Chapter 19
What to do, what to do, what to do?
I had to get to Lex, I
had
to. But I couldn't just ignore the threat to Rhys.
When I changed lanes, the Vectra changed lanes.
The speed limit on the highway was one hundred kilometers per hour, or about sixty miles per hour. When I accelerated to 110, then 120, the Vectra sped up, too.
They were definitely following us.
"Crap," I said—my own version of
uffach cols
.
And I began to slow down—one hundred kilometers per hour.
"Um, Maggi?" That was Rhys. "Far be it from me to encourage another drive like the one we took in
France
, but… "
"Sooner or later, they either have to pass us, or we'll get pulled over," I said, digging into one of my cargo pockets for…yes. My disposable camera. "Get their license, and a picture or two. We want to be able to identify these bastards once we've rescued Lex."
Ninety kilometers per hour.
"Rescue Lex from whom?" asked Catrina.
Rhys twisted in his seat to watch for a better opportunity. "You think these people will
let
us rescue Lex?"
Eighty kilometers per hour. I'd pulled into the right lane—in
Egypt
, they drive on the same side of the road as in the States—so that I could exit if necessary.
Thinking.
"I'm not convinced these people care about Lex either way. And I don't plan on giving them the option of not
letting
us do anything. Here they come… "
I half expected to see someone with a gun out the window as the driver of the Vectra, realizing how suspicious they'd become, sped up to pass us. But this was
Egypt
. There were armored cars on the highway, here and there. They weren't that stupid.
They would just wait for us to get wherever we were going, and then make their move. Considering that I didn't know where we were going—except in the direction where my heart tugged me—or what we'd find there, I didn't want to wait. Rhys snapped several pictures as the coupe flew past. "They looked away, but I think I recognized one of the men who searched your suitcase, outside Tala's villa."
"Hani Rachid's men." I slapped my palm, hard, on the steering wheel. "Remember, back in the cisterns? He said something about you insinuating yourself with Jane. I was afraid he'd kill you right there, but once I realized he hadn't done that much damage… "
"You two have quite the knack for making enemies," mused Catrina. "Who is Jane?"
I would have ignored her, but Rhys said, "Hani Rachid's ex-wife."
"Do you mean the woman who is hiding out with her daughter in the British Embassy?"
I guess Hani really
was
working the publicity.
Now the Vectra was slowing down in an attempt to force us to pass them. I guess the camera had clued them into the fact that they'd been made.
I began slowing down, too. Ninety kilometers per hour.
Rhys asked, "Are you planning to play this game of chicken all the way to Cairo?"
It's not like I've been in enough car chases to have a usual response. But the one time I ran into this, I'd chosen to first outrun them and, when that didn't work, to bash their car into uselessness.
For some reason, I didn't want to do anything that drastic this time.
Eighty kilometers per hour. "What's the worst thing that happens, if we get pulled over for driving too slow?"
"The police find you with a concealed sword and a smuggled artifact?" said Rhys.
Crap
! Ninety kilometers per hour. "I'm an idiot," I whispered. Besides, if going slow kept us from getting to Lex on time… "Okay, so what have we got to work with? Anything?"
Catrina began to rummage good-naturedly under the seats. "You could threaten them with a squeegee."
"Real helpful." I passed the Vectra again and so got a decent look myself.
Definitely Hani's thugs. I recognized one of them from more than the morning outside Tala's villa.
And in this game of cat and mouse, they were now back in the role of cat.
"Puncture fixit," continued Catrina. "A paper bag of—
merde
! Do you people never clean out this car?"
I had a sudden hope. "What's puncture fixit?"
"To, how do you say… fix a puncture?" Her tone was condescending.
"A flat tire, right? It's Fix-A-Flat? Pass it here."
"Oh, dear," murmured Rhys, figuring it out as Catrina did. "Maggi… "
"Pull the top off this hosey thing." I began to slow again, unrolling my window. Eighty kilometers per hour. "And roll down your window. I'm not sure which side they'll choose."
Seventy kilometers per hour.
He did. "Are you sure this is wise?"
"Nope."
"Just checking."
Sixty kilometers per hour. We were crawling, by highway standards.
"I think they're…yes. Can either of you see any authorities? Any other cars that could get caught in the cross fire?"
"None," said Catrina. But since I didn't trust her to tell us if we had an entire police escort, I waited for Rhys to say, "It's clear. More or less."
Most of the other traffic was passing us in the far left lane, keeping well clear of the slow crazy people.
"Okay, they're passing on my side," I announced, dividing my attention between the rearview mirror and the road ahead. "Here, Rhys. Take the wheel."
"
What? "
But after a moment's shock, he snatched it.
Leaning out my driver's window at somewhere around forty miles per hour while keeping my foot on the gas wasn't the easiest thing I've ever done. The wind that whipped past my face was hot as a blow dryer on high. I had to squint against the dust. And yet…
Aiming that can of Fix-A-Flat at the startled faces of Hani's thugs, through their windshield, and pressing the button—
That felt
remarkably
good.
White foam splattered across their windshield. The Vectra swerved blindly, braking too fast for me to finish off the whole can. But I'd done a pretty fair job. As I ducked my head back in the window, dropped my butt back into the driver's seat, and took back the wheel, it was with a sense of true accomplishment.
A glance in the rearview mirror, as I accelerated, confirmed that they'd had to pull over and stop. In moments, they'd vanished from sight.
Neither Rhys nor Catrina said anything.
"And that stuff is made to be really sticky," I noted, in case they hadn't thought of that. "So that it coats the
puncture
from the inside of the tire. Between that and the sand… "
"Their windscreen will need more than a swipe with a towel," agreed Catrina, sounding impressed.
Rhys asked, low, "And what if they had wrecked the car, Maggi? What if they were hurt, or killed?"
"They weren't."
"They could have been." He was staring out the windshield, he was so angry.
"We were barely going forty miles an hour."
"That is no guarantee of their safety."
So I told him. "They're the men who beat you up."
Now
he looked at me, surprised.
"You were blindfolded the whole time, but I wasn't. The man riding shotgun is one of the men who kicked you so hard."
After a long moment, he said, "That is no justification."
"You may be a priest," I said, "but I'm—"
Catrina leaned up between us, staring at Rhys. "You are a
priest
? Involved with an Egyptian's ex-wife?"
"He's kind of a rogue priest," I suggested.
Rhys closed his eyes, but I would let him do the explaining. Me, I was marveling at my new, ruthless edge. If I was a priestess—as I'd been the previous night—then it was a completely different role than merely being a female priest. As far as I knew, Rhys was still celibate, even after being laicized. Me, I'd done a sex ritual. Rhys was about peace and fellowship.
But I was currently serving a goddess who had poisoned another god, specifically to take his powers.
Just how far would I go, to ensure the safety of the men in my life?
Still following the inexorable pull in my gut, I suspected I might just find out.
The sun was going down several hours later as I turned off the main highway onto the road to
Sakkara
. We'd passed
Cairo
and were in sight of
Giza
.
When the tug below my heart pulled me west, I turned onto a bumpy track that ran past a small village, glad for my sunglasses against a truly orange sunset.
Even Rhys and Catrina fell silent.
A small mob of peasants—
fellahin
, I think they're called—ran toward the car, waving and shouting. Exchanging concerned glances with Rhys, I slowed and rolled my window partly down.
They were all men, I noticed—men, a couple of goats, and a donkey. The women of the village stood in the background, properly swathed, while the men surrounded us, shaking their heads and insisting…
something
. I was more impatient than frightened—they were all smiling sunny, gap-toothed smiles and, to be honest, I thought we could take them.
But I resented the delay. Lex felt so close…
"Cannot go past," a child stated loudly, weaving through the others to stand near my window. He held out his hand for
baksheesh
, payment for his translation I guess. "The road, it is closed."
Like this even
was
a road.
The pull was definitely coming from beyond here. "Thanks anyway," I said, easing very, very gently onto the accelerator.
The
fellahin
backed quickly away, apparently accustomed to crazy tourists—but they also shouted louder and waved with more determination. "
La'! La'!
"
No, no.