Page 51 of Sands of Sirocco
He’d noticed the man following him when he’d dropped into a stall to grill one of his contacts about the Aleaqrab.When Noah had left, he’d purposely gone past a stall covered with beautiful ornate oil lamps of hand-blown glass.
Sure enough, the man was in the reflections of the lamps, about twenty feet behind him.A darker Egyptian, it appeared, with a trim black beard and ataqiyahskullcap.
How long had the man been behind him?He wasn’t in uniform.
If he’d been followed from Shepheard’s to here, it meant one thing: whoever was following him knew his habits.
The idea added to Noah’s frustration that he hadn’t gotten the answers he’d hoped from the Khan.
Every time he’d mentioned the Aleaqrab, he was met with blank stares or fear.Those who knew about the organization weren’t speaking about it, no matter what Noah offered.
The man following him might be a lead.
Noah sped up, heading for a narrow lane.The man following him had some skill—Noah trusted he could keep up—and Noah rounded the corner into a darker alley with a blind turn.He waited just past the turn, back to the wall.
Within moments, the man was upon him.The man realized, seconds too late, that he’d been caught.Noah grabbed him by the front of his robe and shoved him hard against the stone wall of the alley.The man scrambled to get away, but Noah held him with an unrelenting grip, his sidearm at the ready.
“Who sent you?”Noah kept his voice to a low growl.
The man eyed the gun in Noah’s hands, his breath foul.He gave Noah a pleading expression.He babbled in rapid Arabic about being at Noah’s service andbaksheesh.
Noah tilted his head.He preferred to get the man somewhere less visible.As it was, anyone might see the confrontation as they passed the alley.“Walk,” he said in Arabic.He released the man and motioned toward the alley, keeping the gun level with his back.
“Who hired you?”Noah asked.
“An Englishman,” the man said, his shudders lessening.
“I want a name.”
The man hesitated then said, “Osborne.He said his name was Osborne.”
Osborne?
That was the fellow who had hired Ginger.
Noah slowed.He had never met Osborne.Why would someone within the Foreign Office send an Egyptian to follow Noah?
Questioning the man was likely to be a waste of time and he was already weary of the task.“Go.”Noah shoved the man forward.“And don’t let me catch you following me again.”
The man gave a sniveling apology before running down the alley.Noah watched him disappear.He’d barely slept, and his head throbbed with the exhaustion.A strong cup of coffee would help—his progress had been less than promising anyway.
Hopefully Alastair had had more luck.He’d dropped in on his friend in Old Cairo after leaving Lord Helton.If anyone could find more information on the Aleaqrabor Khaled Al-Mashat, it would be Alastair.
He wound his way out of the Khan, stopping only for some coffee and a late breakfast.Then he headed toward the Savoy-Continental.Whatever reason Peter Osborne had for sending a man behind him, Noah was determined to learn of it.
He breezed into the Savoy still in his disguise.He strode toward Lord Helton’s office and let himself in without a knock.
Lord Helton was at his desk.He raised a brow as Noah sank into a chair.Setting his pen down, Helton’s thin lips twitched.“Do you have news?”
“No.I don’t suppose they’d sent you any further communications?”The paper in front of Lord Helton was in Arabic.One of Helton’s many assets was his thorough fluency in the language.But he’d been in Egypt for nearly thirty years.He’d even married an Egyptian woman, though she’d died in childbirth with Victoria.
That Lord Helton had never married again was one of the few manners in which his gentler side was apparent.But Noah doubted many people knew the story of his wife.Noah had only learned it through his friendship with Victoria.
Lord Helton shook his head, paling.“Alastair?”More than likely Helton struggled to restrain the emotion he’d showed the night before.
“Alastair will send word when he knows something.I spent the morning combing through my contacts at the Khan.I’m leaving Old Cairo to Alastair—his network there is more extensive.”Noah leaned lazily against the chair’s arm, feeling more tired than ever now that he’d sat.“An Egyptian followed me.Sent by Peter Osborne at the Foreign Office.”
“Osborne?”Lord Helton’s eyebrows drew together quizzically.“Why would he send a man to follow you?”
