Authors: Kathryn Le Veque
Allahaba and
Jabeel met them as they crossed the dirt road and Fox set Morgan to her feet.
They were discussing where to set up camp when robe-swathed figures approached
them from the south, from the direction of the mining camp. It took Fox all of
a minute to realize the men were toting guns. He turned his wife for the car.
“Get in the car,
love,” he told her.
Morgan saw the
guns, too. Without a word, she returned to the car but not to stay there; she
pulled her service weapon out of her backpack and returned to her husband.
Instead of standing next to him, however, she kept walking. Before Fox could
stop her, she fired her weapon into the air and watched the robed figures
flinch. They came to an instant halt.
“Tell them to
stay right there and state their business,” she called back to Fox. “If they
take another step, I’ll take out their legs.”
Fox was a little
taken-aback by her bold move but in hindsight, he shouldn’t have been surprised.
Allahaba called to the men, repeating Morgan’s command. The men chattered in
return, all four of them at the same time, their tone between fear and
suspicion.
“They say that
we must leave,” Allahaba said. “They say this is private property.”
Morgan watched
the men in the distance. “Tell them we’re not leaving,” she said. “Tell them
we’re scientists here to study the Roman ruins. We won’t bother their
operations.”
Allahaba
repeated her words. The man who appeared to be in charge took a few angry steps
forward, waving his gun around. Morgan assumed a defensive stance, her gun
aimed at the guy. As the guy moved closer and began screaming at them, Morgan
fired a round into the ground about a foot in front of the man. The concussion
was loud and the sand exploded. Startled, the man wisely came to a halt but
continued screaming.
“He says that we
cannot stay,” Allahaba repeated, then shouted something to the man, listening
to the response. He shook his head. “He says they will kill us if we stay.”
“Not if I kill
them first,” Morgan said, growing increasingly angry. “You tell them that we’re
staying. If they stay away from us, we’ll stay away from them. But if they try
to hurt us, I’ll kill every last one of them.”
Allahaba cast
Fox a concerned expression before relaying the message. The men in the
distance began shouting again but they were retracing their steps, turning
around to leave. Morgan watched them go, lowering her weapon when they were
well out of range. She turned to the men behind her.
“Do you think
they’ll be back?” she asked.
Allahaba
shrugged. “Probably not since they know we have a weapon,” he said. “But they
will be watching us. We must be vigilant.”
“Do they think
we want to rob the mine?” Morgan wondered.
“Absolutely,”
Allahaba nodded. “Remember that we ran into robbers yesterday. They are all
over these hills. One can never be too careful.”
Allahaba and
Jabeel turned back for the car but Fox remained, his gaze lingering on his
wife. She walked up to him as she switched the safety on the gun.
“I’m really glad
I brought this,” she said as she reached him. “It’s come in handy twice.”
Fox didn’t reply
so she looked up at him, noting his expression. He looked rather queer and her
eyebrows lifted. “What’s wrong? Why do you look like that?”
He grunted,
scratching his head as he thought on how to tactfully say what he was
thinking. Knowing her as he did, however, it was better to be forthright.
“You really
should have consulted with me before charging off with a gun like that,” he
told her. “You immediately put those people on their guard; of course they
thought we have come to rob them. We have a gun, don’t we? They were probably
just coming over to talk but you started firing off that gun and I don’t blame
them for being wary of us.”
She gazed up at
him, confusion across her lovely face. “But they had guns,” she reminded them.
“How did we know they weren’t coming over here to shoot us?”
“We didn’t,” he
said. “Which is why I told you to get in the car. I would have rather have
settled this peacefully if possible without bringing out all of the artillery.
You should have at least let me talk to them before you started shooting.”
Her confusion
was leaving her, being replaced by a sense of self-defense. “I saw it as a
preemptive measure,” she said. “Why are you so willing to trust men you don’t
even know, men who happen to be carrying guns no less?”
He didn’t want
to get in a big battle with her but it was clear they had two different
approaches to violence; with Morgan, it was what she was trained for. For Fox,
he’d never picked up a gun in his life. Any fighting he had done had been
purely with his fists. Finally, he just threw up his hands.
“Look,” he said
pointedly. “I don’t want to argue about this but next time, tell me what you’re
going to do before you do it. You’re not John Wayne fending off an Indian
attack. Cowboy tactics aren’t going to win you any friends out here. You may
get somebody killed.”
“Cowboy
tactics?” she repeated, insulted. “In no way are my tactics outrageous. I was
defending us.”
“You think so
but some might call your actions reckless,” he pointed out. “You went off
half-cocked before words were even exchanged.”
Morgan just
stared at him. He could feel the weight of those clear brown eyes. Rather than
spar with him, she simply turned and walked away. He watched her go back to
the car, climbing in to pack the gun away. As he watched, she lay down on the
bench seat of the car and disappeared from sight.
With a heavy
sigh, he went to find Allahaba to see about setting up their camp.
December 23,
1923
Christmas
is approaching but in Egypt, it is much different. Islam does not celebrate
Christmas as we know it. Louis is still determined to return home but I do not
want to leave this lovely land. Kadin has been vital in figuring out the clues
of the papyrus and I feel compelled to remain in Egypt. I must find what the
papyrus alludes to. I only wish Louis understood.
~ FS
CHAPTER TWENTY
TWO
Since they were
already on the radar of the mining company, Fox thought it would be best to put
their camp as out of the way as possible. There was a small canyon to the east
of the Roman ruins, so Jabeel pulled the car into it and the three men began
off loading the supplies and camping equipment.
Fox couldn’t
concentrate on what he was doing, knowing Morgan was still in the car licking
her wounds from the scolding he had given her. But in his opinion, he hadn’t
been out of line. She had gone off half-cocked at the first sign of trouble
and could have gotten herself killed. If he thought about it, that’s what he
was really upset about; the thought of Morgan with a bullet in her. In a
little over a month, the woman had become his entire world. He couldn’t imagine
living without her.
He knew she was
a cop, but somehow, out here in the wilds of Egypt, it was easier to pretend
she didn’t risk her life on a daily basis. He was secretly glad she wanted to
move to England, because it would take her out of her dangerous detective work
for awhile. Maybe in the time she was job-hunting, he could talk her into a
nice desk job somewhere. He’d joked about it before but he was growing
increasingly serious about it. He didn’t want his wife wearing a badge for a
living but maybe that was something he should have thought about before he so
swiftly married her. She told him he would have to get used to the idea. He
didn’t want to get used to it. He hated it.
So he took out
his frustrations as he pitched their tent, thinking of the erotic lovemaking
that had taken place inside of it the night before. It made him miss her
horribly, deeply sorry they had quarreled. Although he didn’t think he’d been
out of line, he was willing to apologize and forget the whole thing anyway. He
would cave in if only to make things well between them again. He wasn’t a
fighter by nature when it came to women. He was much more the push-over type.
As he made his way back over to the car, it occurred to him that this was the
first real argument they’d ever had. He hated the feeling.
He arrived at
the car, peering into the backseat to see if Morgan was asleep. Mildly
surprised to find her gone, he looked around for her. He’d had his back to the
car as he’d pitched their tent; moreover, the car was parked in the middle of
the small canyon while the men had been pitching their camp back in one of the
canyon’s many inlets. As Fox looked around, he realized she was nowhere within
his line of sight.
“Morgan?” he
called.
Only the desert
silence answered. Puzzled, he turned to Allahaba and Jabeel as they struggled
to erect the make-shift toilet several feet away.
“Al?” he called.
“Did you see Morgan walk away?”
Allahaba was
driving the PVC pipe into the ground. His head popped up and he came away from
the toilet project, hammer still in hand, as he approached Fox.
“She was in the
car the last time I saw her,” he said, looking around just as Fox was. “She is
not there?”
Fox shook his
head, growing increasingly concerned. “Maybe she went to find a secluded corner
to use as a loo,” he said as he started walking towards the north end of the
canyon. “Morgan?” he called loudly.
More silence
greeted him. In little time, Fox was running, shouting her name as he raced out
of the canyon and into an adjoining sandy plain. It was about a half mile in
circumference, with a sloping western side that led up to the main dirt road.
That road then led to the paved road, about five miles to the north. Fox
looked around in a panic, realizing after a moment that he was seeing
footprints in the dust. He peered closely at them; they looked like a tennis
shoe. Morgan had been wearing tennis shoes. The prints led up to the road.
“Damn,” he
hissed.
Racing back to
the gully where Allahaba and Jabeel were still looking for Morgan, he shouted
at Jabeel.
“Give me the
keys,” he snapped. “She’s run off to the road.”
Jabeel didn’t
ask questions; he tossed the man the car keys. Fox jumped in, revved the
engine, and tore off.
It didn’t take
him long to find her. She was about a mile and half up the road, marching
purposefully with her backpack slung over her shoulder. Fox pulled the car in
front of her, cutting her off, as he bailed from the driver’s side. When he
came around the side of the car, his obsidian eyes were blazing.
“Where in the
hell are you going?” he boomed.
Morgan was
sweaty and tired. She stepped back from him as he advanced on her. “Don’t you
dare yell at me,” she hissed. “I’m going to walk to that town near the Red Sea
and I’m going to check myself in to a hotel room, and I’m going to stay there
alone where I’m not being judged or yelled at or made to feel like I’m the
biggest idiot on the face of this earth.”
Fox watched her
eyes fill with tears, spilling over onto her dusty cheeks, and it undid him. He
almost felt like crying himself.
“Is that what
you think?” he asked hoarsely. “Do I really judge you and make you feel like
the biggest idiot in the world?”
She nodded,
breaking into soft sobs. She wiped at her cheeks, smearing mud across her
skin. “You hate my job; I get it,” she wept. “But you don’t have any right to
criticize me. You don’t have any right to call me names when I react the way
I’m trained to react.”
He sighed
heavily. “I never called you names.”
“You called me a
cowboy,” she countered. “You called me reckless and that’s just not fair. Just
because I don’t think like you do doesn’t mean I’m irresponsible. I’m actually
very good at what I do, believe it or not.”
“I believe it,
love,” he whispered.
“Then stop
acting like you’re ashamed of me!” she shouted.
He let her vent;
he deserved it. “I’m sorry, Morgan,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean
to make you feel foolish. But you scared met today; you rushed out to confront
those men without even knowing their business. You started firing off your gun
and issuing threats. I worked in Egypt for three years and never did anything
close to what you did, and I’ve run into some troublemakers in my time. It’s
just my policy to talk it out rather than fight it out.”
She continued to
wipe at the tears streaming down her cheeks. “So you’re telling me you’re
completely non-violent, even if you have to defend yourself?”
He hung his head
a moment, listening to her sniffle. He felt like the biggest jerk in the
world. But it was also clear that it was time for a confession of sorts. It
was important.
“No,” he said
quietly, lifting his head to look at her. “See this nose? It’s been broken a
few times. Want to know why? Because I was the ultra-heavyweight champion bare
knuckle boxer in the United Kingdom for four years in a row. I used the prize
money to pay off my school bills. When I got bored of boxing, I played rugby
which, as you know, is another gentle sport. So in answer to your question, I
am not completely non-violent. I can knock a man out in one punch and my hands
are lethal weapons.”