She groaned. ‘How long have you known?’
He smiled. ‘Three days.’
‘You’ve been onto me the entire time?’
‘Yep. You and your muscular friend. Is he your bodyguard?’
‘Of course not! He’s, um, an associate.’
‘Is that a fancy word for boyfriend?’
‘No!’ she said. ‘He’s not my boyfriend. He’s—’
Simon shook his head. ‘Not here.’
She glanced around the room. ‘Are you saying we aren’t safe?’
‘I’m saying a lot has changed since your last visit. You may not want to be seen with me in public.’
Sarah smiled. ‘Oh, now I get it. You have a girlfriend.’
‘No,’ he said, blushing slightly, ‘it’s not that.’
She furrowed her brow. ‘A wife?’
‘Definitely not!’
‘Then what?’
Before he had a chance to explain, a black sedan screeched to a halt in front of the bar. Two large men jumped from the car and stormed toward the front door. It was pretty obvious that they weren’t there to drink.
Simon saw them through the window and cursed. Then he grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the rear exit. There was no time to explain his situation; not if they wanted to live. ‘Like I said, a lot has changed. We gotta go… now!’
The thugs ran through the front door as Sarah and Simon fled out the back.
‘There!’ the first thug shouted in Arabic as he pointed toward their escape. The men gave chase, knocking over tables and chairs as they thundered through the saloon like a herd of buffalo.
Clearly frightened, Simon burst through the rear exit of the bar and sprinted down an alley that reeked of cat piss and garbage. Sarah matched him stride for stride.
‘Where are we going?’ she yelled.
‘Just keep running,’ he shouted.
The exit door flew open behind them as the first thug slammed into it. He was a bear of a man, with muscular arms and fists the size of melons. Remarkably, the second goon was even bigger, as if he had been fed steaks and steroids from the time of his hatching — because there was no way in hell anyone had given birth to him.
He was simply too damn big.
Simon reached the end of the alley and broke sharply to the right, down the busy street. Sarah followed suit, glancing over her shoulder to check out the thugs, who were blessed with less speed than size. Unfortunately, her joy was short-lived. Even on a dead run, she spotted something troubling: the black sedan from the bar was weaving through traffic and heading toward them at a high rate of speed.
‘Shit!’ she screamed as she struggled to grab her gun. It was tucked in her belt underneath her shirt. ‘We have company!’
‘More?’ Simon wasn’t happy with the news. He glanced back and saw the car. It was closing fast. ‘Run faster, Sarah!’
‘Screw you, Simon!’
At that moment, she was tempted to ditch Simon and cut her losses. After all, they were chasing him, not her, and the last thing she needed was to get entangled in someone else’s mess. But a split second before she bailed, she heard the blare of a horn followed by a familiar voice.
‘Sarah,’ Cobb shouted, ‘get in the damn car!’
She turned to see Cobb staring back at her from the driver’s seat of the black sedan. The thugs had abandoned it in front of the bar, no more than twenty feet from Cobb’s position across the street. With the keys inside and the motor running, stealing the car required less effort than hailing a cab.
Plus, there was no need to leave a tip.
Cobb slowed down just enough for her to open the rear passenger door. This time, it was Sarah who grabbed Simon by the arm. Diving into the back, she pulled him inside the car and on top of her. He reached back and pulled the door shut.
Meanwhile, Cobb casually checked the side mirror. He saw the goons emerge from the alley and scan the street for their prey.
They did not look happy.
‘You’re good,’ said Cobb as the second thug punched a wall in anger. It didn’t seem to faze him in the least. ‘But stay low for another minute.’
Sarah nodded as she struggled to catch her breath.
Cobb remained quiet until he stopped at a red light several blocks away. Only then did he lean back and glance at the duo sprawled on the floor. ‘Hey, Sarah?’
‘Yeah, Jack.’
Cobb glared at her. ‘Who’s your friend?’
10
Cobb drove in awkward silence to the far side of town where he found a rough neighborhood to ditch the car. Until he knew more, the location satisfied his two most pressing concerns: it was far from the iron-fisted thugs, and it was nowhere near the hotel where he and Sarah were staying.
Before making his exit, he wiped the steering wheel and door handles clean of any fingerprints. Then he left the keys in the ignition and calmly walked away.
‘Keep moving,’ he told the others.
Stealing the car wasn’t something Cobb had planned, but rather a necessary evil born of the situation. Now the best thing that could happen would be for someone else to notice the keys in the unlocked car and take it on a joyride of his own. The more distance he could get between themselves and a stolen vehicle, the better.
‘Name’s Simon, by the way.’ He thrust his hand toward Cobb as they strolled toward a main road. ‘Thanks for the help back there.’
‘Sure,’ Cobb said with a furtive glance.
Despite their time in the car, this was his first chance to size up the new addition. He was lean and wiry, a few inches shorter than Cobb and at least five years younger. His hair was closely cropped, and stubble covered his face. His look appeared to be one of convenience more than personal style. Nothing about him stood out. Not his size. Not his features. Not his attire. It was as if he had made every effort to blend in.
Knowing little else about him, Cobb turned to Sarah.
‘Jack, this is Simon Dade,’ she said. ‘Simon, this is Jack—’
Cobb cut her off. ‘Jack is good enough for now.’
Sarah understood Cobb’s hesitation. He didn’t know Dade, and until he did their relationship would remain casual, so first names were just fine with him.
She continued her explanation, hoping to allay some of Cobb’s concerns. ‘Jack, Simon is a CIA asset. He’s what they call a “tour guide”.’
‘An asset, not an agent?’
‘That’s correct.’
‘And what does a CIA tour guide do?’ Cobb asked.
‘Pretty much the same thing as an actual tour guide,’ she replied, ‘only he knows everything about the places that you’d want to avoid on vacation.’
Dade nodded. ‘It’s my job to know the city inside and out. Who’s responsible for what, and where, and how? Think of me as your local “big brother”. I can give you intel on every corner of Alexandria.’
Cobb glanced at him. ‘Does that mean you have surveillance capabilities?’
Dade grinned. ‘I might have access to a camera or two, sure. What are you trying to find out?’
‘Nothing yet. I just want to know your limits.’
‘Honestly? I’m not a very good cook. Other than that, I don’t have many.’
Cobb considered the comment. This early on, he wasn’t sure if he liked Dade’s cockiness or hated it. ‘When did you spot us?’
‘The airport,’ he answered.
‘Bullshit,’ Sarah said. ‘No way you spotted us that early.’
‘Wanna bet?’ Dade pulled his phone from his pocket and found what he was looking for. He showed the picture to Sarah. ‘You’re very photogenic.’
The image showed Cobb and Sarah exiting their private plane from Florida. Chartered by Papineau under the name of a dummy corporation that was buried under four layers of paperwork, the private plane had delivered them to the Cairo International Airport, nearly three hours from their final destination.