Chapter 16 #2
Then he unlocked the door.
The smell of human refuse and decay wafted past as the door opened, a smell so pungent that Noah lifted his curled forefinger against his nostrils. Lord Helton strode in front of Noah, taking the torch from the guard. “You may go,” Lord Helton said.
As the guard retreated, Lord Helton focused the beam of the light onto the floor.
Stephen lay on a filthy rattan mat, dressed in a galabeyah, shackles on his hands and feet.
The cell was cramped, and the only other object inside was a stone pit in the corner no bigger than the circumference of a bowl, which acted as a privy.
No wonder the stench was so strong.
A window, high off the ground and the size of a gun slot, was the only view to the outside world.
The hair on his face had grown into the smattering of a beard, and his hair appeared greasy and unkempt. His eyes squinted toward them, then he struggled to stand. “M-my dear … fellows.” Stephen coughed. “C-come to mock me?”
As poor as the conditions were, Stephen didn’t appear to be injured. Perhaps he’d been shoved around—certainly not the torture Jack was likely enduring.
At the thought of his friend, Noah’s fists tightened. He approached Stephen and grabbed him by the shirtfront. Noah jerked him to his bare feet, then pushed him against the wall. Stephen did little to resist, because he hadn’t been expecting it or because he was too weak.
“What do you know of the Brotherhood of the Scorpion?” Noah demanded.
Stephen drew a shaky breath. Then, the slightest of smiles tipped at his mouth, but his eyes lolled back, his face pale. “So … much … might. There’s little you can do to me now.”
Lord Helton set a hand on Noah’s shoulder. Noah stepped back, his fingertips tingling. No torment would be sufficient. In the past, Noah had told himself he wanted Stephen to suffer. Now that he was powerless to do anything about it, the truth was he simply wanted Stephen dead.
Lord Helton took a case from his breast pocket, then offered a cigarette to Stephen. Stephen nodded and Lord Helton placed it in his lips, then struck a match and lit it.
The burning scent of the extinguished match was a relief, helping mask the smell of refuse, although a temporary one.
Stephen drew in a deep breath, his features relaxing visibly, the lines of dirt around his eyes and forehead smoothing.
“You see, Benson? Lord Helton knows c-c-civility. Not th-that … you know much about manners. You fool others well enough.” Stephen took a drag from his cigarette, and it shook between his fingers with such force as to be almost pitiable.
“Y-you’ll never be anything other than a bastard w-without breeding. Or culture.”
“Do not mistake my gesture for congeniality, Fisher.” Lord Helton’s voice was raw. “Egyptian nationalists have taken my daughter. I haven’t the patience for your games this evening. Do you know anything about the Brotherhood of the Scorpion?”
Despite Stephen’s inability to repeat the information to anyone, Noah didn’t like how much Lord Helton had given away. Noah had hoped to put Stephen in a position where he could find out for himself if Stephen knew about Victoria’s kidnapping.
Stephen clamped the cigarette in his teeth. Then, with effort, he lifted his hands to his mouth. The shackles had worn sores on his wrists. He held the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. “The Aleaqrab.” He gestured faintly. “Amongst themselves.”
“Do you know their leader?” Noah asked.
Stephen’s lips curled. “It’ll take more than a cigarette for me t-to tell you.”
Noah’s fist landed squarely in Stephen’s gut and he doubled over in pain, dropping his cigarette on the floor. Noah jerked him upright. “Is that motivating enough for you?”
Coughing, Stephen stooped down and lifted the cigarette he’d dropped. He rubbed the dirt from the moist end of it and replaced it in his mouth in a desperate movement. When his eyes lifted to meet Noah’s, he didn’t conceal his contempt. His coughing continued. “A … a … glass of water?”
“If it were up to me, I’d give you nothing but the parting gift of a noose.
” Noah glowered down at him, knowing his rage was spiraling.
Lord Helton had kept him out of Stephen’s handling for this reason.
Stephen had done too much to him and Jack’s capture was merely the latest foul act that had extinguished the last bit of decency Noah could muster with the man.
“Victoria’s kidnapping has your stench all over it. ”
Stephen’s face flickered, a trace of fear in his features. He sat, wearily, back to the wall. “And how am I to have accomplished such a feat from this … this place?” He spoke the last word as though it were a bitter poison.
“You could have ordered it before you surrendered.” Noah stepped back, curling his hand into a fist that he flexed. His wrist ached from punching Stephen.
Stephen’s gaze flicked toward Lord Helton. “I could have … but I didn’t. I hoped to come here and offer everything I’ve learned while working for the enemy for—r-redemption. To keep my head from a noose. Perhaps I would have been better off with the Germans. I’ll find no justice in you.”
“What’s just? For Lord Braddock and his son to be rotting in their graves while you smoke Turkish cigarettes in Jerusalem?
” Noah narrowed his gaze. “For Ginger to have your initials permanently carved into her skin?” His feet stayed firmly planted, despite the memory motivating him to thrash Stephen once again.
“Or Jack to be in a prisoner of war camp?”
Stephen’s eyes flashed. The bastard knows we have caught him lying about Jack.
Lord Helton tensed beside Noah as though expecting Noah to attack once again.
Steeling himself to stay calm, Noah stepped further back.
When he spoke, his voice felt steadier. “You want to show you deserve a chance at breathing air that doesn’t smell like shit?
Start by telling us about the Aleaqrab.”
Stephen stared at the burning end of his cigarette.
“Khaled Al-Mashat. The leader. The group is young, motivated, and armed. They’re furious about the Egyptian conscription and the oppression of the British.
” He flicked ash toward the ground. “I don’t know what motivation they could have to take Victoria, but I doubt they’ll treat her kindly. ”
The name was a start. Alastair could do wonders with a name. “Do you know how to find them?” Lord Helton asked.
“They’re very secretive. The group would only meet with me if I agreed to wear a sack over my head.”
“How did you meet with them?” Noah asked.
“I was given a place to wait in Old Cairo, and then I was taken to Al-Mashat. They blindfolded and bound me and placed me in a cart. That’s all I know.” Stephen gave him an icy look.
If Alastair were here, he would have been more skilled at learning what else Stephen knew. But Alastair was an expert in that—and Noah wasn’t. The information gave him a place to start, even if Noah didn’t believe Stephen’s denial of involvement. He nodded toward Lord Helton. “We can leave now.”
The two men started for the door. Behind them, Stephen’s shackles clinked and scraped. Noah turned to see Stephen struggle to his feet. In the fading beam of the torchlight, Stephen’s eyes were like the slits of a cat.
Stephen’s voice was a raspy whisper. “I-I’m going to take everything away from you, Benson. Soon.”