Favoured Friends

Part 24/?

Summary: An invitation to the National Egyptology Conference quickly becomes deadly race for the mythic Ichriem against an old rival of Sydney's - the assassin known only as 'the Viper'.

Note: This is a round robin originally posted at the Relic Hunter Yahoo Group. Although I'm posting it, I did not write the entire thing. This part was written by Cari Loran ( carilorus@yahoo.com )

Also, I have Support Services. That means that, if you want, you can put me on Author Alert and receive notice when other stories of mine are posted, even if you haven't paid yourself.

Posted: Sunday, May 11, 2003 (Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there!)

"Where are we going?" Preston whispered quietly, having been skulking through the back streets of Cairo for nearly fifteen minutes.

The panoramic colors of the Egyptian sunset had faded into purple dusk, growing darker with each passing moment. Any shops that presided along the partial cobblestone and mostly dust path they now followed had since closed, their shuttered entryways only lending to the notion they were moving into the unknown.

All around them lights and lamps began to glow through the sporadically placed windows of dilapidated buildings, but they did little to lessen the shadows on the street. "We're almost there." Derek answered, shifting Sydney in his arms. He liked to think he was in good shape, but carrying around 125 pounds of relic hunter wasn't something he could do for much longer. "I know a guy around here that can help us."

Preston thought the remark sounded cryptic. "A guy?" he repeated. Why did spies always seem to 'know a guy' everywhere they went? "And what sort of fellow is this 'guy'?"

Derek paused long enough to glance up at a sandblasted sign painted on a wall, then turned down a passageway to the right. "He's an old friend... he helped me out a few months ago, really saved my ass." He didn't like thinking about his last excursion to the city, it had almost been his last excursion anywhere. "He used to be a doctor before he retired a few years ago. Don't worry about it huh?"

Preston took the hint and remained silent as he followed the agent down another twisting byway. He only hoped the man knew where he was going. They'd taken so many turns down the coiling alleys and back streets of Cairo, he was starting to feel a unsettling kinship to a rat in a maze. Glancing behind him, Preston saw Claudia and the mysterious new member of their group, Amarja, following right at his heels. The later glancing up occasionally as though expecting assassins to leap from the rooftops.

Ahead of him, Derek suddenly came to a stop near a door that almost blended into the surrounding wall. "Preston," he whispered, gesturing for the other man to take charge of Sydney.

The Briton stepped forward, carefully taking the limp form into his arms. Free of his burden, Lloyd smoothly drew his gun and gestured for the others to stand back. Taking up a position at the side of the door, he gripped his pistol in his left hand, using his right to knock an odd rhythm on the wood. After a moment, an accented voice came from behind the door. "Who is it?"

"It's Derek, Omar." He took a breath and delivered the pass phrase. "Is it the ides of March?"

"Not today," came the reply, "Rome is quiet."

Derek let out a sigh of relief and lowered his weapon. Seconds later the sound of a deadbolt opening reached his ears and the wooden door opened inward. A rather wizened face emerged from the opening and quickly took in the situation, gesturing for everyone to come inside. "Quickly," he advised. He looked to Derek in concern as Preston carried Sydney through the door, quickly followed by Amarja and Claudia. "What has happened my friend?"

"We ran into trouble," Derek explained, following Dr. Omar Rashid into the living room. "Can you take a look at my friend for me?" He pulled the pill bottle from his pocket and showed it to the old man. "I think someone tampered with her medication."

Omar took the bottle and frowned, prying off the top and shaking one of the pills into his hand. He studied it momentarily, then lifted it to his lips and tasted it with the tip of his tongue. It definitely wasn't the painkiller that was supposed to be in the bottle. "It's Oxazepam," he diagnosed. "A prescription benzodiazepine."

Derek frowned. He knew that word. "You mean it's a tranquilizer?"

"Yes," the Egyptian doctor bobbed his head. "Each one of these pills is ten milligrams." He moved to the couch where Preston placed Sydney and knelt beside her, carefully slipping a hand to her throat and checking her pulse. "How many did she have and when?"

Derek thought back to the hotel, how he'd watched Sydney shake the pills into her hand and grumble about having to take them. "Two," he answered. "About twenty minutes ago."

The old man shook his head, causing everyone in the room to slump in relief. "The dosage is too small... Her system has just been temporarily tranquilized."

"You mean she's asleep?" Claudia squeaked, standing at the head of the couch and looking anxiously down at her boss.

Omar smiled and stood. "Yes, very deeply at the moment, but she should be fine in a few hours."

Preston furrowed his brow, glancing at the doctor, then back to Derek. Something didn't make sense. "Why would they exchange a tranquilizer for her medication if they knew she wouldn't take enough to harm herself?"

"They were probably trying to slow us down," Derek answered thoughtfully. "Make us more vulnerable..." he shook his head and shrugged. "Either that or they're just stupid as hell and picked the wrong drug to swap out."

Claudia reached over and laid her hand over Sydney's. "Are you sure this stuff..." she scrunched up her face to remember what he'd called the drug, "... Oxazepam? Won't hurt her?"

The doctor shook his head, meeting the secretary's concerned gaze with his kindly brown eyes. "I wouldn't worry. It's a very common drug, many people take much larger doses than the one she has. But tell me, what was she taking the Darvon for?"

"She was stabbed." Claudia answered, pointing to her own back for illustration.

"Stabbed?" The old man echoed, kneeling beside the unconscious relic hunter once more and carefully rolling her over to check the wound. He lifted the back of her blouse and probed the area for a moment, then settled her back into place with a grunt of satisfaction. "It seems to be healing well, there's no infection." He stood and moved back towards Lloyd. "The stitches may be bothering her though, when she wakes up I can give her some salve that should help."

Derek smiled. Omar was ever the professional, it was as if he'd never stopped practicing medicine. "You haven't lost your touch."

Dr. Rashid turned to the agent, clapping him on the arm. "Neither have you my friend... you still find trouble." He cast his eyes up and down the younger man and remembered his condition the last time they'd crossed paths. He'd known Derek Lloyd for nearly five years, and had feared their friendship was over a few short months ago when the agent appeared beaten and bloody on his doorstep one night. "So what is it this time? Who has stabbed your friend and tampered with her medication?"

Derek exhaled. "It's a long story Omar." He then launched into a short explanation, ending with why they'd fled the hotel. "No one saw the shooting, and I'm not even sure it'll be reported. If someone at the hotel was in league with that guy, they probably hustled the body out of there before the police showed up." He looked to Amarja. "I think it's about time you filled us in sweetheart."

The Hindu woman looked up, paused to gather some strength, and began speaking in a soft voice. "It started over a week ago. I was with Dr. Reynold here in Cairo. We had come in to talk to the police about Davis Campbell, he was Artie's dig assistant. They'd found his jeep outside of town, but not a trace of him." She paused and wrung her hands. "Dr. Reynold was upset, he loved Davis liked a son and didn't think the police were trying hard enough to find him. I told him he had to have faith." She swallowed hard. "When we left the station, there were some men following us. Dr. Reynold noticed them, and said he had a bad feeling... That was when he told me he was going to send me away."

Tears glistened the woman's eyes and Omar passed her a tissue. "What happened next?" Derek prodded gently.

Amarja took a shuddering breath. "He wanted me to go back to the university, but told me he'd call me back to the dig when it was safe. He said that if I didn't hear from him, I should contact Sydney Fox... He said he was going to send her something so she'd know Ichriem was real."

"The wooden statue," Preston supplied.

"Yes," Amarja confirmed, a light smile touched her face. "He carved it himself..." she trailed off, apparently not wanting to focus on the memory. "I did what he wanted, I went back to the university and waited for his call, but it never came. It was about that time that I began to think I might be being followed." She shook her head. "I didn't want them to know what I was doing, which was why I went to the Egyptology conference in New York… I remembered Dr. Reynolds was planning on going, and hoped I might find Professor Fox there."

"And this is when you talked to Nigel?" Derek asked, remembering her rambling narrative at the hotel room. He noticed Preston lean forward slightly at the mention of his brother's name.

The woman dipped her head. "I saw him and Professor Fox come into the ballroom, but I couldn't just go up to them... I knew I was still being followed, so I tore the corner from a piece of stationery I found in the trashcan and wrote her a note."

Derek nodded. That safely explained the origin of the mysterious note.

Amarja continued. "I didn't get a chance to write much, but I hoped that along with the statue Artie was sending her, she'd understand what it meant. When I finished with the note, I noticed Mr. Bailey was alone, so I went to talk to him. I had just started to explain things to him when I thought I saw one of my shadows... I didn't want him to see who I talking to so I passed Mr. Bailey the note and left. I thought I'd have another chance to talk to both of them, but then I learned Professor Fox had been stabbed."

Derek kept his expression unreadable, his mind overlaying her version of events with what he already knew and scanning for inconsistencies. So far everything matched up. "When did you find out The Viper was involved?"

"Yesterday." She answered. "When I was in New York I got a call from a hospital here in Cairo, the police had found Davis, but they said he was unconscious and in critical condition. I got back here as soon as I could, it was the least I could do for Artie... I knew he wouldn't want him to be alone." She reached in the pocket of her silk trousers and withdrew a photograph, handing it to Derek.

The agent studied the picture, which depicted four smiling people standing in a rocky wasteland. The person he could only assume was Reynold stood in the middle. He was a white-haired, fatherly-looking figure with a deep tan and a wiry frame. In one hand he held a shovel, but his other hand was clapped on the shoulder of a young man standing beside him. Davis Campbell, no doubt.

The kid was probably about Nigel's age, but had sun-bleached blond hair and the build of college quarterback. A pair of thin-rimmed
glasses sat on his nose, shattering his outward 'jock' persona and giving him a strong impression of intelligence.

On the other side of Reynolds stood Amarja, who wore a bright smile and had her arm wrapped comfortably around the waist of the unknown fourth figure in the picture... A man about her age who also appeared to be Hindustani.

Amarja pointed out the people in the picture. "This was taken about two weeks ago. That's Dr. Reynolds, and Davis, and me, and..." she couldn't seem to keep an almost dreamy note from her voice, "...my fiancée Rajiv."

Claudia leaned forward to study the picture with girlish curiosity at the word 'fiancée'. "Ooo." She toned in approval at the dark-haired man who sported a friendly smile. "Very nice." Her eyes then traveled across the picture and grew wide at the sight of Davis Campbell. *Definitely a cutie* she mused, then realized Amarja had broken her story off, leaving the newly found cutie in critical condition. "So what happened at the hospital?" She hoped it was good news.

"When I first got there," the other woman continued, accepting the photograph back from Derek, "Davis was still unconscious." She stared down at the picture momentarily. "He woke up the day before yesterday, but was too disoriented to make any sense, I don't think he even knew who I was." She shook her head. "But he's been getting better, and last night he remembered what happened and told me about The Viper."

"The Viper's the one who ran his jeep off the road?" Derek asked for confirmation. "How did he get away?"

"He doesn't know, but he thinks he was let go"

The agent arched an eyebrow. "He let him go?" That didn't sound like The Viper. Was the international mercenary losing his edge?

Amarja nodded. "Yes, he said the man was looking for information. At first he wouldn't tell him anything, and he was..." her voice cracked, "... beaten." She dabbed at her nose with the tissue, taking a moment before continuing. "Finally the man threatened to kill Dr. Reynold unless he cooperated. Davis said he told him everything he could after that, he didn't think Ichriem was more important than Artie's life."

"Did he actually see Dr. Reynold there?" Preston asked.

"I don't know," the Hindustani shook her head. "But I think Davis thought he was... and he would have done anything to save him. He said after he'd finally given the information, the man told him he admired his devotion, and gave him some kind of injection. That's the last thing he remembers until he woke up in the hospital."

Derek mulled over the information and looked across the room to Preston. He could tell the other man was growing antsy... his little brother had been kidnapped, and now he was being forced to sit in a parlor and listen to what had happened to another victim of the same kidnapper. Hell, Derek thought it was frustrating, and he wasn't even family. "All right, so where do you think The Viper is?" It was time to get down to business.

"Morocco." Amarja answered without hesitation. "There's a small island off the coast called Mer de Tueur, that's where Dr. Reynold thought the statue was hidden."

"Morocco?" Preston echoed in surprise. "I was under the impression he was digging here in Egypt."

"He was," she answered. "Up until a month ago. Dr. Reynold uncovered a tablet at the old site that led him to the island. I don't know the exact translation though, Artie and Davis kept it to themselves."

"Oh man," Derek ran a hand across his face, suddenly acutely aware of recent events and of how little sleep he'd had since the whole mess began. He needed coffee... A lot of it... and he needed it now.

End Part Twenty-Four