I made a grab for the dagger as it fell from his hands. I missed and it slipped under the seats. This was no time to try to find it.
The other Rif, the tall one, was only a few feet from me and I saw him hesitate, wondering who to go after.
I made up his mind for him by moving toward him.
He turned on me, drawing his own dagger.
Beyond him, I saw Karminian’s form catapulting seats and racing down aisles, eluding the other Rifs.
I jumped two seats into one of the aisles and raced for the exit when I heard Marina scream. I’d lost sight of her and expected she had fled in the confusion and the melee, but now I saw Rashid throw her to the ground.
I shifted direction and went for him. He turned from Marina to me.
The tall Rif was coming up behind me, dagger in hand.
The other two, I saw, were zeroing in from the sides.
I halted, half-crouched, feeling like a deer cornered by a pack of wolves.
Rashid drew his dagger and started for me, but the tall Rif called out, and he halted.
“No, do not kill him,” he commanded. “I want him and the girl alive.”
I breathed an inaudible sigh of relief, straightened up and let my muscles relax.
The other two Rifs were pulling Marina to her feet now, and I saw her face, white, terror-stricken, strained.
I felt the point of the dagger in the small of my back, and I was surrounded in seconds.
The tall one holding the dagger against me only gave me a passing glance and I saw his eyes were riveted on Rashid.
“So, Rashid, son of a mud-caked pig,” he snarled. “You killed Karminian, did you?”
I watched Rashid’s eyebrows go up in protest. “But I did kill him, I tell you,” the Rif answered excitedly.
“You not only lie, you persist in maintaining the charade,” the tall one shouted. “Your lying tongue will not wag again.”
He motioned to the other two Rifs who started for Rashid, daggers drawn.
Rashid’s evil face had broken into a mask of abject terror. He backed up, flung down his dagger and fell on his knees.
“I beg you to believe me,” he croaked.
“I believe my eyes,” the tall Rif spat out, nodding again to the othed two.
Rashid got up and turned to flee with a long moan of terror. The other two took after him, and I saw Marina’s wide, round eyes looking at me, a frown of incredulity on her face.
My eyes, narrowed, returning her gaze, told her to keep her mouth shut. I knew damn well what she was thinking, that I knew the explanation, that I could prevent this miscarriage of justice.
Not me, sister, I said inwardly. It’s nothing more than his past evils catching up with the bastard.
I heard Rashid scream, a high-pitched scream cut off by a bone-chilling gurgling sound followed by a sickening half-scream, half-groan.
The two Rifs returned and tossed something on the concrete in front of the tall one.
I looked at the bloody, grisly object for a moment before realizing it was Rashid’s tongue.
I looked up at Marina, saw her eyes roll upward as she fell into a dead faint. I caught her before she hit the ground.
“We will take these two back to El Ahmid,” the tall one said. “He will find ways to make them tell us where Karminian hides.”
“We don’t know anything about that,” I said. “Neither I nor the girl know.”
The Rif smiled, a slow, nasty smile. “That is why she came here with the money,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “That is why you interfered and let him escape us.”
“I had my own reasons for that,” I answered, gently slapping Marina’s cheeks. “How did you know we were meeting him here?” I questioned further.
Their sudden appearance still bugged me. I’d seen no signs of them or of being tailed by anyone.
The tall Rif smiled.
“We merely applied the techniques of our mountains to the city,” he said. “We put a man atop the minaret on the top of the Great Mosque. He saw the streets of the city as we see the mountain passes from our lookout points high in the mountains. We saw you escape from the Russians in their big, black car. It was easy to follow your path in the car. When we saw you come to the stadium, park the car and proceed on foot, we converged here.”
I smiled grimly. I’d gotten an object lesson in why they’d successively given the French, British and Spanish a hard time. Not only were their techniques good, but they knew how to adapt them to fit changing conditions, the first rule of military tactics.
“You are an American agent, of course,” the Rif said. “And the girl is your accomplice. Karminian had been working for you.”
“I am an artist,” I said. “The girl knows nothing. She was an old girl friend of Karminian’s.”
I saw the Rif flick his eyes at one of the others who had moved behind me.
Holding Marina in my arms, I tried to turn but the sharp pain exploded in my head, bright lights flashing briefly and then a curtain of blackness.
