“Not at all.” His solemn voice echoed in the night. The maid returned and he waved her away. “Not now.” His voice thundered.
“Delilah gave me two amulets to hold. I told you I only had one, thinking I could make extra money on the second one.” She swallowed slowly. A tear fell from her left eye.” I need money. I hope you can understand.”
“So why give the ankh to me now?” His voice edged with heavy, hard to read emotion.
“For Rashida.” She kept her tone light, but she could tell by the shock in his eyes, the substance of her words hit him hard. If his silence could be said to gasp, it did just that. His stilled amazement echoed off the walls.
Firming his mouth into a straight line, he took the ankh from her hand and examined it. A wave of light crossed his dark expression and then he placed it on the table between them. The quiet in the room felt heavier than an iceberg. Finally he spoke, “Thank you.”
“Is that the one?”
“It is a very fine amulet. I sense power in it, but no, the ankh I seek is about twice the size and possesses many times its power. It is known by our people as The Emerald Ankh.”
“Can I help you get it?”
The intensity of his stare made her think for a moment that he saw beneath her cover. Her heart stopped. Hell, the world stopped.
Bakari held the smaller ankh in his fist. “It is in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York, amongst as you put it, ‘a lot of other ankhs’.”
Her eyes popped. Bingo.
“My men will break into the museum and grab a collection of amulets. You will fly The Emerald Ankh back to me. That is if you want the job. You will be well paid.”
“You want me to smuggle it?”
“Name your price.”
“I have to go through customs like everyone else,” she said straightening her backbone and shaking her head.
“Yes, but your passport shows that you travel a lot and you are so beautiful and charming the border guards don’t check you closely. I will give you luggage that will help you conceal it.”
“Just the one piece?”
“Just the one. The others I will have returned to me in other ways. You Americans have no right to keep Egyptian treasures. But I will have replicas made and sent back to the museum.” He rose and walked over to her extending his hand.
She took it and stood up. “I… I’ll think about it.”
He smiled, probably because people rarely thought about taking orders from him. They just did his bidding. No thinking involved. But she didn’t want to appear to be too easy. Hmmm. Too easy. On that subject… She leaned towards him and watched his eyes widen. “I’m so sorry about Rashida…” She brushed his lips with hers.
He stared at her as if he needed to assess the situation, as if she were a bank statement.
That chill that had haunted her since the first moment she met him settled deep into her her bones. Could her body respond to him or was she about to perform an award worthy performance. Screwing him would strengthen bond, seal the deal, further her mission. Hell it might even give her control.
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly. If Sebastian did that she’d be flying to the moon. Instead, she felt emptied. She stepped back. “Good night.” She didn’t want him to think her too easy. It might make him suspicious.
“You must be tired,” he said as he gallantly took her hand and kissed the top of it.
She smiled like a cat about to purr.
The corner of his mouth twitched. She could feel his hunger, but also his self-restraint. A man didn’t get as far as he had without being able to control himself. “It is better that we keep our relationship business-like until you return with the ankh. You are…” He paused. “Distracting.”
He called for the maid and she appeared. “Show my guest to her room and make sure she is comfortable.”
Bakari picked up the ankh from the table and handed it back to Sadie. “To keep you safe, Habibti.”
32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Bakari stood on the private stone balcony off his bed chambers sipping a glass of fifty year old single malt scotch, as he looked over his gardens. The gentle night breeze softened the spring heat, but not his ardor. It would take more than a perfect glass of whisky to rein in his feelings. The American woman possessed a toxic she-magic. Could she be the worthy opponent Djeserit had warned him about?
What a woman. Her image, perfect features and luscious body burned. A man could get lost in her moss green eyes, her flawless velvet skin, her long shapely legs. He wanted to run his hands all over her body to see if every curve felt as good as it looked. Tasted. He swallowed. He’d seen many beautiful women in his lifetime. Laid with them. Married four. But Sadie Stewart drew him in a way none of the others had.
She shone so brightly all other women faded in his mind. Demure one minute, overtly sexual the next; smart and spirited. The woman’s refined good looks and feisty spirit made her exquisite.
He may as well admit it to himself. She’d done what no other woman had ever done before, though many had tried. She’d touched his heart. Up to that moment he wasn’t even sure he had one.
The intent way Sadie listened to his story about Rashida warmed him, and then when she offered him the ankh, she blew his mind. Surely, she knew she risked angering him, risked her own life, and yet she did it anyway. Because it was the right thing to do. The woman had courage, honor and heart.
What would it be like to spend time with a woman like her? To not be alone in the darkness with her. To be truly cared for by her? She could be his equal. A voice inside him whispered, She could also be the worthy adversary. He shook his head, not wanting to believe that.
Still, he had to be careful. So much was now at stake. Her beauty alone made her dangerous. She could be an instrument of his karma manifested on this plane to exact justice on him, the obstacle Djeserit had warned him about. He exhaled slowly and pulled out his cell phone. She would never forgive him if he did this. But did he need her forgiveness? He texted Gahiji: “Take Mitchell.”
***
Sadie’s bedroom with its floor to ceiling windows and dark wood panelling looked modern. She had expected cobwebs, stone and mould like the House of Usher, because of the age of the castle, but the room surprised her. A gorgeous vanity table made of polished mahogany on the far side caught her eye first. Made for a queen, it had a four foot mirror with side mirrors that folded out and could be adjusted, a velvet, cushioned chair to sit on and drawers for cosmetics and brushes. She ran her hand over the polished wood and sighed. Everything about this castle seemed surreal.
In the center of the room sat an enormous king sized bed. Her eyebrows rose as she approached it. A dark green silk negligee and robe lay on the pure white quilted cover. Did that mean Bakari intended to visit her? A calling card? Goose bumps rose along her arms.
As she put on the fresh clothes, she enjoyed the softness of the silk against her skin. Then she scanned the room noting one camera facing the bed, which probably meant there were others. Undoubtedly there would be mikes as well. She pulled out her cell and sent a coded text message to her friend Chloe, aka Jeremiah. “Coffee, next week.” Which meant, I’m alive and busy. Why did Bakari let her keep a phone? Did he think her that harmless? Maybe, she’d gained his trust. Maybe. She wouldn’t bet her cheekbones on it.
Time to check-out the privy. In the large well-appointed bathroom, she re-read the telephone number Eboni gave her and flushed the piece of paper down the toilet. Throwing cold water on her face woke her up a bit.
She returned to the main room and started her three Salutations to the Sun, a practice she did every night before she slept. Her muscles stiff from the flight stretched out slowly.
As much as she tried to lose her mind in her yoga, it kept slipping back to her situation. Even the evil scum of the earth have reasons for what they do, but never in a million years would she have guessed Bakari’s. His willingness to embrace any karmic r
etribution to save his child melted her. No longer could she consider him simply a mark that needed taking down. Whatever else he’d done in the world, at his center he was a caring father and her heart bled for his misery. She could only imagine how horrible it must be to watch your child die slowly and not be able to do anything about it. She lay down on the floor for Shavasana.
But she couldn’t relax enough to hold the pose. Her lower lip slipped between her teeth. He had to be stopped. Time to focus on the mission. No matter what his reasons were, he had no right to steal from the Met Museum, no right to snatch a heritage piece from the world’s view. She got up and stretched once more.
Sliding the negligee over her head she felt the finely woven silk caress her skin. She ran her hands up her sides and brought them to her breasts teasing whoever manned the camera. Bakari might take a look. Then she doused the light and crawled into the gigantic bed. If only Sebastian could be here to share it with her.
Her eyes were almost closed when the bedroom door opened. She stilled her body and listened. One intruder rustled to her bedside on light feet. After considering her options she sprang up and turned.
Eboni dressed in a black silk gown looked down at her with a hesitant smile.
“I thought you might like company.”
Company—with cameras rolling. Interesting. Sadie sat up with a straight back and pulled the cover to her breasts. “It’s late.”
“You’ve had a long day.” Eboni sat down on the bed and traced Sadie’s cheek lightly with her long delicate fingers. The invitation in her eyes could not be mistaken. Funny, Sadie hadn’t picked up on her interest on the plane.
Sadie pulled back. “I’m sorry if I’ve given the wrong impression. I like men.”
Eboni nodded. “We don’t have to have sex. I could give you a massage, ease your tension, help you sleep.”
“Uh, no… thank you.” Were the men in the security room getting off on this? She leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear. “Did Bakari send you?”
Eboni smiled and whispered back as she trailed light kisses along Sadie’s neck, “He believes all women are bi-sexual.”
“And let me guess. He likes to watch.”
Eboni licked her skin. “Yes, and then he likes to participate.” She leaned back and their eyes connected. Her trembling smile looked both wizened and sad.
Sadie leaned back and turned to face the camera. “Not tonight.”
Eboni nodded and with the elegance of a queen stood up and left the room. Okay, her experience with Bakari had been floating along on her personal creep-meter scale at eight out of ten, now hit fifteen. She may have to sleep not only with Bakari, but with selections from his harem. Orgies really weren’t her thing. The stakes kept going up.
***
Several hours later, the sound of Sadie’s door opening woke her. Dazzling sunlight streamed through the window. She sat up with the cover wrapped around her. The maid from last night walked in with a tray of food. Again no eye contact. Did the woman ever look at anyone? She took the tray from her. One boiled egg, dry sourdough toast, a bowl of strawberries, juice and coffee. Very American, and one of her preferred breakfasts. Bakari had a good research team.
The woman stood beside her bed for a minute as if waiting to be excused.
“Thank you.”
She nodded, her eyes locked on the floor. “You are to be ready to go in and hour. I will bring you more clothes.” That said, the woman turned and scurried away.
***
After eating, quickly showering and slipping into her new clothes Sadie descended the grand staircase at the designated time, feeling like a teleported Scarlett O-Hara. Ready to make her grand entrance with her designer suit, she hesitated at the landing. It wasn’t Bakari waiting for her.
Deadeyes stood at the bottom with an ugly leer on his mouth, smelling foul. Did they serve garlic at breakfast? “Follow me,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
He turned back to look at her and mumbled, “To work.”
Talk about a man of few words. He took the role far too seriously. She looked down at her clothes, a vintage Chanel suit in navy blue. Not her color, but definitely her style. “New York?”
He grunted.
33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Sebastian borrowed a private jet from his friend Joos. Not having the time to explain himself, he took the keys from the hangar where he knew they’d be and claiming to be the owner notified the airport authorities of his flight plans. He had his pilot’s license and often flew with Joos. But never alone.
He’d smooth over the borrowing details with his friend later, preferably before the police were called in. Chances were Joos would stay in the French Riviera another week with his new lover and be none the wiser. It might cost him a painting, but it would give his friend a good story.
Once he got the plane cruising at a good altitude and had the wings level, he let himself breathe normally. He’d catch up with Sadie. Four hours later he landed safely in Cairo. All in all, a successful flight.
He grabbed a taxi and headed to Bakari al-Sharif’s palace. The friggen place looked big enough to house an army. Morning sunlight glowed on its stone pillars. Definitely the kind of place to impress a woman. He grumbled. Somewhere inside this cavernous monolith Sadie would be trying to wield her spy-magic. He didn’t like her odds, not one bit. The man was a seasoned criminal and as dark as they come. The thought of him touching her body wrenched his gut.
In the early morning heat, he walked the perimeter noting cameras and guards everywhere. Guess that’s one thing about being in the arms business, guns came cheap and easy.
When he returned to the entrance, the gate opened and a black suburban with tinted windows motored through. He stared hard at the windows, but could see nothing, until one rolled down and Sadie looked out. He caught her gaze and held it like a precious gem. Her eyes glanced off him and looked into the distance. He was being dismissed. Or warned.
Watching the rear end of the car motor down the road, he firmed his jaw. He couldn’t just let her go. He phoned Xander.
“Tell me you’re not in Cairo.” His friend’s voice sounded flat.
“Have you learned anything more about Bakari al-Sharif?”
“Like I told you last night. He’s supposed to be in his home in Cairo.” Xander stopped talking and muttered to someone else. Then he said, “Seamus wants to talk to you.”
The Interpol agent’s thick Scottish accent rumbled through the phone. “The man is in the international arms business. He’s deadly and unpredictable. Don’t mess with him.”
Nothing new. “Do you know his itinerary?”
Silence.
Seb twisted his stiff neck. “An asshole like that must have someone watching him. Tell me. Do you know what his plans are for this week? Can you find out?”
“Sebastian, I know you like this woman.”
Jezus Christus, the mighty Seamus had turned on his therapist voice. And it sucked big-time. Tall burly guys who drink a lot of beer and made loud farts shouldn’t try such shit. Interpol must have made him take a sensitivity course. “Seamus, a little help would be nice.”
“The guy rips people apart. Seriously. The severed head of his third wife was found last month in the dessert. And they say he liked that one.”
Seb’s stomach twisted. Sadie had left out that detail. She’d told him the man had a violent and volatile nature and that people got hurt around him. She’d mentioned severed body parts, but not his wife’s fucking head. What else had she not told him? Her long list of secrets could get irritating. Through clenched teeth he said, “All the more reason to take him down.”
“On your own? Buddy you’re out of your mind.”
“I have reason to believe he’s collecting ancient Egyptian artifacts. I want grab the asshole.” Seb’s anger rose like molten lava burning through his system. Sweat poured off his face. He wanted to bust up something bad. The rising heat of the Egypt
ian day didn’t help.
“Artifacts? You didn’t mention that before.” Xander was back on the line. “What aren’t you telling us?”
“A lot. He’s a geten neuker.” Sebastian looked down the empty road. He needed to keep calm for Sadie’s sake. Needed to be focused. The heat of the sun made the air shimmer.
“Goat fucker,” Xander translated for Seamus, though the man probably knew how to say the two words in every European language.
“Seb how can we help you?” Xander said.
“What the fuck,” Seamus swore in the background. “It’s suicide. If you’re truly his friend you’ll tell him to come home.”
“Seb?” Xander repeated.
“I’m in Cairo and I’m heading to New York. Don’t ask me how or why. I’ll call you when I land. If you learn anything about the man and his connections in that city, forward it to me.”
“New York?”
“The big apple.” Seb clicked off. Enough words. He needed to move.
His gut churned. Could he get to Sadie in time? He could feel danger heading her way like a wave about to engulf her. That feeling came all at once with a certainty he couldn’t deny. You could call it a sixth sense. Whatever. He just knew he had to get to her, and he knew he’d follow her to the ends of the earth if need be.
Damn the Geiten neuker.
34
Chapter Thirty-Four
New York
Bakari paced back and forth in his New York City apartment. He couldn’t sit and listen one minute longer.
His brother Chasisi sat in a white leather chair smoking a foul cigarillo that stunk like bad cabbage. He’d replaced his peasant robe with an Armani business suit. Below his furrowed brow he had the same black eyes as his brother and they watched him closely. “Bakari you must listen to reason.”
“You want me to kill Sadie.”
“For your own good. She’s trouble. You don’t have to do it yourself. Just say the word and it will be done. You do not need to watch her die.”
Covert Danger Page 18
