Free The Lost Army of Cambyses by Paul Sussman Page B

message on her answer-
    phone, telling her where she was, and asking her to
    call back as soon as possible. There were other calls
    she knew she ought to make – to her father's sister;
    to the American University, where he had been
    Visiting Professor of Near Eastern Archaeology –
    but she decided to leave them until tomorrow. She
    wandered out onto the balcony, gazing down at the
    street below.
    A black Mercedes had just drawn up alongside
    the hotel, partly blocking the road, so that the cars
    behind were forced to pull out and around it,
    something they weren't too happy about to judge
    by the distant sounds of hooting.
    Initially Tara didn't take much notice of the car.
    Then the passenger door opened and a figure
    stepped out onto the pavement and suddenly she
    tensed. She couldn't be certain it was the man
    she'd seen at Saqqara – the one who had been
    watching her as she walked along the escarpment
    – but something told her it was. He was wearing a
    pale suit and, even from that height, looked huge,
    dwarfing the pedestrians around him.
    He leaned down and said something to the
    driver of the Mercedes, which moved off into the
    traffic. He watched it go and then, suddenly,
    turned and looked up, straight at her, or at least
    she imagined he was looking straight at her,
    although in reality he was too far away for her to
    see precisely where his eyes were directed. It lasted
    only a moment and then he dropped his head
    again and strode towards the hotel's side entrance,
    raising his hand to his mouth and puffing on what
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    looked like a large cigar. Tara shuddered and,
    stepping off the balcony, closed and locked the
    sliding doors behind her.
    T H E RIVER N I L E , BETWEEN LUXOR
    AND ASWAN
    Froth churned from the bow of the SS Horus as
    she made her way slowly upriver, her lights casting
    an eerie glow across the water. Shadowy reed
    forests slipped past on either bank, with here and
    there a small hut or house, but it was past mid-
    night and there were few people left on deck to see
    them. A young couple cuddled on the prow, faces
    nuzzling, and beneath an awning at the back of
    the cruiser a group of old ladies were playing
    cards. Otherwise the decks were deserted. Most of
    the passengers had either retired to bed or were
    sitting in the saloon listening to the late-night
    cabaret – a paunchy Egyptian man singing
    popular hits to a backing tape.
    There were two explosions, almost simul-
    taneous. The first came near the bow of the boat,
    engulfing the young couple. The second was in the
    main saloon, blasting tables and chairs and
    fragments of glass in all directions. The cabaret
    singer was thrown backwards into his PA, face
    grilled black by the heat; a group of women near
    the stage were lost in a hail of splintered wood
    and metal. There was weeping, and groaning, and
    the screams of a man whose legs had been
    ripped off below the knees. The lady card-players,
    84
    unharmed, sat motionless beneath their awning.
    One of them started to cry.
    Away from the river, beyond the reeds,
    squatting on a small rocky hummock, three men
    gazed at the boat. The glow from its flaming decks
    lit their bearded faces, revealing a deep vertical
    scar on each of their foreheads. They were smiling.
    'Sayf al-Tha'r,' whispered one.
    'Sayf al-Tha'r,' repeated his companions.
    They nodded and, rising to their feet, dis-
    appeared into the night.
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    9
    CAIRO
    As they had agreed, Oates met Tara in the foyer of
    the hotel at eleven a.m. and drove her to the
    embassy, which was ten minutes away.
    Despite her exhaustion she hadn't slept well.
    The image of the huge man had stayed with her,
    leaving her inexplicably edgy. She had eventually
    drifted into a light sleep, but then the phone had
    rung, ripping her awake again. It was Jenny.
    They had talked for almost an hour, her friend
    offering to catch the next flight out. Tara had been
    tempted to let her come, but in the end had told
    her not to worry. Everything was being