Free The Hidden by Jo Chumas Page B

apartment.
    He closed the door gently. The place was still furnished. Dust sheets had been thrown over the sofas, chairs, and tables. The airwas musty and stale, and it was clear that no window had been opened in weeks. A family of dead cockroaches lay huddled by the doors to the balcony. He stood and listened, eyes darting in all directions. This building was occupied by hundreds of poor Egyptian families, who would take no notice of the comings and goings of his group. He knew that the
Liberation
offices in Bulac were being watched. The group had to keep moving fast to confuse onlookers. His houseboat was too public and his private mansion was out of bounds, a private place that few, if any, knew about. In the gloom, he fingered the dust sheets. A smile spread across his face, and his eyes twinkled darkly.
    There was a knock at the front door, and it opened quietly. It was Mitwali, a tall, lean well-dressed youth of eighteen with thick black hair, a hooked nose, and wide-set eyes that pierced the gloom eagerly. Mitwali bowed at Farouk.
    “You weren’t followed?”
    Mitwali shook his head.
    “What do you think?”
    Mitwali was smiling. “Perfect. Far enough away, anonymous enough.”
    “Exactly,” Farouk said. “You understand what is required of you, Mitwali?”
    Mitwali grinned nervously, his eyes searching Farouk’s face as he wondered what exactly he was thinking. He dug in his jacket pocket for a cigarette.
    “I’m at your service, Sayyid. For the money you are offering me, I’ll do whatever you ask of me.”
    “And Ali Khaldun? Is he reliable? Can he be trusted?” Farouk asked.
    Mitwali watched Farouk closely.
    “He’s my brother. He is loyal to me. He needs the money too. He will send the money back to his wife and children in his village, Mit Abul-Kum. He hasn’t seen them for months, but when it’s all over, he wants to return there and try to start a school for the little ones.”
    Farouk bit his lip. These young men were so easily bought; the girl too. He’d searched long and hard for them. They were simple country people, young boys. He’d secretly checked them out and knew everything was in order.
    “You must be ready as soon as you hear from my group,” Farouk said.
    Mitwali nodded.
    “You must not talk to anyone about what you are doing,” Farouk went on. “And I have to warn you, I will know if you have spoken out—and the repercussions will be devastating for you and your family. But if you follow my instructions, you will be paid well and you will be safe.”
    “We’ll be ready, Sayyid Farouk,” Mitwali said.
    “You will be given suitable gear and provided with an appropriate vehicle. You simply have to bring the man here to this address. Then you’ll be required to help me transport some boxes out of Cairo into the desert. For this, obviously you will need another disguise and another vehicle. This will be organised for you.”
    Mitwali nodded eagerly.
    Farouk stared at him for a moment. “You’re the right sort for this job,” he said.
    Mitwali nodded, his eyes widening.
    “It will be an honour,” he said.
    “You feel strongly about this man Issawi, don’t you, Mitwali. It’s not just about the money, is it?”
    Mitwali shook his head.
    “My father, an honest, hardworking fellahin, was wrongly arrested for stealing government money, some years ago. His taxes were so high, he could hardly afford to feed his family. He worked sixteen-hour days in his cotton fields in the Delta, and the rent on his land kept going up. He was harassed constantly by this Issawi, who owned the land. Eventually he was tried and convicted based on nothing but lies. Issawi had put himself in charge of the Council of Fellahins at the time. My father was innocent. Issawi ruined our family, our business. My mother never recovered, and Ali, my brother, still has trouble sleeping. My father’s a shattered man. When I told my brother about this job, it was the first time I’ve seen him smile in a