Chapter 27 #2
His plan had been to go back for Jack. And he would have. “Jack must know something. Or have something. Something they want to keep from me.” He threw down the rag, his head snapping upright. “I have to go back for him.”
Alarm crossed her features. “What about my father?”
Lord Helton be damned. But he couldn’t say that to her. Heat rose on his neck. “I’ll need to go to the CID and make them aware of what’s been going on with the Aleaqrab.”
“But you said they threatened to kill me if anyone else was involved. Wouldn’t they do the same to him?
” Victoria bristled. She grabbed his forearm, right over the spot where Masry’s men had branded him.
He grimaced and did his best not to display the raw pain shooting through his arm.
“Please, Noah, you promised. Not even five minutes ago. I’m begging you—wait until they try to contact me. Please.”
“I stayed to help your father because of how highly I regard you, Victoria. Don’t ask me to put yet another obstacle in front of going after Jack.
” Noah grabbed a long canvas rucksack and packed it, adrenaline pumping through his veins.
He needed to pay Stephen a visit. See what he could learn from him—and this time Lord Helton wouldn’t be there to restrain him.
Victoria stood, crossing her arms. “If she asked you to help her, you would do it.” Her dark eyes flashed.
Noah lifted his chin sharply. “You’re right, I probably would. Which is apparently what Stephen has been counting on. My weakness with her. That I love her like no other.”
She flinched. “Have you even told her who you really are or anything about your background? You think that won’t be an issue for her because you’re both blind with infatuation, but I know women like her and people like her family.
They will always look at you like you’re less.
Never accept you as one of them. And no matter what she says to you about wanting to leave her family behind, you know she’ll always be a part of them. ”
She came closer to him and placed a hand on his chest. “You and I … we’re the same. We have Egypt in our blood. She doesn’t understand this land or its customs.”
Noah closed his eyes, his heart tightening at the hurt in her voice. “Victoria …”
She threw her arms around his neck, tears on her cheeks.
“She doesn’t love you the way I do. She never has.
She’s selfish—and, and—I heard her. She blames you for her brother’s death!
Please, Noah … even if you don’t love me, help my father …
” She dissolved into tears, her shoulders shaking, her words no longer coherent.
He’d never seen her lacking so much aplomb. She was always graceful, always composed.
He gathered her in his arms, holding her tightly as she wept.
She’d probably be humiliated by this later, knowing her.
After she’d calmed, he returned her to the bed and let her rest quietly while he packed the few belongings he wanted to take.
His stomach felt sour, remembering how he and Jack had packed those bags in Jerusalem, only to have to abandon them on the street.
He’d been abandoning too much lately.
Alastair came for Victoria an hour later, and they parted without further incident. Thank goodness.
But Victoria’s pleas echoed in his mind. What if the Aleaqrab did kill Helton because he went to the CID?
For all he knew, Helton could be dead. He may even have been shot.
One last visit to Masry might be a safer option before going to the CID.
Noah glanced at his reflection as he changed into the outfit he’d worn to the Aleaqrab meeting. Since Masry had Lord Helton, he’d have to continue to be Karim Sayed. At least his work in getting closer to the organization hadn’t been entirely a waste.
Once darkness had fallen and the dining rush was over, Noah left Shepheard’s and took the tram to Old Cairo. Much as he wanted to throttle Stephen Fisher, at least he had the assurance that he wasn’t going anywhere for a while. Masry might be a faster way of finding Lord Helton.
He found the squalid row of buildings within one of the poorest areas in the historic part of the city.
Masry himself might have been wealthy, but he didn’t appear to want to bring his organization close to his home.
After darting into an alleyway, Noah found the doorway.
How he’d found his way back here without trouble was amazing, he’d been drunk and in blinding pain when he’d stumbled out of here the other night.
He tapped on the door and waited.
When the door opened a crack, he pulled down his sleeve, flashing the brand on his forearm. The door opened fully, and the man behind it gave him a nod. At least Noah would no longer have difficulty being admitted.
Noah’s eyes drifted over the decrepit interior of the home, little more than a hovel. In this section of Old Cairo, families of fifteen people sometimes squeezed into one or two rooms. “Is Al-Mashat here?”
The man pointed back to a room off the ground floor. In the affluent homes of Old Cairo—like the one where Masry lived—the room would be called the qa’a and was used to receive only male guests. Despite the lack of space here, Masry was a man of ritual. He likely kept some of his customs.
The disconnect was poignant. The men of the Aleaqrab had to know of Masry’s wealth because of his motorcar. Did they only know him as Al-Mashat? Or was the name just given to those who were new to protect Masry and his family?
Noah was admitted into the room. Five men were inside, including Masry, seated at a round table. Masry looked up at him with surprise, then rose. “Karim.” He greeted him warmly. The air was thick and laden with tobacco smoke, sweetly pungent.
Noah bowed his head. “As-salaam alykum. I want to be of service to you.”
“Our eager new recruit.” Masry grasped his forearm for a firm shake, then invited him to the table.
“Come and join us, my friend. When we last saw you, I worried we might find you asleep on the street later.” Masry laughed, and Noah avoided looking him in the eye.
Despite the success he’d had in avoiding Masry’s recognition, Noah worried Masry would suddenly realize who he was.
The men gathered around the table looked as though they were enjoying a late-night tea, shai, and smoking on the shisha water pipe on the table, not potentially planning a revolt.
He pushed his galabeyah back and sat at a rickety chair. The men at the table eyed him. Noah recognized only one of them: a large, thick man who had been the one to hold the hot iron to his arm. Masry introduced Noah and told them about the “problem” Noah had taken care of a few nights earlier.
Noah shifted in his seat. He didn’t enjoy being the center of attention under any circumstances, but this was particularly nerve-racking.
No matter how many times he spent embedded with a group of militants or enemy soldiers, he preferred to keep a low profile, saying little that might arouse any sort of suspicion.
His silence seemed to benefit him. Within minutes, the men resumed their discussion.
“This plan … it’s madness,” one man said. He glared at the man smoking. “Anyone might find the device before the time is right.”
“Our German friend said the device was safely delivered,” the smoker answered.
Masry scowled at Noah with a quick, cutting look. Noah understood why. He hadn’t done enough to prove himself yet, despite the other night. If Madry was smart, he wouldn’t share information with a newcomer so liberally.
Masry lifted his tea. “I’m not worried about it being found. It will only be hidden one day. I will be in attendance. See to the detonation myself.”
The fog of smoke in the room seemed to thicken, and Noah blinked, tensing, as the noise in the room became sharper to his ears.
They’ve planted a bomb somewhere. Adrenaline coiled through him.
He had to find out where and stop it.
Masry gave the others a stern look. “That’s enough.” He looked straight at Noah. “Karim. I assume you have some reason for joining us tonight?”
Noah tried to think clearly. He couldn’t ask them to continue speaking of the bomb without appearing too curious. He’d have to wait for the topic to come up again later. Bide his time.
In the meantime, perhaps he could learn more about what he’d come here for. He had to hope they had heard about Jahi’s death. “I was told one of our brothers, Jahi Gamal, was killed last night. Is it true?”
Five blank faces stared at him.
“Jahi?” Masry’s thick brows furrowed, a flicker of anger in his face. “That lying dog. He’s dead? How did you hear it?”
Noah’s breath strained. Masry’s response concerned him.
His mouth went dry as he struggled for an answer. He gave a confused look. “I’ve heard whispers on the streets.”
Masry set both hands on the table, his face hardening as he rose to his feet. “Jahi is a traitor. He works for the English—and hasn’t been seen in weeks. How do you know him? Did he send you here to spy on us?”
Damn it all.
Could Masry be telling the truth?
If Jahi hadn’t been working for the Aleaqrab, it was possible the Aleaqrab wasn’t involved with Victoria and Lord Helton’s kidnapping at all—that Stephen had just wanted Noah to think they were.
It easily explained why Noah hadn’t heard Victoria mentioned while among his uncle’s men. He’d been on a fool’s errand.
Noah could imagine the smirk in Stephen’s eyes.
Enough was enough. He would go and interrogate Stephen himself. Before he went to the CID. This time, no one would be able to stop him.
Noah sagged back in his chair. The other men in the room shifted warily. He could be in danger if he didn’t proceed with caution. “I heard it from Mohammed Hassan from El-Cid,” Noah said. “I swear it. Jahi didn’t send me.”
He may as well be saying he heard it from a man named John Smith at Piccadilly Circus. Too unspecific to be caught in a lie.
And Masry knew it.
His voice was flat. “Is that so? You did good work the other night, Karim. It’s the only reason you’re still alive. But if you’re a friend to Jahi Gamal, you’re no friend to us. I suggest you don’t show yourself here again.”