Chapter Nine: Old Acquaintance

Selina Marshall mounted the stairs to her apartment slowly, pulling the wide-brimmed hat from her head as she went. She felt unutterably weary.

The shutters had been closed against the scorching afternoon sun and the small room she called home was dark. The meagre lighting from the landing was cut off when she closed the door, plunging her dingy surroundings into further gloom.

She didn't notice the figure sitting in the corner and started violently at the voice that suddenly spoke her name out of the shadows.

'Hello, Selina.'

She pressed herself against the wall, her eyes wide. 'Wh-who are... What do you want?'

'Hey, there's no need to be unfriendly. Or are you just surprised to see me?'

Rick O'Connell unfolded his large frame from the chair and crossed the room to her bureau. He scooped up a handful of items from her jewellery box and observed them thoughtfully, letting the shimmering objects slip back through his fingers. 'I was just testing a little theory of mine. Y'know, your rich girl act works at first, but it's this junk that gives you away. I've been around enough treasure in my time to know knockoffs when I see 'em.'

There was a long, unpleasant pause.

'I used to have a place like this,' he added. 'Only, they come cheaper if you don't mind not having a ceiling fan. Just a little advice for future reference.'

She licked her lips; her mouth and throat had become unnaturally dry. 'How did you find me?'

'I'm not gonna lie to you, it took some time. We started at the usual places - well, what we thought would be usual for you. And guess what? No-one had a clue where you lived. Which got me to thinking about this junk.' He picked a ring out of the box and held it up, inspecting it calmly before dropping it again. 'Then I asked a few old acquaintances if they knew anything about you. As it turns out, there actually aren't too many English girls living in this quarter of Cairo. Who knew. You're a local celebrity around here.' Rick leaned against the dresser and looked her up and down. 'How much did you get paid to act as bait?'

'I didn't know that was going to happen,' she said quickly.

He raised an eyebrow. 'Now, why don't I believe that?'

'It's true! I-I was just supposed to telephone you, to tell you where to go. I didn't know about the bomb, I swear!'

Her heart was beating unnaturally fast. She tried to calculate the distance to the door, but guessed - correctly, no doubt - that he would intercept her before she reached it. He seemed to fill her small room, the closed shutters only adding to the sense of claustrophobia.

'How did you..?'

He laughed mirthlessly. 'How did we get out? Luckily for us, Jonathan's car never starts the first time.'

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

Jonathan turned the key in the ignition. The engine let out a half-hearted rattle, sputtered and fell silent.

'For God's sake!' Jonathan hit the dashboard.

The sound was so faint that Rick wasn't quite certain that he had heard it. Jonathan, still raging about his car, was oblivious.

'Jonathan...'

'I don't know why I bloody keep this thing, I really bloody don't!'

Ticking. He was certain of it now and even before he formed the next word, he had started to move.

'Jonathan!'

The Englishman broke off in the middle of his diatribe and turned enquiringly to his companion. Rick didn't stop for explanations, but simply grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the car. He threw himself across the street, hauling Jonathan behind him.

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

He smiled at her. Well, not truly a smile: it didn't reach his eyes. He bared his teeth at her. 'So, that's my party-piece for today. Now it's your turn. Where's Evelyn?'

'I don't know.'

He crossed the room in a single stride, grabbing hold of her arm and drawing her closer to him.

'Let's try that again, shall we? Where is she?'

'P-please, don't. I-'

'Skip it. You're gonna tell me what I want to know. Or I'll tear this city apart with my bare hands to find her. Starting with you.'

He increased the grip on her arm - not enough to actually hurt her, but enough to make her think that he would. Rick O'Connell had never struck a woman in his life and he took no pleasure in menacing Selina. But he saw fear in the depths of her eyes and knew, with grim certainty, that she would tell him what she knew.

'I don't know where Evelyn is, truly I don't.'

'Who told you to call me?'

'Please let go of my arm, I'll tell you everything.'

He studied her face and then released her abruptly. 'Okay, lady, spill.'

She smoothed down her hair with one hand, keeping her eyes on his face. 'It was David Barton. He was at the Embassy reception,' she added in response to his questioning look.

Rick stiffened. He remembered Barton only too clearly. The guy had had 'bad news' written all over him, but he'd been too busy acting like a jerk to notice much at the time. He berated himself inwardly.

'So he paid you, huh?'

Selina dropped her eyes, studying a little patch of floor.

'Yes. I'm not proud of it. But I was desperate!' She looked up at him again, her eyes shimmering with tears. 'Well, you can see how I live. There's nothing, and he -he...'

Rick had never known what to do when girls cried. He was good with practical solutions to practical problems - emotional messiness was something he usually managed to avoid. Selina's tears made him uncomfortable, but not uncomfortable enough to be distracting. A heavy dose of scepticism may be seen as a vice, but it was a quality that had served him very well in the past.

'You're breaking my heart. C'mon, knock it off. You can find a shoulder to cry on later.'

Selina glared at him, her face momentarily losing its prettiness. She looked almost rat-like before she recovered herself. 'He knew Evelyn would be at the party and he asked me to take him as a guest. I didn't think it would do any harm. Then, last night, he told me to telephone you about Evelyn - he told me what to say. He said it was a joke.'

'Yeah, it was real funny, Selina. Where are they now?'

She shook her head. 'I don't know, I don't!' She held up her hands defensively as he advanced on her again. There was an unearthly light in the depths of his blue eyes and Selina was quite certain that he was capable of carrying out his threat of mass destruction if he didn't get his fiancée back. What was it about Evelyn Carnahan, she wondered, that affected all these men so deeply? All right, she could keep David Barton - he was very definitely not Selina's type - but Rick O'Connell... Now he was something different altogether. This thought gave Selina an idea and she decided to try a new approach.

'He doesn't want to hurt her,' she said softly. 'David just wants her back - they used to be very much an item, you know.' She moved closer to him, turning her face up to his. 'They're quite a well matched pair, really. All of that studying and getting lost in books. You're a man of the world - you need someone who can keep up with you.' She placed both hands flat on his chest. 'Someone who is willing to do whatever you need them to, or want them too...'

Rick observed her thoughtfully for a moment. 'Sister, I'm not as dumb as I look. How much are getting paid for those moves?'

She drew back, her face distorting in anger. 'They have names for men like you,' she spat viciously.

'They have names for broads like you, too. But ever since I met Evelyn, I've been trying to improve my manners.'

'Get out.'

'We're not quite done yet.'

'If you don't get out, I'll start screaming!'

'People around here don't usually get involved in other people's business. You can scream all you like - I don't think anyone will come.'

Selina stiffened, biting her lower lip, but remained silent.

'For someone who doesn't know much about all this, you seem to know a lot about Barton's, er, motivation.' He watched her. 'Last chance, Selina. Where are they?'

'I really don't know. David just told me what he was going to do and paid me to help him. He said Evelyn would be fine.' She shrugged. 'And that's it. He may be a little ... extreme ... but he isn't dangerous. I wouldn't have become involved if he were.'

Rick let out a low whistle. 'How dumb can you get? He's tried to kill me and Jonathan, Selina. If I were you, I'd get out of here before he decides to go for you. But if anything has happened to Evelyn, I swear hiding won't do you any damn good. Because I will find you.'

She was pressed against the wall, torn between anger and fear, all of the colour drained from her face. He loomed over her and she closed her eyes, involuntarily shrinking away from him. She started when the door suddenly slammed shut.

Jonathan was waiting for him in the corridor.

'Still struck on her?'

Jonathan shook his head. 'I can't believe it. She always... I mean, I know she's a bit... God, I'd love to wring her bloody neck!'

Rick managed to laugh at this. 'Get in line.'

The two men started down the creaking staircase, ignoring the pairs of dark eyes that watched them through the cracks of barely-open doors.

'Are you sure that she told you everything?'

'She was too scared not to.'

'But were still no further forward! We still don't know where Evy is'

Rick turned to face him. 'We know who did this. It's a start Jonathan. We'll find her.'

There it was again - that absolute certainty. Jonathan nodded and they both continued down the stairs.

The air outside was heavy - a low blanket of cloud locking an oppressive heat into the city. Jonathan loosened the collar of his shirt, squirming in the heat. His clothes were dusty and were now sticking to him in the clammy heat. His entire body felt bruised and aching from when Rick had thrown him to the ground in those agonising few seconds before the explosion. Jonathan was quite certain that, firstly, his shoulder had nearly been dislocated and, secondly, that his hearing was permanently impaired.

'So, what now?'

'Back to the hotel. I need to pick up some stuff.'

One look at Rick's face told Jonathan exactly what "stuff" was - guns, and lots of them.

'I hope Evy's bloody grateful for all this trouble we're going to,' he grumbled, following Rick down the street and rubbing his shoulder meaningfully. 'You know, we could just leave her with Barton for a few days - might cure her of wanting adventures.'

'Jonathan-'

'Yes, old man?'

Rick blew out a breath, smiling in spite of himself. 'Nothing. Just come on.'

It was, Rick found to his surprise, comforting to hear Jonathan's complaints about Evelyn. It meant that he was feeling more confident about her safety and their chances of finding her. He glanced at the Englishman and realised - properly, for the first time - that they would soon be brothers-in-law. This man would be family. Rick shook his head rapidly.

That was a crisis to be dealt with on another day.

When Rick opened the door to their hotel room, it was his turn to start at the sight of an unexpected guest.

Ardeth Bey stood in the middle of the room. With his flowing black robes and tattooed face, he posed a somewhat anachronistic figure. He smiled slightly at the numerous Arabic epithets that Rick eloquently hurled at him and then bowed gravely.

'Salaam.'

'Yeah, right back at ya. Jeez, you scared the living... What the hell are you doing here? '

'Yes,' Jonathan added, heading directly for the drinks tray. 'Shouldn't you be out in the desert guarding something? Protecting humanity from assorted curses and whatnot? Oh, er, drink?'

'Thank-you, but no.'

'Right. I'll have yours.'

Rick was watching their visitor closely. He didn't know Ardeth very well, and the Medjai's inscrutable face was not easily read, but he could sense that there was something troubling him. And his appearance now, on this of all days, could not be a coincidence.

'So, what, you were just passing by on your camel and decided to pay a social call?'

'There is a matter of grave importance, which I must discuss with you.'

Jonathan leaned back in a chair, placing his feet on the table. 'Not that we're not happy to see you, and all that, old chap, but we're in the middle of a crisis of our own. Can't really spare the time. If you come back next week-'

'This concerns one of your countrymen,' Ardeth insisted. 'A David Barton.'

'But he's-' Jonathan noticed Rick's warning look and fell silent.

'What about him?' the American asked.

'He has disturbed something that should not have been disturbed. A terrible force that has been sleeping for thousands of years.'

'Great. Where have I heard this before. What's this got to do with us?'

'We believe that he stole something from the museum last night. I am hoping that Evelyn - Miss Carnahan, will be able to help us.'

'What he stole was Evelyn,' Rick said softly. 'He kidnapped her.'

Ardeth looked between them and then lowered his dark eyes. 'She will be safe. Allah will watch over her.'

'He better had,' Rick growled. A new thought came to him. 'How did you know the museum had been burgled?'

'Two men, who we know are in your Mr Barton's employment, were seen leaving-'

'And you let them go? You-you let them take her?'

Most men would have cowered in the face of the American's anger. Ardeth Bey was not most men. He looked at Rick unflinchingly.

'We did not know what they had taken. We were too late to see.' His dark eyes softened, sympathy clearly written in their depths. 'If I had known what they had done, I would not have permitted them to return to their master. We followed them.'

Silence.

'Then you know where Evy is!' Jonathan sat upright, spilling the remnants of his drink.

'There are things you must know first.'

'I don't need to know any more, Ardeth, just tell me where the hell they've taken Evelyn.' Rick was already across the room, yanking open drawers and retrieving his personal arsenal of weaponry.

Ardeth sighed. He admired the foreigner's strength, but his impetuousness... 'It is not so simple, my friend. This is more than just a kidnapping.'

'Just a kid-'

'O'Connell, shouldn't we know what we're getting ourselves into before we go charging off? I thought that's what you soldier types were supposed to do, know all your facts.'

'Dammit, Jonathan!' He rounded on him, blue eyes blazing, but then took a number of deep calming breaths. 'You realise that every moment we waste, Evelyn could be that much closer to...' He couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't put into words the terrible fear that had been festering during these dismal hours.

'Just tell me where she is. Please.'

'On a barge. Down river.' Ardeth's voice was gentle, as though in response to the painful desperation in Rick's eyes. 'The Englishman will have no reason to harm her, I think.'

'How do you know that?'

The Medjai seated himself deliberately in a chair. He sat straight-backed, with head held high - the proud son of an ancient people. He was a warrior and a guardian of long-held secrets, but at heart Ardeth was a storyteller. His skill with the sword was second only to his skill in conjuring the heroes and legends of his heritage with words. The stories held knowledge and power and such knowledge had kept him alive. Before anything else, he would teach his new friends this lesson.

'Do you know the legend of the Sphinx?'

Rick threw himself onto the sofa, glaring balefully at the desert warrior. 'Something tells me I'm about to.'