“That depends on what this friend looks like.”
Ajmal described Baahir perfectly.
An awkward silence hung over them as the vendor contemplated his question.
“No, I’m sorry — I haven’t seen anyone who fits that description.”
Baahir looked up and watched her eyes go wide. He couldn’t see Ajmal, but Baahir guessed he was giving the woman a look that could rust iron. He was attempting to intimidate her without the use of force.
Thankfully, there were too many people around from him to
Then the shadow on her face vanished. Baahir could hear heavy footsteps fade as Ajmal left.
She waved him off but spoke to Baahir through gritted teeth. “You owe me, big time.”
“Name’s Baahir.”
“I don’t care what—”
“And you are?” he asked, wearing the cheesiest grin he could muster. He hoped it was coming across as a ‘cute, harmless gentleman.’
Her nostrils flared. “Durah, but—”
“Well, Durah,” he said. “How about a fancy dinner and a movie?”
She paused, then snorted out a laugh and crossed her arms. “You are unbelievable.”
“
She didn’t speak.
Durah simply held out an open hand that he took to mean ‘stay down.’ It was low enough on her leg that only Baahir would be able to see it. Crunching footfalls announced the arrival of someone familiar, but as soon as they started towards him, they faded away again. Ajmal was still on the prowl.
The Kenyan glared down at Baahir, once again looking furious for being put in a position such as this.
Baahir could do nothing else except stay hidden beneath her table. For good measure, he held up three fingers, silently increasing his offer.
To his delight, Durah didn’t kick him in the ribs or stomp on his hand. Instead, the corner of her mouth curled into a smile, and she shook her head and rolled her eyes. Then, the vendor got back to work, and left Baahir to himself.
She coaxed him out of hiding sometime later.
“I believe your friend is gone. I have not seen him in a while.”
Slowly, Baahir poked his head out from below the table and scanned the surrounding area. He waited and watched, not seeing Ajmal anywhere, either. He groaned, and crawled out on his hands and knees. Durah helped him up, then handed him a bottle of water. Baahir was struggling physically, and was tired and thirsty.
“About our deal…” she began.
Baahir took a long pull from the bottle and nodded. He swallowed and recapped the drink. “I don’t have any money.”
The Kenyan let loose with a string of what Baahir guessed were curses in her native tongue. He held up his hands. “But… I
“You were scout?”
“Actually, no — but I promise to keep my word.”
The vendor huffed out an annoyed breath. “Fine. Two dinners. With drinks.” She started to turn away but was stopped.
“Make it three.” He grinned.
Durah could only roll her eyes.
“One more thing,” he said sheepishly.
She locked eyes with Baahir, but didn’t speak.
“Do you have a phone I could borrow?”
She looked like she was about to hit him over the head with one of her wares, but finally relented. “Baahir…” she handed him a phone. “Did I mention that I am
There was no way of telling how much time had passed, and Ifza didn’t, honestly, care. Her brother had betrayed her and left her to die at the hand of their enemy. She had been loyal and had killed so many in the name of Anubis.
What did it bring her now?
Her head dipped as stared at the concrete floor.
Suddenly, two men rushed inside and forced a sack onto her head before she could identify who they were. One unshackled her while the other held her in place while pressing the muzzle of a gun to her temple. She was re-cuffed behind her back and dragged forward. Ifza wasn’t given the option to walk.
They brought her to a flight of stairs and hauled her up them. The tips of her shoes bounced off every single one. A heavy door shut somewhere behind her, and she was tossed to the ground.
“Don’t move, or you’ll be shot!” a man yelled. She did as she was told, and laid still, listening as a pair of feet faded into the distance of the grand room. The high ceilings and hard floors echoed every movement, clueing her into the extensiveness of the space around her.
As soon as the pair’s footfalls disappeared, a new sound emerged from straight ahead. More footsteps, but not the same people who had just left her. Those men had gone off to the left.
There were more of them, too. They yelled and ordered each other to spread out and secure the suspect — Ifza.
If she had to guess, she was about to be arrested by local police. She was lifted to her knees and was freed of the heavy head covering, squinting against the light. Ifza found herself inside the main warehouse of the Suez Shipping Company, and she was alone except for the ten police officers that now surrounded her.
