Riders of the Pale Horse (33 page)

At first the tug on her shoulder bag was so gentle that she simply took it for someone's robe having snagged it in passing. But when she pulled back, the tug became sharper. She tightened her grip and jerked, then felt the grimy hand weaseling around her fingers.

Allison tried to reach over with her other hand, but the crowd was especially thick just then, and suddenly there was another body blocking her movement, another pair of hands reaching for a hold on her arms.

Her call for help came almost too late. But the knife's blade caught a glimmer of the sun. As her grip loosened, Allison folded in and around the bag and screamed as loudly as she could.

Suddenly a whirlwind erupted around her.

The pull on her bag loosened as swiftly as it had come. The crowd parted, no match for the force that assaulted it. Allison looked up, still tensed into her half crouch, and saw Wade shove a second man off the sidewalk and into the dust, then turn and barrel into a third.

It all took place in less than three breaths.

Ben appeared in the doorway. “What is—”

“Come on!” Wade shouted. He reached for Allison and pulled her along with him with a surprising strength for his slender frame. “Back to the boat!”

While the crowd was still collecting itself, Wade jammed the two of them through. Not quite a run, but fast enough to jar. Aggressive. Hard and sharp and as determined as his gaze. The crowd parted before them.

“What happened?” Ben demanded, hustling to keep up with Wade.

“A thief tried to take my bag,” Allison said, gradually recovering. The vision of the knife blade still swam before her eyes, and she was grateful for Wade's supporting arm.

“It wasn't just a grab,” Wade said, not slowing down. “And it wasn't just a thief. There were a lot of them, and it was slick. They separated us before I even knew what was going on. Just a tight group of people, sliding us apart one half step at a time, and if she hadn't yelled I wouldn't have noticed what was going on until too late.”

“Take this left,” Ben directed. “How can you be so certain it wasn't just a thief taking advantage of the situation? We haven't finished covering the ground yet.”

“I don't know how I'm sure,” Wade said stubbornly. “But I am. And I'm not going to let her risk staying around here any longer.”

Let me risk staying.
Normally Allison would have bristled at the sound of someone looking out for her like that. But just then it sounded nice. Warm and comforting. Something a friend would do. Let her be weak for a moment.
The knife.

“I'm still not clear—”

Wade slammed to a stop so sharp that Allison almost lost her footing and Ben rammed into them from behind. Ben protested but was cut off by Wade's upraised hand. “I thought I heard something,” he said and squinted into the shadows of a rank and narrow alley.

Then Allison heard it too. A voice. Speaking in a tongue she had heard before but could not understand. Soft and sibilant and musical. Wade answered in kind.

She asked, “Is that Russian?”

The voice from the shadows said once more, “Can this truly be the man who has robbed me of my nights?”

“Alexis,” Wade said, his heart hammering hard. “Is that you?”

“Rogue said he had found you in Aqaba, but I could believe it only because of the anger he shows when speaking your name. I have both hoped for and feared this moment.” The Russian stepped forward far enough to reveal himself, then slipped back again. “All night I hear your voice, my friend. There alongside the calls of my wife and child. Asking me questions for which I have no answers.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Yes,” Alexis agreed. “That is one of them. And others. Many others. Too many. I find I cannot go on, but I also do not know where I might go instead.”

“Is Robards after you?”

“If they already know of my absence,” Alexis replied, “then you are speaking to a dead man. I saw you and your friends from my window, and I slipped out. They leave me alone much of the time, you see. I have not been well. I lie in bed much of the day, trying to regain what you have taken from my nights.”

“Will you come with us?”

Still he hesitated. “I am defeated. I cannot go and do what I know is wrong. It would kill me. But where else can I go? You have given me so many questions; now answer one. What can I do? I will not go back to Russia, that is certain. Where else is there for me? How can I bring my family together again?”

“I don't know,” Wade replied honestly. “But I will try to help.”

Alexis thought on this, and decided. “Then I will come.”

A cry was raised behind them. Wade started, wheeled around, and saw the man he had shoved from the sidewalk heading a gang that stalked the alley toward them. “We must flee!” he cried, for a moment not even aware that he still spoke Russian. “To the boat!”

Whatever the language, they all understood. They raced down the alley and across the central square, dodging through the throngs gathered about the various peddlers. And it was the crowd that saved them. Where four white-faced foreigners were given the leeway to scramble through, a gang of local ruffians was caught like a beast in quicksand. One pushed someone, who hit another, who pushed back, and soon the entire clearing was a mass of cursing, heaving, jostling humanity.

Together the four of them raced down the central port road, skirted the hawkers, rushed past the guards, and ran up the gangway to the boat.

And safety.

20

The next afternoon, Allison found Wade waiting in Ben's empty office. “Did he call for you too?”

“Oh.” At the sound of her voice, Wade leapt to his feet. “I mean, hello.”

His shy uncertainty was such an incredible difference from the take-charge attitude he had shown the day before.

“I'd like to thank you for what you did yesterday.”

“I didn't really do anything....”

“Don't say that,” she said, determined not to be put off by his reserve. She took the seat next to him, then waited for him to settle. “If you hadn't moved so fast, I might not be here today.”

Wade looked down at his hands. “I don't know what came over me,” he said quietly. “When I heard you call—”

She repressed a shudder at the memory and said lightly, “A lot of good my homing device would have been.”

“Your what?”

“Oh, something Cyril gave me. He said I should switch it on if I was ever in trouble.” She sobered at the reality of how close the encounter truly had been. “I could have been—”

“Don't say it,” Wade told her. “Don't even think it.”

“All right.” More softly, “At any rate, I do thank you.”

“Oh good, you're both here,” Ben Shannon said briskly, entering and closing the door behind him. “I have something to discuss with you.”

“Did they find anything in Nuweiba?” Allison demanded.

“As I understand it,” Ben replied, seating himself behind his desk, “the preliminary search last night was unsuccessful. But with the information Alexis supplied, the Egyptian authorities are again combing the area, and no doubt they will soon have everything under lock and key. Alexis himself is now safely ensconced in a hotel in Amman.” He looked
from one to the other. “I now feel that your work here at the clinic has come to a close.”

Allison found herself with nothing to say. She looked at Wade. The young man observed the doctor with quiet intensity and said, “You were frightened.”

“But you knew about this risk before we started,” Allison protested.

“I did,” Ben concurred. “Yet I did not truly come face-to-face with the possible danger until yesterday. I am in the business of running a clinic, not chasing after international smugglers and terrorists. I could not sleep last night from the thought of what might have happened.”

“We're willing to take that risk,” Allison responded.

“Perhaps, but I am not.” Ben sighed. “Now these terrorists in Egypt know of us and probably know of my clinic. Whose lives have we put at risk? What will keep them from attacking us here?”

“We understand,” Wade said quietly. “We'll pack and depart this afternoon.”

“We will?” Allison demanded.

Wade turned her way and nodded slowly. “Could you really stay if he doesn't want you here anymore?”

“Allison, your administrative work is impeccable. Wade, you are one of the finest healers I have ever had occasion to work with. I would love to keep you both on in these capacities and simply ask you to stop with the intrigue. But I can't. I hope you understand that. It has gone too far. I simply cannot put you or my patients or my other staff at risk.”

Wade stood and lifted Allison with his gaze. “You have other responsibilities.”

Ben did not rise. He kept his gaze on his desk, clearly unhappy with the turn of events. “I will stop in and see you both again before you go.”

Wade followed her from the room. Once the door had closed behind them, she demanded, “Why wouldn't you let me argue with him?”

“Because it was tearing him apart,” Wade replied softly. “His mind was made up. He was doing what he thought was correct, and he was doing it for valid reasons. What right did we have to try and force him to do something different?”

They walked outside and entered the brilliant sunshine. “I guess I better go pack,” Wade said.

“Wait,” said Allison. Someone was standing by the front gate, talking with Fareed and gesticulating urgently. “I think I know him.”

“Who?”

Then it came to her. “That's Mahmoud. He's a Bedouin leader and a friend of Ben.” She started walking. “Come on.”

Mahmoud was so fiercely involved in his discussion that he did not notice their approach. Then he saw Allison, shouted, and waved her over.

Allison demanded of the driver, “What's he saying?”

“Mahmoud, he say he must talk to Dr. Ben and right now.”

“The doctor's tied up,” Allison replied. “What's the matter?”

“He say men come at dawn, set up camp. Another truck arrive later. He not know them, but one was tall white man who moved like a soldier. Two others spoke a different language, he thinks Russian.”

“How can he be so sure?” Wade said, his voice taut.

Another rapid exchange, then, “Before were many Russian soldiers in desert, here with Jordanians, with Iraqis. Make much trouble. He say maybe are people you seek.”

Allison said, “Ben is going to stay tied up pretty much all day. Ask Mahmoud if he will take us with him now.”

“But Dr. Ben, he say—”

“It's all right,” Wade chimed in.

“We just spoke with him,” Allison went on. “He can't be disturbed today. So we'll take care of it. Ask Mahmoud if that's okay with him.”

Ben's driver posed the question. Mahmoud responded by turning and striding toward where his dusty truck was parked.

“Tell him I have to write Ben a note and pack a couple of things,” she said to Fareed, then to Wade, “Let's get moving.”

“Where are we going?” Wade said, hurrying to catch up.

“The desert!”

Night painted the desert with a mystic's brush. The half-moon competed with a million stars for their attention. The sands glowed as though lit by soft silver fires. The mountains were silver and still as the night, watchful as the stars, timeless as the wind.

Wade sat with his back to the camp, so he did not know of her approach until he heard the soft footfall. “Can I join you?”

He nodded, then realized she could not see him. “Please do.”

“It's so beautiful,” she said, sinking down beside him. “Like another world.”

“It is another world,” he said quietly.

Mahmoud had brought them to the Bedouin camp just before sunset. Together they had paid respects to his father, talked with several of the men, arranged for Allison to bed down in one tent with the women and Wade in another, then Mahmoud had taken off again. He had not yet returned.