Freedom Does Matter (Mercenaries Book 2) (4 page)

She nodded. “We’ll get some sleep, too. What time did Jean-Luc say we’d arrive?”

“Eight-fifteen in the morning. Dan and Sue will meet us.”

“Cool.”

“Wait,” Kevin said. “Let’s put Ian’s notes aside for a minute.” He reclined his seat. “We should probably set the scene.” He turned to look at Willie. “What do you think?”

Willie nodded as Beckie said, “Beyond the things you said earlier? Anything’d be great!” She yawned, a jaw popping yawn that, when she realized it, embarrassed her for showing off her tonsils. “Don’t worry,” she said sheepishly, “I can nap later.”

“Ok,” Kevin said with a chuckle. “The two groups always arrive together.” Willie nodded in agreement. “Both Al Hosni and al-Kassis bring five others, usually, though Ian and I could never figure out why. Except for the woman who speaks for Al Hosni, none of them seem to say anything.”

“Wait, Al Hosni… He has a woman to speak for him?”

“Yeah. He’s more… liberal, I guess. Except for Al Hosni, she only ever talked to Ian, never to al-Kassis.”

“Did he talk to Ian?”

“Al Hosni? Yeah, of course.”

“So… Why bring her?”

“She’s one of the translators. Beyond that, we had some wild guesses, but—”

“We’ll let you make up your mind when you meet them,” Willie said.

“I’ll just say Al Hosni seems to get some… enjoyment from her participation.”

“Hmm. Okay. How will I recognize them?”

“Al-Kassis always sits to your left. He’ll wear a robe. Al Hosni will be to your right. So far, he’s always worn a suit. Most of the others, either the same, or casual clothes.”

For another ten minutes, Kevin and Willie described the Egyptians and their mannerisms until Beckie put up her hands and said, “Stop. I’ll forget anything else, and we still have Ian’s notes.”

She pushed the notebooks onto the table and watched the two men leaf through them. As she had admitted, she’d been sure Kevin would have been better than she; she would have deferred to him. She had great respect for Willie, but he wasn’t as good a debater. However, he did have a surprising grasp of the issues and a unique way of looking at them.

While Beckie was correct about the depth of Ian’s preparations, his notes didn’t make it easier to decide how to lead the two sides in the desired direction. Suddenly, she slammed the notebook closed with a blow of her hand. “I swear, the first thing I’m gonna tell Ian is that he’s gotta improve his writing! I have to read everything three times to get all the words.”

“Could be you’re tired, too,” Willie said softly. “We didn’t get much sleep last night, and it’s been a long day.”

Beckie nodded with a smile that she knew was weary. “Always looking out for us.”

Chapter Four

Day Three - Cairo

AFTER A FEW HOURS NAP, Beckie found her comprehension and her mood greatly improved. The trip to the Cairo Marriott in the morning traffic was like nothing she’d ever seen. Even New York City’s Cross-Bronx Expressway the one Thanksgiving her dad had attempted it couldn’t compare. Battered cars and busses vied for the smallest opening and Dan was driving like a local. Not only that but the vehicles seemed to derive their motive power from their horns. And lane markings? More of a suggestion than anything drivers concerned themselves with.

“Thought we’d give you the tour,” Sue said to Beckie. “Other times, we use the Ring Road. It’s longer, but usually faster.” She waved out the window. “Here you go. This is Cairo.”

Beckie watched until the self-destructive urges of the drivers forced her to close her eyes and concentrate on the plans she and Willie had made.

Dan rolled the car to a stop in front of a palatial entrance. When Beckie climbed out of the car behind Sue, she gasped at the mid-morning heat. “This beats even Thailand!”

Sue laughed. “Yup. Weather report calls for near record highs today, forty-two or forty-three degrees.” She pushed Beckie under the arch and through double doors into the lobby.

“Woof, that’s better!” Beckie stopped next to a low railing and wiped her forehead, then scanned the area. In a long foyer that ran the length of the building, she was standing between two dark pillars. Others, spaced every twenty feet or so, backed the inside of the hallway. Large lamps covered by a delicate filigree shade had been built into the columns. Directly before her, two steps up, decorative rather than comfortable furniture filled a small public room behind an intricately handworked wrought iron railing. She turned toward the stairs to the lounge.

Sue’s arm caught her by the waist. “Nope, we’ve already got rooms. This way.”

“Not many people in the restaurant,” Beckie said as they passed a cafe advertising both breakfast and lunch.

“It’s the middle of Ramadan,” Sue said. “Muslims fast during the day, so they eat before sunrise. Until the end of the month, about.”

Dan joined them after parking the car. An average height man in a suit with a head covering accompanied him. Dan introduced him as the Egyptian lawyer Amun Hassan.

“You must call me Amun
effendi
,” he told Beckie before he understood her role.

“I must beg your pardon,” Hassan said to Kevin and Dan, and Beckie because she was present, though he was careful not to address her directly. “I am sure the
ānisa
…” He nodded his head to Beckie. “… is well-prepared for this. However, I cannot—”

“Cannot what, Amun effendi?” Beckie said, facing him.

He scowled at her. Because I’m forcing him to reply to me?

“Women do not take this role in Egypt.”

“Why?”

The simple question stumped him. Finally, he said, “It is not done. That is the reason.”

“The level of education, the ability, the insight a woman may bring, these are all for naught? A woman must only lie beneath you…”

He dropped his gaze and fiddled with his robe. “I do not say it is right, merely that it is so.”

“By saying it, you make it so!” Beckie stood and approached him, deliberately stepping into his comfort zone. “We…” She nodded her head to include the team. “… have agreed that I am the best chance we have to bring the sheikhs to a successful, timely agreement.” She tapped his chest with her finger. “Are you going to assist us? Or do I ask Sue and Dan to find the second and third best attorneys here to replace you?” She waited a moment, then spun and returned to the table. “Dan, get with Sue and look up the lawyers Ian rejected, please. Write
Mister
Hassan a check to cover his assistance through now.”

Kevin caught her eye and nodded toward Hassan.

When she glanced back to the Egyptian, he was struggling, apparently with himself, wringing his hands and moving his lips. If he was Catholic, she thought, he’d be saying the Rosary! “Amun effendi, are you all right?”

His head popped up and he stared at her. “Yes,” he choked out. “Yes, of course. But… but I will… I will assist your team.” He adjusted his
keffiyeh
.

She spent some of her good nature smiling at him. “Hmm. I guess we overpaid, eh Kev?” She faced Hassan again. Her voice was cold. “Before I agree, I remind you that you will assist
me
, not the team. A woman who, I admit, requires your specialized training and experience, if you can manage to step around your biases to help me.”

He wilted inside the robe. “I will be honored, ānisa.”

“What does that mean, ānisa?”

No one answered. She looked Hassan in the face and he twisted his hands again. “It means young woman. Similar to miss, I hope. That was my intent.”

“Oh. Okay, thanks. I prefer Beckie, if you don’t mind. Before you tell me using my name is uncomfortable, remember that I am neither a Muslim nor an Egyptian. The things that offend me may not be the ones you have been taught to expect.” She sucked her lower lip between her teeth. “Of course, some are. You’re intelligent enough to understand those. Are we agreed?”

“Beckie,” Dan called before Hassan could respond, “we can get either or both of them—”

“Thanks. I think we’ve come to an understanding here…” She met Hassan’s eyes.

He didn’t flinch. “I agree. An understanding. Beckie.”

“Cool. Dan, thank them, please. We’ll let them know. Now, effendi, please sit here with me and Willie; we have questions.”

Beckie complained about Ian’s writing again as the three of them worked, comparing Hassan’s impressions to Ian’s descriptions of the dispute, the quasi-legal issues and the men involved.

“We need to understand what is important to each of these guys; otherwise, this will all go to Hell in a hand-basket. If it hasn’t already!” She leafed through the two notebooks before her. “Have you found the records where the initial ownership dispute arose?”

“Not yet,” Kevin said as he rifled through the sheaf of loose papers he was holding.

“I got it, Beck. ‘Ere you go.” Derek handed her a third spiral bound book. “What I saw, no idea why anyone’d want the bloody place. All sand, no water. No oil, either.”

As Beckie slid the book on to Hassan, Derek continued, “And Dan says the meeting will resume day after tomorrow, if that’s okay. So it still has a chance.” He laughed, but the gallows humor rang clear. “I’m excited to be there to see what ‘appens when they realize you’re a girl.”

“That brings a thought,” she said. “Remind me to ask Sue about the best thing for me to wear. I’m thinking my bikini won’t do.”

Hassan blanched as Willie said, “No flies on you.” Both he and Derek laughed.

“I’m sure we can find you an outfit in one of the local stores,” Kevin said. “You want to talk to Sue now?”

“No, I want to keep on this till Amun effendi has to leave. Egyptian land ownership law is just uncanny.” Hassan gave her a look, then smiled as she made a face at him. “Tell Sue I’m not gonna wear my camos. I didn’t even bring them.” She pulled Hassan and Willie back to Ian’s notes.

Chapter Five

Day Five - Cairo

THE MORNING DAWNED EARLY. AND bright. Beckie looked at the clock; 5:35 glared back at her. As did the rising sun through the window she’d forgotten to draw the curtain over. I’ll bet it’ll be hot again, she thought. She rolled over and tried for a few more minutes of sleep.

By six, she’d given up. By six-thirty, she was in the living room of the suite, wearing the dark blue trousers suit Sue and Dan had found her last evening. Even with a coat which fell to her knee, its suitability still gave her concern, but she put that aside as she enjoyed her coffee with a light snack of fruit and toast.

Just before eight, Dan dropped her and Kevin at the door of the Cairo Trade Center while he and Derek parked the car. She looked up at the sand-colored building—matches everything I’ve seen so far—as Kevin held the door.

After a quick ride in the elevator, Kevin led the way to the conference room. Following him, her shoes made a click-click as she crossed the white stone toward the dark brown—walnut?—table. She quelled her panic by studying the space. The walls and floor were marble. The table… She caught her breath as she realized Ian had been stretched out, had bled on this table. She breathed slowly to regain her calm. The table extended at least twenty feet away from the end she was approaching. From the doorway, she had thought it was almost that wide, but as she laid her gloved hand on the polished surface, she could see that it was less than half that. The edge was ornately carved with geometric patterns.

Kevin touched her arm. “Dan’s bringing them up now. You okay?”

“I am, thanks.” She retreated to lean against the wall, waiting.

To avoid her nervousness for a brief minute more, Beckie studied the ceiling. Gilt outlined patterns mirrored those on the table, but without obvious significance. Since they selected this room, I’ll bet everything has some meaning. I’ll ask Hassan later. She glanced at the lawyer, seated to the right between her chair and Al Hosni’s. Willie would take the empty chair to her left.

She brought her gaze to the Egyptians as they trooped in. All but one was male. The men, except for one, were dressed in western style. One of the men on the left hand side, the Sheikh, had chosen traditional Arabic attire, a robe—
thobe
, Dan had called it—in white. Half of the men wore a head-covering held in place by a circular ropelike
agal
.