Ifza replied to the sender and then pocketed the device. After a moment of silence and inaction, footsteps from further down the subterranean corridor picked up. Motion-sensitive lights winked to life every ten feet, guiding the way for the new arrival. Baahir didn’t recognize the individual, but his scrubs gave him away as a doctor of some kind. In his hands was a single black, rectangular box, not unlike what a celebratory fountain pen would be presented in.
The newcomer stopped in front of Khaliq and bowed his head slightly, presenting the box to him. The Scales of Anubis leader gently accepted the container and lifted its lid. Baahir couldn’t spot its contents, but whatever the box contained, it was satisfying to the elder Ayad. Ifza placed a reassuring hand on her brother’s shoulder and squeezed. The gesture moved them along.
“Do it,” Khaliq ordered, closing and handing the box back to the doctor.
The other man backed away.
Baahir watched him enter the surgical suite. When he did, he finally spoke up.
“Who is that?”
“A dear friend,” Khaliq replied, keeping the explanation short.
The way the man moved gave away his training. He really was a doctor of some sort. He placed the box atop a rolling cart and pushed it up next to the table holding the motionless Grant Upton. The doctor lifted Grant’s left wrist and held it while checking his watch.
Looking for a pulse, Baahir thought.
The doctor gave no indication that he had found one, and when he replaced Grant’s arm by his side, it flopped off the table before the doctor moved it back into place.
It was the first time that Baahir contemplated that he was staring at a dead man.
“You killed him?” he asked, sidestepping away from Ifza.
Khaliq kept his eyes glued to the scene on the other side while his sister turned and faced Baahir.
“No, he is only in an induced coma. “We saved his life, actually.”
Baahir tried to laugh heartily, but it came out as nothing more than an exhausted gasp for air. “You saved him? How? You poisoned him!” Baahir’s eyes flicked back to Grant. “You’re all monsters.”
Ifza’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your words, Dr. Hassan, or you’ll end up just like him.” She pointed into the room — to Grant.
Baahir knew he should do as she said and watch his words carefully, but he couldn’t.
“Better than becoming anything like you.”
Ifza smiled. “You already are.” She shared a soft laugh with her brother. The Ayads thought they were enjoying an inside joke at Baahir’s expense, and he was more than happy to spoil the moment.
Baahir faced the window. “Just because we share the same blood does not make us the same.” He snapped his head to the right and glared at the surprised siblings. Both were looking at him, confused. “Yes, I know about our family history, and it means absolutely nothing to me.” Lost in his emotional outburst, Baahir spun and stepped toward his captors, banging the base of his fist on the glass. “The Ayad name means nothing!”
Ifza lashed out and slammed her fist into Baahir’s face, dropping him to the floor with the single punch.
Baahir prodded his bloodied lip and then wiggled a newly loosened tooth with his tongue. He didn’t care. It had been worth getting what he said off his chest. Plus, he was still alive.
Ifza loomed over him.
“Sister, stop.” Khaliq spoke softly. “He spits insults because he is helpless and afraid.”
Baahir climbed to his feet. He peeked into the suite and stopped where he was. On one knee, he watched the doctor plunge a syringe full of black liquid into Grant’s neck. He applied consistent pressure to the plunger until the last drop was gone. Baahir was appalled. Never in his life would he have thought he’d be watching an innocent man be experimented on. He stood and waited, unsure of what would happen next. He doubted the Ayads knew what to expect either. This was uncharted territory for everyone.
“What’s the black stuff?”
“That is powdered hellstone,” Khaliq explained. “Once it is hydrated, it transforms into something amazing.”
“Don’t you mean something appalling?”
Khaliq ignored him and took his sister’s hand. They appeared nervous. It was an uncommon characteristic for the killers.
Nothing happened.
Chapter 58
Zahra
Zahra made it to the bottom first. This time, she opened the door and held it open for her uncle. It was still hard to accept the fact that Wally wasn’t really a member of the family. But did he have to be to still be something more to Zahra? He had put his own life on the line all those years ago to protect her mother. That had to count for something, right?
She pushed open the door and was immediately hit by the incoming breeze coming off the water. She could smell the saltiness of the air and the natural calmness the seaside flow brought her. Zahra loved the coast, no matter where she was in the world.
Patiently, she waited for the elder man. If she had to guess, Wally must have been in his late sixties by now, though the heavy limp portrayed him as much older than that. He was halfway down the steps when Zahra turned and peeked back out over the water. A commotion had picked up in the area surrounding the lighthouse’s eastern entrance. The shadows of a dozen pine and palm trees made it difficult to make out exactly what the disturbance was. Port Said had seen its share of violence. Every place in Egypt had at some point.
A cloud moved away to unveil the uproar’s origin, and the party responsible for it. Locals and out-of-towners, alike, ran amuck, veering around a trio of men standing fifty feet from Zahra and the base of the lighthouse. The guy in the middle knelt and lugged a heavy-looking metal tube onto his shoulder.
Oh, shit.
Zahra let go of the door and ran back the other way, grabbing Wally by the arm as she began to reascend the stairs.
“RPG!” she shouted, pulling the stumbling man along with all her might.
They reached the first landing, hooked a right, but didn’t move any higher. At this angle, if they squeezed against the far wall, the entrance was hidden behind the next step of concrete stairs.
Hopefully, they’re solid enough.
The door to the Port Said lighthouse disintegrated as it, and the surrounding support structure, was decimated by the rocket-propelled grenade. Debris was tossed everywhere, some of it deflecting around the tight confines of the stairwell and hitting its occupants. Wally had thought fast and had covered Zahra and himself with his cloak, keeping most of the shrapnel out. However, some did hit them. As he removed his cloak, both he and Zahra realized they were bleeding from tiny cuts to their exposed skin. Zahra felt the sting of filth socializing with an open wound on her chin.
Shouts arose, and two men entered the cloud of dirt and dust, brandishing twin AK-103 rifles. Zahra drew her gun from beneath her jacket and opened fire.
Wally did as well, pulling a pistol from a hidden holster Zahra hadn’t known he had been wearing.
Each pursuer went down, sporting a pair of gunshot wounds before they could even get a shot off. Thankfully, the bodies weren’t that of local law enforcement or the military. Their civilian clothes and masked faces identified them as what Zahra figured were mercenaries, or, more than likely, members of the Ayad cabal.
Additional voices announced the arrival of more men. Zahra and Wally were outnumbered and outgunned. Being attacked, out in the open, at the most famous landmark in Port Said was not something either of them had taken into account. A wave of automatic gunfire got Zahra and Wally moving. With nowhere else to go, they headed back up the way they had come.