by Rene Fomby
Gavin reached in and pulled out a wad of Tunisian dinars and handed them over, fully cognizant of the rifle in Boss man’s right hand and several more just a few feet away at his back. And also painfully aware that Andy was extremely vulnerable at the moment, and there was very little he could do to protect her if these guys decided to have a little fun. “That’s it. That’s all we got. You guys happy now?”
Boss man was smiling, counting out the money he had collected and shoving the cash and the cards into a pocket of his jacket. “Yes. Thank you for your cooperation. Enjoy your stay in Tunisia.” He signaled for his men to pull back, and they all returned to their trucks, the one called Karim pausing for a second to give Andy one last sleazy look and blow her a kiss. Gavin finally began to relax. It was over, and other than being dead broke out in the middle of the desert with no ID, they were going to be okay. Then he jumped as Boss Man casually leaned out of the truck and, lifting up the AK-47, quickly fired off two shots, putting a hole in each of the Jeep’s front tires. And just as quickly they were gone, headed back toward the road block in a swirling cloud of sand and dust.
Gavin sucked in a deep breath and leaned in through the window. “You okay, Andy?”
“Just peachy, really. Nice group of fellows, especially Don Juan. I think he could teach a graduate course in creepy.” She shook her head slightly, as if she could shake the memory of the entire incident out of her mind. Gavin opened his door and crawled in to sit beside her, facing out the front window, apparently lost in thought. “By the way, Gavin, that was a great job you pulled off with those guys, keeping things level and calm. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “The FBI doesn’t exactly train us to lie down and let people run over us like that. But we both got out of it alive and intact, and I guess that’s all that really matters.”
Andy nodded. “Except that now we’re stuck out in the middle of nowhere with two flat tires and only one spare. So unless someone comes along soon, we’re looking at a long trek by foot back to Bir Lahmar in the midday heat. I can’t wait to get started.”
“Oh, that’s actually not a problem.” He hooked a thumb toward the back of the car. “When I rented the Jeep I picked up a couple cans of Fix-a-Flat, just in case. Should be enough to keep the second tire inflated long enough to get us to Tataouine. The real problem is what we’re gonna do when we get there. With no money and no ID, we’re kind of like dead fish in the water.” He looked over and saw Andy grinning at him. “What’s so funny?”
“You know, when they told me I’d have to bring you along as a partner for this mission, I really pushed back on it. I mean, the real reason you’re here in the first place is for situations exactly like the one we just faced, where a single women, no matter how talented and well trained, is exposed to unique dangers men simply skate by on. So I had to bring along a token man for the trip. But, the thing is, we really do make a pretty good team, G, you and me. I would never have thought to pick up something to fix a flat. Not that I can’t change a tire in a pinch if I had to, but it’s just not something I think about on a day to day basis. Ninety nine percent of the time, I get a flat, I just call Triple A and the problem gets solved. But you look at the world a little differently than I do, you plan for a completely different set of contingencies. And on a crazy thrown-together mission like this one, that can make all the difference. You know that little peashooter you’ve got taped up under the dash, your little insurance policy?”
Gavin nodded, unsure of where she was going with all this.
She pointed to her overnight case, now sitting completely empty in the back of the Jeep. “Well, I brought along some extra insurance, too. It’s just Spycraft 101, the oldest trick in the book. The overnight bag has a false bottom. Extra money, cards and ID, just sitting there tucked away for a special occasion like this.”
For the first time since the trucks had shown up on the road in front of them, Gavin managed a smile. “Well, Heather dear, all this time I’ve known you, and you still find a way to surprise me.”
“And it makes a girl feel real good inside, my dearest Harley, that your sweet little wife can still surprise you after all this time.” She leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. “So, tell you what, you get started with the manly tire changing thing and I’ll see what I can do about getting all the clothes folded up and packed away again. God, do I hate doing laundry!”
The kiss, as innocent as it was, had taken him completely by surprise, and Gavin sat stunned for a moment as he watched her bound out of the passenger seat and start to gather up their clothes from the side of the road. Finally he brushed it off, and, whistling a little to himself, climbed out to hunt down the tire jack and get their car back on the road. He noticed that his shirt was already soaked through from the heat. And, glancing once more in Andy’s direction as she swiftly filled her arms with all their belongings, he noticed that his shirt wasn’t the only one that was quickly becoming transparent. All of a sudden he didn’t mind the heat quite so much.
43
Tataouine, Tunisia
“I’ll have to give it to you, Gavin. Those oversized sand tires really came in handy.” Andy was checking her map as they drove into town, looking for directions to the Wilaya—the Governor’s Office—where they would hopefully be able to con their way into snagging the paperwork that would then get them past the guards at the military base at Remada.
Gavin glanced over at her briefly, then back to the road. Even in underpopulated Tataouine, the locals couldn’t be trusted not to dart out directly in front of the Jeep. And, as usual, animals were wandering around everywhere. “You still not going to rib me about sliding backwards down that sand dune? I almost messed my pants at that one. I thought for sure we were gonna tip over and end up buried hopelessly in the sand. Lost, until some adventurer a thousand years from now discovered our mummified bodies.”
“Yeah, well. That wasn’t one of your best moments,” she agreed. “But I just chalked it up to ‘man driving.’ I told you I should have taken the wheel after we got robbed.”
“Right. Like you could have done any better. I got us here, didn’t I?” Andy pointed to the left and Gavin turned into a narrow little alleyway, after artfully dodging a dirty white goat that was weaving down the middle of the road.
Andy snorted, looking back briefly to make sure they hadn’t hit the goat. “You and the GPS got us here. And God bless the GPS. I was completely turned around out there in the desert. I don’t know how the old Bedouins managed to find their way from one oasis to another.”
“I think the camels had a lot to do with it,” Gavin suggested. “You’ve seen the noses on those beasts. They can probably smell water from a thousand miles away.”
“And we can just as easily smell them from a thousand miles away, even with our puny noses. Nasty little creatures. But taking a detour into the desert was a good idea. Even after those guys closed up shop and headed back down the road, I don’t think I would have wanted a repeat performance, particularly with the way Don Juan was eyeballing me the first time. I get the feeling that sex out here is about as common as Lipton’s iced tea.” They were emerging from the alley into an open town square of sorts, and Andy stopped to point out a large building about a block away.
“No,” he corrected her, turning that way. “In Rabat, sex is as common as iced tea. Out here I would imagine the odds are far worse, more like the odds of killing a grizzly bear with a rock. Which, by the way, I’ve actually done.”
Andy gave him a hard look as he pulled the Jeep to a stop in front of the building. She wasn’t all that sure whether he was kidding, or whether he’d actually done it. Killed a bear with a rock. And his stoic face wasn’t giving up any clues to the answer.
“Okay, Andy, any idea which door leads to the Wilaya?” Gavin was staring at an odd collection of dozens of cave-like mud huts, seemingly piled one on top of the other with no discernable plan or pattern. St
one steps led up to the third level in a lean-to fashion, leaving room underneath that a grown man could easily walk under without ducking. Presumably the second and fourth levels were accessible from stairs inside the structure. The first floor appeared to be sunk down into the ground, as if it had melted slightly, and each level above appeared a little on the short side, like they were meant for a race of midgets. Only a handful of the openings had any kind of covering, and even then only one of the doorways had anything remotely resembling a door, the rest simply covered up with a rough slab or two of wood. Gnarled sticks jutted out from the mud walls here and there for no apparent reason.
Andy noticed him staring at the odd building rising before them. “It’s called troglodyte construction, just like the hotel in Matmata, except not painted.” She hopped out of the Jeep and headed in the direction of the one solid door. “Looks like a bunch of cavemen live here, because that’s pretty much what it is. Cave dwellings. May not be much to look at, but as you may remember from the hotel, all the rock and mud keep the place pretty well insulated, just like real caves. It’s a style of architecture that goes back many thousands of years.”
Gavin stared up at the stone steps leaning awkwardly against the third story wall, shaking his head. “Hmph. Quite a stretch calling this ‘architecture.’ And I’m glad the office is on the ground floor, ‘cause I’m not so sure I’d want to risk climbing around way up there.” He walked over to join her in front of the door, which was itself barely more sophisticated than the plain wooden boards blocking the other openings. The word “Waliya” was painted on the wall beside it in loose script, beneath a string of Arabic letters he assumed said the same thing.
Andy smiled at him as she pushed the door open. “So you’d rather be way down here when all of this comes tumbling down on top of your head? Sounds like Hobson’s choice to me.” She chuckled as Gavin hesitated visibly before entering the building. “Come on, silly. As they say, in for a penny, in for a pound.”
“They also say that haste makes waste. And I’d have to stay pretty well wasted to spend much time in one of these run-down huts.”
“Shhh—we have an audience,” Andy warned him, jerking her head toward the back corner of the room, where a government official of some sort in a threadbare dark suit was seated behind an ancient wooden desk, its wood looking like it had been carved by the same carpenter who had fashioned the door they had just come through.
The man behind the desk sized them up and quickly determined they were American. “Hallo, hallo. Welcome to Tataouine. How may I help you today?”
Gavin took the lead as Andy lingered a respectable distance behind him. “Yes, thank you. We are Americans, here in Tunisia on our honeymoon—”
“Ah, and such a lovely looking couple, too. An excellent choice, coming to see my country! Still an unspoiled beauty, not ruined by tourism yet. You get to see her as visitors have for many thousands of years. By the way, I am Hamdi, at your service.”
“Harley. Harley Embree. And this is my wife Heather.” Andy gave Hamdi a bashful smile as Gavin stuck out his hand for a hearty shake.
Hamdi had risen from his seat to shake Gavin’s hand, and was now leaning slightly forward over the desk, at Gavin’s eye level. But shifting a quick glance every now and then in Andy’s direction. “So, Mr. Embree, what brings you all the way down to Tataouine? Are you here to see all of the Star Wars movie sets?”
“Well, yes, I guess I wouldn’t be much of an American if I came all the way out here and failed to take in at least a few of the sites. We spent last night in Matmata …” Gavin moved almost imperceptibly to his left, giving Hamdi a better view of Andy, who was herself moving around the room coquettishly, bending over strategically to examine various items scattered about the office. Hamdi’s eyes continued to dart back and forth between Gavin and the tempting sight of Andy’s well-shaped buttocks. Although getting the permits to travel into the military sector should be largely a done deal, Gavin wasn’t leaving anything to chance, and using Andy’s many womanly assets certainly couldn’t help but grease the wheels of bureaucratic commerce.
“Yes, yes, I take it you visited my cousin Ali at the Hôtel Sidi Driss?” Hamdi asked.
“Indeed we did!” Gavin answered brightly. “What a very nice man. And such a lovely and talented wife. I think her ojja may now be my very favorite dish from this part of the world. Absolutely delightful!”
“Yes, cousin Ali has done well for himself. And if you’re staying overnight here in Tataouine, may I recommend the Hotel Mabrouk? Ask for Oussama. He will give you a very special rate.”
“Oussama. I’ll remember that. Thank you. And yes, I think we’ll want to stay over tonight before heading south into the desert first thing in the morning.” Andy had given up trolling around the room and rejoined Gavin, linking her left arm through his right. “Heather, here, is a professor of biology at the university back home. She specializes in unique insect life, and she tells me there’s a fascinating ant that makes its home out in the Sahara just south of Remada. Well, fascinating to her.”
Andy made a show of slugging him playfully on the arm. “Don’t make fun of my work. At least it beats being a CPA like you. Talk about b-o-r-i-n-g!”
“Now, now, Heather,” Gavin retorted. “There’s nothing at all boring about calculating accelerated depreciation and allocating capital reserves. That’s the stuff American commerce runs on. Without CPAs to sort everything out, business would simply grind to a halt.”
Hamdi had watched the back and forth banter in humored silence, but decided it was now time to get down to business. “So, you need a permit to head out into the desert?”
Gavin made a show of reluctantly turning his attention away from Andy and back to Hamdi. “Yes, exactly. I understand that the only way we can travel into the military exclusion zone is by securing the proper permits from your office.”
Hamdi smiled, displaying an irregular and yellowed set of teeth. “Yes, that is no problem. I will just need your passports and get you to fill out a little paperwork, and I can have the permits ready for you as early as this afternoon. Of course, normally the process takes several days, so expediting the permits will require a small fee …”
Gavin nodded enthusiastically. “Fantastic! Yes, this afternoon would be perfect. We can get checked in to the hotel and cool off a bit from our trip across the desert. So, how much do I owe you?”
Hamdi sized him up again, then pulled a piece of paper off a stack of white Post-it notes and scribbled “125” across it, handing the note to Gavin. “That will be one hundred twenty-five dinar. And I can have someone deliver the permits to your hotel as soon as they are ready if you wish.”
Gavin did the conversion quickly in his head. One hundred twenty-five dinar came to a little more than fifty bucks. A complete rip-off, especially since the permits were supposed to be free, but since Uncle Sam was picking up the tab, he figured it didn’t hurt to play along. And it probably added up to pretty much this guy’s entire monthly income, so spreading some good old-fashioned American goodwill around wasn’t the worst idea in the world. He reached into his pocket and fished out a small wad of bills, turning slightly to keep the money well out of sight of Hamdi’s greedy eyes. Sorting out the correct amount, he shoved the rest of the money back into his trousers pocket before turning to hand the cash over the desk to the bureaucrat. “That sounds terrific, sir. We really appreciate your help. Heather has been going on and on about seeing this ant our entire trip, and I can’t imagine how disappointed she would have been if she didn’t at least get a chance to look for it out in the desert.” Beside him, Andy gave him a beaming look and leaned over to plant a peck on Gavin’s cheek.
“Shukran. My pleasure,” Hamdi answered, his eyes now rarely leaving Andy’s face and breasts. “Let me get the paperwork for you.”
In less than thirty minutes, Gavin and Andy had finished filling out the necessary forms and were headed over to the Hotel Mabrouk to ch
eck in. From the outside, the hotel was pretty unimpressive, a low-slung one-story stone building with a large white sign over the door proclaiming “Hotel Marbrouk Perle De Desert” in French and Arabic. They entered through the double doors and into a reasonably attractive lobby. Oussama was already stationed at the check-in desk and did, in fact, give them a special rate—eighty dollars a night including all meals, only double the normal rate that Andy had pulled up on her phone.
The room was clean and comfortable even if it was somewhat austere, a king-sized bed covered in a simple blue-and-white comforter, with a matching little couchette sprawling underneath a window that looked out over the back side of the building. Andy was exhausted from the long trip across the open desert and the experience of being robbed at gunpoint, so she decided to lie down for a short nap while Gavin took a stroll, checking out the hotel.
One thing Hamdi had failed to mention about the hotel was that it was located well over two kilometers from the main part of Tataouine, so without a car to get back and forth, a tourist would be stuck on a virtual island out in the desert. But the hotel was clean enough, and had a restaurant and a small bar. Gavin headed for the bar and ordered a beer.
“I am sorry, sir,” the waiter explained. “But we cannot sell beer these days. Particularly today, a Friday. It is forbidden.”
“Excuse me? I thought alcohol was legal in Tunisia.” Gavin was completely confused. Just the night before in Matmata, he and Andy had tried a couple bottles each of the Tunisian brewed European-style pale lager called Celtia. And it wasn’t all that bad, once they had poured it out into a glass and let it sit for a few minutes to let the skunky smell fade away. But now he’s being told that beer is forbidden?
