The Egyptian sun beat down upon my back; it was typical day in Cairo. Hot crowed streets, venders calling to tourists in the hopes of grabbing their attention, one of the venders stopped me. Turning my attention I glared at him. He spoke in Arabic. "That sir is a fine looking animal. Would you be willing to sell it?"

He extended his hand to my companion, who stood at my side. Said companion was a rather large cat, when the man attempted to touch her, she hissed and swiped at his hand. Smirking, I scratched her behind the ear, replying in fluent Arabic. "That choice is not mine. Bast chose me a lifetime companion. I am as much her companion as she is mine."

Bast pressed her head into my hand, and we made our way to the local tavern. As we walked, something on the wall of a house that faced the street caught my eye. Coming closer my eyes widened and I cursed. It was wanted poster; taking the paper I ripped it from wall. Looking at Bast I muttered. "Well looks like I have become a wanted criminal."

Kneeling down, I showed her the wanted poster. On it was a drawing of me. Thankfully my face remained hidden. Throughout my work I have concealed my face within the confines of a man's balaclava. It was hard enough being a woman in Europe. But try being one in Egypt, and Europe would seem like a feminist's heaven. The best way to make it here was to bind your chest and hide your feminine features as best as possible. Rolling my eyes I tore the poster in half and grinded it into the sand. As we walked I complained. "You lead one French Ambassador into a tomb and he dies. And then they want your blood."

Going into the tavern I took a seat and ordered a drink. Bast jumped up onto the stool next to me. She put something on the bar and then looked over at me. I grimaced when I realized that it was the corpse of a large snake. The tender started to yell at us, making exaggerated gestures towards Bast and her meal. Rolling my eyes I took out my gun and aimed it at him "A shot of whiskey for myself, and a saucer of goat milk for my escort, if you don't mind?"

The man looked at Bast's catch, then her, then me, and the down the barrels of my gun. Biting his tongue, he turned and got us our drinks. Putting my gun away I watched as Bast devoured her snake. "So hard to find good service these days, wouldn't you agree?"

Bast made a chirping noise, and then picked up the remainder of her meal, dropping it in my lap. Chuckling I picked it up and put it in my mouth, when the cat's attention was diverted from me I spat it out behind the bar. Hearing a roar of laughter, I looked around to find the last person I least expected to see. "Richard O'Connell! Well I haven't seen you in years. I love the new hairstyle by the way!"

At the mention of his hair, Rick growled. "I lost all my money last week in a bar."

Shaking my head I clicked my tongue, Bast looked at me and jumped into my lap. Leaving the stool empty for O'Connell, he took a seat. "Let me buy you a drink, for old time's sake."

O'Connell nodded, and I added another shot to my order. The tender came back a few seconds later and handed us our drinks. Bast jumped onto the bar top and started to lap up the goat milk. O'Connell knocked back his shot, and I did the same. "I noticed the wanted posters Flint. What did you do this time?"

I bit my lip and absentmindedly began to stroke Bast, who purred. "Well, you see I was hired to guard an Ambassador on a dig in one of the pyramids. Um, well I was not too familiar with the booby traps. He ended up walking into a room full of poisonous snakes."

O'Connell blinked and had another shot. "You're kidding?"

Shaking my head I pulled a 'you're an idiot' look, though my veil made that impossible to see. "Of course not, brainless! Why would I kill someone who was paying me? That's terrible business edict! But course the French view me as vermin scum and do not hold me in the highest regards, so now I have a price on my head!"

With that said I knocked back another shot. Sighing, O'Connell sympathized. "Tough break buddy, you always seem to have the worst luck."

Suddenly gunshots echoed from outside and the doors to the tavern doors were flung open. Spinning around I groaned. O'Connell looked took in the scene. The leader of the gunmen stepped forward. "Ash Flint you are under arrest for the murder of French Ambassador, Anton Boutin."

O'Connell looked back at me again. "Scratch that, you don't seem to have the worst luck. Bad luck is the only kind of luck you have."