Free The Librarians and the Lost Lamp by Greg Cox Page B

where you’re staying?”
    She wasn’t in the habit of visiting strange men’s hotel rooms, but she was willing to make an exception in this case. Her life—and her work—were more valuable than her reputation.
    â€œThat’s no good, either,” he said. “They may be onto me already … or will be soon.”
    Shirin didn’t understand any of this. “‘They’?” she echoed. “Who are ‘they’ anyway?”
    â€œThe Forty Thieves, presumably. Out for Aladdin’s Lamp.”
    Her jaw dropped. Of all the answers and explanations possible in these turbulent times, that was probably the last thing she’d expected to hear.
    â€œYou can’t be serious. That’s just … insane.”
    â€œDo I seem crazy to you?” he asked. “On second thought, don’t answer that.” He began to creep out from behind the stall. “Anyway, we can talk about that later. Right now we need to get you away from the Forty.”
    He indicated an alley opening across the street. “I don’t suppose you know where that goes?”
    â€œNo, not really.” She spent most of her time commuting between her office and her apartment; she didn’t pretend to know every back alley and side street in Baghdad. She wasn’t sure anybody did. “I’m sorry.”
    â€œWe’ll have to risk it anyway,” he said. “You ready to make a run for it?”
    She swallowed hard and made sure she still had a tight grip on her case, which she was not letting out of her sight again. “I think so.”
    â€œGood,” he said. “Go!”
    Breaking from the shelter of the stand, they dashed across the now empty street into the waiting alley. She thought at first that maybe they were free and clear, but then she heard a furious female voice cry out: “Over there! After them! Kill the man, but leave the woman alive … if you can!”
    Shirin didn’t find that particularly encouraging.
    Dashing through the narrow alley, which was barely wide enough for them to pass through side by side, they found themselves in a bewildering labyrinth of unmarked streets and alleys. Heaps of rubble littered the streets. Stray dogs, rooting in the trash piles, barked and fled from their approach. Shirin heard sirens in the background along with the whirr of vigilant Black Hawk helicopters.
    â€œMaybe we should try to connect with the security forces?” she suggested.
    â€œOr not,” Flynn said. “To be honest, I’m not in a big hurry to explain why I started a bomb scare in a historic market. And we don’t really have time to be detained by the authorities, not if we want to beat the Forty to the Lamp.”
    The Lamp, she thought. Aladdin’s Lamp.
    â€œPlease tell me you didn’t just say what I thought you said, because I really don’t want to think that I’m trusting my life to a lunatic.”
    â€œWhat can I say?” he said with a shrug. “If it’s any consolation, you’re not the first woman to feel that way.…”
    They came to a dead end and had to double back to an intersection that was partially blocked by loose debris. Shouts and pounding steps echoed through the warren of dusty alleys surrounding them, so that it sounded as though the kidnappers were around every corner.
    What was it that Flynn had said about there being forty of them?
    â€œSpread out!” shouted the woman with the knife, possibly from less than a block away. “Find them, or there will be hell to pay!”
    Flynn glanced up and down the alley ahead, clearly uncertain which way to go. Shirin knew how he felt. Another dead end could be the death of them.
    â€œAny suggestions?” he asked.
    â€œI’m afraid not. Too bad we don’t have Aladdin’s Lamp after all,” she quipped, trying to keep her spirits up. “We could just wish ourselves to