Part Twenty Three
by LeiLani

Sydney’s hand pressed against the ache in her back. Prescription painkillers would help, but they muddled her mind, and Lloyd knew she was loath to take anything. He seriously considered grinding one of the pills and slipping it into juice. Her face was gray and beaded with sweat. The cool of their air-conditioned hotel room didn’t cause the perspiration. She was in a world of hurt.

He sighed, dragging a hand over his eyes. He kept up his façade, whistling a jaunty tune and cracking a nonstop series of truly tasteless jokes. Nothing too serious, anything at all to try and distract her.

The Viper…

Lloyd knew far, far more about the murderer than he let on. The covert killer was more than mercenary: he was a hired assassin who moved in and out of a thousand circles. Over a period of years, the Viper snuffed out prime ministers and presidents, anyone for a price. Nigel was dead long ago. Lloyd wasn’t a betting man, but that was a sure bet. And he hated having to string Sydney along with the vain hope of seeing her friend alive again.

His gaze drifted back to Sydney, whose common sense finally won out over her stubbornness. Lloyd nodded almost imperceptibly while watching her down two of the prescription tablets. He worried when she took another measure, stretching out on the bed, letting her body sink into the luxurious linens. She was livid when they arrived to find her listed as "Mrs. Lloyd", and Claudia as "Mrs. Preston Bailey." Bailey and Claudia blushed in equal measure but seemed fine with the minor deception. Lloyd had to do some pretty fancy talking to convince the desk clerk that Syd really was his wife and that she was merely angry with him.

Then again, this was a Muslim country, where even a white man’s word was taken over the most vehement objections of a woman. Lloyd sighed again. If Syd were thinking right, she’d have understood the necessity of his ruse. They were three Americans and one Briton stepping into very dangerous territory. They had enough strikes against them already. Two unmarried women traveling with two unmarried men would be more than their religious hosts would tolerate. Even if it weren’t for safety concerns, it would only create further animosity among their hosts, something they desperately needed to avoid.

How could he take her into the streets of Cairo when she was in this condition? If Sydney knew how he really felt about her, how desperately he feared for her as she traipsed across continents, she might come undone. His eyes rose to the gaudy colors of the desert sunset, the western sky painted in shades of maroon and gold. At least, thank God, they weren’t going anywhere tonight. She could insist until the cows came home, but he would keep her here until morning.

He wished he could tell her more: that there were fifteen more operatives circling the area, that they had at least two dozen photographs now of the once-invisible Viper, pictures even now being circulated throughout the intelligence communities of the world. Unfortunately, for every man and woman with his agency, the Viper had a hundred eyes and ears, a network of evil siphoned from the pits of hell, men and women who killed without compunction.

Originally, he had twenty operatives in secret accompaniment. Five were already missing. Lloyd didn’t want to think about how they died.

Finally Sydney’s breathing slowed into an even pattern, and Lloyd let his perpetual grin slip. He was frightened for her now more than ever. What would she do when she discovered that Nigel was gone for good? Lloyd squelched the moment of hope, a hope that she would turn to him for comfort. He didn’t have the luxury of offering her what she needed. With him - for all his best intentions - she would never know security. His job precluded settling down with the proverbial picket fence. Not, he thought with a wry grin, that Sydney would ever settle for that, anyway.

His fingers thrummed his thigh, reassured by the hard comfort of the gun strapped against his skin. Sydney might hate guns, but this enemy was high-tech, and Lloyd wasn’t holding back anything when it came to protecting the beauty who sighed in her sleep, whose dark lashes were damp with the tears she was too proud to shed when awake.

Syd didn’t stir when the knock reverberated through their room. Frowning at the lack of response, he nearly made a fatal mistake. He opened the door without looking, without asking who it was. A young woman flew at him, stumbling wildly. He caught her, his training making an instant assessment. She didn’t arrive alone nor by choice. His fingers closed around his gun and he fired without thinking. Behind the dark-haired girl, the assassin’s goon crumbled to the floor.

Only then did he let his gaze stray back to the trembling girl whose terror poured from her like a tidal wave. She was small and dark, but he realized she wasn’t Egyptian. A crimson dot in the center of her forehead marked her as Hindi. Her loose green silk trousers and tunic weren’t the traditional Muslim costume, though she’d taken care to cover her hair with a matching scarf.

Kneeling beside her, he spoke softly, making no moves that might spook her. "Do you speak English, honey?" he asked.

She swallowed and nodded, fighting for composure. Her mouth moved soundlessly for a moment, until finally she steeled herself. "My name is Amarja Lani. I’m Artie Reynold’s assistant. I spoke to Miss Fox’s colleague several days ago at the Egyptology conference. I knew they were close, but I didn’t know until now how close. The Viper has Mr. Bailey and he knows where Ichriem is. We have to stop him! There’s much, much more than we knew!" She wrung her hands in despair.

Lloyd digested that bit of information. Now that the would-be killer was dispatched, they’d be forced to move quickly. Ill or not, Sydney would have to leave the hotel. There was a dead man outside their hotel room, a man Lloyd shot and killed. Whether killed by the Viper’s militia or taken into custody by local authorities, they would lose everything if they stayed.

"Tell me on the road, honey, we’ve got to get out of here."

He gathered Sydney into his arms, uneasy at her lack of response. She must be in deep shock to be out so completely in such a short time. He draped her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, praying the maneuver didn’t do more damage to her wound.

The older Bailey and Claudia were already there, brought out by the gunfire. Naiveté apparently had its limits; Bailey caught Claudia’s arm and was pulling her along behind while they made their way to the stairwells. From the distance, sirens already wailed.

And still, Sydney didn’t wake.

A chilling thought assaulted Lloyd. There was a chambermaid in after they arrived, a nondescript woman who dusted and vacuumed and straightened…

What hotel sent in a cleaning woman immediately after guests checked in?

He grabbed the prescription pills he’d shoved into his pocket, and examined them with a practiced eye. The prescription name on the brown bottle read Darvon. He knew the drug, had taken them himself once after being shot. And these pills weren’t Darvon.

Sickened at the implications, he kept moving, doing his best to cradle Syd's motionless form against him. His mind sorted through the implications. If they set off into the back streets, Sydney could die within minutes. If they went straight to the hospital, she could still die and they’d be held on murder charges. Hell, they could be held for murdering Sydney!

Her breath was steady, and his fingers at her wrist found a reasonably normal pulse. In a split-second decision, he took a turn that led away from the hospital and into the narrow, winding byways of Cairo. Behind him trailed Preston, Claudia, and Amarja.

End of Part Twenty Three

Go to Part Twenty Four.


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