Chapter I
In which the Good Doctor arrives in Cairo, and we are introduced to her Entourage
Dr. Angela Ziegler, head resting gracefully on her arm, leaned down to take a look out the plane window. The whole city, or as much of it as she could now see, was the color of sand - even the buildings appeared to be made out of it, and a faint cloak of orange dust rested above the city and horizon like a sunlit halo of sand. "...And I have arranged via my local contacts for you to have a personal security detail while you are working here", the stocky man sitting across from her was saying, "Someone you can trust. You should be able to focus entirely on your work-and as you know, Brussels is expecting quite a bit of magic from you", he added. He was tall, but not very; wide, but not broad. His brown jacket unambiguously identified him as either a professor or doctor of some kind, while his shirt, which was loose at the chest and tight around the waist, unambiguously identified him as a middle-aged man. He had a short black beard (featuring, although he strongly denied it, the odd grey hairs), and thick black brows. "And you, Dr. Abbas, will you be staying in Cairo as well?" Ziegler asked, turning for the first time way from the window to look at him inquiringly. The Good Doctor, as she was known, was a tall aryan goddess of a woman with straight golden-blonde hair and pale blue yet kind eyes. Her carriage was one of dignity and graceful authority, with a voice that added a bright, matronly touch. She spoke with the charming trace of a German accent. "I don't know anyone else in the country, to be frank".
"Yes, yes, I will for the time being", the man replied, "I'm also supposed to be working here you know and so I should be here for a stretch until I'm called back."
"And our hotel? I really hope it isn't too lavish. These tourist spots can be, yes?"
"I don't think it is - though I can't speak for yours. My backers aren't quite as generous as yours and so I have been put up in a different hotel. No doubt less, as you say, lavish."
"Oh that's really too bad. I can't say it will make me enjoy my hotel any less though!" she added with a posh, carefree laugh.
Dr. Angela Ziegler had been sent to Cairo as part of a peacetime UN medical dispatch, selected along with a handful of European medical professionals to cairo to help treatment and training of medical staff. Ziegler herself was a renowned Swiss nanoscience expert and troglodyte, who had built up quite the reputation for visiting conflict zones and doing medical volunteer work in many parts of the world, prior to being contacted by the UN. This trip, however was to no battlefield, but to a civilian operation. The unhurried, almost bored Welcome to Cairo International Airport heard over the arrivals terminal speaker seemed to drive this home very well. In fact, though she was as brave as any in the face of danger or war, Dr. Ziegler was happy to enjoy the opportunity for some R&R that this assignment would provide.
Dr. Abbas assumed the larger of the two travellers' bags, and hailed them a cab outside of the airport. "The Sheraton Cairo, please", he said to the driver as they got in. Noticing Dr. Ziegler's pursed lips, he offered, "It has been a while, really, I really do need to brush up on my masri."
"I had hoped you might be able to teach me some, for fun you know! Too bad." Dr. Ziegler responded.
"Perhaps your bodyguard will be able to help you with that - she is a local; a friend of mine and fluent as they come," said Dr. Abbas, but the good doctor didn't seem to be paying attention. She was looking out the window at the city passing by. The streets and buildings looked almost like any European city, except for the color-a sandy stone tint seemed to be on all the buildings, and they cast stark shadows, all under the lone sun in a cloudless blue sky.
They arrived at the hotel in not much more than a half hour, and checking in, headed up to where the good doctor would be staying. Though she had insisted against it, Dr. Abbas said he would help carry her bags up before heading to his own hotel.
"I have told your to-be bodyguard to join us upstairs when she arrives; I'll just introduce you two and be off. Let's hope you approve of your room!" he added in jest, as they opened the door. The room was spacious, sensible, and clean - and posh while indeed not being "too lavish".
"Well! This is nice," said Dr. Ziegler, as she surveyed the room with her hands on her hips. She had completely forgotten Dr. Abbas though, who was struggling to hoist the larger of her suitcases up onto the bed. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and moved to help. Too late, the latch had opened, spilling half the contents down onto the floor. "I am so sorry doctor!" Dr. Ziegler offered. "No no, it's alright - the thing's heavier than I thought!" Dr. Abbas replied. As he seemed to hesitate in picking the clothing articles up himself, Dr. Ziegler started to do so herself. She was interrupted, however, by Dr. Abbas suddenly standing up and turning towards the still-open door.
Standing in the doorway was a tall Egyptian woman, resting her forearm on the doorway. She was clad in some sort of cropped security vest, and wearing (presumably) military-issue camouflage pants. A rifle was strapped across her left shoulder. She had straight black hair, flowing free save for two golden-ringed braids on either side of her face. She had beautiful deep brown skin, and arresting chocolate-colored eyes, framed by thick, low-set, determined eyebrows. Around her right eye was an udjat ('eye of horus') tattoo. She had strong facial features; bespeaking of a hardiness her otherwise feminine beauty would seem to contradict. In short, the picture of arabian divinity.
"Ah! Here is your security detail. Come in, Fareeha, how are you?"
The woman left the doorway and walked stiffly (perhaps a bit comically) into the room towards them, and embraced Dr. Abbas by putting her right arm around his neck. She had the bearing of a soldier.
"Dr. Ziegler, this is Captain Fareeha Amari; she is going to be your bodyguard while you are here. I was a friend of her mother's back several-well, many-years ago. She is former Egyptian security operating out of...Giza, was it?"
The woman, who had been looking inscrutably at Dr. Ziegler since coming to a stop in front of the two, now turned her head, followed a few seconds later by her eyes, toward the old man.
"Yes", she answered shortly.
"Right, I though that was it", continued Dr. Abbas, "You look so much like your mother you know", he started, but seemed to recover himself mid-thought and turned back towards Dr. Ziegler.
"This is the colleague I told you about, Fareeha, Dr. Angela Ziegler from Brussels. She is a longtime friend of mine", he said, indicating the good doctor. Dr. Ziegler took a step towards the newcomer and extended her hand, smiling. "It is nice to meet you, Captain", she said warmly. For her part, the Captain looked at her outstretched hand for a few moments, then stiffly extended hers in return. As she did so, Dr. Ziegler noticed surprisingly muscular forearms revealed by the Captain's rolled-up sleeves. "I told Dr. Abbas not to go overboard with security, but I am glad to hear you are a friend of his - I do thank you for all of this", the good doctor added, clasping both hands together now.
"I have heard much about you, Doctor Angela", said Fareeha. She spoke with a noticeable accent, and had a low but dulcet voice. "Call me Pharah. I will do my best to protect you and make sure you enjoy a safe time in Cairo".
Dr. Ziegler involuntarily laughed lightly at the stiff formality of the captain's speech. "I daresay I shan't need all that much in the way of protection, but I will appreciate the company at least", she said reassuringly.
"Fareeha is one of the best you can find, and her mother was a good friend of mine as well-" Dr. Abbas started again, but, suddenly seeing again the open half-unpacked bags on the bed, he drew himself up and said, "Well! I am a bit jet lagged after that flight, and I think I will just head over to my hotel for the day." Once again embracing the Captain, and shaking hands with Dr. Ziegler, he added "Fareeha will be on standby in the hotel, and I will be staying just across the street; if you need anything do let me know-though I've been away for so long I'm not as familiar with the city as the Captain!" He chuckled as he turned to leave, "Good afternoon then, ladies" he waved as he picked up his suitcase and turned to walk out. The two women watched him leave. "Good day Dr. Abbas, thank you!" Dr. Ziegler called after him. As his footsteps disappeared down the hallway, the doctor and the captain turned to look at each other. After a moment of silence, Dr. Ziegler spoke "I wonder if he knows you don't get jet lag on 4 hour flights?" She laughed, and the Captain's hitherto serious expression changed into smile as she chuckled as well. This apparently relaxed her somewhat, and she asked "Can I help with your bags?" indicating the jumble on the bed. She moved past the doctor and reached to pick up one of the spilled articles of clothing on the bed. "Oh, no!" chided Dr. Ziegler, lithely moving to snatch up the piece of clothing, which happened to be a pair of undergarments. "I won't have it; I shall fix this mess myself", laughing, she carelessly tossed it back into the suitcase. Pharah quickly withdrew her hand at this, and, attempting to re-position herself, almost dropped her rifle over her shoulder before catching the strap and hoisting it back into position. She appeared a bit flustered by what she probably saw as a lapse of professionalism, so Dr. Ziegler attempted to reassure her with "Well! I had better get started trying to settle myself in", pretending not to notice, and focusing on folding some shirt or other. Pharah might have been blushing, but, of course, it was impossible to tell.
"Yes", said Fareeha, a bit loudly, stepping backwards a few paces as if to go, "Then I shall be on standby in the lobby downstairs". She saluted briefly, and then, about-faced, and started walking out of the room.
"Thank you again for being here, dear!" said Dr. Ziegler, turning and waving at the retreating Captain.
Pharah closed the door as she walked out, and turned the knob several times, checking the lock from without. Dr. Ziegler watched her leave and laughed a bit to herself, how adorable, she thought, and then turned to start her unpacking in earnest. She meticulously folded up the items, and placing them back into the suitcase, pulling it down to the floor. "Whew!" she exclaimed, and fell backwards onto the now cleared bedspread. Looking up at the ceiling she rubbed her eyes, and yawned, out of habit covering it with the back of her hand. She turned and looked over out the window at the now-dusk covered city, thinking about plans, work, and what was to come for her in Cairo.