This was only the second day they had been here, and she was still getting her bearings. She had slept the whole of the first day; crashed out like a zombie. The others had gone out without her to wander the souks and get some food. She’d been woken, dazed and disoriented, by the evening call to prayer sounding through the city and the sight of a perfect full moon shining through her bedroom window.
Plates of small, snack-like food were placed in front of them, along with a dip in a large bowl.
“What’s this?” She stared at it suspiciously.
“Mezze,” he answered, picking up one of the bite-sized portions and wolfing it down. “For starters. Go on. Take one. It’s good.”
She picked one up, placing it in her mouth. He was right—it was good. Spicy, but not overwhelming. She started to relax.
They didn’t talk much during the starters. Nor when they ate the tagine stew, served in an earthen conical pot that she had never seen, alongside a bowl of steaming couscous. She had never had couscous before, either. It seemed like she was going to be experiencing a lot of new things in Marrakech.
At the end, they served mint tea. Robin sipped the hot liquid gingerly. “It’s very sweet.”
Dale sipped his. “It is. They love their sweets in Morocco.” He paused. “But then, so do you. At least it’s better than the gallons of soda you drink.”
She shrugged, putting down her cup. “Can we get a beer? I think I need a bit of an alcoholic kick.”
He shook his head. “Not possible, I am afraid. Alcohol is forbidden.” He leaned forward. “At least in most parts of Marrakech. There are black market clubs, I’ve heard, where it flows freely.”
Robin raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like my kind of place.”
Dale shook his head again. “It’s dangerous to frequent them. They mainly cater to rich Westerners who want to trade their black market wares.”
Robin shrugged. “Perfect. Go on. Live a little.”
Dale gazed at her. Their eyes met for a long moment. Warmth flooded through Robin, and she knew it wasn’t from the mint tea.
He broke the contact, staring at the wall behind her. “You look more comfortable in the dress I got you.” His eyes flickered over her again. “The color suits you.”
Robin reddened. “I’ve been meaning to thank you for it …”
He shrugged. “It cost less than a burger back home. These markets are good value.” He smiled slightly. “I think I can afford it. Just.”
Suddenly, his cell phone beeped. He took it out of his pocket and stared at it. “Audra and Mason are back from the new city. We should get going.” He paused. “Good to see the new dual SIM cards she got us work with the local towers. We are slowly getting in business.”
He stood up, holding out his hand to help her up from the cushion. She hesitated, then took it. He lifted her up so suddenly, she stumbled slightly, falling against him.
“Sorry.” She stepped back. “Not used to sitting so close to the ground.”
He gazed down at her. “There’s a lot of things you’ll have to get used to around here, Robin. Marrakech is a whole new world.”
15
Audra stared out the window, biting her lip. “Where are they? I hope they haven’t been targeted by a pickpocket.”
“Chill, Audra.” Mason was relaxing in a low-slung rattan lounge chair. “Dale’s a big boy. And I get the feeling Robin can hold her own, too.”
Audra nodded, but turned back to the window. Her eyes scoured the street anxiously. But then she saw two figures walking towards the gate. They were laughing together as Dale took out a key and opened it. Robin was just behind him. She frowned. What on earth was she wearing? Some kind of a floaty blue dress. Not the kind of thing she would have thought she would own.
She watched them turn to each other for a moment, then head inside. Voices filled the foyer. Audra turned away from the window, plastering a smile on her face. But the small knot in her stomach refused to budge. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on between them.
* * *
Dale strode through the courtyard of the riad, staring down at the blue and white geometric tiles that covered the floor like a mosaic. He could hear the water from the central fountain cascading, almost reverberating off the adobe brick walls. It was a beautiful place. A pity he wasn’t here on holiday, he thought sardonically, rather than trying to nail his psychotic ex and his life’s work.
As he bounded up the stairs, he reflected it could be worse. In the days since they had been here, they’d made some progress. And he had been enjoying wandering the souks of the old city with Robin while Audra and Mason set to work. They had been playing tourists; haggling for kefta from street vendors and collapsing into cafés when the heat became too much. He grinned. Robin had even begun to enjoy the ubiquitous mint tea which was practically Morocco’s national drink.
He grinned at the thought of her. She was out of her comfort zone here, but he could see that she was enjoying the experience. And he was enjoying playing tour guide for her. A bit more than he should be. He wouldn’t think about that too much.
He reached the top of the stairs, stopping outside the door of the room she was working in. He could hear voices in there. Audra and Mason must have got back from the new city early today. He could only hope and pray that they had some intel and had made some progress on the equipment.
He sighed deeply, opening the door.
* * *
Robin glanced up as Dale walked in. They had dial-up invite-only bulletin board systems here, but she had managed to find a local net used by the Medina’s black market. He knew she was finding the rudimentary internet frustrating, but there was a gleam in her eyes.
“Carlotta has been spotted entering Morocco,” she said. “She’s staying somewhere in the new city.”
Dale blanched. He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. For a moment, a vision of her flashed into his brain. Her long dark hair and long, long legs. No, he told himself fiercely. Don’t go there. “Do we know where?”
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
He sat down slowly, staring at Audra and Mason. “Has the briefcase been signaling again?”
Mason shook his head. “I’m afraid not, boss. We can’t get a trace on it at the moment. But it is definitely in Marrakech now.”
Dale cursed slightly, then turned back to Robin. “Good work. Keep at it.”
She stared at him. “You know, I will be able to do a lot better once we get all the equipment I need. How much longer?”
Dale gritted his teeth. It was taking longer than he had expected to set up shop here. Audra spoke fluent French, the second language of Morocco, and had some Arabic as well. She had been heading into the new city daily with Mason to try to find what they needed and get some intel. But so far, they hadn’t discovered anywhere that had the sophisticated equipment, data, and software that Robin was insisting on.
“Any other updates?” he said now, turning back to Audra. “Have you heard anything on the street?”
Audra sighed. “I’ve had warnings from the locals that the Medina is a dangerous place, especially for a woman alone.” She paused. “It’s been a home for spies, criminals, and information brokers on the black market forever. Also that there are rich Western men living hedonistic lives in hidden places in the walled city, rarely leaving their homes.”
Dale leaned forward. “Thompson.”
Mason nodded. “Exactly what I was thinking. He fits the profile of one of them to a tee. He’s our man, Dale. I know it.”
Dale nodded. “So do I.” He cursed under his breath. “And I know another thing. We must find out where Thompson lives. The man is hiding in his pleasure palace, and I am going to flush him out if it’s the last thing that I do.” He paused. “But we are going to need some local help to do it.”
16
Robin dodged the cobra charmers in Djemma el Fna square, trying to keep up with the others who were striding ahead through the
labyrinthine alleys of the old city. They had been searching for an electronics vendor for half the day now, and they were still no closer to securing the equipment that she needed. It was starting to frustrate her.
Suddenly, a local woman wearing a black head scarf blocked her path. Her eyes were large and liquid, like black pools, staring up at her. “Mehndi? Mehndi?”
Robin gazed at her. “What? I don’t understand.”
The woman gestured to a small footstool, indicating that Robin should follow her.
“She wants to paint you,” said Audra, who had turned back with the others. “With henna. It’s a local tradition, but I wouldn’t get one done in this square. They overcharge.”
Robin stared at the small woman in the head scarf, who was still beseeching her to follow. Dale raised his eyebrows, and Mason grinned.
“I don’t care how much it costs,” she said slowly. “She looks like she needs the money.”
She allowed herself to be led to the stool, sitting down and picking her design. She grinned. A henna tattoo would be a great souvenir. It mightn’t be permanent, but it would still be beautiful.
“What’s your name?” she asked the woman, as she prepared her paint.
“Adilah,” the woman answered, her cheeks dimpling.
“I’m Robin,” she said, laying out her hand. “Pleased to meet you. Can I ask you a question?”
* * *
They found a café and settled down at the benches, ordering coffee. As Robin sat down she raised her hand, admiring the woman’s handiwork. It was an intricate pattern of swirls, applied with a deft touch. The woman was an artist. And it had taken her mind off the fact that they were getting exactly nowhere in their search for equipment. Or maybe not. Adilah had given her a lead.
The coffee arrived, steaming hot. Robin picked it up, sipping gratefully.
“I like it,” said Dale, staring at her. “Your henna tattoo.”
She grinned. “Cool, isn’t it? It’s not something I would have even thought of getting back home, but here … it kind of seems natural.”
“You are acclimatizing,” said Dale. “I hardly recognize you.”
Robin’s grin widened. It was true. She hardly recognized herself these days. Her black jeans, tees, and hoodies were gathering dust in a corner of her room. It was just too damn hot to wear them here. And in addition to the floaty blue dress Dale had gifted her on their first day here, she had bought a couple of others and some fisherman-style pants and loose tops. She had even splashed out and bought some silver jeweler: looping earrings and bangles.
But she knew it wasn’t just the clothes or the jewelry. It was like she had suddenly let her breath out and relaxed, almost for the first time in her life. Well, she had never been on vacation before. Even if it was a working vacation.
That thought brought her back to earth with a thud. The equipment.
“We shouldn’t stay long,” she said slowly. “Hopefully that vendor that Adilah the henna artist suggested might finally have what we need.”
“Maybe.” Audra wrinkled her nose as she picked up her coffee. “Or it could be yet another dodgy vendor in a long line of them.”
“Well, we’ll never know if we don’t try, will we?” said Dale, drumming his fingers on the table. “Local knowledge. It was a good idea to ask her, Robin.”
Robin smiled, pretending not to notice the sour look that had suddenly come over Audra’s face. The woman was as transparent as a pane of glass. Audra visibly stiffened whenever Dale paid any attention to her. But she still hadn’t figured out what was between the secretary and her boss—if there was in fact anything. Dale seemed oblivious to Audra’s flirtation, but maybe he was avoiding it. Just like he was avoiding her. Since their kiss back in the lab that day, when he had asked her to come to Morocco, he had carefully avoided any situation where there could be a repeat performance.
And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Not in the slightest.
“We should make it a priority to get local guides,” said Mason now. “These streets are like a maze. Spin me around once and I’m lost.”
“And the makeshift roofs prevent a satellite view,” said Audra, frowning. “I’ve never seen such a hotchpotch collection, or so many. They use sheets of metal but also tarps and rugs.”
“True,” said Dale, draining his coffee. “And there doesn’t seem to be any proper maps available. The Medina is like a lost city that time forgot.”
“And what is that city hiding?” said Audra darkly. “I agree with Mason, Dale. We need to get local guides. They might have heard word of where the nanites are or even Carlotta. And they could have good information about Thompson as well.”
Dale nodded, but he seemed distracted. He stood up. The others drained their coffees and followed suit. As they were leaving, Robin hesitated at the door. Dale looked at her searchingly.
“I just want to speak to the guy behind the counter,” she said slowly. “I’ll catch up.”
He nodded. She turned back to the counter. She had noticed the men smoking hookahs in a discreet corner of the café. She wanted information, but it wasn’t about what Dale thought. She thought he would be cool with it, but you never knew with him.
* * *
As soon as they reached the square again, they regrouped.
“Audra, you go with Robin to this vendor,” said Dale. “Mason and I will see if we can get any more information on these leads about Carlotta and the nanites. Maybe we might be able to find some local guides as well.”
Audra’s face tightened. “Will you come back to find us?”
Dale nodded. “Sure. It will be almost time for dinner then. We can find a good place to eat. Hopefully this place will have the goods that Robin wants.”
“What I need,” said Robin slowly. “There’s a difference.”
Dale smiled. “What you need, then.”
Their eyes met for a moment. Dale was the first to look away.
“Shall we?” said Audra, staring stonily at Robin. “Time is ticking, and it will take us a while to get to where your tattoo artist said. That is if she’s not leading us up the garden path entirely.”
“She’s legit,” said Robin confidently. “I can tell.”
Audra and Robin drifted away, heading towards the vendor who hopefully would have what she needed. Dale watched them for a moment, then turned to Mason.
“Let’s do it.”
* * *
Robin trailed Audra, staring at the woman’s stiff back as she wove through the souks. She hadn’t once glanced back to see if Robin was keeping up. She walks like she’s got a stick up her ass, thought Robin. And it wasn’t hard to figure out why that was. Dale Michaels.
They turned right, down a darkened alleyway. A cornucopia of olive stalls, in a myriad of colors, confronted them. Robin saw wizened black ones, juicy-looking purple ones, and small green olives marinating in jars everywhere. She frowned. This alley looked like it only sold food, and yet she was certain that it was the one Adilah had said.
And then suddenly she saw it, tucked away. It was almost completely obscured by a rug, and the doorway was tiny. But she could just make out a pile of electrical goods stacked haphazardly through it.
“This is it?” Audra turned to her.
Robin nodded. She took a deep breath and entered, suddenly feeling like she had discovered Aladdin’s treasure trove.
17
Dale glanced up, frowning. Where exactly had Mason disappeared to?
They had headed into a more touristy part of the old city and the crowd had thickened considerably. Mason had been striding ahead, and he had almost lost him a few times now. He stared through the throng, trying to locate him.
Suddenly, it was as if a violent wind was buffeting him. A flash of white. It was a boy … or was it a man? A small figure, anyway, moving like quicksilver. He pushed Dale forward so that he had to reach out to stop himself from falling. He turned around quickly, seeing the figure weave back into the crowd. A figure
in a long white caftan, with pale olive skin and close-cropped dark curly hair.
A coldness swept over him. Quickly, he reached into his pockets.
The figure had just taken his wallet and his phone.
He set off after him without even thinking. But then he heard Mason shouting to him through the crowd. Dale turned back.
“The boy,” he yelled. “The one in white. He took my wallet and my phone.”
Mason didn’t need any more information. He set out after the boy like a shot, pushing people aside to get to him. Dale trailed them. Mason was quick. Dale could see he was almost upon the boy already.
Suddenly, he had him by the scruff of the neck. The youth wriggled like a fish on the end of a hook, crying out in Arabic. But Mason ignored him, shaking him down. Several cell phones and wallets fell out of the boy’s clothing, landing like autumn leaves around him.
“Who are you working for?” snarled Mason, pinning him to a wall. “Answer me!”
But the boy refused to talk, staring stonily beyond him. Dale could see they were drawing attention now. Several people had stopped to watch the large redhaired man shaking the small figure.
But then, to Dale’s astonishment, Mason was ambushed by another figure that had seemingly sprung like an assassin out of the shadows. This one was taller and dressed in a similar way to the other one. He had darker olive skin and curly black hair which seemed to grow in an aura around his head.
And he was strong. Mason was taken by surprise, grunting loudly as he was tackled by the man, falling to the ground. But he was soon on his feet, fighting the second figure. The thief seemed as surprised as them. He hadn’t moved from his position against the wall, staring at the fighting men with large brown eyes. He was older than Dale had first thought—maybe late teens.
Chasing the Cure Page 7
