arrivals gate were still shooting disapproving – or lecherous, depending on gender – looks at the amount of tanned olive skin on display. ‘How was your flight?’
‘Uh . . . fine, I guess. What are you doing here?’
‘Waiting for you,’ the young woman replied, as if it were self-evident. ‘I came here to help you!’
‘I’m not an invalid,’ Nina said.
Macy either didn’t pick up on her irritation, or chose to ignore it. ‘My flight got in from LA about an hour ago, so I decided to wait for you. It’ll save me catching a bus to Alexandria. Trust me, you do not want to spend any length of time on an Egyptian bus.’
Nina glowered at Eddie. ‘How much did you tell her?’
‘Nothing!’ he protested. ‘I said you wanted to go to Egypt to sort out the dig, that’s all. I didn’t say what flight we’d be on or anything.’
‘Oh, Dr Assad told me all that,’ said Macy.
Nina was surprised. ‘You spoke to Assad?’
‘Sure! I phoned him and asked if I could come with you and Eddie. He remembered me from when we discovered the Pyramid of Osiris, so he said yes.’
‘What – he said it was okay for you to join a high-security dig, just like that?’
Her expression became sweetly evasive. ‘Okay, well I might have let him think that I was still working for the IHA. I didn’t say I wasn’t, and he didn’t ask, so . . .’
Eddie chuckled. ‘Never mind archaeology, you’ll go a long way in Hollywood blagging like that.’
‘Anyway, once he said yes, I persuaded Grant to pay for my flight. And here I am!’
‘Macy, you can’t just turn up and waltz into someone else’s dig!’ Nina spluttered.
‘You mean, like when you beat Dr Berkeley into the Hall of Records under the Sphinx?’
‘That was different!’
‘Not really. Anyway, what’s the harm?’ said Macy. ‘I wanted to make sure you guys are all right, and I’ll be able to use this dig as experience for my master’s. I mean, you’d rather see me become an archaeologist than a model, wouldn’t you?’
The Englishman laughed again. ‘I saw your Lara Croft photos; no reason you can’t do both.’
The conversation was interrupted by a call of ‘Dr Wilde!’ The trio looked around to see a tall, neatly bearded Egyptian in a loose-fitting suit striding towards them.
‘Ay up,’ said Eddie. ‘Who’s this?’
‘He doesn’t look like an escaped Nazi war criminal, so I’m guessing it’s our ride,’ Nina replied.
The young man reached them and extended a hand. ‘Dr Wilde, welcome to Egypt. I am Deyab, from the Antiquities Special Protection Squad; Dr Assad sent me. I will be your driver while you are in the country. And also your bodyguard,’ he added in a more conspiratorial tone, lifting his left lapel to reveal a holstered gun concealed beneath.
‘Hello,’ said Nina. ‘Hopefully we won’t need that side of your services.’
‘I am told you had some trouble recently, so it is good to be prepared.’ He turned to Eddie. ‘You must be Mr Chase.’
‘I must,’ said Eddie, shaking hands.
‘And you are Miss Sharif, yes?’ Deyab went on, addressing Macy. Rather than shake her hand, he raised and kissed it, to her surprise. ‘Dr Assad told me to expect you. Welcome to Cairo.’
‘Well, I’m expected,’ the faintly blushing Macy said to Nina as Deyab released her hand. ‘So I guess I’m coming with you after all.’
‘I guess you are,’ Nina echoed through a frozen smile.
‘Ignore her,’ said Eddie, winking at Macy. ‘It’s always fun when you’re around. So, where’s your car?’ he asked Deyab.
The Egyptian’s comfortable Mercedes C-class sedan was waiting outside the terminal; the ASPS apparently had immunity to parking restrictions. Luggage was loaded, then they set off for Alexandria.
The drive was tedious, first negotiating the eternally choked roads of Cairo before heading along an increasingly desolate highway, the irrigated farmlands of the Nile delta giving way to barren
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