by Tom Hunter
“What would anyone need with a thief?” Akhenaton pointed out. “It’s hardly a noble profession. ‘Let the thief no longer steal, but rather let him labor, doing honest work with his own hands, so that he may have something to share with anyone in need.’” He grinned. “Ephesians 4:28. God has plenty of wisdom to share with those who are willing to hear.”
“Spare me your Biblical platitudes.” Waleed waved Akhenaton away. “It means nothing in my world.”
“But wouldn’t you like to expand your world?” Akhenaton asked. “Wouldn’t you like the camaraderie of friendship, the knowledge that you’re working hard to provide not just for yourself but for others too?”
“I’m on a mission to save the world, remember?” Waleed remarked. “You can’t really do much more for others than that, can you?”
“I guess that depends on whether you’re really with us or just coming along for the ride,” Akhenaton observed. “Come on. Let’s go grab something to eat before we meet up with the others. Going by what I’ve just seen, you’ve got more than enough money to buy me dinner as a thank you for saving your life.”
“I would have found another way to escape,” Waleed claimed. “But I suppose you do have a point. I could get you a sandwich or something.”
“I was thinking more lobster and champagne,” Akhenaton joked, as the pair of them exited the alley, back into the scorching afternoon sun.
Thirty-Four
Gord shifted uncomfortably in the decrepit armchair in his motel room as he watched TV. A political discussion show was debating whether the Bruard’s influence was on the wane, but it was hard for Gord to focus on the points being made over the sound of a loud argument between the couple in the room next door. It didn’t help that the neon lights directly outside his window buzzed loudly and blinked on and off at irregular intervals, giving him a headache.
He picked up his cell phone from the side table next to his chair, swiping at the screen for the thousandth time to see if he’d somehow managed to miss a call, but there was nothing. After a week of waiting, Gord was getting sick of being cooped up in his room just to keep a low profile because Pin thought it best. This place was worse than prison.
Tossing his phone back down, Gord stood up and paced up and down the room, debating with himself whether it was worth incurring the wrath of Pin by going out in search of some excitement. Although he’d been ordered to stay out of trouble, being good had its limits.
Grabbing his laptop bag, he sat back down on the armchair, pulling out his computer. He drummed his fingers on the armrest as he waited for his machine to boot up. Inputting his password, he pulled up his untraceable Tor web browser and clicked on the encrypted email program he had installed.
“All right, boss. I hope you’re excited about another riveting update when nothing’s actually happened,” he muttered as he composed an email to the shell company Pin used as a front for covert communication.
To [email protected]
Further to your order placed last week, we regret to inform you that there has been a delay with shipping and we are currently unsure when we will be able to supply you with the goods requested. Rest assured that we have received your deposit and are working as hard as we can to fulfil your requirements. We will be in contact when we have any further information from our supplies as to when you can expect your package.
Hitting send, Gord waited for the little ping telling him that the email had been securely delivered, then shut down his laptop again.
Just as he snapped closed the device to put it away, his cell phone rang.
“Finally,” he growled, swiping at the screen to answer the call. “Yes?”
“Gord, darling.” Valentina’s voice purred down the phone. “I trust you have been enjoying yourself in our beautiful country?”
“Hardly,” Gord snarled. “No one could have much fun when they’re stuck in this dump.”
“Yes, I suppose there are some downsides to being on Interpol’s Most Wanted list,” laughed Valentina. “Still, a man of your resources must be able to find some way of entertaining himself. My father always said that only boring people ever got bored.”
“Unless your father can tell me where to find Fatima, I could care less what he says,” Gord snapped. “What’s been taking you so long? I was told that you were an expert in your field. I could have found the psychic days ago if I’d known you’d drag your heels all this time.”
“Hardly.” Valentina’s laugh tinkled down the phone, setting Gord’s nerves on edge. “And in any case, I’ve been exceptionally busy working on your behalf. Would you prefer me to waste my time calling you every five minutes to stroke your ego, or get on with the job at hand?”
Gord merely grunted in reply.
“Your Fatima is a very elusive woman who has gone to great lengths to hide her whereabouts,” Valentina told him. “She’s led me a merry dance, all right. Nevertheless, I’ve managed to uncover some leads that may just turn up fruit.”
“Go on.”
“It turns out that Fatima was running a psychic hotline in one of the areas your report highlighted,” Valentina revealed. “Given that she’s independently wealthy thanks to her various ex-husbands, I can only assume that she was doing this to hone her psychic abilities to make sure she didn’t go rusty. Of course, there’s also the possibility that she set the business up to give her a bolt hole should she ever need to go to ground. It’s been running for many years, despite making minimal profits.”
“So we go to the headquarters of this phone service and grab her,” said Gord.
“Not so fast, my hotheaded friend,” Valentina tutted. “I still need to verify that this really is your Fatima and not another wannabe psychic wanting to get rich quick by profiting from her reputation. I’m working on the basis that she’s using an assumed name, so I’ve had to do a lot of extra research to confirm that this lead is genuine. I’ve been comparing signatures and a buried name change document, but the signs are good so far.”
“Why make this so complicated?” asked Gord. “Why not just grab the woman and then see if she’s who we’re looking for?”
“Because, dear boy, it’s been incredibly complicated to track down her base,” Valentina replied, in an exasperated tone. “Despite my wealth of experience, I’ve rarely encountered someone as determined to elude identification as this woman. Whilst I’ve been able to backtrack a decade’s worth of IP addresses obtained by hacking her hotline’s email service, it transpires that a number of dummy emails have been set up to obscure her tracks.
“Further investigation has revealed that these email addresses go out to a number of locations across the North African coastline. Your dossier mentioned that Fatima predicted a hurricane and saved an entire city. What it didn’t say was that following this incredible feat, she was contacted by an alleged secret service agent, who attempted to woo her. Of course, you’ll be fully aware of her penchant for governmental agents, but it turned out that this ‘gentleman’ was sent by the Bruard to kidnap her. I dread to think what kind of nefarious scheme they wanted her for, but it’s not my business to speculate, other than to think that if they’d only come to me first, Fatima would be in Bruard custody right now.”
Gord rolled his eyes at the fake innocence oozing from her tone.
“Obviously, Fatima managed to escape, but the attempt clearly unsettled her, which is why she’s gone to such great lengths to conceal her tracks, making it difficult to find her again,” Valentina continued.
“We paid you a great deal of money to track down the psychic,” Gord reminded the finder. “If you’ve been wasting my time…”
“Not in the slightest,” Valentina laughed, ignoring the implicit threat. “Fatima’s good, but I’m better. I’ve worked my magic and backtracked some of those old emails to another location, one that nobody appears to have ever searched. I suspect that this is where you’ll find the woman you seek.”
“So what are we waiting for?
Tell me where she is and we can get going immediately,” Gord demanded.
“Don’t be so impatient,” chided Valentina. “I pride myself on my 100% success rate. Before I send you gallivanting off on a wild goose chase, I want to obtain visual confirmation of the target to ensure that this really is the woman you seek. I’d hate for you to be picked up by the authorities only to discover that we had the wrong Fatima. Then, of course, there’s the question of my payment.”
“What do you mean? You’ve already had your deposit. You won’t get a penny more until I have Fatima in my custody.”
“Nuh-uh-uh.” Valentina’s irritating laugh hurt Gord’s ears. “I’m afraid that’s not how this works. I’m fully aware of the kind of people I deal with and much as I’d love to trust you to keep your promise, I’d hate to tempt you to break it for the sake of mere money. Pay me the outstanding amount, and you’ll have the precise location of Fatima just as soon as I’ve confirmed it to my satisfaction.”
“You little-”
“Now, now. Don’t go spoiling our friendship with name calling,” Valentina advised. “Have you never heard of the dangers of a woman scorned? One word from me that you’re looking for her and I guarantee you’ll never get this close to Fatima again. Now I shall send my driver over to your motel forthwith. I’m sure that he won’t face any problems when it comes to obtaining the rest of the money I’m owed.”
Gord clenched his fist. “You’ll get what’s coming to you,” he swore.
“Excellent!” Gord could practically hear the smile in Valentina’s voice. “Now you just stay where you are and be patient for a little while longer and I’ll have some good news for you very soon.”
The enigmatic woman hung up, and Gord tossed his cell back onto the table in disgust. “I swear that if that woman annoys me one more time, I’ll kill her,” he promised himself. “And I’ll take my time to enjoy myself as I strip all the skin from her body.”
Thirty-Five
Akhenaton turned green, as the plane bounced back onto the ground to touch down.
“Someone doesn’t like flying,” laughed Josh as Akhenaton slowly released the armrests from his death grip.
“If man were meant to fly, God would have given him wings,” the Knight countered.
“Is this your first time overseas?” Shafira asked sympathetically, as they got up to retrieve their hand luggage from the overhead lockers.
“It is,” Akhenaton nodded. “I’ve spent all my life in the Order, so I’ve only ever patrolled the region assigned to my cell. There was never any reason to fly anywhere. A skimmer was as far off the ground as we ever needed to go. It was tough enough getting in Josh’s helicopter. Trusting your life to someone else while you rattle around in a tin can rushing through the air is madness.”
His hand instinctively patted at his side where his sword would be, seeking the reassurance of the familiar blade, his face falling when he remembered that he’d had to leave it behind.
“Don’t worry,” Shafira reassured him, noticing the gesture. “Your sword will be safe in the storage locker. And maybe we’ll be able to obtain a new blade for you while we’re here.”
“Thanks,” said Akhenaton. “I don’t feel comfortable being unarmed.”
They made their way through baggage reclaim without issue, and headed out to the taxi stand.
“Someone didn’t think this through,” observed Waleed at the sight of the line of small cars. “How on earth are we all meant to squeeze into one of those tiny vehicles with all our bags?”
“By finding a bigger cab,” grinned Akhenaton, waving at a large van that had just pulled into the back of the taxi pickup. “I told you, Waleed. Trust in God. He always provides.”
Waleed just snorted as the party hurried to grab the taxi before someone else did. Despite the extra seats, it was still a tight fit to get them all in, bags perched precariously on laps as the driver pulled out into the traffic.
“Where are we heading?” he called over his shoulder.
“Just take us into the town center for now,” Samuel replied. “We’re still debating where exactly we want to stay. You know how it is. One person wants a hotel with a sea view, while another claims the smell of the ocean brine makes them feel sick. If you head into the city, we’ll let you know what we want when we get closer.”
“Your wish is my command.” The driver started to hum along to the song playing on the radio as his passengers debated where they should go.
“We spent how many hours in the air and we still haven’t decided where to start looking for the leader of the Order?” complained Waleed. “I thought that’s why we brought Akhenaton along with us. Isn’t he supposed to be our guide?”
“Close, but not quite,” Akhenaton corrected. “I’m as much in the dark as you are when it comes to finding the person we seek.”
“Well, we’ve been given our first clue in Hippo Regius and we’ve followed that by coming to Annaba,” Samuel said. “We need to find as much information about St. Augustine’s library. I did as much online research as possible during the layover, but there’s only so much information online and I couldn’t get access to the Ministry archives to see if there was anything useful there.”
“Sorry about that,” Shafira apologized. “Before I left my office, the B-” She glanced nervously at the driver, realizing her mistake in mentioning the enemy. “I mean, we’ve been having some internet problems that may have been caused by malicious means. It’s possible that they still haven’t managed to fully resolve the problem. There are some really clever viruses out there and our IT team aren’t exactly known for their speed.”
“Not to worry,” Samuel reassured her, as an idea hit him. “There’s always more than one way to skin a cat. Excuse me!” He called out to their driver.
“Yes, sir?”
“Do you know anything about where the library of St. Augustine once stood?”
“St. Augustine, you say?” echoed the driver. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of him. He sounds Latin or something.”
“He was a Roman saint,” Samuel said, an edge of impatience in his voice. “He’s supposed to have set up a renowned library back when Annaba was known as Hippo Regius.”
“Well I’m no history buff,” the driver commented, “but if I wanted to know something about the city’s ancient past, I’d probably start by going to the Bibliothèque Centrale. They hold all sorts of records there.”
“Great! Thanks for that–if you could take us there now, we’d really appreciate it,” smiled Samuel.
“No, we wouldn’t,” Basile put in hurriedly.
“What’s the problem?” Samuel frowned. “The sooner we track down the library, the better.”
“In case you’d forgotten, some of us are still recovering from an injury,” Basile reminded him, lifting up his arm, which now only had a light bandage on it.
“Besides, who wants to go visiting libraries when we’re carrying all our things?” Waleed pointed out. “And I hate to say it, Samuel, but you stink! I strongly suggest you have a shower before you go and impose yourself on the general public.”
“It’s not that bad is it?” Samuel lifted up an arm and sniffed at his armpit.
“I think we could all do with a little freshening up,” Shafira said diplomatically. “Look, we may be here for a while. It makes sense to find lodgings to store our bags. We can search faster when we’re not weighed down by luggage.”
“All right,” Samuel nodded. “You all make excellent points. Driver, could you recommend a reasonably priced motel in the area?”
“I know some lovely places,” came the eager reply. “There’s one that has some absolutely stunning views over the city, or there are some very nice places with easy access to the beach. If you tell them that Raoul sent you, you’ll get a very good deal.”
“While you pocket a nice fat commission when they still overcharge us?” observed Waleed. “Don’t think we’re not wise to your little scam, my friend.”
“And even more difference to your bank balance?” sneered Waleed.
“All right, Waleed. Thanks for your help.” Shafira stepped in to defuse the developing argument, not wanting to see them all turfed out on the side of the road. “Raoul, while we appreciate your thoughtfulness, we’re on a tight budget. Could you take us to somewhere that’s more economical?”
“If you insist,” Raoul sighed, signaling to take a turn off from the highway.
Soon they pulled up outside a down market motel. The neon sign indicating that there were vacancies available buzzed loudly overhead as the six adventurers piled out of the cab. Samuel paid the driver, tipping him a minimal amount.
“Thank you,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to mask his disappointment. “If you need anything else, just get the manager to call Raoul. I’m always happy to help.”
Samuel thought for a moment. “Do you mind waiting while we check in?” he asked. “I’d still like to get down to the library this afternoon.”
“Of course. No problem.” Raoul switched off his cab sign and shut off the engine, switching the meter back on before settling down in his seat as his passengers headed into the reception area.
Soon, the team had the keys to a row of adjacent rooms. After leaving her bags in her sleeping quarters, Shafira went to join the others in Samuel’s room.
“I know you guys think that we ought to freshen up,” he was saying, “but I really think we should be going to the library first. We’ve already wasted time with the layover and I’m concerned that Pin and his goons have such a large head start on us that they might almost be ready to use St. Augustine’s secret. We can’t lose any more time. It’s imperative that we track down the leader of the Order without delay.”
