The Arab Fall (A James Acton Thriller, Book #6) (James Acton Thrillers) (22 page)

He could
hear the concern in her voice, and it touched him how much she genuinely cared
about them. It made a lump form in his throat.

I’m
too damned emotional!

“We’re
fine, but several army trucks just went by us, heading your way.”

“How
long ago?”

“A couple
of minutes. They’ll probably be at the camp any minute now.”

There
was a pause, then when she finally replied, her tone had changed, and if he
wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of fear in her voice.

“I’ll
call you in thirty minutes to let you know everything is okay. In the meantime,
you keep heading for Cairo.”

Terrence
frowned. “Okay, mum, thirty minutes.” He hung up then turned back to the group.
“She will call us back in thirty minutes, but wants us to keep heading to
Cairo.”

“Then
what are we waiting for?” asked Stephen. “Let’s go!”

Terrence
shook his head. “I’m going to wait for the phone call, just in case there’s a
problem. I might be able to get some of them out in the jeep.”

“Are you
daft? There were three lorries full of men that drove by. How are
you
going to help?”

Terrence
realized it
was
useless. But his loyalty to his professor ran deep, and
he realized the rest were right. He sighed.

“Okay,
we’ll keep going, but if I don’t hear back from the professor in thirty
minutes, I’m going back.”

There
were mumbled agreements, and Terrence wasn’t naïve enough to not know they were
just humoring him. He could see the fear in their eyes, and knew the right
thing to do was to put as much distance as he could between them and the camp.

He also
knew if the men on their way to the dig site now were hostile, there was
absolutely nothing he or anybody else could do about it.

Nubian Desert, Egypt, University College London Dig Site

Reading’s head spun as the sound of grinding gears echoed across the
sunbaked landscape. There was nothing to see at first, then suddenly the front
of a lorry emerged from behind a dune, two more in tow, and he felt his heart
skip a beat as the military camouflage spelled either doom or rescue.

“They’re
here!” called Chaney, stating the obvious, as everyone who remained was now
staring at the arriving vehicles, including the lone remaining reporter that
had stayed behind after the attacks had been discovered, the rest all recalled
to cover the bigger story.

He felt
bad for his friends; this was the discovery of a lifetime. It would put them on
the map forever, like that bloke who discovered King Tut whose name escaped him
now. He grinned to himself how he had just disproven his previous thought.

Well,
they’ll be legends in their community, that’s for certain.

And they
deserved it. Good, honest people, who worked hard, cared about their families,
friends and students, and never hesitated to do the right thing. When the
decision had to be made on who would leave the camp, there was no hesitation.
It was the students. Laura had approached him but before she could open her
mouth, he had cut her off. “Students first. If there’s room left, then we’ll
have the debate.”

But they
had both known full well that getting the students into the two remaining
vehicles would be challenge enough.

If
only we had one more vehicle.

He eyed
the motorcycle and sidecar the young reporter had arrived in. The sidecar was
filled with supplies, and the young man it belonged to, a reporter with one of
the Cairo papers, stood next to it, watching the vehicles round the final bend
and pull up to the dig site.

Troops
piled out of two of the trucks, the one in the middle apparently empty save two
men in the front. They quickly rushed forward, weapons held at waist level,
pointing at the few remaining souls, orders being barked by a man who exited
the lead vehicle’s passenger side door.

Reading
looked from the corner of his eye and noted that the four ex-SAS guards had
already backed off, their weapons lowered but ready, each now behind an
innocent looking barrier, ready to drop and engage their new arrivals should it
become necessary.

He
casually walked over to where Laura and Jim were standing, Jim already having
placed himself between the soldiers and Laura, ready to die a human shield if
necessary.

If
this turns to shite, I just pray my other message got through.

Nubian Desert, Egypt, Thirty-two miles from the University College
London Dig Site

Terrence looked at his watch for the umpteenth time.

“It’s less
than a minute since the last time,” chastised Jenny with a smile. “They’ll be
okay. Stop worrying.”

Terrence
nodded, her words going in one ear and out the other. There was no way he was
going to stop worrying until they were all safely back in London, behind a desk
in her classroom. This entire idea of going into Middle Eastern countries,
digging for trinkets, was insane. What were they thinking?

He
gripped the steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white, then with a
conscious effort, he relaxed his grip, extending one finger at a time to let
the muscles rest, then suddenly his fingers gripped the steering wheel tighter
than ever before, jerking the vehicle to the right as he hit the accelerator.

Jenny
screamed, and he found himself instinctively closing his eyes to avoid the
impact of the lorry that had just sped around the corner, directly at them.
With his eyes closed, he jammed on the brakes and felt something slam into the
back of them, eliciting more screams.

Terrence
forced his eyes open and saw three trucks drive by, catching only a good look
at the final vehicle, the other two already past them while his eyelids had
been clamped shut.

It was
filled with men in army uniforms.

One of
them grinned at him.

And bad
teeth.

If
they’re the army, then who were the first blokes?

USS Arleigh Burke, Segregated Common Area

All their eyes were glued to the television, report after report of
attacks, almost all successful to one degree or another, kept rolling in, then
updates to the previous reports.

It’s
9/11 all over again.

The
death toll continued to rise, in the hundreds now, but it was expected to level
off soon. This time the body count wasn’t the goal, it was shock and awe. The
civilized world’s monuments to greatness were being destroyed, our icons and
idols targeted. Never again would we feel safe visiting a national landmark,
never again would tourists feel safe visiting the proud landmarks of foreign
countries, never again would our celebrities and national heroes feel secure.

A ticker
rolled the list of attacks, leading off of course with the one foremost on his
mind.

The
Statue of Liberty, New York, USA – Dozens of casualties, statue destroyed

Buckingham
Palace, London, England  – Dozens of casualties, royal family safe

Eiffel
Tower, Paris, France – Dozens of casualties, tower severely damaged

CN
Tower, Toronto, Canada – Hundreds of casualties, tower collapsed

Christ
the Redeemer, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil – Dozens of casualties, sculpture
destroyed

Mount
Rushmore, South Dakota, USA – Dozens of casualties, sculpture severely damaged

Then
there were the attacks on celebrities and sports figures. Seemingly random
attacks, but all coordinated around the world to happen at the same time. And
now that the word was out, not only was there dancing in the streets of many
Muslim nations, there were additional attacks on anything that seemed
blasphemous to Islam.

And
non-Muslims were retaliating.

Reports
were already coming in from Paris and London of tens of thousands marching on
the Muslim quarters of the cities, setting fire to anything thought to be
Muslim, beating those who got in their way. The police were too busy securing
their leadership and other national monuments to have sufficient personnel to
engage the rioters.

“Things
are going to go to hell, fast,” murmured Niner.

“They’re
going to have to declare martial law and put troops on the streets until things
calm down.”

Dawson
looked at Atlas and nodded.

“I’m
afraid you’re right. Good thing so far is there aren’t any reports of
retaliation back home yet.”

“It’ll
come,” said Red, his eyes glued to the television. “How can’t it? They
destroyed the Statue of Liberty, for fuck’s sake. They have to pay.” He sighed,
waving his hand in the air. “You know what I mean.”

Dawson
gave his friend a weak smile. He knew exactly what he meant, for he had the
conflicting emotions too. He realized it was a minority, but right now, at this
very instant, he wanted them all dead. It was the same way he had felt on 9/11.
He wanted all Muslims everywhere dead so it could never happen again. But the
emotions had subsided, and he had done his duty, protecting the innocent and
killing those truly responsible. And the coming weeks and months would be no
different. Those responsible, who would never have the courage to actually be
one of those who sacrificed themselves, would be at large, would be identified,
would be found, and would be killed.

By
people like him.

The door
to the common area opened, and Dawson looked up to see the Executive Officer
beckoning him. Dawson pushed himself from the couch and followed the man into
the hallway.

“Feel up
for some action?”

Dawson’s
teeth clenched.

“After
what I just saw, absofuckinlutely.”

The XO
nodded, his face one of understanding.

“We’ve
got a group of British nationals in Egypt that need evac along with an American
citizen. Should be a cakewalk, but you never know after today. You up for it?”

As soon
as Dawson had heard the mission, his stomach had leapt.

“Archeological
dig?”

The XO’s
eyebrows shot up.

“How’d
you guess?”

Dawson
shook his head.

“Just a
hunch.”

Those
two are always involved.

Nubian Desert, Egypt, University College London Dig Site

Acton eyed the man approaching them, the smile being displayed
clearly designed to put them at ease, yet there was something wrong that he
couldn’t put his finger on. The uniforms seemed in order, the vehicles as well,
but there was something off.

Leather
stepped up behind them and Acton turned his head slightly as the man began to
speak quietly, his lips barely moving.

“These
aren’t Egyptian army.”

“How can
you tell,” asked Reading.

“Their
unit patches don’t match, probably stolen or retired uniforms. And their
weapons aren’t standard issue, just a mishmash of Kalashnikov’s.”

Acton’s
eyes flashed to the shoulders of the men, suddenly realizing what it was that
wasn’t right.

“Who do
you think they are?”

“If they
were here to kill us, they would have already,” said Leather. “I’m guessing
these are the guys who were watching us.”

“Recommendations.”

“Play
along. If they want us to leave, let’s politely refuse and see what they do. If
they insist, we insist on keeping our weapons. If that fails, I’ve got a
contingency plan.”

“What
contingency plan?” asked Acton.

“I am
Colonel Soliman of the First Field Army, Third Corps, Eighth Mechanized Division.
Whom may I ask is in charge?”

The
man’s English was impeccable, probably American educated, and his interruption
left Acton wondering what contingency plan Leather might have planned. He
glanced over his shoulder to see that Leather was gone.

How
the hell did he do that?

Laura
stepped forward.

“I’m
Professor Laura Palmer, University College London. We’re here on a dig
authorized by your government. Would you like to see the paperwork?”

The
man’s smile broadened and he waved his hands.

“Professor
Palmer, that’s not necessary at all. I’m well aware of your dig, and its
legality. We’re here to evacuate you, only temporarily.”

“Why’s
that?” asked Acton, stepping to Laura’s side.

“Have
you not heard the news?” The man shook his head. “Perhaps you have not. There
have been many attacks across the world today, terrorist attacks.”

“We’ve
heard,” replied Laura. “How does that impact us?”

“Hopefully
it doesn’t, however word of your discovery has spread across the world, and,
well”—the man shrugged his shoulders, displaying his palms—“I have my orders to
evacuate you until we can be assured of your safety.”

“Why not
station a guard here instead, that way we can continue our work?”

It was
Reading who suggested it, and it was a brilliant test in Acton’s mind. It seemed
to catch the man off guard, and his eyes darted between the small group until
he finally found words.

“I have
my orders. To disobey them in today’s Egypt is not a good idea, I’m sure you’ll
understand.” He motioned to the second, apparently empty vehicle. “There are
supplies in the back, and plenty of room. Come, we have a long journey ahead of
us.”

“May we
keep our weapons? We don’t want to just leave them lying around.”

Colonel Soliman
thought for a moment, then nodded. “I don’t see why not.”

Acton
heard the phone ring in Laura’s pocket, but she didn’t answer. It stopped
ringing after three tries, then went to voicemail.
Probably Terrence
checking in.
Acton’s heart thudded a little harder.