“Watch it!” cried a young woman.
Before Baahir could apologize, he planted a hand on her table, leaping over it. He crashed to the ground beside her. She attempted to berating Baahir, but was quickly silenced.
“Shhh!” He held a finger to his lips. “If you stay quiet, I will buy everything you have!” That quieted her, but she frowned down at him.
He suddenly realized something else about the woman.
She was absolutely gorgeous. Her skin reminded him of delicious cocoa.
He swallowed. “Please…”
She glared down at him, then back up to the crowd in the market. “He with you?”
The young woman’s inflection was similar to the dialects Baahir had heard in Kenya. Her English was flawless but accented. Baahir figured she was talking about Ajmal, but he didn’t know for sure. “What does he look like?”
“Big and angry.”
He belly-crawled under the front table. “Yep, that’s him.” A heavy cloth was draped over the front of it so no one on the outside of her booth could see what laid beneath. The contents now consisted of this woman’s personal belongings.
And Baahir.
“What does he want?”
Baahir snickered. “To kill me.”
She looked appalled. “And this is funny?”
Baahir shrugged. “If you knew what I have been through, I— ”
“Can I help you?” she asked, stepping forward, talking to someone else Baahir couldn’t see.
Her foot landed on Baahir’s pinky finger. He squeaked, but thankfully his protector coughed to cover up the sound. She subtly lifted her foot while continuing to speak to the newcomer, allowing Baahir to remove his trapped digit.
“I said — can I help you?”
A shadow blotted out the light on the vendor’s face, and Baahir knew, in that instant, that it was Ajmal. His pursuer was leaning in close to the merchant now, and Baahir could hear his breath falling out over her face. Baahir wouldn’t forgive himself if he got this nice woman hurt.
“I’m looking for my friend,” Ajmal said, “have you seen him?”
Baahir’s blood went cold. The woman could just as easily sell him out and save her own skin. He had given her no reason to trust him. No reason to think he was the good guy.
Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t…
“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 actually use force.
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.”
“Two dinners, then. Drinks too!”
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 will uphold my end of the bargain, Durah. Scouts’ honor.”
“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 not a cheap date.”
Chapter 85
Ifza
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.
Ifza allowed a grin to form on her face. If there was ever a situation that Ifza was confident that she could escape, it was this one. These men weren’t trained to hold someone like her. She’d be patient and wait for her opportunity.