No Living Soul

by Julie Moffett

  “Oh.” I glanced at my phone, but there was no text and no message. “Okay. He knows how to reach us if he needs us.”

  We walked to the restaurant which was about a block away. Apparently being with Zizi had its advantages. We were seated immediately after she flashed a smile and some leg at the maître d’.

  Zizi provided some menu recommendations, so we ordered food and drink. Since no one else was talking, I decided I needed to get the ball rolling.

  “So, Arthur, by any chance do you know a guy named Merhu Khalfani?”

  Arthur blinked in surprise. “How do you know him?”

  “I don’t know him, per se. He just broke into Elvis’s house, tied us up and almost shot my kneecaps looking for the letter and spores you sent Elvis.”

  To his credit, he looked shocked. “My God, I knew he was involved in this.”

  “Involved in what?” Elvis asked.

  “Mr. Khalfani worked at the British Museum. He was a shifty character, always nosy and snooping around me. Anyway, the inscriptions I found and translated in the cave in Jordan led me to a stone tablet located in the Egyptian section of the museum. In turn, it provided an important clue to the discovery of the artifact I was seeking. One of the inscriptions in my caves gave me the insight to realize the import of the reference on the tablet. Only I was able to put the pieces together. After I’d left for Cairo, I heard he’d been fired for handling the same stone tablet without museum permission. It wasn’t a coincidence. He was onto me.”

  “Is that why you disappeared?” I asked.

  “Partly.” He paused while the waiter brought us our drinks. As soon as he walked away, Arthur resumed. “You see, all these years I’ve been following a trail of clues—all leading to what promised to be an archeological find of historical and religious significance to sixty percent of the world’s population. The quest for this artifact required me to piece together clues from three continents. And I did it. It’s been decades of dedicated scholarship, but my work has paid off. Finally, I will be recognized among the pantheon of elite archeologists. Here’s the most exciting part—I’ve even held the artifact in my hands. In doing so, I found and solved a puzzle on it that allowed me to recover a treasure unseen since before Moses parted the Red Sea. But there are many others who lack my knowledge and who are trying to steal my discovery from me at my moment of greatest triumph.”

  My phone vibrated and I saw I had a text from Slash asking where we were. I typed in the name of the restaurant and the general location, figuring he’d find it easy enough.

  “Arthur, we can’t help you because you aren’t sharing details,” Zizi cajoled. I could hear the irritation in her voice. “You can’t expect us to see those spores as anything but dangerous.”

  Elvis nodded, leaning forward on the table. “If nothing else, you have to tell us where they are.”

  Arthur sighed and reached into his pocket, withdrawing a sturdy leather pouch and setting it on the table. We all stared at it like it was a bomb.

  “That’s not what I think it is, is it?” Elvis asked.

  Arthur ran his fingers across the pouch. “Unfortunately, yes. It’s the rest of the spores.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  A hand clamped down on my shoulder and I nearly jumped out of my chair. Slash slid into a chair next to me.

  “I’ve got bad news,” he said. “We can’t go back to Arthur’s hostel. It’s being watched.”

  “What?” Elvis exclaimed. “By whom?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How is that possible?” Gwen asked. “There was no one watching when we were trying to spot Arthur. Or was there?”

  “Who is he again?” Arthur pointed at Slash.

  “A friend,” Elvis said firmly. “But if Slash says we can’t go back, we can’t.”

  Arthur took the leather pouch with the spores, returning it to his pocket. “I have to go back my room. My laptop is still there.”

  “What about your notes?” Zizi asked.

  “They’re on the laptop, too, along with the material Gwen just loaded.”

  Slash looked around the table at us. “First priority. We need to find a safe place to stash Arthur.”

  “And the spores,” Gwen added. “He’s got them in his pocket.”

  “Where they are perfectly and safely contained,” Arthur insisted. “I do have a Bachelor’s Degree in Applied Science, not to mention a PhD in Egyptology. I’m a scientist. The spores are contained. Trust me.”

  Considering we were talking a plague of epidemic proportions, I wasn’t reassured by his personal guarantees. But we had more pressing problems at the moment.

  Slash gave me a look that said he was not on board with any of this whatsoever. I fully agreed. But first things first.

  “Can’t we just take Arthur back to the Marriott with us?” Gwen asked.

  “No.” Slash shook his head. “Arthur would have to use his passport to enter and then once there, anyone who wanted to could find him.”

  “But the security...” Gwen said.

  “Is good, but not impenetrable. If the goal is to keep Arthur’s whereabouts a secret until he leads us to the artifact, the Marriott is too high profile.”

  “They may have already spotted us with him,” I said.

  “I know. Which is why we need to disappear for a bit, too. Zizi, do you think you could find us all temporary quarters somewhere that wouldn’t require our passports?”

  “What?” Gwen looked disappointed. “We have to leave the Marriott?”

  “For now.”

  “Figures. It was a pretty sweet setup.”

  “I have an idea where we can take Arthur and where you can all stay safely.” Zizi stood up.

  “Good.” Slash pointed at us. “You all go with Zizi. Once you find a place, text me the address.”

  I looked at him in surprise. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to get Arthur’s computer.”

  “Alone?”

  “Alone.” He held out a hand to Arthur. “The key to your room, please?”

  Arthur stared at Slash and then turned to Elvis. “Why should I trust him? I don’t even know him. How long have you known him? He could be with them, and making this all up just to steal my laptop.”

  Slash was working hard to contain himself. I saw the twitch of his jaw, which meant he was probably clenching his teeth. Even though Arthur hadn’t spoken to him directly, Slash said, “If I’d wanted your laptop, sir, I would have taken it as soon as you led us into your room.”

  “But you wouldn’t have had my password.”

  “I don’t need your password to get into your computer.”

  Elvis rolled his neck as if that could ease the tension of the moment. It didn’t. “For God’s sake, he’s telling the truth, Arthur. Give him the key.”

  “Only if you go with him. I don’t know him, but I know you. You’re my son. You wouldn’t steal from your father.”

  “No one is going to steal anything.” Elvis’s voice had taken on a hard edge. “Need I remind you, we’re here to help. Slash is my friend. And I’m staying with you. No way am I letting you out of my sight until this is finished.”

  I stood, offering a compromise. “I’ll go with Slash.” Truthfully, I needed my own break from Arthur Zimmerman.

  To my surprise, Arthur agreed. “Elvis said you’re his best friend. If you go with Slash and promise to return my laptop to me, he can have the key.”

  I glanced at Slash, but his lips were still pressed together tightly. He said nothing. At least he didn’t argue and his hand hadn’t moved. It remained steady and stretched out to Arthur for the key.

  I glanced uneasily between Slash and Elvis. Neither was looking my way. They were both staring daggers at Arthur. �
�Um, I promise. So, ah, okay, it’s settled, then. Right?”

  Arthur remained focused on me for some strange reason. “I’m holding you personally responsible for having my laptop returned to me. Are we clear, young lady?”

  “Perfectly.” At this point, I wasn’t going to argue semantics with him.

  Arthur reached in his pocket and handed a silver key to Slash. “I hope you all understand why I’m not telling you everything. Without me and my knowledge, none of the pieces you have will come together. You need me and my research and that’s the way I intend to keep it until I can reveal my discovery to the world.”

  Without a word Slash pocketed the key and strode to the restaurant door. I ran to catch up.

  “So, what’s the plan?” I asked as we left the restaurant.

  “The plan is I have to stop imagining the six different ways I’m torturing Arthur Zimmerman in my mind and focus on the task at hand.”

  “I’m with you on that one. I feel sorry for Elvis. Xavier, too.”

  We walked back toward the hostel. Slash came to a stop on the sidewalk across the street. People and animals streamed past, no one giving us the time of day. “See that guy over there in the gray shirt and black pants? The one with sunglasses and a blue cap?”

  I followed his line of vision and saw the person he described. The guy was walking back and forth, staring at the hostel entrance and talking on his cell. “Yeah, I see him.”

  “Good. Look to the left now. See the guy with the red T-shirt and khaki shorts?”

  I did. He was a pretty muscular guy. He was talking on his phone, as well. He was closer to the entrance, as if planning to stop anyone who exited.

  “My guess is they have someone in the back and someone on the inside trying to figure out which room is Arthur’s. It won’t take them long to pinpoint it.”

  “How can you be sure they are looking for Arthur?”

  “Because I noticed them immediately. They are watching the place. So, I maneuvered behind the guy talking on the cell and heard him say Arthur’s name. Not exactly professional, which leads me to think they are a bunch of thugs along the line of Merhu Khalfani.”

  “Why are they trying to find Arthur?”

  “There are a number of possible scenarios, none of them good. Especially since Mr. Khalfani was armed and ready to shoot people to get his hands on the spores.”

  “Agreed. What are we going to do?”

  He pulled me into a space between buildings, trapping me against the wall, then started unbuttoning my blouse.

  “What in the world are you doing?” I asked.

  “You’ve got a tank under the blouse, right?”

  “Yes, but...” Before I could finish, he unbuttoned the rest of my blouse and slid it off my shoulders.

  “Drape it over your arm.” He bent down toward my feet.

  I frowned, but did as he said. Still, I felt half-naked in just my tank top and I hadn’t put suntan lotion on my shoulders or back, so I hoped this new look wasn’t going to be for long.

  Suddenly there was a ripping noise and my legs felt a rush of air.

  “Hey, what was that?” I yelped, looking down.

  Slash straightened, holding most of my skirt in one hand and a pocketknife with small scissors in the other. “I think it’s short enough.”

  “Why did you do that?” I peered over my shoulder. “I think my butt is showing.”

  “Perfect.” He snapped the pocketknife shut and then released my hair from its ponytail, spreading it about my shoulders.

  Stepping back, he surveyed me. “You look more cute than sleazy, but it will have to do. Try to wiggle your hips a lot when you walk.”

  “What?”

  He motioned to the hotel entrance. “Haven’t you noticed the clientele going in and out of the hostel?”

  I glanced over at the entrance. I’d been watching it all morning and hadn’t noticed anything unusual. But now that I paid more attention, there were more couples going in than coming out.

  “Wait. Are you saying Arthur is staying in a brothel?”

  “I don’t know if it’s a brothel proper, but if the shoe fits...”

  “They have brothels in Cairo?”

  “There are brothels everywhere, cara.”

  “Oh. Okay, I guess I just never thought about it. I see where you’re going with this. You want me to pose as a prostitute and you’re going to be my john. We’re going into the hostel to have sex.”

  He chuckled. “Unfortunately there will be no sex this time. But if we’re going to stroll into the hostel and look like we belong there, this look is a good idea.”

  He took off his jacket and put it over his arm and pulled a black cap out of the pocket. He turned the bill of the cap around so it was on backward.

  “Those guys may have spotted us earlier when we weren’t looking for anyone looking at us. This should change up our look enough that we can get in and out without raising suspicion or having anyone follow us to Arthur’s door.” He hooked his sunglasses on the front of his T-shirt and voila, he had a totally different look. It was amazing to me how he could so effortlessly change his appearance without doing much.

  “Well, I’d feel a lot better about this charade if my butt wasn’t showing.”

  He turned me around. “It’s not showing...completely.” He grinned. “Although I may have cut it a bit short.”

  I hit him on the arm. “You did it on purpose.” I straightened, trying to suck in my stomach in hope it would provide a tiny bit more material to cover my rear. “The things I do in the name of national security.”

  He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Ah, cara, welcome to my world.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The walk from across the street to the hostel was the longest of my life. It felt like every eye in Cairo was on my butt, even if it wasn’t. It was probably one of the most self-conscious moments in my life, and I’d had many. Slash had his arm around my waist, clearly indicating I was with him, but it was uncomfortable to say the least. I was pretty sure this wasn’t a common look for Cairo, even if it might not have been an unusual sight in front of this particular hostel in the middle of the day.

  “You’re waddling like a duck,” Slash said out of the corner of his mouth. “Sashay. Use your hips.”

  “You trying walking in a skirt this short,” I hissed. “And we’ll see who looks like a duck.”

  He smiled and we strolled into the lobby. It was packed with guys and a few girls strolling around talking to them. He headed straight for the stairs and to the second floor. A guy exited room 210 fastening his pants. He looked our way and gave a thumbs-up to Slash. I tried not to throw up.

  We reached room 202 and Slash inserted the key. He motioned for me to wait in the hallway and pushed open the door. A quick glance indicated no one was there. The laptop still sat on the small desk.

  I came in, closing the door behind me. Slash unhooked the laptop from the electrical cable and bent to one knee, looking under the bed. He dragged out a soft laptop bag and slid the computer inside.

  “Check the desk drawer for any important papers,” he instructed.

  I opened the drawer and pulled out a passport, some other loose papers and a gun. I held the gun out to Slash.

  “Look at what Arthur was hiding.”

  Slash rolled his eyes and tucked it in his waistband at the small of his back. He took the papers, passport, and cables I handed him, stuffing them in the bag as well.

  I quickly checked the dresser drawers, but found only clothes and more toiletries.

  “There’s nothing else here.” Slash looped the laptop bag across his shoulder and then put on his jacket. “Let’s go.”

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. I was all for getting the heck out of th
is place. He opened the door and we stepped out into the hall just as a guy walked down the hall directly toward us.

  Slash pulled me toward him and starting noisily kissing me on the neck. I was so surprised by his actions I nearly tripped, but it occurred to me that he wanted the guy to think we belonged there, just part of the scenery.

  Not knowing what a prostitute would do in such a situation, I did the first thing I could think of. I licked the side of his face. It was more like a dog lick than a sexy, prostitute lick, but as I wasn’t practiced at either, I did the best I could in the heat of the moment.

  I tried not to wince since the guy looked more freaked out than turned on by my licking. He passed us—giving us as wide a berth as he could—stopping in front of Room 202. He glanced at the number on the door and then at us before he made the connection we’d just left that room.

  Thankfully we were already at the stairs.

  “Hey!” he yelled, followed by something in Arabic. Slash yanked on my arm as we flew down the stairs.

  Instead of going out the way we’d come in, Slash pushed me toward the back door. We pushed through people who gave us annoyed looks as we slipped out the back entrance.

  A guy with a black shirt, black pants and a cell phone across the way spotted us as soon as we exited. He shouted something, shoved his cell in his pocket and started running our way.

  Slash already had a plan. About five feet away a delivery guy had just pulled up on a motorcycle in front of a door and was carrying a box toward an unmarked entrance at the rear of the building. Slash ran in that direction with me hot on his heels.

  He swung his leg over the motorcycle and took hold of the handlebars. “Get on.”

  I hesitated. “I don’t see any helmets.”

  “Get on or we’re dead.”

  “If you put it like that.” I had barely even swung my leg over the motorcycle when Slash took off. I caught his waist with my hands as I lurched backward, barely hanging on. My skirt was hitched up to my waist, which meant my undies were on full display. Not like that was the most pressing of my problems, but there you have it.