Chapter 3
He remained concealed in the black sedan, watching the scene unfold. Two of his men had entered the apartment, yet the people who exited it were not his men. Instead two different men and a woman exited, carrying with them Rosalinda's limp body.
Victor Galbadon bit back an oath and remained in his car, knowing better than to try and surprise a group of people who had obviously evaded his own men. He wondered who exactly these people were and what had happened inside that apartment.
Grabbing up his cell phone, he called his boss. The big man would not be pleased when he told him what had happened. He would not be pleased at all.
And Victor was correct. Once he had Alfonse on the phone and he explained the strange happenings, he could hear the man rattle off a string of curses that even made him blush. When the big man finally took a breath, Victor said, "We should send some cleaners in to take care of things in the apartment. We don't want any traces of our men in Rosa's place."
"Of course not. I'll get on the phone immediately and send in a team. But are you certain our men are dead?" Alfonse asked.
"I'm assuming so. I could go check if you want, but this group is starting to head out with Rosa. Don't you think I should follow?" Victor inquired.
"Yes, follow. By all means, follow. I don't want my daughter out of your sight. I want to know who these people are she's with and I want her back," Alfonse insisted.
The Suburban's lights flicked on and the vehicle started to roll out of the parking lot. Victor started his own car's engine and said, "They're heading out, Alfonse. I'll sign off now. I'm right behind them."
He too wanted Rosalinda back-at any cost.
****
Her brain was foggy and her eyes refused to focus causing her eyelids to flutter shut again and again. Rose continued to try and force her eyes open, hoping that eventually she would be able to focus on something.
Finally, after much effort, she made out the contours of a ceiling fan swirling above her.
Where was she?
She had no ceiling fan in her room and wasn't she in her room when she had gone to bed?
She licked at her dry lips and felt the scratchiness of her throat. Her head pounded something awful and her stomach ached as if she had not eaten in days.
Something was not right. Was she sick? Is that why she felt so horrible and why her vision blurred as she tried to make out individual objects around her?
Then she heard them. Voices. People were talking quietly in the room. Again, she attempted to make out her surroundings and when she was finally able to zero in on the dark beige walls in need of painting and the wooden shutters that covered a window, she was positive she was not in her room.
"Oh my god," she breathed once she realized her surroundings. Then she remembered the man in black and a cold fear seized her. "No," she cried softly.
"You're awake," a female voice said as a woman moved next to her, sitting on the bed and looking her over with earnest. "How do you feel?"
Rose moved her eyes to focus on the woman at her side and the effort caused her head to hurt. After several moments of pained effort, Rose was able to make out the beautifully exotic features of the woman she had seen in Ali's apartment.
If things weren't strange enough already, recognizing this woman had just convinced Rose that she had awoken in an episode of the X-Files. Hadn't her father's men gotten to her? If so, what was Ali's friend doing here?
"Ali?" she finally asked.
"Ali's not here right now. He'll be back shortly," the woman answered.
"Where am I? What.happened?"
"You are safe," was all the woman would say and that was all Rose had time to hear before she again fell into that heavy haze that she had struggled to escape from for only a few moments.
****
Rose forced herself awake again, and this time the effort was easier than the first. As she looked around at the room she occupied, its sparse furniture nothing remarkable, she wondered if she had dreamed the woman at her bedside. But after a few minutes, the woman reappeared, carrying a glass of water.
"Here. Drink while you are conscious," the woman said.She assisted Rose with the glass and the effort to drink caused her head to pound furiously.
Rose reached up and felt a huge lump on the left side of her head. Weakly she asked, "What hit me?"
"A very large man with a gun," the woman said.
"Who?"
"We were hoping you could tell us that."
Rose gave her head a small shake though her memory was returning full force. Until she knew more about where she was and what was happening, she would divulge nothing.
"Who are you?" Rose finally inquired.
Putting the glass of water down on a small side table, the woman sighed and reluctantly revealed, "My name is Yasmeen."
"I saw you with Ali," Rose said.
"Yes. I was there to accompany him home," she explained.
"Where is he now?" Rose asked, praying the woman answered that he was nearby.
"He is here. I will get him for you."
The woman was gone from Rose's view and a moment later, Ali appeared. Rose couldn't have been happier to see him. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and khaki pants, his hair pulled back in a ponytail and his glasses again upon his face. She remembered when she had last glimpsed him, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his hair falling in waves past his collar, and she wondered if that sexy look had been a dream for he was again looking like his usual, reserved self.
"Rose," he said with a smile as he sat down on the side of the bed and placed a warm hand upon her face. "How are you feeling?"
"Groggy. What happened?"
"You were attacked," he answered her.
"By who?"
"You don't know?" Ali inquired.
"I've never seen that man before," Rose decided to say. Again, she was hesitant to divulge information about her past and her attacker even to Ali.
Ali sighed and it sounded as if he was displeased with her answer.
"Are you certain?" he asked.
Rose nodded though the action hurt.
"Where are we? How did I get away from that man?" Rose questioned, suddenly feeling as if she were still in a bizarre dream.
Ali hesitated and looked squarely at Rose's face.
"You do trust me, don't you, Rose?" he asked.
"Of course. You're the only person I trust." Her answer was the truth. She could trust no one else except Ali. Even though she had not burdened him with her terrible life story, she trusted him.
Her trust, however, could not prepare her for his answer. When she heard his words, she blinked several times trying to digest the truth.
"Egypt?" she asked, aghast. "We're in Egypt?"
"Yes. I told you, Rose, I had to come back here. And when I found that man attacking you in your apartment, I felt I had no choice but to take you away from whatever had happened. At the time, the only logical solution seemed to bring you here with me."
"It seemed logical for you to bring me to another continent?" she shot out.
Ali stood and glared down at her with a look Rose had never seen upon his face before.
"Would you rather I called the authorities and tried to explain why there were two dead men in your apartment?" Ali inquired.
Rose wished her brain wasn't quite so groggy. She wished she could fathom all that Ali had just revealed but it was impossible.
"Two men? Dead? Ali, what happened?" Rose asked.
"First answer me if you would rather I had called the authorities back in California," he demanded.
Slowly, Rose said, "No. I would not have wanted that."
"Because you are hiding something?" he guessed.
Rose felt her stomach twist and turn and she wondered if it was caused from her injury or from the realization that her life had once again been turned completely upside down. She couldn't stand the way Ali was looking at her, nor could she reveal to him about her past life. There was too much she just wanted to forget.
"Ali," Rose said quietly, her vision blurring at the edges. "If we are truly in Egypt, then the incident in my apartment can not follow us here."
Ali nodded at her words and regained his seat next to her on the bed. His face had softened at her explanation.
"If you are certain, Rose, then I believe you," he told her. "Now rest. We have a long journey ahead of us soon."
"What journey?" she inquired.
"To my village," he answered. "We are in Cairo now and as soon as you are well, we will leave."
Rose had a million other questions, yet her body could no longer remain awake long enough to ask them. She felt Ali's touch upon her face, a few soft words issued from his mouth in that rich tone of his and then she was out.
****
"Is she asleep again?" Yasmeen inquired as Ali exited Rose's bedroom with a perplexed look upon his face.
He nodded.
"Did she offer you any explanation?" Yasmeen then asked.
Sighing as he sat on the dark couch in the living space between the two bedrooms of the hotel suite they were using, Ali didn't answer her right away. Instead, he reran Rose's words through his brain. Finally, he said, "She insists the incident in California is no longer a threat-especially here."
"Yes, but who were those men? What was that attack all about?" Yasmeen asked as she sat on the couch next to him and looked him squarely in the face with some anxiety.
Ali smiled at her for the first time since they'd been reunited and replied, "Yasmeen, do not worry so. Whatever happened back in Rose's apartment only has to do with her, not with us. We need to only worry about the terrorist faction that is searching the desert for the Fortress of Aten."
His words only seemed to lessen the worry a fraction that resided upon her face.
"Yes, the fortress is a major concern, but Rose concerns me too. I doubt that her problems have anything to do with us, but what if her problems make their way here to Egypt? We could be hindered in our efforts," Yasmeen pointed out.
Ali stood then and paced the floor of the hotel. They had rented a suite in a hotel that was well off the beaten path of the usual tourist trail. Their accommodations were adequate enough for their purposes and the hotel manager was a person who asked no questions. They had dealt with him on numerous occasions before and Ali knew their identities and purpose would be kept quiet.
"That is a possibility," Ali agreed.
"Then why bring her here with us?" Yasmeen asked.
With a sarcastic smile, Ali countered, "It is a bit late for that. She is already here."
"Yes, but she needn't travel with us home. Leave her here in Cairo with someone you trust to see to her safety. You know it would be little effort to get her a forged passport and then have her sent wherever she desires to go."
Ali studied Yasmeen's face carefully for he could not tell whether she was making this suggestion because she was truly worried or just because she wanted to toy with him.
"I could send her away," Ali began.
"But you won't," Yasmeen finished for him. "You care for her, don't you?"
"Like I said, she is my."
Yasmeen interrupted. "Yes, yes. She is your friend. I understand that. But that is not what I meant."
"I know what you meant," Ali snapped. "And what if I do care for her? What difference does it make?"
Standing, Yasmeen explained, "The difference it makes, Ali, is that once she discovers that you are not really that simple, ordinary computer programmer you have pretended to be for the past two years she may not care much for you in return."
"But I am a computer programmer," he returned, hoping to sound light now that they had focused on his private life.
"Of course you were and are," she said with some frustration. "Just as I am a nurse and several others of our young people are educated professionals in some modern skill. Yet you know that few people live our true lives. Few people understand our duty, our long history to keep watch over the desert. And very, very few people would willingly give up their culture and life to join us, no matter how much they may care for one of us."
Ali remained silent, so Yasmeen continued. "Are you honestly going to reveal all that you are, all that we are, to Rose in the hopes that she's one of the few who would understand and remain in the middle of the desert to help carry out our centuries old work? Are you going to take that chance?"
Slowly, Ali answered, "I may take that chance because I have a feeling Rose is not exactly what she seems on the outside either. That attack in California proves that to me."
Sarcastically, Yasmeen snapped, "So because her life is a lie, she'll understand your lie? Is that your reasoning, Ali?"
"Enough!" he growled, tired of her insistent questions. "Rose is coming back with us. I will hear no more argument."
Yasmeen threw him a cool stare with her light brown eyes and crossed her arms over her well-endowed chest. "Just like your father Aarif and your grandfather Ardeth. When your authority is questioned, you turn into a tyrant."
Narrowing his own eyes on her face, Ali replied roughly, "Because we were once childhood friends, Yasmeen, I will allow your comment.this time. Do not dare utter such remarks once the men have arrived."
She closed her mouth, making no further verbal comment, but her face and eyes still conveyed her defiance.
Frustrated as only Yasmeen could make him, Ali turned on his heal and headed for the door. "Remain here with Rose. I have phone calls to make to the museum and to the university." He left with no further word and closed the door with a loud thud behind him.
By the time he had descended the three flights of stairs and landed in the lobby, his frustration had subsided. Yasmeen could cause his tempter to flare quickly, but she could not affect him for long. Though they knew each other well, Ali held no feelings for Yasmeen beyond friendship, so her taunts only touched the surface of his emotions. Now if Rose were spewing such words his way, Ali knew they would cut deeply for he was realizing that his emotions ran wide and true for her.
Ali phoned his contacts at both the museum and the university. For the past century, his people had fostered trusted contacts in those vital institutions. In fact, his uncle on his mother's side was the current curator at the museum and it was his information that was most vital today.
"We have known for several months that a dangerous group was searching the desert for the Fortress of Aten. Yet as you know, we worried little because they had focused their attention west, almost in Libya," his uncle Saed said over the phone.
"Yes, of course," Ali answered, already having been briefed on this information three months ago when he had returned home for his father's funeral. It was this renegade organization that had been responsible for his father's death. His people were quite certain they had sent an assassin to kill his father in the hopes that taking out the leader of their clan would cause confusion and delay action by the desert warriors. Yet the group had miscalculated the organization and determination of Ali's desert people, for they had barely faltered at the death of their chief, and now Ali was back in Egypt to claim his post as the next chief and their duty would continue as always.
"Now, however," Saed continued, "they have moved east through the Sahara and I fear they are closing in. Apparently, they have hired a historian from Europe who is quite adept with Egyptian mythology and history." He paused and asked, "Have you spoken with Ahmad at the university yet?"
"Not yet. We have just arrived in Cairo yesterday morning," Ali explained. "I am awaiting my men before I make any further moves or contacts. I was going to call him next."
"I will save you a quarter," Saed said, "and tell you all that he knows as well. This historian is making progress and we need to be worried. I fear that this man may be able to decipher the historic clues and locate the fortress. He already has the Staff of the Sun."
"What?" Ali asked too loudly, then glanced around to ensure he had not drawn attention to himself. "How? I thought that was locked safely away in London. Grandfather had seen to that decades ago."
"As we all thought. But we have just recently been informed that there was a break-in at the London Museum several months ago. That is why you have been summoned home so early, Ali. Didn't anyone explain this to you?"
"No. But I do not believe my escorts knew all this information yet. The Council sent Yasmeen and she hinted at something that was dangerous, but did not elaborate," Ali explained.
"That is because she knows nothing more. The Council knows, I know, Ahmad knows. That is all until you feel the need to discuss the situations with your people."
Ali nodded though the gesture was unseen by his uncle. Much information had just been passed his way that he needed to mull over before his men arrived in the morning. He needed to plot a course of action to deal with the terrorists and figure out what to do with Rose. He had complicated matters by bringing her along to Egypt, yet in his heart he knew he had done what was best for her. And when it came to Rose, he was starting to think more with his heart than with his brain.
"Ali?" his uncle questioned when the silence remained.
"Yes, Saed, I am here," he answered. "I was thinking."
"There is much to think about. Ahmad and myself have been querying over this situation for days ourselves. We even contacted our friend in the government, for if these men who killed your father gain access to the fortress who knows what type of power they could wield."
"And of course, the government said they are concerned, but unable to assist," Ali replied dryly.
"Exactly," Saed stated.
This was no surprise to Ali for the Egyptian government had responded the exact same way to each new threat. They always mentioned their concern and would grant Ali's people much leeway in handling the situation, but they would be unable to assist for it was not a political matter.
Ali wondered if their government would consider it a political matter if the renegade group discovered how to wield the power of the fortress and hold the world virtually hostage. Certainly then, it would be a political matter! Yet for now, as it had been for centuries, his people were on their own to defend the secrets of the pharaohs.
And there were many secrets. Most historians knew of the myths of ancient Egypt, but few believed in them. Ali, however, believed in all of them, for it had been proven several times over the course of history, that they were real. Dangerously real. His father had died trying to protect those secrets as several other chiefs throughout time had perished. And if fate so deemed it, Ali too would die protecting the "myths" of the Sahara. It was in his blood.
"Well, it appears as if for now, we are on our own," Ali said, though it was already known by both men.
Ali was about to bid his farewell, when his mind again wandered back to Rose. Something about that night in California was still nagging at him. Though Rose had insisted that her troubles could not possibly follow them to Egypt, Ali still felt something strange in his bones. Taking a chance, he briefly explained to his uncle what had happened.
"Saed, I wanted to ask you a favor," Ali said. "It is something completely unconnected with the fortress, but I would like a bit of help just the same."
"Anything, Ali."
"A friend of mine had some troubles in America. I am not exactly clear on the details yet, for she was injured and is still recovering."
"She?" Saed asked with interest.
Ignoring his uncle, Ali continued. "She is now here in Egypt."
"With you?" Saed interrupted to question.
Not bothering to answer his uncle, Ali repeated, "She is in Egypt and I have only a vague concern that she is not out of danger. But by chance if she is in danger, would you please keep an eye out for anyone inquiring of an American woman?"
Ali heard his uncle sigh over the phone, then finally he answered, "Yes, of course."
"Thank you, Saed. Now, I must go. You know where we are if you need to contact us."
Ali hung up though he was positive his uncle had wanted to ask more of Rose. Yet Ali had purposely ended the conversation quickly for he had very little he could pass on about Rose or her situation.
***
He remained concealed in the black sedan, watching the scene unfold. Two of his men had entered the apartment, yet the people who exited it were not his men. Instead two different men and a woman exited, carrying with them Rosalinda's limp body.
Victor Galbadon bit back an oath and remained in his car, knowing better than to try and surprise a group of people who had obviously evaded his own men. He wondered who exactly these people were and what had happened inside that apartment.
Grabbing up his cell phone, he called his boss. The big man would not be pleased when he told him what had happened. He would not be pleased at all.
And Victor was correct. Once he had Alfonse on the phone and he explained the strange happenings, he could hear the man rattle off a string of curses that even made him blush. When the big man finally took a breath, Victor said, "We should send some cleaners in to take care of things in the apartment. We don't want any traces of our men in Rosa's place."
"Of course not. I'll get on the phone immediately and send in a team. But are you certain our men are dead?" Alfonse asked.
"I'm assuming so. I could go check if you want, but this group is starting to head out with Rosa. Don't you think I should follow?" Victor inquired.
"Yes, follow. By all means, follow. I don't want my daughter out of your sight. I want to know who these people are she's with and I want her back," Alfonse insisted.
The Suburban's lights flicked on and the vehicle started to roll out of the parking lot. Victor started his own car's engine and said, "They're heading out, Alfonse. I'll sign off now. I'm right behind them."
He too wanted Rosalinda back-at any cost.
****
Her brain was foggy and her eyes refused to focus causing her eyelids to flutter shut again and again. Rose continued to try and force her eyes open, hoping that eventually she would be able to focus on something.
Finally, after much effort, she made out the contours of a ceiling fan swirling above her.
Where was she?
She had no ceiling fan in her room and wasn't she in her room when she had gone to bed?
She licked at her dry lips and felt the scratchiness of her throat. Her head pounded something awful and her stomach ached as if she had not eaten in days.
Something was not right. Was she sick? Is that why she felt so horrible and why her vision blurred as she tried to make out individual objects around her?
Then she heard them. Voices. People were talking quietly in the room. Again, she attempted to make out her surroundings and when she was finally able to zero in on the dark beige walls in need of painting and the wooden shutters that covered a window, she was positive she was not in her room.
"Oh my god," she breathed once she realized her surroundings. Then she remembered the man in black and a cold fear seized her. "No," she cried softly.
"You're awake," a female voice said as a woman moved next to her, sitting on the bed and looking her over with earnest. "How do you feel?"
Rose moved her eyes to focus on the woman at her side and the effort caused her head to hurt. After several moments of pained effort, Rose was able to make out the beautifully exotic features of the woman she had seen in Ali's apartment.
If things weren't strange enough already, recognizing this woman had just convinced Rose that she had awoken in an episode of the X-Files. Hadn't her father's men gotten to her? If so, what was Ali's friend doing here?
"Ali?" she finally asked.
"Ali's not here right now. He'll be back shortly," the woman answered.
"Where am I? What.happened?"
"You are safe," was all the woman would say and that was all Rose had time to hear before she again fell into that heavy haze that she had struggled to escape from for only a few moments.
****
Rose forced herself awake again, and this time the effort was easier than the first. As she looked around at the room she occupied, its sparse furniture nothing remarkable, she wondered if she had dreamed the woman at her bedside. But after a few minutes, the woman reappeared, carrying a glass of water.
"Here. Drink while you are conscious," the woman said.She assisted Rose with the glass and the effort to drink caused her head to pound furiously.
Rose reached up and felt a huge lump on the left side of her head. Weakly she asked, "What hit me?"
"A very large man with a gun," the woman said.
"Who?"
"We were hoping you could tell us that."
Rose gave her head a small shake though her memory was returning full force. Until she knew more about where she was and what was happening, she would divulge nothing.
"Who are you?" Rose finally inquired.
Putting the glass of water down on a small side table, the woman sighed and reluctantly revealed, "My name is Yasmeen."
"I saw you with Ali," Rose said.
"Yes. I was there to accompany him home," she explained.
"Where is he now?" Rose asked, praying the woman answered that he was nearby.
"He is here. I will get him for you."
The woman was gone from Rose's view and a moment later, Ali appeared. Rose couldn't have been happier to see him. He was dressed in a white T-shirt and khaki pants, his hair pulled back in a ponytail and his glasses again upon his face. She remembered when she had last glimpsed him, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his hair falling in waves past his collar, and she wondered if that sexy look had been a dream for he was again looking like his usual, reserved self.
"Rose," he said with a smile as he sat down on the side of the bed and placed a warm hand upon her face. "How are you feeling?"
"Groggy. What happened?"
"You were attacked," he answered her.
"By who?"
"You don't know?" Ali inquired.
"I've never seen that man before," Rose decided to say. Again, she was hesitant to divulge information about her past and her attacker even to Ali.
Ali sighed and it sounded as if he was displeased with her answer.
"Are you certain?" he asked.
Rose nodded though the action hurt.
"Where are we? How did I get away from that man?" Rose questioned, suddenly feeling as if she were still in a bizarre dream.
Ali hesitated and looked squarely at Rose's face.
"You do trust me, don't you, Rose?" he asked.
"Of course. You're the only person I trust." Her answer was the truth. She could trust no one else except Ali. Even though she had not burdened him with her terrible life story, she trusted him.
Her trust, however, could not prepare her for his answer. When she heard his words, she blinked several times trying to digest the truth.
"Egypt?" she asked, aghast. "We're in Egypt?"
"Yes. I told you, Rose, I had to come back here. And when I found that man attacking you in your apartment, I felt I had no choice but to take you away from whatever had happened. At the time, the only logical solution seemed to bring you here with me."
"It seemed logical for you to bring me to another continent?" she shot out.
Ali stood and glared down at her with a look Rose had never seen upon his face before.
"Would you rather I called the authorities and tried to explain why there were two dead men in your apartment?" Ali inquired.
Rose wished her brain wasn't quite so groggy. She wished she could fathom all that Ali had just revealed but it was impossible.
"Two men? Dead? Ali, what happened?" Rose asked.
"First answer me if you would rather I had called the authorities back in California," he demanded.
Slowly, Rose said, "No. I would not have wanted that."
"Because you are hiding something?" he guessed.
Rose felt her stomach twist and turn and she wondered if it was caused from her injury or from the realization that her life had once again been turned completely upside down. She couldn't stand the way Ali was looking at her, nor could she reveal to him about her past life. There was too much she just wanted to forget.
"Ali," Rose said quietly, her vision blurring at the edges. "If we are truly in Egypt, then the incident in my apartment can not follow us here."
Ali nodded at her words and regained his seat next to her on the bed. His face had softened at her explanation.
"If you are certain, Rose, then I believe you," he told her. "Now rest. We have a long journey ahead of us soon."
"What journey?" she inquired.
"To my village," he answered. "We are in Cairo now and as soon as you are well, we will leave."
Rose had a million other questions, yet her body could no longer remain awake long enough to ask them. She felt Ali's touch upon her face, a few soft words issued from his mouth in that rich tone of his and then she was out.
****
"Is she asleep again?" Yasmeen inquired as Ali exited Rose's bedroom with a perplexed look upon his face.
He nodded.
"Did she offer you any explanation?" Yasmeen then asked.
Sighing as he sat on the dark couch in the living space between the two bedrooms of the hotel suite they were using, Ali didn't answer her right away. Instead, he reran Rose's words through his brain. Finally, he said, "She insists the incident in California is no longer a threat-especially here."
"Yes, but who were those men? What was that attack all about?" Yasmeen asked as she sat on the couch next to him and looked him squarely in the face with some anxiety.
Ali smiled at her for the first time since they'd been reunited and replied, "Yasmeen, do not worry so. Whatever happened back in Rose's apartment only has to do with her, not with us. We need to only worry about the terrorist faction that is searching the desert for the Fortress of Aten."
His words only seemed to lessen the worry a fraction that resided upon her face.
"Yes, the fortress is a major concern, but Rose concerns me too. I doubt that her problems have anything to do with us, but what if her problems make their way here to Egypt? We could be hindered in our efforts," Yasmeen pointed out.
Ali stood then and paced the floor of the hotel. They had rented a suite in a hotel that was well off the beaten path of the usual tourist trail. Their accommodations were adequate enough for their purposes and the hotel manager was a person who asked no questions. They had dealt with him on numerous occasions before and Ali knew their identities and purpose would be kept quiet.
"That is a possibility," Ali agreed.
"Then why bring her here with us?" Yasmeen asked.
With a sarcastic smile, Ali countered, "It is a bit late for that. She is already here."
"Yes, but she needn't travel with us home. Leave her here in Cairo with someone you trust to see to her safety. You know it would be little effort to get her a forged passport and then have her sent wherever she desires to go."
Ali studied Yasmeen's face carefully for he could not tell whether she was making this suggestion because she was truly worried or just because she wanted to toy with him.
"I could send her away," Ali began.
"But you won't," Yasmeen finished for him. "You care for her, don't you?"
"Like I said, she is my."
Yasmeen interrupted. "Yes, yes. She is your friend. I understand that. But that is not what I meant."
"I know what you meant," Ali snapped. "And what if I do care for her? What difference does it make?"
Standing, Yasmeen explained, "The difference it makes, Ali, is that once she discovers that you are not really that simple, ordinary computer programmer you have pretended to be for the past two years she may not care much for you in return."
"But I am a computer programmer," he returned, hoping to sound light now that they had focused on his private life.
"Of course you were and are," she said with some frustration. "Just as I am a nurse and several others of our young people are educated professionals in some modern skill. Yet you know that few people live our true lives. Few people understand our duty, our long history to keep watch over the desert. And very, very few people would willingly give up their culture and life to join us, no matter how much they may care for one of us."
Ali remained silent, so Yasmeen continued. "Are you honestly going to reveal all that you are, all that we are, to Rose in the hopes that she's one of the few who would understand and remain in the middle of the desert to help carry out our centuries old work? Are you going to take that chance?"
Slowly, Ali answered, "I may take that chance because I have a feeling Rose is not exactly what she seems on the outside either. That attack in California proves that to me."
Sarcastically, Yasmeen snapped, "So because her life is a lie, she'll understand your lie? Is that your reasoning, Ali?"
"Enough!" he growled, tired of her insistent questions. "Rose is coming back with us. I will hear no more argument."
Yasmeen threw him a cool stare with her light brown eyes and crossed her arms over her well-endowed chest. "Just like your father Aarif and your grandfather Ardeth. When your authority is questioned, you turn into a tyrant."
Narrowing his own eyes on her face, Ali replied roughly, "Because we were once childhood friends, Yasmeen, I will allow your comment.this time. Do not dare utter such remarks once the men have arrived."
She closed her mouth, making no further verbal comment, but her face and eyes still conveyed her defiance.
Frustrated as only Yasmeen could make him, Ali turned on his heal and headed for the door. "Remain here with Rose. I have phone calls to make to the museum and to the university." He left with no further word and closed the door with a loud thud behind him.
By the time he had descended the three flights of stairs and landed in the lobby, his frustration had subsided. Yasmeen could cause his tempter to flare quickly, but she could not affect him for long. Though they knew each other well, Ali held no feelings for Yasmeen beyond friendship, so her taunts only touched the surface of his emotions. Now if Rose were spewing such words his way, Ali knew they would cut deeply for he was realizing that his emotions ran wide and true for her.
Ali phoned his contacts at both the museum and the university. For the past century, his people had fostered trusted contacts in those vital institutions. In fact, his uncle on his mother's side was the current curator at the museum and it was his information that was most vital today.
"We have known for several months that a dangerous group was searching the desert for the Fortress of Aten. Yet as you know, we worried little because they had focused their attention west, almost in Libya," his uncle Saed said over the phone.
"Yes, of course," Ali answered, already having been briefed on this information three months ago when he had returned home for his father's funeral. It was this renegade organization that had been responsible for his father's death. His people were quite certain they had sent an assassin to kill his father in the hopes that taking out the leader of their clan would cause confusion and delay action by the desert warriors. Yet the group had miscalculated the organization and determination of Ali's desert people, for they had barely faltered at the death of their chief, and now Ali was back in Egypt to claim his post as the next chief and their duty would continue as always.
"Now, however," Saed continued, "they have moved east through the Sahara and I fear they are closing in. Apparently, they have hired a historian from Europe who is quite adept with Egyptian mythology and history." He paused and asked, "Have you spoken with Ahmad at the university yet?"
"Not yet. We have just arrived in Cairo yesterday morning," Ali explained. "I am awaiting my men before I make any further moves or contacts. I was going to call him next."
"I will save you a quarter," Saed said, "and tell you all that he knows as well. This historian is making progress and we need to be worried. I fear that this man may be able to decipher the historic clues and locate the fortress. He already has the Staff of the Sun."
"What?" Ali asked too loudly, then glanced around to ensure he had not drawn attention to himself. "How? I thought that was locked safely away in London. Grandfather had seen to that decades ago."
"As we all thought. But we have just recently been informed that there was a break-in at the London Museum several months ago. That is why you have been summoned home so early, Ali. Didn't anyone explain this to you?"
"No. But I do not believe my escorts knew all this information yet. The Council sent Yasmeen and she hinted at something that was dangerous, but did not elaborate," Ali explained.
"That is because she knows nothing more. The Council knows, I know, Ahmad knows. That is all until you feel the need to discuss the situations with your people."
Ali nodded though the gesture was unseen by his uncle. Much information had just been passed his way that he needed to mull over before his men arrived in the morning. He needed to plot a course of action to deal with the terrorists and figure out what to do with Rose. He had complicated matters by bringing her along to Egypt, yet in his heart he knew he had done what was best for her. And when it came to Rose, he was starting to think more with his heart than with his brain.
"Ali?" his uncle questioned when the silence remained.
"Yes, Saed, I am here," he answered. "I was thinking."
"There is much to think about. Ahmad and myself have been querying over this situation for days ourselves. We even contacted our friend in the government, for if these men who killed your father gain access to the fortress who knows what type of power they could wield."
"And of course, the government said they are concerned, but unable to assist," Ali replied dryly.
"Exactly," Saed stated.
This was no surprise to Ali for the Egyptian government had responded the exact same way to each new threat. They always mentioned their concern and would grant Ali's people much leeway in handling the situation, but they would be unable to assist for it was not a political matter.
Ali wondered if their government would consider it a political matter if the renegade group discovered how to wield the power of the fortress and hold the world virtually hostage. Certainly then, it would be a political matter! Yet for now, as it had been for centuries, his people were on their own to defend the secrets of the pharaohs.
And there were many secrets. Most historians knew of the myths of ancient Egypt, but few believed in them. Ali, however, believed in all of them, for it had been proven several times over the course of history, that they were real. Dangerously real. His father had died trying to protect those secrets as several other chiefs throughout time had perished. And if fate so deemed it, Ali too would die protecting the "myths" of the Sahara. It was in his blood.
"Well, it appears as if for now, we are on our own," Ali said, though it was already known by both men.
Ali was about to bid his farewell, when his mind again wandered back to Rose. Something about that night in California was still nagging at him. Though Rose had insisted that her troubles could not possibly follow them to Egypt, Ali still felt something strange in his bones. Taking a chance, he briefly explained to his uncle what had happened.
"Saed, I wanted to ask you a favor," Ali said. "It is something completely unconnected with the fortress, but I would like a bit of help just the same."
"Anything, Ali."
"A friend of mine had some troubles in America. I am not exactly clear on the details yet, for she was injured and is still recovering."
"She?" Saed asked with interest.
Ignoring his uncle, Ali continued. "She is now here in Egypt."
"With you?" Saed interrupted to question.
Not bothering to answer his uncle, Ali repeated, "She is in Egypt and I have only a vague concern that she is not out of danger. But by chance if she is in danger, would you please keep an eye out for anyone inquiring of an American woman?"
Ali heard his uncle sigh over the phone, then finally he answered, "Yes, of course."
"Thank you, Saed. Now, I must go. You know where we are if you need to contact us."
Ali hung up though he was positive his uncle had wanted to ask more of Rose. Yet Ali had purposely ended the conversation quickly for he had very little he could pass on about Rose or her situation.
***