The loud cry of the pistol was deafening, and after it, followed an eerie silence. It was a moment in which nothing happened, not even thought. Everything happened so fast. It took a minute for Indiya to realize she was lying on the floor. Her head had clashed hard with the cement below her, and she felt the side effects. She moved her hands up in down her stomach, waiting to feel the gush of blood. But it wasn't there. The bullet must have missed her.
She felt a hand clasp the back of her head, and lift it up. Robert Langdon was kneeling beside her, stilling holding onto her arm. He must have been the one to pull her down. He helped her sit up.
"I didn't mean to pull you down so hard," he said, there was a waiting in his stare.
"I'm grateful that you did," Indiya smiled at him. I'd rather have a banged up head than a whole through my gut.
He pulled her to her feet, and she immediately came face to face with Lieutenant Ashraf. "My apologies Miss," he said, his expression looking sincere for the first time. He turned to the guard who had shot the gun. "Take that away from him!"
"I'm sorry," the guard said, as the gun was ripped out of his hands. Two guards walked him away.
Robert still held onto Indiya's arm. Even though she said she was okay, he wasn't quite sure. Her head fell so hard against the floor he heard an echo. He was sure she'd lost a few brain cells thanks to him.
"It didn't hit anybody else, did it?" she said, turning to look behind her. She let out a gasp and ripped her arm out of Robert's grasp.
"No...I can't believe!" she spoke in fragments, as she ran up to the nearest wall. On it was a frame, which held what looked like an old piece of papyrus. What was on the papyrus, Langdon could not see. The bullet that had almost hit Indiya had hit the frame in its dead center. The glass covering the papyrus was severely cracked.
"This is from the Amrana revolution!" Indiya ran her fingers over the cracks. All signs of a concussion seemed to be null and void. "It was created under the rule of Amenhotep IV! It depicts the god Aton. Zahi had it hung here to remind us of the change that came under his rule."
"We'll pay-" Lieutenant Ashraf was cut off.
"Pay?" she turned to him, glaring at him with her grey eyes, which now had a new fire in them. Langdon was sure if there was something to throw, she'd throw it. "You can't pay to make a new one. It is priceless."
"If we get this glass off it," said Robert, stepping up to the frame. "We might be able to see how much damage it has."
"You'll have time for that later," said Lieutenant Ashraf. "There is an investigation going on now. Do you want to find these men or not?"
Indiya stared at him for a moment, and then turned her head, remaining silent. "Good," said Lieutenant Ashraf. "As for you." He turned to the reporter from Time Magazine.
"Don't shove any guns in my face, and I wont resist to answer your questions," he said.
"I guess I'll have to take your word for it," said Lieutenant Ashraf. "Come with me, then. And you two, as well."
The three of them were led to an empty office which didn't look like it had been occupied for quite some time. There was a lone desk in the center of the room, and the walls were bare except for a large map of Cairo to their left.
"I didn't mean to almost get you killed," said the reporter, turning to Indiya.
"No harm done," she said, extending a hand. "Indiya Becker."
"André Carriere," the reporter introduced himself.
"And this is-"
"I know who you are," said André, lifting his eyebrows curiously.
"I wont take that as a compliment," said Robert. He couldn't help his comment from coming off cold.
"Don't," said André crudely. "You're the whole reason I almost got killed."
"I'm sorry?" said Indiya, looking between the two of them.
"The whole reason I was sent to this convention was to watch him," André pointed at Robert.
"Is there nothing better going on in the world?" asked Robert, moving a step closer in a threatening manner.
"Don't think I wanted to be here," André replied. He turned to Indiya. "No offense. I've been trying to get out of this country for months."
"But you still came," said Robert, the volume in his voice climbing.
"I had no choice," said André. "It's my job!"
"Stop this!" Indiya stepped between the two of them, pushing them away from each other. "None of us needs this right now. I suggest you two put any hostilities towards each other away for the time being."
Robert looked away from him, turning his attention to the map on the wall. He couldn't believe the anger that erupted in him, but he was fed up.
"Now," Indiya began, turning to André. "What made them think you were a suspect." Robert turned to listen to what he'd have to say.
"It was all just a misunderstanding," said André. He propped himself on the desk behind him. "Right after they had announced people were missing, my editor called me saying that the major terrorist website's affiliated with Egypt were reporting an attack of some sort. They came up to me and told me I couldn't be on the phone. Well...I didn't really cooperate. So, they walked me out of the room and began questioning me. All I told them was what I knew, and somehow they took that as me being on the inside."
"You don't have some type of press pass you could have shown them?" asked Indiya. The tone of her question put Robert in deja vu. It was all happening again. He was somehow getting involved in something he had nothing to do with. There had to be some way he could get out of this.
"I would have, but they had me at gunpoint the second I told them," André replied. "It probably wouldn't matter. The law doesn't like journalist, we make things complicated."
I agree, Robert thought.
"So, I'm guessing these missing people are historians," said André. "And they are Americans, too?"
"Dr. Hawass and Dr. Weeks are both Egyptologist," said Indiya.
"And Kevin Dean is from Brown University," added Robert.
"Never heard of it?" said André, in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Never mind," Robert turned away again.
"Please!" Indiya gave both of them a glance, and then continued. "Dr. Hawass, Zahi, was not an American, he was Egyptian."
"Egyptian?" André said in disbelief. "That's surprising. It's rare that a terrorist group would kidnap someone of their own nationality. It could be a good sign though."
"How?" asked Indiya.
"They could just be making this out to be a threat," André replied. "At least on Dr. Hawass' part. They might not kill him because he is of the same nationality. As for the other two, they are Americans. This event has probably been publicized for some time. The group could have made the assumption that Americans would be attending, so they set up a plan."
"It's frightening to hear all of this come out of your mouth," Robert replied. Maybe the guards had a right to put the journalist at gunpoint.
"This is nothing," André replied. Robert got the sense that the reporter felt above himself being so knowledgeable in the field, despite his comment. "I have a colleague, Michael Ware, he told me about most of their tactics. I'm sure your American government would love to have him working for them. He knows more about these groups that anyone I know."
The door knob turned, and Lieutenant Ashraf emerged from the door frame. He had an odd expression on his face, the others must have sensed it too.
"Is something wrong?" asked Indiya.
"Yes, quite so," he said. "Another person has gone missing."
"Who?" Indiya immediately shot out.
Lieutenant Ashraf turned to face Langdon. "Johannis Venghram".
