"Oh don't be childish Chief. I don't have time for silly business. I need to find my father."
He chuckled as Alex turned and hurried out the hut; grateful that Sam couldn't understand a word of their Swahili conversation. If only she could be sure he didn’t see her blush. He’d be bound to put two and two together.
The dirt road from the village into Dar es Salaam was a bumpy and torturously slow one. The heavy torrential storms from the night before dug massive potholes and puddles of muddy water everywhere. Debris of broken branches lay scattered across the road, making it harder to navigate around.
"If you grip me any tighter Alex, I might have to stop the motorcycle."
Alex ignored Sam’s flirtatious comment although the prospect of his intention sent a flurry of emotions through her insides.
"You're driving like a maniac, Quinn. How else am I supposed to stay on?”
Or did he? Could the Chief be right? Was there something brewing between them without her even realizing it? She liked him more than she thought possible. He was extremely caring and he shared the same adventurous spirit. She couldn’t deny that there was something magical happening between them. But the thought scared her more than it enticed her. Her life was not one to be shared with anyone. Once she was back home and everything was over, she’d retrieve into her apartment and carry on with her research. That’s all she wanted. It was best that way. And for the immediate moment, there was too much on her plate to waste time on such nonsense.
"How much further?" She yelled across to the armed guide on the piki-piki in front of them. The Chief didn't want to risk anything and insisted one of his men accompanied them. Guns and all.
"Not far, almost there Miss Lakicia."
"Why do they keep calling you Lakicia?" Sam asked.
"It's a name Jelani gave me when I was little."
"What does it mean?"
"It means she who is favored among people."
"Were you?"
"Was I what?"
"Everyone's favorite?"
"Watch where you're going, Quinn. You're going to get us both killed before we even hit the city."
She chose not to answer him. If she let him into her world even further, she might never get him out, and as it stood, he already cracked her shell more than she wanted. No, this venture was nothing but a rescue mission. Nothing more.
Saved by the guide’s announcement that they had reached the outskirts of the city, Alex spotted some outlying buildings up ahead and they pulled over to the side of the road.
"Here I stop. You go alone,” the guide informed them and handed each of them a gun before driving back to the village.
Alex had never held a gun before much less had ever needed to use one but, under the circumstances, she agreed it was necessary. Her parents had one but they never had need for it either.
"It isn't an egg Alex. Here, let me show you. Hold it like this. Always pointing to the ground and away from people. See this? This pin is the safety. Now it's on, and now it's off. Keep it on for now; the safety that is, okay? We don't want you to fire at anything accidentally."
"Where did you learn all this?" Surprised by how comfortable Sam was with a weapon.
“Let’s just say my old man is a bit of a gun enthusiast. He took me shooting clay pigeons when I was little. We used to visit the local shooting range quite often. It was his way of preparing for the world coming to an end so he needed to make sure we could defend ourselves.”
Alex bit her bottom lip. She didn’t like guns or violence. It made her nervous and meant trouble.
"Alex, you'll be fine. I got you, remember? It might be a good idea if we shot one or two practice rounds; so you can get the feel of it, yes?"
"Oh no, I don't think that is such a great idea. No-no, we are never going to need it anyway. Let's just go."
Alex wiped the tear that threatened to run down her face as she recalled the last time she had to handle a gun.
"Everything will be fine Alex. I promise you. We are going to find your father and all go home safely. Trust me. We’ll do this together every step of the way.“
"I'm scared, Quinn. What if my father is dead?"
"Alex look at me. He's not, okay? I’ve studied your parents from the moment I learned to read. I know just about everything there is to know about them. Your father is one helluva tough guy with a lot of knowledge and street smarts. He knows how to get himself out of tight spots. Like when they were in China, and the government threatened to cease their dig. He wouldn't have made National Geographic if he wasn't something to write about, Alex. If you don't want to use the gun, then that's okay too. We'll take it easy. Deal?”
He did it again — Calmed her down and kept her from losing control of the situation. She had no idea how he managed to do it or even why she always felt safe around him. She believed every word he said.
"Put your gun here, in the back of your pants under your shirt, like this."
His hand on the small of her back gave her more assurance that Sam Quinn had her back; literally and figuratively. And she liked it that way. But her head still ruled her heart and defenses built around it.
"Thanks, I got it, Quinn. Now, let's go. I'll drive."
"You're the boss,” taunting her with a sideways smile.
The familiar road to the safe house was one her father made a point of them memorizing; even at night. As a child, she never quite figured out why he insisted they remember the way. He made her mother and her walk there from all the different routes into the city. But as Alex and Sam approached the location, she understood why. She was too young to grasp it back then but it was now obvious her parents were faced with dangerous situations then already. There was no question about it. Rhapta caused much controversy in Tanzania over the years, and when treasure-hunting fever lured them from all over the world, it created greed and envy that pushed the hobby to a new level. They needed to be alert and ready for anything.
"Keep your eyes open for anyone following us Quinn."
"Aye aye, captain."
He was playfully mocking her to keep the situation light, as usual. She regretted snapping at him earlier. Her aloof behavior was the only thing that kept her emotions — and people — at bay.
She kept her eye on the side view mirror. There was no indication of anything out of the ordinary behind them. To be safe, she crisscrossed the streets intentionally throwing anyone off their trail. Just in case. She couldn’t take any chances. If her father did escape the rebels and was at the safe house as she suspected, the rebels would have eyes all over the city.
Dar es Salaam was bustling with African traders and tourists making it ever more challenging to maneuver the bike amongst them. They made their way to the safe house slowly.
As Alex turned the corner her eye caught sight of a military green four-wheeler in her side mirror. It wasn’t the first time she had spotted it. She was certain it was the same one she saw behind them a little earlier. There was only one way to find out, so she took the first alleyway left and then turned right into another; all the while keeping her eye on the mirror. And sure enough, there they were. She needed no more convincing. They were indeed following them, and they were slowly but surely gaining on them. It was nearly impossible to see who was inside the vehicle but she wasn’t about to find out either.
"Hold on Quinn. Don't look now but we’re being followed.”
"What exactly do you mean when you say, ‘hold on'?"
But before she could explain, she accelerated and she felt Sam tighten his grip around her waist. She kicked the bike into lower gear and opened the throttle. It wasn’t the fastest bike on the planet, but the fact that it was smaller and fit through the side alleys played to their advantage. The Jeep wasn’t far behind. She had to find a way to shake them off their tail. Her mind jumped ahead as she mapped the roads. She knew the city streets like the back of her hand. Deciding the market square would be their best recourse she took the next corner; almost throwing Sam o
ff again. It was midday and the square would be packed with tourists shopping at the local vendors. She could easily cut through with the bike. Their followers, not so much.
"Bloody hell woman! Where did you learn to ride like this?" Sam yelled from behind her.
But Alex was focused and determined. She did not bat an eye and kept taking sharp turns left and then right to throw the Jeep off their tail.
The square was up ahead, and it was indeed teeming with people. It would be tough for the stalkers to keep up with them now. If she managed to cut through the crowds and crossed the square they’d be fine.
"Can you see them, Quinn?"
"If you're talking about the green SUV then no. We lost them when you first turned into the square and almost threw me off.“
"Great! That means they have to drive all the way around the square to get to the other side and that could take forever in this traffic. There’s no way they’d track us once I get over the bridge.”
"How far to the safe house?"
"Not far. It's straight ahead."
Ten minutes later Alex and Sam reached the safe house. Deciding she needed to make certain the Jeep hadn’t caught up with them, she took a slow drive around the block. Her eyes remained peeled for imminent threats. She was relieved when her safety check revealed there were none.
The abandoned warehouse looked exactly as she remembered it. From the outside, everything appeared to be intact apart from a few broken windows at the top. She was taught not to park directly in front of the entrance. Her father was always very specific about it being another last safety protocol. So she parked the bike around the back behind a nearby building. They had to go at it on foot and quickly. It wouldn’t be wise to linger and risk being seen.
”Come on Quinn. Keep up. We have to get inside before they track us down."
At the front door, Alex paused and surveyed the street once more.
"I think we've lost them Alex. I don't see anyone. Not that I'm surprised after your daredevil driving,” Sam joked as he smoothed his hand up and down the wooden door.
“Is this the front door? Where’s the door knob? How the heck do we get inside the building?”
"Yes, it's the door. Move over.”
The lack of a door handle was a decoy. Instead, a brass Rhinoceros head decorated the door; camouflaged as a door knocker. She pushed its right eye and waited for the clicking sound. Next, she twisted the horn to the left to hear another click, before she then pulled the right ear that led to another click and a second later, the large wooden door released.
"What the...? Well, what do you know? That's cracking. A secret lock. I would have never guessed it,” Sam exclaimed in amazement.
Alex rushed inside. "Dad! Daddy? Are you here? It's me, Alexandra."
Her words echoed in the hollowness of the warehouse, and she paused briefly to listen for her father’s answer. But he didn’t answer. It was quiet. Satisfied he wasn’t downstairs, she rushed down the corridor and leaped up the staircase to the room on the mezzanine level. There was a chance he’d be there considering it was the bedroom. But as they reached the top of the stairs, they heard a rustling noise come from somewhere downstairs.
"Someone is definitely here Quinn," she whispered. She yanked him by his arm to follow her back down the stairs and into the cavity below the stairs. If there was someone downstairs and her father was up in the bedroom, she’d expose him.
"Now would be a good time to take your gun out and take it off safety Alex."
"Not a chance. You do it. As long as you don’t get trigger-happy and shoot at anything that moves. It might be my father so be careful.”
"Have you forgotten I'm a doctor? I took the Hippocratic oath. I'll shoot to incapacitate only. And then I'll probably run over and fix him up."
"Shh. Now's not the time for jokes, Quinn. We could actually be killed here today.”
"Okay, okay, just saying."
“There’s only one way into the upstairs room. If we can get in we would have eyes on every corner in this building. If my father was up there, he would have certainly seen us by now already. I think someone else is here."
"Who else knows of this place?"
"No one. Just my father and I. And my mother knew of course, but she's, well, you know.” Alex trailed off unable to still speak the words out loud.
"I don't see anyone, Alex. It could just as well have been a rat or the pigeons or something. Let's take a chance and head up the stairs."
Alex agreed and allowed Sam to lead the way up the stairs. She might have looked calm and in control on the outside, but her pounding heart in her ears said the opposite. Her palms were clammy and that familiar feeling of fear gripped at the back of her neck. She was desperate for her pills. The memory of how she lost them in the first place, didn’t help her anxiety in that moment either. She was ready to pass out, but she couldn’t allow herself to be weak. Not now. Her father needed her and she had to do whatever it took to save him.
Once at the top of the stairs, Alex took a deep breath and pressed her thumb on the small screen that was hidden below the railing. A latch above her head flew open where she pushed a small button to release the door.
“What is this place? It’s amazing,” Sam whispered in awe behind her. "It's like being inside Pharaoh's tomb or something. You're one heck of a family that's for sure."
With the door firmly closed behind them, Alex walked over to the only window in the room. She peaked outside behind the curtain to survey the street. There was no sign of anyone outside. The bathroom looked like it had been used and there was fresh food in the fridge. There were clearly signs that indicated someone had been living there. Over at the bed she pulled the top cover away to reveal fresh, clean linen. The wardrobe had a few items of men’s pants and shirts but it could have just as well belonged to her father. She pulled out one of the books in the bookshelf and a door to a small room popped open. Inside the monitor for the surveillance cameras was off. She hastily switched it on and flicked from one camera view to another. She knew that the noise came from somewhere but the cameras covered every inch of the warehouse and there was no one there.
"Well, I hate to break it to you, but it very much looks like someone is staying here and whoever it is, has a map and several notes on Rhapta."
"What?" Alex rushed over to where Sam sat behind the desk skimming through the umpteen notes and scribbles.
"These are my mother’s notes. It's her handwriting. Someone stole all her research. What the...! Who the heck would do such a despicable thing? And how? How would they have found them?"
"She must have had them on her when they took her, or they came back for it afterward."
"No. I don't think so. She didn’t have it on her and we were practically asleep when... when, it’s not possible. Her bag with her journal was on the floor next to her bed, and they never came inside the tent that night.”
"Well, someone is living in this place. It's not the cleanest, but you can most definitely see someone is living here. Look. There is half a sandwich here, and it looks only about a day or two old."
Perplexed Alex flicked through the camera views again to see if she might have missed anyone downstairs.
"See anything?"
"Nope, nothing. I'm not convinced that noise was a rat or a pigeon, Sam. I'm telling you. We're not alone in here.
"I thought you said only you, and your parents had knowledge of the safe house”
"Yes, and my Dad's clearly not here and my Mum’s dead so that leaves an intruder. We have no choice but to wait it out and surprise him. Sooner or later he would have to come upstairs. We'll be here waiting for him."
Chapter Twelve
Charles
The stabbing pain in his feet stint his running. It didn't help that the boots were about two sizes too big either.
"Bloody shoes of a dead man,” he scoffed out loud.
Charles was angry. It wasn’t supposed to go down like this. He loved his job and over t
he years had more than his fair share of hair-raising expeditions, but this? This one set the bar. It was a question of life and death. Death in Izzy's case. His mind wandered with every step Charles took as it produced all the questions that had been torturing him for years. Was all this worth losing her life over? A ridiculous quest for a lost city that might never have existed in the first place. But his wife believed with all her heart that it was real and in his heart, he believed it too.
If only he hadn't left her and Alexandra alone. For years he tried to make sense of why they took Izzy. Her kidnappers must have known another piece of the puzzle and needed her to solve it. Everyone was well aware she was the brain behind the cyphers.
Charles stopped and leaned against a tree. He had to stop torturing himself. It wouldn’t bring her back. Nothing would. But finding Rhapta and completing her dream would bring closure and set her soul free forever.
It was dark amongst the dense trees as the leaves blocked the moonlight. He had no idea of direction and could have been running in circles for all he knew. The tall grass and bushes were thick and not easy to navigate. Aside from that, he smelled of blood, which, out there in the African jungle, meant he was any carnivore’s easy prey. He had to move quickly and quietly and get to safety. His feet hurt and he could barely see through his swollen eyes, but he was alive and that was all that counted.
Charles was exhausted but he kept running. Every couple of yards he made a small carving into a tree to mark his route. That way he’d know if he was running in circles. He managed to run a fair distance into the bush and was pretty sure no one was following him. He heaved heavily. His lungs were taking strain. A sharp burning sensation in his lungs caused him to gasp for breath. He wasn’t as fit as he used to be.
The thought crossed his mind whether the rebels were aware of his escape or if they assumed the rivals took him as their prisoner. With any luck, they were all dead. Shot by the same sniper that killed the giant. His body ached in places he never knew was possible. Moving, much less running, was harder to do with each step he took. He had no idea how far he had run or how far he still had to go. He stumbled a few times. Partly due to the clumsy shoes and partly because he couldn’t see much. But Charles kept running and never stopped or looked back.
The Alex Hunt Series Page 12
