Grains of Truth (24 page)

They shook hands. Although the man did look vaguely familiar, Mohamed found no recollection of their having met. But then, in his business, he met so many people. It was not unusual to forget a name or a face. They sat companionably for a while, enjoying the pipes and casual conversation. The welcome diversion relieved him from his unsettling thoughts. Eventually, the conversation turned to automobiles, a universal topic of interest to all Egyptian males.

“Hedayet is thinking to buy my car. It is a fine machine, a 1998 Saab,” said Hassan proudly. “Would you like to see? I am parked around the corner.”

Mohamed agreed willingly, leaving a few notes on the table, and followed his new acquaintance. He led the way around the corner and down a narrow street, keeping up a constant stream of chatter on the wonders of his fine car. The typical backstreet had vehicles lined up on the curb and cats lounging in the dirt.

A dust-covered van parked close to the wall forced them to walk single file in order to pass. The man calling himself Hassan motioned for Mohamed to walk ahead. When a side door of the van sprang open, the man gave him a hard push from behind. Mohamed fell sideways onto a pile of scratchy blankets as a smelly wool sack was thrust over his head. 

“Shut up and be still,” rasped a second voice of pure menace, “if you wish to live.” He jerked Mohamed’s hands behind his back and bound them roughly with a worn, dirty piece of rope.

Chapter 28

Julia tossed clothes into the open suitcase on the bed while she tried to sort out her muddled feelings. It was almost impossible to separate the many and wildly divergent thoughts that darted through her mind like maniacal sparrows. At least everyone involved in this nightmare agreed on one thing: They would do whatever necessary to stop the terrorists from the unthinkable horrors planned for the people of Jerusalem. 

There was ostensibly nothing more she could contribute to prevent the taking of the nuclear facility. Responsibility for that fell to the governments. On the other hand, despite Bob’s words of dismissal, she knew—to the core of her being—that she would do anything she could to prevent the chemicals from making it across the Egyptian border.

Alexander wouldn’t like it. Mohamed definitely wouldn’t like it. Regardless, when Brad made contact later today she resolved to make her determination to help fully understood. 

Mohamed’s involvement presented another dilemma altogether. He was at much greater risk than the two Americans. He lived in this country; there would be no escape for him if the militants learned of his complicity. The Egyptian government wouldn’t much care for it either. He could so easily simply disappear one day, never to be seen or heard from again. His fate might never be known. Julia shivered at the thought.

She’d touched briefly on this while filling Alex in this morning but, what with all of the information to impart, perhaps she hadn’t fully conveyed the strength of her feelings on the subject. She planned to correct that at the first opportunity.

It was imperative that he understand and apply whatever influence he might have to help get Mohamed out of all this safely, without repercussions. Brad said he would take care of it. Common sense told Julia, with more pressing things to think about at the moment, Mohamed’s safety might slip his mind. Nor could she trust that he would be in a position to honor his word. 

She felt a surprising awareness of a budding feeling of solidarity, and trust, in Alexander. In spite of the fact that he came from a world she’d always regarded as reprehensible, he now represented safety—protection. She found herself yearning to lean on the strength of it.

And there was something else.

Basic, raw, masculine appeal radiated from him like a beacon of light on a stormy night at sea. Each time they met, she felt more drawn to him. A sexual tension crackled between them. Mohamed felt it, too. She could tell. It amazed her that she could be attracted to two such different men. Compounding that anomaly was the fact that neither man would have even come close to passing her famous litmus test for husband material. Sarah would never let her forget this.

If Julia survived to tell her about it. 

Berating herself in disgust for indulging these frivolous thoughts while other issues of such paramount importance loomed, she went to the bathroom and began throwing cosmetics into a bag. After scanning the room for anything overlooked, she checked her watch to find the time half past eleven. Her scanty breakfast left her stomach rumbling, so she decided to run down to the lunch buffet. 

As she passed the reception area she noticed Peter the Bookworm exiting the boat, shouldering a heavy carry-on bag. One of the stewards followed behind with two oversized suitcases. Well, so much for the idea of him as her guardian agent, she thought despondently—unless he turns up at the hotel.

Ali greeted her as she entered the dining room with his usual cheerful expression and she reminded herself to give him an extra tip. She’d already left generous gratuities for the rest of the crew. The Langleys sat at a table nearby and Henrietta waved her over.

“Well, Julia, you must’ve been up with the roosters this morning. We rang to see if you wanted to accompany us to visit the gardens on Kitchener’s Island, but you’d already flown the coop.”

Julia sank into a chair next to the kindly, reassuring presence of the elderly woman. “Yes, I had to make a call to the States.” Going on quickly to prevent any questions, she added, “I’m sorry that today will be our last on the boat together. It has truly been a pleasure to meet you both and share Egypt with you.” She reached over and squeezed the frail hand resting on the table. Henrietta returned the gesture with surprising strength.

“We, too, have enjoyed your company immensely, my dear. It’s a shame we can’t spend more time together. But I do have some exciting news.” She looked affectionately at her devoted spouse of over fifty years. “As I’ve fallen madly in love with Aswan, Henry presented me with a lovely gift this morning. We’ll be extending our trip to stay here for a while.”

Pleased for her new friend’s obvious delight, Julia smiled and gave her hand another squeeze. “That’s wonderful. Where will you stay?”

“Henry pulled out all the stops and booked us into the Old Cataract. It will be like a second honeymoon.” She blushed like a young bride.

A faint bell tinkled in Julia’s subconscious. “But that’s amazing. I’ve decided to stay here for a few more days as well. Mohamed has agreed to stay on as my guide and we’ll also be at the Old Cataract.”

“Excellent! He’s such a charming young man, and always so interesting to talk to. Perhaps the four of us could have dinner this evening. We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Henry?”

Was this too coincidental? Of course not, Julia admonished herself. How could she possibly doubt the genuineness of this gentle pair? She was becoming paranoid.

~

Alexander left the hotel and returned to the boat to efficiently pack his belongings. His hand hesitated over the phone, uncharacteristically undecided about his next move. Should he check in with Julia to make sure she was all right?

What in the world was the matter with him?

He was behaving like an adolescent. Dialing her cabin, he listened impatiently as the phone continued to ring without answer. Annoyed, he noted the time: twenty past one. They must’ve already left the boat for the hotel. 

The London call had taken an irksomely long time to go through and then he’d grabbed a quick lunch at the Old Cataract. He picked up the phone again and rang for a steward to collect his luggage. He could have easily managed it himself, but passengers were expected to allow the staff to perform every possible service. The obligatory gratuity doubtless represented a large portion of their income. Alex didn’t begrudge them an honest living, although he found the custom bothersome at times. 

While he waited he looked out at the river through the open window, analyzing the conversation with James. A sharp knock interrupted his dismal thoughts. Assuming it to be the steward, he opened the door with suitcase in hand—only to be confronted by Julia, panic written unmistakably across her pale, expressive face.

“May I come in?” The faint words were almost unintelligible.

He wordlessly reached for her arm and pulled her in before poking his head back out the door. Just coming around the corner, the steward smiled. Alex stepped out into the corridor with his bag and handed it over, ensuring that Julia wasn’t seen. With bag dispatched along with instructions to hold it at the reception desk, he closed and locked the door.

She stood looking out the window in the same spot he’d been only a moment before. At the sound of the lock, she whirled around to face him. “Mohamed has disappeared.”  

He swiftly crossed the cabin to grab her hands and pull her down next to him on the couch. “Tell me exactly what happened—from when you left the hotel.”

With a monumental effort to suppress the sick feeling of fear that crawled up her throat, she said, “We came straight back to the boat. He didn’t come aboard though, said he was going for a water pipe. He was upset. And understandably angry. He said he’d be back to leave for the hotel by noon.” Tears sprang into her eyes as she took a ragged breath.

“Is he usually punctual?

“Yes. Unless he’s prevented. And then he calls. Always.”

“Stay here.” Alex went to the bathroom and returned with tissues for the tears that escaped her brimming eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She accepted them gratefully, blotting her face, then rose to pace the cabin. 

“They have him, don’t they?”

Their eyes locked across the room. The possibility pulsed between them like a live wire. He didn’t need to say anything. She knew the answer. She closed her eyes, reeling from shock and shame. As his arms closed around her, she began to cry.

He felt the inconsolable sorrow that emanated from the woman as he held her tight against the pounding of his heart. Over the top of her head, through the wide window, he watched the perennial, swift flow of the River Nile, remembering James’s last question that morning.

What about this guide? This Mohamed? Can he be trusted?

~

The sack reeked of livestock. Probably made from a camel or donkey blanket, the scratchy fabric had clearly never known contact with soap and water. Mohamed was led through a low doorway, where he bumped his head painfully on the frame. A steely grip guided him to a bench against a rough wall. The raspy voice ordered him to sit.

They’d driven in the van for what seemed like hours before arriving at this destination. He had no idea where they might be. His thoughts gyrated between trying to pick up clues about his captors and prayers to Allah. After a while, he became aware that all movement in the room had ceased. Thinking himself alone, he started to get up.

“Sit,” came the harsh command from nearby. He sat.

After an interminable passage of time, he heard the squeak of a door and felt, rather than saw, sunlight shoot into the room. Several pairs of feet shuffled in, but still no one spoke. The sound of a chair being dragged across a dirt floor preceded a pleasant voice with a perfect upper-class English drawl.

“Welcome, Mr. Zahar. We appreciate your taking the time to meet with us.”

Another man’s snigger ceased as quickly as it began, no doubt silenced by the displeasure of the man-in-charge. 

“Please pardon us for not removing the hood. As uncomfortable as it may be, it is much healthier for you in the long run. It would be most unfortunate if you were to see our faces.” The cultured voice paused, giving his next words a theatrical effect.

“For we would then be forced to slit your throat.”

~

Despite the gentle breeze sweeping across the water, a merciless sun made the afternoon uncomfortably warm. Julia and Alexander leaned against the rail on the deck in what, under other circumstances, might be called a companionable silence. Following her descent into despair, they calmly discussed their options. Julia, at length, agreed to wait at least another hour before taking any action, and returned to her cabin in a vain attempt to repair the ravages left by her breakdown.

When she emerged on deck, large dark glasses covered her still-puffy red eyes. No one would notice as long as she didn’t have to socialize.

“Alex! Oh, Alex, darling!” came the dreaded shrill cry. “The Fiona,” as Mohamed dubbed her, approached at an alarming pace. A low growl rumbled in Julia’s throat.

“Stay here. I’ll get rid of her.” Alex Darling stepped swiftly away to cut off the assault. With protestations of friendship, affection and the extraction of a pledge to call when he returned to London, he managed to maneuver the supercilious, clinging creature to the top of the stairs.

She had one foot on the top step when she remembered to call out, “So long, Julia. Say goodbye to Mohamed for me.”

Julia planned to do that very shortly.

She froze in the blazing sun as she caught sight of Mohamed striding up the gangway. Back at her side, Alexander turned to look in the direction of her fixed stare.

He touched her arm and said with urgency, “Take a taxi to the hotel. Both of you. Call my room in an hour.”

His words released her from the trance that locked her clenched hands to the rail. She nodded mutely as she returned the reassuring touch, grateful for his understanding, before rushing to the stairs.