He had his Buck knife out and was using it to dig some dirt out from under his fingernails. It was the most work the knife had gotten.
Whenever it ended — and all good things did, right? — he was going to go out and buy himself a new truck. His truck now was fine. But it was a little wimpy. He wanted something big. Something nice. A half ton, for sure. Maybe three-quarter ton. With leather seats. And a bitchin’ stereo system.
Hell, if this job kept up, he could have whatever truck he wanted. He could even jack up the suspension and…
His phone was ringing in his pocket. He took it out and looked down. It was his employer, the man William McRae called Alpha.
“Hey,” the man with the wine stain said.
“Anything to report?”
“Not really. She’s just doing her thing. She goes to bed at the same time, wakes up at the same time, goes out in her garden. The usual. Most exciting thing she’s done is go to the grocery store.”
“Have you seen the large visitor again?”
“Naw. He ain’t been back.”
“Good. What about any other signs of law enforcement?”
“Nothing. She ain’t gone to the sheriff in a few days now.”
“Excellent,” Alpha said. “And is she aware of your presence?”
“Nuh-uh. I don’t have to leave the house. Most of the time, she don’t know whether to wind her ass or scratch her watch.”
“Ah, you southerners and your colloquialisms. They are so amusing. But what I am dealing with is not. Dr. McRae is getting a little testy. He’s showing the first signs of balking at his work, giving us a little trouble.”
“Oh, yeah?” the man with the wine stain said, sitting up a little. This was the most interesting thing that had happened since the big guy had left. “You want me to, I don’t know, rough her up a bit? Put a little scare into her?”
He looked over at the Bushmaster propped against the wall. The .45 was in its holster. Not that he’d need that kind of firepower to scare an old lady. He could knock her around a little bit, hold the knife under her nose, make a big show out of it.
“No, we don’t want you making contact until it’s necessary. She might try to run if she knows she’s being watched. Or she might attract more law enforcement attention.”
“Okay.”
“At this point, we just need some more pictures,” Alpha said. “In case Dr. McRae gets more ideas.”
“You sure that’s all?” he asked. “I could mark her up a bit and then take pictures. You know, two birds with one stone and all that.”
Alpha paused like he was considering this. “No,” he said, eventually. “Just pictures for now.”
“All right,” the man with the wine stain said. “I’ll upload some more in a bit. She don’t lower her blinds at night. I can shoot some of her eating supper. When I get the angle right, there’s this calendar in the background that shows the date.”
“Perfect. Talk to you soon.”
The man with the wine stain put his phone back in his pocket, lifted the 300-millimeter lens, and went to work.
CHAPTER 25
WEST OF LUXOR, Egypt
he helicopter came to get Strike an hour later. Its pilot was thoughtful enough to land just outside camp, so the sand stirred up by the rotors didn’t lash into everyone. There was nothing he or anyone else could do to save Storm from the emotional whipping he felt as he watched Strike go.
This was how it went for them, he knew. For as close as they seemed that night at the hotel in Luxor, for as much as he yearned to be with her, for as strong as his feelings for her were, there was always another cataclysm waiting to ruin it all.
Someday there would be a reunion. Perhaps. And Storm would always be wondering whether it was fueled by personal feelings or professional necessity.
Storm watched the helicopter lift away. As it grew small in the distance, he was aware that Katie Comely was approaching behind him. Lightly, she put a hand on his back.
“You okay?” she asked.
He turned to face her. The heat of the day was upon them — it was at least 120 degrees — but her blue eyes had a coolness about them he found inviting. There was a hesitant smile on her freckled cheeks.
“Yeah. Perfect,” he said.
All around them, parts of the camp were breaking up. Word had gone out that the professor had taken off. The workers had done the math and figured out they were no longer going to get paid. They were departing with due haste. The academics were mostly just moping around, gossiping in small groups, bemoaning their fate, worrying about what would happen now that their funding was gone.
“This is none of my business, of course, but are you two together?” she asked, shifting her eyes in the direction of the helicopter. “I thought you were just colleagues when you first arrived, but then the way she responded to me earlier was, well, I think it’s safe to say there were some feelings there. A woman doesn’t usually call another woman a ‘piece of ass’ unless, you know.”
“Yeah, that was just…actually, I don’t know exactly how to describe that. And I’m not sure how to answer your question, either. We have been together in the past. I guess that’s obvious. We are also pretty obviously not together right now.”
“And the future?”
“Got me,” Storm said quite honestly.
“Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like. It doesn’t look like anyone is going to be using Professor Raynes’s tent. And we could certainly use someone like you around.”
“We?” Storm said.
She took a step closer and said, “Well, maybe just me.”
Storm inhaled deeply, then expelled the breath slowly. “That is a wonderful, wonderful offer, Dr. Comely. And under different circumstances, I would be happy to take you up on it.”
“But?” she said, the freckled smile dimming just a little.
“But I came here to do a job, and it’s not done yet.”
“I understand. I really do, but…” she looked down at the sand for a second, then looked back up at him and blurted, “Would you like to come back to my tent with me right now?”
She seemed so surprised the words had come out of her mouth, she hastened to add: “I mean, I don’t want you to think I’m a…This isn’t something I normally do. I just…Having that gun point at my head and…I don’t know.”
Storm leaned down and kissed her. On the cheek. “That is also a wonderful offer,” he said.
“But?” she said shyly.
“Yeah. But.”
“Okay. I understand.”
Storm stepped back, but Katie walked toward him, rose up on her tiptoes, and kissed him. On the lips.
Psychologists have done double-blind, controlled experiments that have proven, scientifically, that in the immediate aftermath of surviving a traumatic event, feelings of passion are heightened. Storm didn’t need to read any of the research. He was experiencing all the confirmation he needed.
“Thank you,” she said, when it was done.
“Thank you,” he said. “And now I’m going to have to go, because it’s getting more difficult to do the right thing with each passing second.”
It took every ounce of his self-control to walk away.
STORM PURPOSEFULLY AVOIDED any prolonged good-byes on his way out of camp. He simply got Antony fed and watered, loaded him with what he hoped would be a sufficient amount of supplies, and hopped on.
“Wait! Where are you going?” Katie asked when she saw Storm heading out.
“Due east,” he said.
She looked confused for a moment; then Storm saw understanding reach her face. “Good luck,” she said.