the black car. “I’ve always wanted to have someone tell me to follow that car. It’s just like being in the movies!”
He prattled on about explosive car chases from his favorite films, seeming not to care that Shafira wasn’t saying anything as she gazed anxiously at the black car up ahead. Who was driving? She couldn’t see any detail through the dark glass, but she could have sworn that the man who had opened the door for the Director was of similar build to the man who’d attacked her boss the night before. It made no sense.
Still, it was the middle of the day and she was surrounded by people. She might have been vulnerable in the park, but she couldn’t possibly be in any danger in broad daylight.
As they took the freeway ramp, it soon became clear that they were going to the airport, just as the Director said he was. However, although her driver had made good time in keeping up with Haisam’s vehicle, as they approached the waiting area, traffic ground to a stop. Shafira caught a glimpse of the Director striding into the airport.
“I’m so sorry, miss,” her driver apologized, as he pulled up to the terminal. “It’s not usually this bad at this time of day. I hope you can still catch up with your boss.”
“It’s not a problem,” she reassured him, throwing money through the window at him without waiting for a receipt. At least the Director wouldn’t have been able to spot her chasing him.
Running into the airport lobby, at first, there was no sign of Haisam. Biting her lip and looking around nervously, she finally caught sight of him just as he disappeared through a door marked ‘Private Flights Only.’
Hurrying after him, she was about to push through the door, when a large man stepped out to block her way.
“Ticket?” asked the guard.
“Oh.” Shafira patted herself over before treating him to her most charming smile. “I’m so sorry. I appear to have misplaced it. If you could just let me go through, I’m sure the staff on the other side can sort something out for me.”
“If you haven’t got a ticket, you’re not going through that door.” The guard folded his arms and glared at her.
“But it’s an emergency,” Shafira begged. “I’m supposed to be visiting my dying grandmother. If I don’t catch my flight, I may never see her again.”
“If you cared that much about her, you wouldn’t have lost your ticket, would you?”
Realizing she was wasting her time pleading with the guard, Shafira turned and pulled out her cell to call the police. She tapped the first digit, then changed her mind and put her phone away. If she rang them without any proof of wrongdoing, they really would charge her with perjury this time. The Director had got away, at least for now. What if he’d been corrupted by the Bruard, which is why he was so keen to get details of her more unusual cases? Had she been tricked into feeding information to the enemy by the one man she was supposed to be able to trust?
“I have to warn Samuel McCarthy!” she gasped, turning and running back towards the cab stand, praying that she’d be able to reach him on the radio before Director Haisam arrived at the dig site.
Twenty-Six
Pin strode through the airport, Gord by his side carrying a small suitcase.
“Director Haisam,” beamed a security guard, as Gord put the case on the scanner. “Always a pleasure to have you fly with us. Going anywhere nice?”
“Just another site inspection,” replied Pin, as Gord went to collect the suitcase from the other side. “Business with very little pleasure, I’m afraid.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, sir. Have a good flight.” The guard saluted before handing the case back to Gord.
Pin and Gord headed out to the section of the airport reserved for private planes. Their Cessna VTOL was waiting for them, a small mobile stairway pushed up against the side. As they approached, a small group of people crossed the asphalt to meet them, a motley crew dressed in the typical casual, practical garb of archaeologists. Anyone looking closer would notice that these were no ordinary researchers, however. Suspicious bulges under jackets hinted at the presence of firearms, while a woman pulled a lethal knife out of a hidden holster, inspecting the blade before securing it out of sight again.
Gord stepped back to allow Pin to board the plane first, before he and the rest of the team followed their leader. The pilot was already seated, making his final few checks in preparation for takeoff. Hearing his passengers arrived, he turned round and nodded a greeting.
“Welcome aboard, everyone,” he smiled. “My name is Captain Ali. Flying conditions are excellent, so we should reach our destination with no drama.” He muttered the last sentence under his breath.
Pin’s smile faded a
little as Gord glared at him, the rest of the team ignoring his welcome as they took their seats in silence.
“All right then.” He cleared his throat nervously, as Gord closed the plane door, twisting the security handle firmly closed. “If you could all fasten your seatbelts and prepare for takeoff, we’ll be in the air in next to no time.”
The pilot finished his preflight checks, before radioing in to control that they were ready to leave. Taxiing out onto the landing strip, he called back to his passengers, “Keep your seatbelts securely fastened until I instruct you otherwise. You’ll be able to move about the plane once we’re airborne, but until we’re steady, stay in place for your safety.”
Pin gazed disinterestedly out of the window, watching as the airport buildings receded into the background. With a roar of engine thrust, the craft leapt vertically into the air.
“You are now free to unbuckle your seatbelts,” Captain Ali announced, a minute later, as the VTOL began to build up some forward speed. Pin unclipped his seatbelt, moving forward into the cockpit to sit in the co-pilot’s seat.
“I couldn’t help but notice that our destination is rather out of the way,” the pilot said, as he nodded respectfully by way of a greeting. “Has the Ministry discovered a new tomb? Or ancient palace? I must admit to having more than a passing interest in archaeology. You have no idea how excited I was when I was assigned this flight.”
“You will be even more excited when you know what we are looking for then,” Pin told him. “Would you like to hear all about it?”
“Would I?” The pilot grinned. “You just wait until I tell my wife that I flew an important Ministry official. She won’t believe it! She says that it’s not fair that I have all the luck when it comes to clients. She keeps warning me that all the other pilots will get jealous. I can’t wait to see their faces when I tell them about your mission.”
Pin stifled a yawn as the pilot babbled on. It was always so tedious dealing with civilians. They were impressed by the most pathetic of things. If ‘the Director’ hadn’t needed a pilot to fly him to the site, Pin would have just taken control of the flight from the start.
“As you’ve so cleverly surmised,” he said when he could finally get a word in, “we are indeed on our way out to a dig site, but this one is no ordinary excavation. Archaeologists have unearthed a cave system concealing ancient ruins.”
“A cave?” The pilot frowned. “I didn’t think there were any caves out in that region and I’ve flown over it so many times I’ve lost count.”
“This cave has been hidden from view by a very sophisticated camouflage technology,” Pin explained. “If it was not for the persistence of one Samuel McCarthy, it may have remained hidden for who knows how long?”
“Samuel McCarthy!” exclaimed the pilot. “I’m a huge fan of his. I’m not surprised that he’s behind this discovery. If anyone can find hidden treasure, it’s him. But wait a minute–you mentioned sophisticated technology. Surely that means that this can’t be an ancient ruin?”
“You would be surprised,” Pin told him. “Ancient civilizations had access to untold wisdom. We are still nowhere near to recovering all the knowledge that was held in the Royal Library of Alexandria and that was but one library and a famous one at that. We have barely scratched the surface of the hidden numinous knowledge of our ancestors. Of course, there is the possibility that there is nothing ancient about this site and it’s merely a smuggler’s den, in which case we will ensure that the miscreants are brought to justice. However, I have a feeling that this is no smuggler’s lair. I think that we are about to unearth something that far exceeds anything our current understanding could conceive of. If I am right, then it is essential that I secure it for my superiors in the Bruard before McCarthy takes it to the Ministry.”
“The Bru-“
The pilot didn’t get the chance to finish his cry, as Pin expertly stabbed him in the back of the neck with a small blade he’d concealed in his hand. Taking out a handkerchief to wipe the blood from his hands, Pin sneered with distaste at the sensation of the warm fluid sullying his flesh. He would have to fully purify himself later to rid himself of the taint of the unclean. The pilot’s head lolled to the side, his eyes wide with terror, as his spinal cord was severed. The rising and falling of his chest ceased.
“Gord!” Pin snapped. His henchman hurried forward to pull the pilot out of his seat, dragging him to the back of the plane where he could more easily dispose of the body, while Pin moved to the pilot’s position.
Taking hold of the controls, Pin called over his shoulder. “Has the weapons drop arrived at the first stop?”
“Yes, sir,” came the reply. “It’s all ready and waiting. All we need to do is retrieve it.”
“Excellent,” nodded Pin. “With any luck, we can finish our mission while this identity is still of value. Unfortunately, you screwed up. It’s only a matter of time before my cover is entirely blown, so I want to make as much use out of the Director as possible while I still can.”
“What do you mean?” Gord lumbered up to take the co-pilot’s seat next to his superior. “I did everything you told me to.”
“Yes,” sighed Pin. “I suppose it’s my fault not to give you explicit instruction to ensure that there were no witnesses when you disposed of Haisam. I should have known that I couldn’t trust you to use your initiative.”
“It was the middle of the night,” Gord protested. “No one was around. There’s no way I was seen.”
“And yet it would appear that Shafira Khouri knows, or at least suspects, that her beloved boss isn’t who he seems. I had a visit from the police thanks to your incompetence. Fortunately for me, Haisam was on good terms with the chief, so I was able to persuade him that Ms. Khouri was mistaken, but she’s not the kind of person to know when to leave well alone, which is why I’ve arranged a little surprise for her when she goes home this evening. I believe suffering, at least, is something you get.”
Gord nodded, his face alight with satisfaction. “Yes, boss, it is.”
Twenty-Seven
Shafira raced to her cubicle and started rifling through the files that Hosein had placed on her desk for her. “Come on, come on, where are you?” she muttered as she frantically pawed through the paperwork in search of the file on McCarthy’s dig site.
Finally finding the right file, she plopped down in her chair, as she jotted down the coordinates of the dig site on a notepad. Pressing the space key a few times to bring her computer out of sleep mode, she typed in her password and pulled up the encrypted email interface that allowed her secure wireless communication with the field. If the Director was in the air, it wouldn’t be long before he reached the site and McCarthy and his men could all be in danger. She had to get word through before he touched down.
As the program opened, an error message flashed up on the screen.
“Outgoing communications unavailable at this time. Please check your internet connection and try again.”
“Are you kidding me?” she cursed, as grumbles and complaints started to rise from surrounding cubicles.
“Who switched off the internet?” she heard Malik cry. “When are they going to sort out the computers in this place?”
“Afternoon off for everyone!” whooped Faroukh, as Shafira went back to the hard copy file. Scanning through the documents, she searched in vain for a telephone number, but all she could find was the general helpline for the Ministry, which would only put her through to someone else in the building. With the internet down, they wouldn’t be any more successful in contacting the site.
Shafira tapped a finger against her computer keyboard as she considered her options. Although it was possible that there would be more contact details held in the staff records, Shafira would need to go through someone in HR to obtain them and there was no one there she could trust. What if they’d been subverted to help whoever the Director was working for?
There was no other choice. She was going to have to go old schoo
l and see if she could find something useful hiding in the paperwork.
Going to her filing cabinet, she searched for the file that contained the personnel details for the project. Making her way down the list, most of the names were unfamiliar, but Shafira was flooded with hope when she saw a name she recognized. “Josh Bradley!” she gasped. Of course he’d be the preferred helicopter pilot for this project. He was the best in the business!
Gathering up the McCarthy files, Shafira prayed that Josh was home and not still on site.
Living within walking distance of the Ministry had its benefits, but today, Shafira cursed every step it took to get home, and hence to her car. As she walked past the sign for the park, she couldn’t help but shudder as she remembered what she’d witnessed there. She was going to get justice, no matter what it took.
The memory of almost being splattered with Haisam’s blood made her guts twist, and she picked up the pace. Although the killer would be long gone by now, she couldn’t shake the feeling of a foul presence, a lengthening shadow of evil over that place.
As she stepped between two cars to cross the road towards where her trusty Nissan was parked, she caught a glimpse of movement behind her in the rearview mirror of the vehicle she was standing behind. Hurrying across the road, she heard footsteps coming up behind her.
Not caring whether she looked stupid, Shafira broke into a run, racing towards her car, and thanking the heavens that she was wearing flat shoes. The footsteps behind her picked up the pace as whoever it was ran after her, confirming that she was being pursued and it wasn’t an innocent pedestrian. Fear gave her wings and she ran faster than she ever had in her life, seeing the familiar blue of her Nissan up ahead. Running so fast that she almost ran into the door, Shafira reached into her bag, yanking out her keys and rifling through them to find the one for her car.