Out of Sight (17 page)

Jafar, a small, middle-aged man with a grizzly gray beard and large, meaty hands, informed Kane, in excruciatingly polite tones, that they were way off course. He offered to have one of his many strong sons go with them in the morning and get them back on the correct road for their destination.

A woman rose from a pile of blankets in the corner and moved to light a fire. AJ straightened up and smiled at her.

Kane presented her with the small pouch he'd brought in with him. It contained a brick of sugar and a pouch of tobacco as gifts to their host, who would prize both, as they were so hard to come by. Both the men and women of the nomad tribes chewed tobacco, and the woman accepted the gifts with obvious delight.

Then she turned with a swirl of her black robes to squat and stir the fire. The flames danced, flickering golden on the roof of the tent. Jafar's wife then served them curdled milk in small, filthy mugs. Saharan nomads used precious water only to drink, not to wash their utensils, and a filter of sand covered the curds. Even in the dim lighting Kane could see the dirt and small insects swimming in the gray mess.

Their host slurped his down, and Kane and AJ drank, too. Kane hoped AJ attempted to do what he was doing, filter the liquid through clenched teeth. Since there was no way to politely spit out what he'd filtered, he swallowed, anyway. He bit back a grin when he heard AJ noisily swallow beside him. This was foul stuff. Good girl, she'd managed to do so without gagging. His estimation of her went up several more notches.

The woman, never introduced, and covered from toes to eyes in her black garb and veil, filled a miniature enameled teapot with green tea leaves. She broke a large lump off the rock-hard loaf of sugar Kane had given her, with a precise knock of a small tea-glass bottom. She then lined three glasses up on the rug in front other. Silence hung in the tent while the woman went through the hospitable ceremony. Outside, the wind and sand continued to batter at the walls of the tent, but inside, it was still, and warm.

After the tea was brewed, she poured it into a glass from a height that made it foam, then back into the teapot. She poured the tea back and forth three or four times, let it come to a boil again, then served them each a glass with a flourish.

Kane knew that the sugary green tea was one of the few sweets the nomads indulged in. He let the silence deepen as they sipped their drinks, letting their host savor the taste with loud, slurping noises. As was the custom, the tea was served three times.

"The first glass tastes bitter, the second one just right, the third one a little weak," their host told them with a smile.

Kane declined food. It was late, they'd disturbed their host more than enough for the night. But the man insisted. Kane felt AJ droop beside him as she leaned heavily against his side. He glanced at her once. She was fighting sleep, but game, and he knew should the need arise she'd be wide awake and raring to go.

Admiration pooled inside him and he gave her full marks. No matter how this op had started, she'd more than pulled her weight since.

Ful beans had been boiled—at some point—with vegetables, mashed onions, and tomatoes, and then heavily spiced. The woman reheated the mixture, and brought it to them in a communal serving dish with rounds of bread. They tore the round loaf into finger-size portions and dipped the bread in the bowl, eating with their fingers. The bean dish was delicious, lack of refrigeration notwithstanding, and AJ and Kane both ate their fill. He'd been hungrier than he'd realized, and he noticed AJ must've been, too; she ate everything except the finish on the bowl. And she was looking a little more perky.

All to the good.

Fatigue dragged at Kane's gritty eyes, but he fought to stay alert. Their host was friendly and courteous, but for all Kane knew, Jafar had offered Raazaq the same hospitality. He couldn't afford to relax too far.

A
nargileh,
or water pipe, was brought out, but this time Kane declined with utmost sincerity. He and his twin, Derek, had smoked half a pack of Lucky's behind the garage one momentous afternoon when they'd been fourteen. Between the two of them, they'd been sick enough for ten people. It wasn't something Kane wanted to repeat. Since then, just the smell of tobacco was enough to remind him of the indignity of heaving into his mother's petunia bed. Not to mention the lecture he and Derek had gotten from their father, when the old man had hauled them inside the house stinking of smoke and puke.

Jafar's
ma'assul
tobacco was burned over live coals, then filtered through the water and drawn up a three-foot-long snakelike tube. The gurgling sound of the water bubbling blended with the howling of the wind in a strange and unfamiliar tune that was almost hypnotic.

Kane glanced down at AJ, then gently removed the glass she held tilted on her lap from her lax fingers. Head slumped on his shoulder, she'd fallen asleep while he and Jafar talked.

"She is very beautiful, your woman."

"She has a beautiful soul," Kane said easily. He relaxed against the pillows, tucking AJ more comfortably into the curve of his shoulder. She was dead weight. Exhausted beyond her limit, she was out like a light. Kane sipped his tea. "It is a good thing you were here, Jafar. We couldn't have traveled any farther this day."

"Allah be praised." Jafar touched his lips and forehead and gave a half bow. "We are always happy to welcome weary travelers."

"Have there been many in this storm?"

"We have given a few travelers sanctuary. You will meet the rest of our guests come morning."

Kane glanced around casually. They sat in a small pool of flickering, amber firelight. The rest of the tent, and its occupants, were shadowed in darkness. The hairs at the back of his neck prickled as he studied the various blanketed lumps huddled around the edges of the tent. Raazaq? Was the bastard hunkered down, listening? Planning?

"While I'm enjoying your company, I would ask that we be shown where we may sleep. It's been a long day."

Their host clapped his hands. A servant, a boy of about ten or eleven, materialized out of the shadows. "Show our guests to their beds." He turned to Kane and bowed. "I will look forward to talking with you more in the morning."

"Thank you for your hospitality." Kane supported AJ as he rose, then dipped down and lifted her into his arms. He followed the child, who carried a small lantern, across the carpeted floor and into another tent, and then another. They were all linked together by canvas passageways. It was a fabric catacomb, leading him… Hell, it could have been leading him anywhere.

The boy finally ushered Kane into what looked like a supply tent, which had been hastily rearranged to accommodate a sleeping pallet.

Kane lay AJ down on the blankets, then reached into his pocket and handed the boy a few coins,
baksheesh.
The child left the lantern on a stack of baskets piled haphazardly in the corner, and closed the tent flap behind him.

Kane knew he needed to sleep. And sleep hard. He'd had precious little in the last seventy-two hours, and while his mind could compensate and allow for the lack, his body was protesting. Even a couple of hours now would stand him in good stead. He was a light sleeper, their accommodations were at the end of the row of sleeping tents. If anyone entered he'd hear them.

He removed the Sig from his belt and lay down beside AJ, keeping the weapon close at hand. She sighed in her sleep and turned into him, flinging one arm over his midriff and snuggling her head in the curve of his neck. Kane wrapped one arm around her and pulled her snugly against his side, where she fit perfectly. He nuzzled the tender skin at her temple and whispered, "What is it you're really so afraid of, Aphrodite Jacintha?"

EARLY MORNING

There was no horizon. Just a mustard-colored haze, a murky blend of sand and sky as far as the eye could see. The wind had died down to a playful breeze. Kane drank from his canteen and surveyed the sand dune that had once been the Humvee. Half a dozen laughing, shrieking children were having the time of their lives digging out the vehicle. Dust flew as they slid down the sides and tossed handfuls of sand at one another. Reminded him of winter weekends spent with his sister and brothers at his grandmother's cabin up in the Sierras. Snowball fights and hot apple cider, laughter, love, warmth. He smiled.

It had been a lifetime since he'd felt that kind of simple joy.

The air was pleasantly cool. But then, it was still early. It would heat up soon enough. He glanced at the fancy do-everything watch on his wrist. Tapped it. Damn thing must've quit last night. He figured it was before seven, though.

"That looks like fun." AJ came up beside him. She'd managed to persuade their hosts to give her water to wash with, and her skin looked fresh and dewy, and extremely touchable. She'd scraped her hair back into a long braid—the woman never seemed to use a comb—tied at the bottom with a bit of rawhide. She still wore khaki pants, but she'd dusted off her cotton shirt and knotted it loosely at the waist, exposing a smile of tanned tummy. Somehow she managed to look chic instead of sloppy, and eminently kissable. He should be worn to a nub. Instead, just looking at her revitalized him better than any vitamin.

To hell with Viagra.

Bottle AJ and the world would have a hard-on.

"Time?" he asked, smiling at the antics of the kids, very much aware of the closeness of AJ's body, and the brush of her sleeve as she stood beside him.

AJ glanced at the utilitarian watch on her wrist, then frowned. "Damn. Must've got sand in it."

A chill crept up the back of his neck. "What time did it stop?"

"Oh-two-eighteen. Why?"

He tilted his wrist so she could read the face of his. Oh-two-eighteen.

"That's weird."

"Isn't it."

Several women came out of the tent behind them, chattering like kids escaping from school for the summer, and gesturing to the children as they walked down to the water hole several hundred yards away. Kane observed them for several seconds. The other occupants of the tent were still inside. And while many of them probably didn't speak English, he wasn't going to risk it. "I hate to spoil their fun, but let's help the kids. I'd like to make up time, and get to Siwa as soon as we can."

It was unlikely Siwa was Raazaq's destination. But if anyone was listening they had to be on their way
somewhere.
No one came out into the Western Desert aimlessly. No one. Their eyes met. "Slave driver," AJ teased.

"Too bad the cameras are buried," Kane said easily. "I'd like some shots against this sky."

"Yeah." AJ glanced at the weirdly yellow sky and scrunched her nose. "Too bad. You and Andy Warhol."

He brushed an imaginary bit of dirt off her cheek with his thumb, just because he had to touch her. "Walk with me before we start excavating."

"Where?"

"To those trees over there."

She put on the sunglasses she'd been holding, covering her pretty, pale eyes. "Sure." Kane saw his reflection in her lenses. Despite keeping it light, he looked as grim as he felt, and clearly AJ felt the heightened urgency, too.

They walked side by side, not touching. He had the sudden urge to hold hands with a woman. This woman in particular. He pushed the urge aside, tucking his fists into the front pockets of his Dockers as he walked.

"Raazaq's vehicles are behind those huts over there." He nodded to the cluster of mud huts to the right as soon as they were out of earshot of the tents. "He's long gone."

"Damn it!" AJ's long legs matched his stride. He could almost feel the vibration of her energy as she walked,
strode,
along beside him. Like a sleek jungle animal, she always seemed poised to take off running. "The slimy turd was here when we arrived?"

"No. Jafar says he showed about an hour before we did, switched the vehicles for camels, and split."

"My God. In that wind? I suppose it's too much to hope he was smothered by the khamsin and then blown down to hell."

Their hats were in the buried car, and the morning sun turned her pale amber hair to polished copper. "They say only the good die young."

"I'm going to prove that a lie," AJ said grimly as she shoved her sunglasses up her nose. "In his case—What is he? Thirty-eight?—thirty-eight is far too
old
to die."

"Have to find him first."

"And we will." They stepped into the shade of several tall date palms on the edge of a muddy water hole. The women had gathered in the shade on the other side to chat and wash clothes. Several others, with a handful of children, herded goats to a patch of long grass and weeds nearby. The air smelled of campfires, wet wool, and the musty, brackish odor of the water. And under it all, the faint, barely perceptible fragrance of tuber rose.

"He lit out of here directly into one of the worst sandstorms of the year," Kane reminded her. "He's in a hurry. My gut tells me he knows we're after him." His gut feeling had saved his ass many a time, so he wasn't going to ignore the knotted warning this time. Raazaq was in possession of a deadly poison. And they were playing cat and mouse with a man who held no value for human life.

Kane had a bad feeling. A feeling of impending doom. Which wasn't like him. He prided himself on his pragmatism. Their directive had been simple. But there was nothing simple about this anymore.

"Maybe not us, specifically. But he probably suspects
someone
is. A man in Raazaq's line of work spends his life looking over his shoulder." AJ removed her sunglasses and hooked them to the front of her shirt.

Jesus. The world was dangling from a thread in the hands of a psycho and Kane Wright could only think about how AJ Cooper had slipped seamlessly into his life.

"Of course," AJ said, scowling, "that would be giving the bastard a character trait like a regular human being. Maybe megalomaniac psychopaths don't get paranoid. What do you think?"

"Hell if I know. I'd like to think so. Although from his dossier I'd say paranoia wasn't one of his traits. Megalomaniacal and psychopathic are two that do apply, though.

"There're precious few choices south of here as far as his destination goes." Kane dragged his gaze away from her and stared out at the desert around them, trying to get into the tango's mind. "And absolutely none that make any sense," he finished irritably.

"Could be headed to Bawiti," AJ suggested.

"Or the Sudan, for that matter."

AJ glanced up at him. "But you don't think so."

"Hell, no. I don't. If it were anyone else, I'd think he was going walkabout as the aborigines do in Australia. But knowing Raazaq, he's not going out into the barren Western Desert to find himself, or commune with nature."

"Then he's heading
toward
something. All we have to do is figure out what or where, and we'll have him."

Above them, fronds of the palms clicked slightly in the hot breeze. The voices of the women melded with the giggles of the kids, the bleat of the goats, and the soft
shuush-shuush
of the sand as it drifted and swirled across the surface of the desert in an endless pattern. Little eddies, made up of lighter grains, danced across the surface of the desert in a wavy pattern reminiscent of a choppy sea.

"There's something going down, something we're missing," Kane told her grimly. "What could possibly attract a man like Raazaq? There aren't any big, heavily populated cities this way. No rivers or lakes to pollute. He has twelve men with him. A baker's dozen of trouble on the hoof. What in God's name is their target?"

"A person?" AJ mused, her brow wrinkled with concentration. "A place? Hell, I don't know. The only thing I can think of, and it's not realistically a place he'd be interested in, is that new dig south of here."

"What dig?" Kane's instincts perked up.

"Kane." She blew out an exasperated breath. "Raazaq wouldn't give a damn that one more ancient king's tomb has been discover—"

"Tell me anyway."

"Fine. One of the nomadic tribes literally fell over a small pyramid last year. It'd been completely covered by sand and vegetation, and the oasis it sits in is so far off the beaten track—Never mind all that." She started pacing like a caged lioness.

"Finding it wasn't that big a deal. They discover new tombs all the time. But this one was completely intact. Inside and out.
That
was unique. They had a long article about it in the
New York Times.
For a month or so, everyone made a fuss about the discovery. No grave robbers or vandals. Then all of a sudden, nothing. Everyone stopped reporting on it."

She frowned, squinting against the bright sky. "At the time it seemed odd, then I forgot all about it. That was right after I was recruited from the LPD to join T-FLAC. I kept up with the articles and then forgot about it."

"Do you know where it is?" Kane asked.

"Southwest of here. About three hundred miles."

"Remember more?"

AJ smiled. "You mean like the coordinates? Yeah, actually I do. Only because I looked it up on a map when I was reading about—You don't really think that's where he's headed, do you? What would be the payoff?"

Kane shrugged. "He has a six-hour lead. Let's head in that direction—since we don't have anything else—and call in on the road. Our people will have updated intel by now, and will possibly have pinpointed his target area. At least we'll be going in his general direction. In the meantime, let's help the kids unearth the Humvee and make tracks."

They strode back to the half-revealed mound that was their transportation and started digging. It didn't take long to excavate the vehicle once the kids understood it was no longer a game.

As soon as the door was clear, Kane got in and tried to start the car. The engine didn't turn over. He got out and popped the hood. The engine was sealed, and there wasn't much sand inside it. Certainly not enough to clog the components. He dusted everything off as best he could and got back into the Humvee. "Contact the others and see what their ETA is."

AJ reached in and grabbed the Sat Comm.

Kane glanced at her as he tried to start the engine again. "Shaking it isn't going to make it work," he told her dryly.

With a frown, she gave it another jiggle for good measure. "How about if I kick it?"

"Nope. Not that, either. Car won't start." He removed the key.

"Sand in the engine?"

"No."

She slipped into the passenger seat, and hand-signed.
Our host? Sabotaged?

"No way," he said in his normal, calm tone. "Think about it. There's just too much that's gone wrong. Watches, car, communications. All out."

"The khamsin knocked something out somewhere."

"Seems like," Kane said with a frown. "I'd understand communications. But watches? Car batteries?"

"Maybe the signals from the satellite were knocked out by the storm?"

He raised a brow.

"Sorry. Electronics weren't my thing."

"Frankly, doesn't matter what or who caused it. Or how it was caused. It just is. Now we deal with it. Identify the problem then find a way around, over, under, or through it. See what you can put together for supplies."

Better prepared for the khamsin, Jafar's people would offer them food, and if necessary sell them—

"Transportation," AJ exclaimed at the same time he said, "Let's see if they'd sell us a couple of fast camels."

"Frankly," AJ rubbed the back of her neck, "I don't relish the thought of being exposed to the elements on the back of something that breathes."

She twisted in her seat to look at him. "Maybe this blackout thing will pass in an hour or so. It'll be suicide to set out across the Western Desert on camelback." It was a statement, not a protest.

"People who live here do it all the time. Got a better idea?" He paused. "Can you ride?"

"I did some riding as a kid. Horses, not camels. I'm not great, but I can stay on. I'm game. How about you? You ride?"

"Yeah. My twin has a ranch."

"Bet he doesn't have camels." She pushed her hair back from her face.

Kane gave her a half smile. "Bet you're right. I'll talk to Jafar about transportation, and hiring a guide."

She glanced out the window. The desert stretched out forever. Miles in any direction, there was nothing but sand, and the already rising sun glancing off it like light off a mirror. Other than the oasis a few hundred feet away, there wasn't a damn thing out there. It was like being on the moon. "Let's hope he can lend us something with wheels instead of feet."

"It's not going to be much fun, either way. How close will your memory get us to that pyramid you were talking about?"

"Visual contact."

"Good enough." One corner of his mouth tipped into a smile. "Get the supplies together, then check and double-check our maps. You have ten minutes. Double what you think we need for water rations."

"Aye, aye, captain."

He smiled slightly. "Make it so."

The Bedouin had a dozen four-wheel-drive vehicles. But when anyone attempted to start them, they were met with the same results Kane and AJ had with their Humvee. Nothing moved. Their host offered them the use of the camels he used for plowing as well as for transportation. Not prepared to look a gift camel in the mouth, they accepted his offer. Kane assured the man the animals would be returned soon.

Jafar supplied them with six camels, and three of his middle sons—Anum, Yusuf, and Ziyad—as guides.

Surrounded by the women and children on one side, and the men of the tribe on the other, they prepared to mount. Everyone had come to see them off, cheerfully issuing instructions in rapid Arabic.

The camels, stubborn animals that they were, knelt under duress, then were efficiently loaded with supplies. Kane, followed by the three young men, clambered aboard their camels while AJ watched their every move so she could mimic their actions. From the ground, she looked at her kneeling camel.