II. Encounters down the Nile
Eleanor's first impressions couldn't have been more right; to say that Giza Port's market was lively definitely was an understatement. She could barely walk without bumping shoulders with someone else, yet she found the noise and the crowd's bustle strangely pleasant. It made her feel alive.
Trying to take a close look at her surroundings while following her brother's back, she pushed through the crowd, glancing every now and again over her shoulder at the native man who was carrying her luggage. She wasn't used to others working for her. The man seemed to be fine, though, despite the intense heat. "We hired them all for a reason." Daniels had said when she'd asked if the man would mind carrying her bags. She supposed he had a point. The walk to the hotel didn't take that long. After fifteen minutes, their guide stopped in front of a huge wooden door that led inside their final location. Once her things were left in her room and the worker walked out, Eleanor made a quick change of clothes, opting for wearing pants and high boots instead of her usual skirts. Feeling much more comfortable and refreshed, she put the clothes back inside the suitcase and headed downstairs, surprised to find that none of the people she knew was there. After thinking it over, Eleanor decided to go to the hotel's bar. The Islam may forbid Muslims to drink alcohol, but Daniels and Henderson were not Muslims, and her brother was easy-going enough to allow their friends to drag him along, regardless of if he wanted a drink or not. Besides, she doubted the hotel's staff would deny tourists a drink.
Indeed, her assumptions were right. The three of them were settled around a small, rounded table, with a full glass for each. They cheered when they spotted her standing at the entrance. She mentally shrugged. Well, they weren't drunk… at least yet.
"Seriously, the first thing you do after setting foot into a whole new country is get for yourselves jag juice?" She asked, directing her gaze to Bernard as she came to stop in front of the group. Her brother smiled uneasily, aware of her disconformity.
"Damn straight we are, gal." Answered Henderson with a big smile.
"Did ya really expect us to let an opportunity like this get away?" Daniels asked rhetorically.
"Well, one would've thought that after years of limiting your drinking the three of you would have a little more of self-control." She teased, even though she wished that the three of them would actually cut their bad habits.
"Contrarily, anyone shoulda known better than thinkin' a group of yanks wouldn't drink themselves blind." Henderson answered blissfully while raising his glass, drinking it down to prove his point.
She rolled her eyes. Too much to hope for Prohibition actually taking effect…
"Nellie," Her brother spoke up, "Henderson an' I are gonna go to the market later, need to buy the horses an' couple' things more. Wanna come with us?"
She nodded. "Sure! Actually, I was hoping to do some sightseeing before the boat sailed."
A few glasses later, the three of them went back to the port. Since it was midday, the multitude of tourists had diminished considerably; instead, the port now was mostly occupied by masses of sellers and locals. It was then when Henderson took some workers and went to buy the horses, leaving the Burns siblings on their own.
"What are we going to buy first?" She asked, eyeing the stalls.
"Supplies, tents an' tools. Shovels, ropes, picks... that kind a' stuff for the diggers, an' even some medicines if possible." Bernard replied idly, adjusting his glasses. Eleanor frowned.
"And we'll find all of those here? Most of these look like souvenirs. And somehow I got the feeling no one here has ever heard of sulfa drugs or vitamin production." She commented skeptically, sending a brief glance towards a particular man as he spitted a phlegm on the ground. Her brother just shrugged.
"That's what I wonder too, but the guide said so. C'mon…" Rolling her eyes, she did as told.
As they approached one of the stalls with an orange awning, the rest of the workers hired followed them, waiting for instructions. The seller was a short, plump man, with a cream turban wrapped around his head. He smiled at them. "Welcome, welcome my friends!" He said loudly in English with a thick accent. "I have the best fabrics for you and your wife, my good sir. Come and see!" Eleanor nearly wrinkled her nose in disgust at the man's deductions. Sure, she loved her brother to no end, but the mere thought of a romantic relationship with him was appalling enough to give her nightmares.
"Apparently Bernie agrees with me…" She thought, amused upon seeing her brother hurrying to correct the man. Minutes later, she was sure they'd bought enough clothing to set up tents for a whole legion. Four of the workers that were behind them took the fabrics with ease and walked away. "Where are they taking them?" She asked curiously.
"The boat, where else?" He answered, looking down at her. "Doc's already checkin' everything for us."
"Smart ass." She muttered, making him grin. "You know, you boys could've bought all of these in the States, so why wait until we arrived here?"
"Dave investigated, an' our boy ascertained we could save us a hell lot a' bucks shoppin' here." She nodded. It made sense...
They kept buying for the next twenty minutes until Eleanor decided that she was bored of looking at work tools, which most of them she had no clue of how to use. She walked past the workers and other customers, going down the line of stalls and scanning the products. There were ceramic figures and monuments; oils, smelling salts and other body lotions; clothes and jewelry... yet she didn't see anything remotely close to medical supplies. She paused, looking at a few dresses laid on a table. One was especially pretty; the cloth looked like silk and the color was a shade of light pink, with silver embroideries creating patterns of Egyptian style; at least that's how she was sure most American fashion magazines would have referred to the patterns. The sleeves were long, and the skirt's length was below the knees. The other dresses shared a similar appearance, combining different colors; blue, grey, black, red, white, turquoise, gold… "Even if the sleeves aren't cut, flappers would kill for one of these." Eleanor thought. The woman at the stall tried to talk her into buying one, but she declined the offer with a small voice, trying to be polite. She wouldn't need it, neither would she have the occasion to wear such a dress at Hamunaptra, surrounded by sand and horses. She came to the next set of items, glancing curiously over the various pieces of jewelry. A particular one caught her eye. The fine steel had been shaped as a cross with an oval handle.
"Cheap jewels for beautiful women, my friend. You buy!" The man said as he observed her. He wasn't as fluent in English as most of the other sellers that had talked to her. Eleanor twisted a lock of hair which had fallen from the bun placed at the nape of her neck. Finally, she gazed back to the expectant man.
"How much for this?" She asked pointing at the peculiar cross.
After about ten minutes of haggling with the man, Eleanor finally got her desired necklace at a reasonable price. Timid and idiot were not synonyms in her book. She was walking back to where she had left Bernie, the necklace partially hidden underneath her blouse, when she saw how a gust of wind blew a young woman's hat off her head. The hat fell beside her and she kneeled to take it from the dirty floor, before it was sent flying further away. Standing up, she gazed at the woman. In a word, Eleanor would describe her as a bearcat, walking with a firm step towards her and a confidence Eleanor could only wish to possess. A few locks of auburn hair which had escaped her neat, low bun defined her slightly rounded face, and her creamy skin shinned faintly due to the sweat caused by the heat. Her lips were full and her nose small. The woman was dressed quite modestly with a long, beige skirt covering her legs, a white blouse and a beige vest. Definitely, the woman was very pretty. She smiled and offered her the hat. "Here you go, miss." She said softly.
The woman scrutinized her with cold, brown eyes from head to toe before taking gracefully the hat. She gave a small nod in acknowledgement. "Thank you." Her voice carried a British accent and was deeper than Eleanor first thought, but even so she wouldn't say it was unpleasant… Unlike her attitude. With that, the Brit turned around and walked back to the man and woman that were waiting next to the woman's luggage, watching the scene. "Her highness is in a bad mood today..." Eleanor thought as she resumed her own way too. A couple of minutes later, someone touched her shoulder, making her jump.
"Don't you dare disappearin' like that again, Nellie! One of the diggers said you just walked away." Bernie said, frowning.
She shrugged, feeling guilty. "I got bored of seeing that man trying to fool you into buying that tool kit, so I went to see what else is on sale. Sorry, though, didn't mean to make you worry."
Her brother's frown deepened. "Fool me? He wasn't! That stuff could be useful."
She was about to answer when she closed her mouth. Eleanor closed her eyes and sighed dramatically. "Bernie, tell me you didn't buy it…"
She opened her eyes. He had a sheepish look on his face as he unfolded the leather, revealing several small brushes and other tools. She moved her head to the side and raised an eyebrow, giving him the look. "What?" He asked defensively, "You don't know if I'll actually have to use these. It's an investment…" She sighed again, trying hard not to roll her eyes. "An investment, yeah... like this expedition..." She couldn't help but think sarcastically.
"Well, I guess Dr. Chamberlain will be able to explain how to use these if necessary." Eleanor said wryly, picking up a tiny hammer. She raised her eyebrows, looking at it. Very tiny indeed...
Bernard took it from her grasp and put it back in its place, folding the leather once more. "Let's go, the boat will sail soon."
"For God's sake, Mr. Carnahan! You won't take even your little sister's suitcase?" Adele asked as the three of them started to walk down the street towards the port.
"Why do you all assume I should do that!" He asked defensively.
"Because it's the polite thing to do?" Answered Evelyn. Adele almost wanted to chuckle at the sight of Evelyn's suitcase, which was quite bigger than her own. And she had been worried of carrying too many things…
"I'll tell you, old mum, I never claimed to be a gentleman. Isn't that right, Addie?" Said Jonathan looking pointedly at his sister's employee, who was walking by his right side.
The aforesaid woman sighed. "Even so, Mr. Carnahan, I think you could have made an exception with Evelyn. She is your sister, after all."
He scoffed. "That only makes her more indulgent of my mistakes as well as gullible; she actually believed the whole excavation thing!"
"I did too, you know. I wonder why Evelyn, or myself for the matter, still trust you." She said.
"Hey, you call Evy by her first name! Why don't you do the same with me?" Jonathan asked childishly, changing the subject.
Adele ignored him. They were reaching port; she could hear the Nile flowing and the market's bustle, even though the place wasn't as packed as during peak hour -thankfully-. The three started to walk by the line of boats and ships, occasionally stepping out of the way of a cart or a horse.
"So Evy," Adele said, leaning slightly over Mr. Carnahan to look at her friend, "What's our guide's name? You mentioned he's American."
Jonathan groaned, catching Adele's drift. "Yes, he is." Answered Evelyn, ignoring her brother too. "He said his name is Richard O'Connell, told us he served in the French Foreign Legion. But if I were you, I wouldn't get my hopes up; he's arrogant and rude, much like Jonathan."
Ignoring a dramatic "Hey!" from the British man, Adele carried on with the conversation. "What does he look like?"
Evelyn avoided the other woman's gaze and looked ahead. "He's quite tall. Tan skin, blue eyes…" She said a little more softly. The Egyptologist caught sight of her employee's face. Adele was raising an eyebrow and one of the corners of her lips twitched a little, insinuating a grin. Evelyn cleared her throat before continuing. "His hair is light brown but a wild mess; he desperately could use a hair cut. You should've seen him… I sincerely hope he has primped himself, if only a little." She added, quite lamely in Adele's opinion.
However, a gust of wind blew her hat off, cutting any sassy remark she was about to make. They stopped and looked behind them. A young woman around Adele's age was kneeling on the floor, picking up the hat. The woman was wearing black pants and black high boots; her white, long-sleeved blouse was tucked inside the pants and loose in a casual way. Her black hair was styled in a low bun at her nape, much like herself although not as neatly, since several locks fell loose around her neck and face, giving her a nice look. Despite her first appearance, her clothes were over-used, Adele could tell. "Middle-low class, although I thought flappers favoured short hair..." She thought upon seeing the little cleavage that the blouse showed while she had been kneeled and how her pants gave hints of the woman's figure. Adele had been educated in the bosom of a high class, Christian family in London; she had always been told what appropriate attire was. Her Mother, rest in peace, always had told her that she needed to become a useful woman in both the professional world and workplace, and the family setting. That's why she was sure her Mother would have approved of her studying at Oxford; her daughter would have not only the chance of studying to find a work, but also of finding a suitable husband. If only she knew that her youngest daughter wasn't so concerned about marriage as she was about history…
After leaving on the ground her luggage, Adele strode up until she came to a halt in front of the other woman. Her visage was heart-shaped, with a skin slightly tanner than hers and a straight nose that didn't make her precisely ugly, just like the rest of her sharp features. Her blue eyes were her most outstanding trait, in her opinion. Her lips were a bit small though, but over all, she was pretty, Adele had to give her that. The woman extended her right hand towards her. "Here you go, miss." She said softly, smiling. Her accent was American.
Not wanting to be totally impolite, Adele nodded. "Thank you." She answered, taking the hat. Without any other words, she turned around and went back to the Carnahan siblings, who were watching them patiently. She put her hat on and took her belongings, the three resuming their way.
"She seemed nice." Jonathan commented casually.
"Anything with breasts seems nice to you, Jonathan…" Said Evy. Adele chuckled, agreeing.
"Not everything, my dear sister! Remember that belly dancer?" He shivered dramatically, "Yeah, not in a million years."
"And for a million pounds?" Asked Adele cheekily.
Mr. Carnahan frowned while raising eyebrow, as if he was actually considering the hypothetical situation. "Well…"
His sister rolled her eyes. "Jonathan!"
"No, not even then!" He said quickly. Adele laughed a little.
"There are more important things in the world than liquor, women and wealth, Mr. Carnahan."
"Oh, definitely, but those are the things I'm pledged to. What can I say, love? I'm a free spirit!" He said.
After a couple of minutes, Evelyn re-initiated the conversation. "Do you really think he's going to show up?" She asked Jonathan.
"Yes, undoubtedly. He may be a cowboy but I know he will, the man gave us his word." Jonathan answered unconcerned.
"Well, as I said before, personally I think he's not only rude and arrogant, but also filthy, a complete scoundrel; I don't like him one bit."
"Anyone I know?" A deep, male voice asked at their backs. The three turned around and Adele could only assume that the handsome man before them was Mr. O'Connell. Evelyn's physical description fit him quite accurately, but he didn't appear as much of a savage as her friend claimed, quite the contrary. The American man was dressed with a beige jacket and pants, white shirt and brown boots, with a heavy bag hanging from his left shoulder. His hair was perfectly cut and combed too, and his smell wasn't so terrible either… After raising his eyebrows questioningly at Evelyn, he fixed his eyes on Adele. "Have we met before?" He asked pointing at her with his index left finger.
Adele set down one of her suitcases before answering. "No, we haven't. My name is Adele Jennings, I'm Miss Carnahan's assistant." She said, holding out her right hand. He shook it.
"Richard O'Connell, pleasure." He said rather politely.
Jonathan gave a nervous chuckle. "Smashing day for start an adventure, eh O'Connell?" He asked, patting him on the chest. Evy was still speechless, Adele noticed while trying not to smile.
Mr. O'Connell released the young woman's hand and took something out of the inside-pocket of his jacket. "Yeah, smashing." He quickly showed his wallet, then placed it back in its spot.
"Oh, no, no! I'd never steal from a partner… partner." He added smiling rather anxiously. Adele couldn't help but scoff. Both men chuckled.
"That reminds me, no hard feelings for the…" O'Connell said, punching the air, and Adele's eyebrow rose. She looked at Jonathan and his left eye. "Nothing of importance, uh?"
"Oh, no, happens all the time." Jonathan said, waving his hand in dismiss.
"Yes, that's true," Said Adele. "Actually, Mr. Carnahan's capacity to survival never ceases to amaze me, Mr. O'Connell."
The American smirked. "Mr. O'Connell," Evelyn spoke up, gaining his attention back, "Can you look me in the eye and guarantee me that this isn't all some kind of a flimflam? Because if it is, I am warning you I'll-"
"You're warning me?" He interrupted, incredulous of the woman's boldness. "Lady, let me put it this way; my whole damn garrison believed in this so much that without orders they marched halfway across Libya and into Egypt to find that city. And when we got there, all we found was sand and blood."
Adele blinked, mulling over their guide's honest words, a little surprised of his harness and confidence. Sure it couldn't be that bad… "Let me get your bags." He added, managing to take both hers and Evelyn's luggage rather effortlessly and walking inside the boat.
"Yes, yes, you're right. How did she say, Addie?" Said Jonathan after a moment of silence.
"Arrogant, filthy, rude, and a complete scoundrel she said." Adele played along right away, smirking.
"Definitely, nothing to like there at all." He said sarcastically.
"Not even when Mr. O'Connell is all primped." She added.
"Oh, for Heaven's sake, you two!" Evelyn muttered, a little irritated at being the target of their infantile teasing.
The both of them crossed looks, grinning, Evelyn joining them little afterwards. Suddenly, another voice talked to them. "Bright good morning to you all!" A plump, short, bald man wearing a fez and carrying bags at his back came up to them, strongly smelling of alcohol. Evelyn didn't bother to hide her dislike.
"Oh, no, what are you doing here?" She asked. The man started to walk up the ramp leading inside the boat.
"I'm here to protect my investment, thank you very much." He said, disappearing into the boat. Adele turned back to Evelyn.
"Who's that?"
Evelyn sighed. "The prision warden, his name's Hassan, if I remember correctly..." Adele was about to make another question when she was interrupted.
"Well, ladies, pardon me but I'll go find the bar now that I have an excuse." Said Jonathan, patting each woman's shoulder.
"What excuse?" Asked Evy.
"If I'm drunk, I will be able to get along with our smelly companion." He answered, walking inside of the boat.
"So why exactly is the warden here? What did he mean by investment?" Adele asked. She didn't like one bit the sigh Evelyn let out before answering her.
"You recall I told you Mr. O'Connell was in prision?" Evy asked, making her friend nod. "Well, the day I went with Jonathan to see him, Mr. O'Connell was about to be hanged-"
"What?" Adele asked incredously, "He was sentenced to death just for a bar fight?"
The archaeologist shook her head furiously. "Of course not! It was because... Well, actually I'm not sure why, but the only way I could stop his sentence was promising the warden a per centage of the treasure."
"How much?" She asked cautiously.
"Twenty-five..." Adele groaned in complain. "It was the only way, otherwise our guide would have died!" Evelyn defended herself.
"I know, I know... It just bothers me that people like that manage to get his hands in such treasures. They can't see that they're far more valuable for their antiquity than their shine or weight." She said. As a proper archaeologist herself and a history lover, Adele was a woman opposed to treasure hunters, and any kind of similar people.
Evelyn sighed again, sharing her opinion. "We better get going, come." She added, more perkily and providing her employee with a bright smile. She was about to follow her brother's footsteps, when she noticed Adele hesitating. She frowned. "Is there something wrong, Adele?"
Said woman was glaring intently at the water below. She gulped. "Nothing." She said, finally tearing her gaze apart. Evelyn was still giving her a concerned look. Adele was halfway through the gangway when she noticed no one was following her. "Are you coming?" She asked her employer, looking back at her with her hands resting on her hip. Casting her one last gaze, Evelyn followed her, both of them disappearing inside the boat.
Eleanor was standing with her hands placed on her hip, gazing thoughtfully at her suitcase. The boat had just set sail, and Bernie had gone with Dave in search of Mr. Gabor to pay him half of his sume; meanwhile, she was in her cabin, debating whether she should unpack or not. Personally, she didn't see the pain that later would suppose packing everything back worthy. After all, it was just a three-days trip. Finally leaving her stuff untouched, she walked out of the cabin. At the end of the corridor, she spotted Daniels storming down the hall in her direction. He looked up to her.
"What's that?" He asked once he was in front of her, glancing at the fine chain around her neck.
"This?" She took the chain, revealing the cross hanging from it. "Bought it at port, it's just a trinket." They headed towards the deck.
"Don't look like one." He replied as they got outside the corridors and onto the open air. "Was expensive?"
"Not really." Eleanor placed the cross back beneath her blouse. The deck was pretty chill, occupied only by a few passengers who were relaxing. She turned back to Daniels and eventually asked. "Did you find Mr. Gabor?"
Daniels snorted at her choice of words. "Yeah, we did, an' that lil' weasel better not mess with us." He growled, making her frown.
"What happened?" She asked softly, not wanting to anger him further. She knew David was a short-tempered, hard boiled man. He took a deep breath, not really wanting to be so harsh with her.
"That bastard tried get twice the bucks we agreed, said he had a family to fed." He snorted again. "Bullshit," Eleanor heard him mutter. "He tried to be smart with us, an' I taught 'im a lesson. Don't worry, no one was beaten." He added upon seeing her concerned look.
She sighed. "Anyway, where were you going?"
"The bar." He looked at Eleanor, watching the exasperating look that his friend was giving him. "Don't gimme that shit, Nellie, I'm not in the mood. An' fer your record, I just wanted to grab a bite, I'll save the drinkin' fer later."
"Hey, I didn't say anything!"
"But ya thought it." Daniels remarked, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She chuckled.
"You can't blame me for worrying. I'll go with you, I think I will take a drink myself." So both friends wandered around the boat until they stumbled upon their desired location.
Now Eleanor understood why the deck was so tranquil; most passengers, especially men, were down there. She could hardly breathe. The room wasn't particularly spacious, and it didn't help that smoking was allowed. Eleanor gulped, trying to calm her nerves. She felt trapped, like a big animal in a minuscule cage. At least back in the streets she was out in the open air, no matter how packed the city was. Sensing her unease, Daniels placed a hand on the small of her back and proceeded to guide her through the room, making way for both of them impatiently. Once they reached the counter, Daniels spotted Henderson waving at them.
"Shit, Nellie, what's wrong with ya, girl?" The blonde man asked, noticing how pale she was at the moment.
"Too many folks and a closed space, that's what." Answered Daniels for her. "Get 'er something to drink, will ya? I'm gonna see if there's any edible stuff down here."
Henderson placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sure." With a nod, Daniels walked away. "What do ya want?"
"Southside." She said after a moment. Henderson raised a hand to call for the bartender, his other still grasped gently around her shoulder.
"It's just a crowded room, Eleanor, calm down…" She told herself.
"Here ya go." Her friend placed a cold glass on her hand, and she quickly swallowed half of its content. Instantly, her throat burned at the taste of the sweet yet strong liquid, and instinctively she began to cough, not being used to drinking, although not being her first time. Henderson briskly took the glass from her, releasing her shoulder to pat her back. "Whoa, take it easy."
"I'm fine." She hissed once she had eased her breathes. He offered her again the glass. Without hesitation, she made the drink disappear, this time with shorter sips. She placed the empty glass on the counter, already feeling a little more at ease.
"Better?" Henderson asked, and she nodded. "The hell happened to ya? It's been a long time since I last saw ya gettin' claustrophobic."
"Well, it's been a long time since I was inside a room with more occupants than space." She replied. Hearing no sassy comments from her friend's mouth, Eleanor looked at him, finding out that he hadn't listened to her answer. Instead, he was looking thoughtfully at something behind her spot on the stool bar. Curious, she turned around too.
"It cannot be." She thought, amused. There in the doorway of the bar was the British woman whose hat she'd picked at port, and it seemed as if she was looking for someone. She had taken off that bloody hat and her vest, but otherwise, she looked exactly the same. Eleanor looked back at Henderson, who still had his gaze focused on the woman. "Forget it." She said to him.
Henderson blinked before finally meeting her gaze, frowning. "What?"
Eleanor suppressed a chuckle. "I said, forget it." His frowned deepened, but she elaborated before he could talk. "Her looks don't make it up for her attitude."
"Ya know the broad?"
"Not really," she shrugged. "I ran into her back in the docks, and she practically looked at me as if I was dirt in the bottom of her fine shoes. Probably a high-class. To be honest, I doubt you have a chance with her."
After a few minutes, he smirked smugly. "Thought ya had a little more faith in my charm an' good looks." That made her chuckle. "Anyway, that broad's not my type." He added a little more softly. After sending him a smile, she got up from the stool.
"I need to get outta here, besides, there's someone I want to speak with." Eleanor said.
"See ya." He said, dedicating her a wink which was answered with a roll of her eyes. After watching his friend disappear, the blonde cowboy looked up again towards the doorway, but the other woman was nowhere to be found. Containing a sigh, he spotted a pretty woman sitting alone and, after he drank the rest of his own glass down and put on his most charming smile, he walked up to her. The brunette looked up and returned the smile. "Howard Henderson, lemme buy ya a drink."
"Oh, Evelyn!" Adele exclaimed, descrying her friend clutching a book among the rest of tourists on deck, "Do you know where's Mr. O'Connell? I'd like to speak with him." She asked once she came close to her.
"I have no idea, Adele, sorry." Said the other British woman, "Have you searched in the bar? It seems like the only place men frequent lately."
After thanking her, Adele took the advice and headed for the bar. If their guide wasn't there, maybe she would be able to find Jonathan and ask him about the American's current whereabouts. She descended the stairs and paused at the doorway, scanning the crowd. The air was heavy with smoke and sweat, but she didn't really care about it. A little disappointed for not being able to find Mr. O'Connell and, surprisingly, Mr. Carnahan either in there, she turned around and walked back onto the deck. She wandered around the boat, thinking. She had already knocked on his cabin's door, but no one had answered, so where was he? The boat wasn't that big, and full grown men just didn't vanish into thin air. A sort of bellow made her jump out of her skin. She looked at her left and saw a few camels, one of them extending his neck towards her. She quickly stepped back.
"They won't hurt you." A rich voice said at her back, sounding amused. She recognized the American accent.
"Oh, there you are, Mr. O'Connell." She said, taking some steps towards him. "I have been looking for you."
He raised an eyebrow. "Have you?" Adele couldn't help but think his tone was unimpressed.
She smiled. "Yes, I have. I wanted to talk with you, about what you said earlier."
"You'll need to be more specific, lady."
She almost sighed. "About what you said of Hamunaptra."
He faked a surprised face before saying, "What about it?"
Adele took a deep breath. She was losing both confidence and patience with this man; now she was starting to see some of Evy's point. "Is it true what you said about your garrison? Miss Carnahan has also told me that you claim to found the puzzle-box at the city."
The American sighed, resembling the epitome of frustration. "Yes, it's true; there was only sand, later covered with all of my men blood. Yes, I found that stupid box among the ruins. And yes, I survived."
She swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. O'Con-"
"Call me Rick." He interrupted.
"Very well, Rick," Adele conceded. "I just want to be sure of what are we doing." He blinked.
"Trust me, the city is real. Although I can't promise that you and your employer will find whatever you're looking for there." He said more calmly after a couple of seconds.
She sighed. "That's what I'm afraid of..." She looked up to him. "If you don't mind my asking, how long has it been since you were there?"
"Three years." She nodded, still pretty surprised of his conviction and his direct answers.
"How big is the possibility of..." She hesitated, "Of not coming back?"
Then his gaze changed to one contemplative. "You're one of the few people who has ever asked that." He paused. "To be honest, I don't know for sure. But you better get yourself prepared for the worst, lady. There's a reason for all the legends."
She squinted her eyes, her heart pounding a little faster than usual. "And which is that reason?"
He looked right into her eyes and said without any trace of doubt. "Evil."
By the time Eleanor found her person of interest the sun was already setting in the horizon. She stopped her pace and gazed out in the distance. The temperatures had decreased considerably; the sun didn't burn her skin anymore, instead it warmed her pleasantly. Her blue eyes scrutinized the sunset avidly, entranced. The sand resembled gold, provoking her a deja-vu of the first time she saw Egypt, a day ago; the soft movement of the water reflected the sunrays. It was beautiful. After what felt like an eternity, she looked away and continued her search. She found him with his back pressed against a wall, dressed with the same clothes she had seen him in during their arrival and smoking something that didn't smell at all like cigarettes or tobacco. Gulping, she walked closer.
"Excuse me, Mr. Gabor?" She hated how small her voice sounded. He looked up to her, his eyes bloodshot, and his thin lips twisted in a little grin.
"Please, call me Beni." His high-pitched voice and his strong accent were too shameless in her opinion. "Who are you?"
"I'm Mr. Burns' sister, one of your employers." She said. His demeanour immediatly changed from flirty to guarded.
"What you want?"
"You told my brother and everyone else that you served as a legionnarie, that's how you know the way to Hamunaptra... I was wondering..." She stopped briefly, trying to overcome her shyness. "How is it possible?"
Mr. Gabor chuckled and, after taking a last drag of his... whatever he was smoking, he threw the butt to the water and turned to her. "After reaching Hamunaptra we fought against some desert horsemen, the Tuaregs. Our commander left the garrison to their own to be massacred, but fortunately I was the only survival. And, after that horrible experience, now I'm forced to take tourists here and there to get money for my children." He said, making her frown, remembering what Daniels had told her.
"You have a family?"
"Five, none of them old enough to work. If you could convince your brother, Miss Burns," He said, taking a couple of steps towards her, "To pay me a little more, for my poor children..."
"That doesn't depend on me..." She said, taking a step back. "Can I have your word that this is no trick, Mr. Gabor?" She asked, changing the subject. "That you will lead us to Hamunaptra and take all of us back?"
He smiled, reminding her of a mouse. "Of course, my dear, I am man of word."
"Alright." And she didn't believe a single word. She cleared her throat. "Thank you for your time." And she walked away quickly, finally understanding everyone's skepticism towards the Bulgarian. Indeed, Beni Gabor wasn't someone to be trusted. Suddenly craving for a drink, she directed her walk, once more, to the bar. After three glasses she started to feel light-headed, so she stopped and went back outside. Eleanor admitted she wasn't one who could hold her liquor. She was heading back to her cabin when she saw one of the workers of the boat grasping harshly a little boy's arm; the youngster was no older than ten years or so. The man was scolding him furiosly in Arabic and shaking him. She frowned and walked up to them, determined thanks to the alcohol flooding through her veins. "Everything alright, sir? What has he done?" She asked, her voice not as clear as if she had been completely sober.
"That's none of your concern, miss." Her frowned deepened.
"He's just a kid, I won't let you treat him like that for no reason." She said, trying to measure her words.
The man sighed impatiently, knowing that, woman or not, he couldn't mistreat a passenger. "This kid is a stowaway!" He said, giving the kid another shake. "He will get off boat next stop!" The kid suddenly said something loudly, looking between the worker and the strange, foreign lady.
Eleanor pursed her lips, thinking. "What if I pay his ticket?"
The worker blinked incredously. "What?"
"I pay his ticket and you let him stay. How does that sound?" She looked down at the kid, who was looking intently at her. She gazed back at the man. "Tell him!" She urged. The worker obeyed, and after a couple of minutes he talked back to her.
"He thanks you, but there will be no room for him; all are occupied." He said firmly. She nodded, and the man finally released the boy, leaving the two of them alone.
Now she saw the idiocy of her actions. "The guys are gonna kill me..." She thought, returning the young boy's gaze. She opened her mouth but closed it again, kneeling in front of him. He probably didn't understand anything she said. "Eleanor..." She said slowly, pointing at herself. After a couple of repetitions, he got the pronunciation right.
"Ahmed." He said, mimicking her. She smiled and said his name without much issue.
"Well," She stood up, "I gotta go, so..." She said, already moving towards the cabin. "Bye." She finished lamely. The kid watched her for a moment and then turned around, disappearing around a corner. Well, less trouble... looking around, Eleanor noticed it was already nighttime. Once she got inside her cabin, she immediately let herself fall against the mattress, too tired to change clothes. Right after her head collided with the pillow, sleep came to her.
A.N/: Well, finally an update! I admit there's not much action going on... yet. I actually wanted to include the whole Med-Jai attack too, but I had to cut it here; otherwise, this chapter would have been endless.
Thank you everyone who has read, followed, faved and reviewed; you all are wonderful :) Hope you enjoy this one too!
PS. I have no idea if someone is acquaintanced with the 1920s slang or not, so I'll leave a few notes, just in case.
~Se acerca el invierno
Jag juice = Hard liquor
Flapper = Woman who wore short skirts, bobbed hair, makeup and who flaunted her disdain for what was then considered acceptable behavior
Bearcat = A lively, spirited woman, possibly with a fiery streak
Hard boiled = A strong, tough guy
Southside = Gin cocktail with a little sugar, mint and lemon