Zahra must have felt the same way, hence the lack of conventional introductions.
The bar was mostly empty, and the bartender was also acting as a de facto waiter. He was currently away from the bar, giving the mercenary and the archeologist some much-needed privacy.
“So, FSB, huh?”
Yana nodded. “Yes.”
“How long?”
Yana emptied her lowball. “Too long.” She was thankful that Zahra didn’t push the subject further. She knew Eddy would have already clued her in. “What about you? What did you do before this?”
“British Army Intelligence Linguist.”
That stunned Yana. “You’re British?” Zahra’s voice contained no British accent.
The non-Brit smiled. “That’s what my passport says… I grew up in New York and moved to England with my dad and brother after my mom was murdered.”
Yana sensed there was a lot to unpack there, so she left it alone.
For now.
“What about after the army?”
Zahra took another long pull. “Worked for the British Museum for a bit… until it sorta blew up.”
“That was you?” Yana asked, once again shocked. She’d heard about the attack on the museum shortly after it had happened. There’d been quite a few deaths, and not from the explosion or subsequent fires.
“I was there, yeah,” Zahra replied. “But no, I didn’t cause the destruction.” She looked away. “My cousin did. He tried to kill me several times.”
Yana shook her head. “You are a very confusing woman to get a read on, you know that?”
Zahra shrugged. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
“One thing… In public, please call me Anastasia.”
“Why’s that?” Zahra asked, eyebrow raised.
“Let’s just say that I have made a name for myself in certain circles. I’ve also collected a long list of enemies along the way.”
“That I can relate to,” Zahra said, switching back to Russian with a grin. “Ever hear of the Scales of Anubis?” Yana mentally nodded in approval. She’s good.
“Yes, well, sort of,” Yana replied, seamlessly shifting back to English. “They are an extremist group out of Libya, right?”
Zahra drained her beer and waggled her head.
“Egypt, and they were. And no, I’m not going deeper into it. We don’t have that kind of time.”
The bartender returned and offered the two operatives another round. Since they had nothing to do until tomorrow afternoon, they happily obliged. Yana ordered another vodka, but, this time, Zahra ordered a Cucumber Gin Gimlet.
“Interesting choice,” Yana said, glancing at the cocktail.
Zahra tried it. Her eyes lit up. “Had one recently. Wanted to give it another go.”
“And?”
“Better than the first. Loads of cucumber. The other one was too limey for me.” She rattled off a string of light-speed Spanish to the bartender. He gave Zahra a small bow before moving off. “Wanna try?”
Yana shook her head. “I may be a woman, but I’m not that kind of woman.”
Zahra set her drink down. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Yana didn’t reply. She just gave her associate a small smirk and sipped her vodka.
Zahra returned her smirk with one of her own, and the pair finished their drinks in silence. The weather was beautiful, blowing in a gentle breeze across the bar.
“So,” Yana finally said, setting her second empty down, “about the Scales of Anubis…”
Zahra shook her head. “Not getting into it.”
“Aw, come on.” Yana playfully pouted. “If you show me yours, I’ll show you mine…”
Chapter 10
Zahra
A knock at the door roused a half-hungover, fully jetlagged Zahra. She needed coffee and something meaty and greasy to eat. If she had been back in the States, that would have been a pair of McGriddles. Then again, there were McDonald’s restaurants everywhere. The first thing she’d do when she got out of bed, besides emptying her bladder, was check to see if there was one near her hotel.
There was another knock at the door.
She sighed. The McGriddles would now be the third thing she did.
“I’m fine, thank you!” Zahra shouted, eyes closed.
Another series of knocks followed.
She repeated her reply in Spanish and was quickly answered by yet another flurry of knocks.
“Come on, really?” Zahra rolled out of bed dressed in a loose t-shirt and hip-hugging shorts. “I said, I’m fine!”
In her slightly dazed state, Zahra unlocked the door and turned the knob. If she had been totally coherent, she would have checked the peephole first.
As soon as the door cracked open, it was kicked in. It struck Zahra in the forearms and knocked her back. She had just gotten her arms up in time to keep it from hitting her squarely in the face.
Before she could get her feet back under her, Zahra was bull rushed and taken to the ground. She responded as if her skin was on fire and thrashed, bucking and clawing wildly. She heard a pair of grunts as her fingernails caught her attacker in the face. He straddled her smaller frame and pressed his weight down on top of her.
Zahra needed to fix their positioning and do so quickly.
She grabbed him by the hair and pulled while also snagging his left nipple and twisting hard. Zahra was not known for fighting fairly. His assault paused long enough for her to bring her legs up behind him. She wrapped her muscular legs around his head and yanked them back down to the ground. The man was dragged backward, bent over at a weird angle.
She released him and scrambled to her feet, aided by a nearby dresser. Her assailant rolled onto his hands and knees and went to push himself up. Zahra grabbed the first thing she could — a lamp — and slammed it on the back of his head. It was a glancing blow, and it only caused him to stagger. He was still very much in this fight.
He stayed low and shouldered into Zahra’s gut, taking her into and through the bathroom door. Zahra dropped a series of elbow strikes on the back of his head before being thrown backward into the tub. Her skull struck the wall, and she saw stars.
In her dazed state, Zahra was dragged back into the bedroom and thrown onto her bed. The bigger man straddled her and quickly clutched her neck with both hands. Zahra’s air was instantly cut off. She desperately tried to drive her hooked fingers into his eyes but couldn’t reach them. His arms were too long, and he was too strong.
“Stop,” Zahra croaked. She was already seeing spots. “Stop, wait.”
But her attacker wasn’t stopping or waiting.
He was killing her.
In the far recesses of her mildly concussed mind, she heard her door open.
“Zahra!”
A split second after her name was shouted, Zahra’s attacker was bowled into. His grip was jostled free, and he and Zahra’s savior, Yana, went tumbling off the bed. They hit the floor with a bang and began trading blows. Unlike Zahra, Yana stayed on top and drove fist after fist into the man’s now bloodied face. The Russian was a savage.
Zahra couldn’t move. She took in several life-giving breaths before she could do anything but lie still and inhale and exhale.
The only other female in the room yelped. Zahra lifted her head in time to see Yana get thrown into the mirror mounted on the wall opposite the bed. She landed atop the dresser in showering glass, then rolled off and onto the floor with an audible “Oof.”
Come on, Zahra, move!
Zahra silently rolled off the bed and stood on trembling legs. She needed to disable the brute quickly. Luckily, she knew of a sure-fire way to do so.