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Chapter 10

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Lauren wasn’t sure what’d happened. She might have passed out, or ... they could have drugged her. She couldn’t say for sure. The throbbing in her head was exacerbated by the ache in her shoulders; the muscles in her back cramped and seized.  Maybe they’d clobbered her. Lauren pushed herself up and forced her vision to clear.

She sat inspecting the room, realizing she couldn’t possibly stand. Not yet. She struggled to stay calm. The room, she brought her focus back to the small space, was painted a pale off-white, unadorned with any decorative furnishings. She was sitting on a bench that was spartan to say the least. There was a table and two chairs by the window. The blinds were closed.

That gave Lauren a thought that required her to stand. She did and felt her knees tremble beneath her. She allowed a moment to steady herself before she took the first tentative step, then all but staggered to the table. Lauren reached for the cord to the blinds and raised them. Outside, the shade of night had fallen She had a view of the city below, at least ten stories up. All hopes of escape were lost. The windows were not designed to be opened, and considering the industrial chair, she knew she would never be able to throw one through the window. She wasn’t even certain she could crack it.

The other tall buildings around her gave her a sense of place. There were cranes rising above two buildings and she’d seen them before. The driver who’d taken her from the museum to the café had taken her on a tour of the old district, and she’d seen downtown from a distance. If she could get out, she at least knew which direction to go to find her way back to her hotel. There was a metro station entrance at almost every corner in the city center, and taxis weren’t hard to find either. Lauren just needed to get out.

She went to the one door into the room and tested the knob. Hope shriveled in her heart as it refused to turn. It was locked from the outside. Like a caged animal, she paced a few breathless moments as her mind raced. How could she possibly escape? What did those men want? Who were they?

The door opened as if in answer to the racing questions in her mind. She was tempted to charge them, hoping to catch them off guard, but when all three filled the doorway, she knew it was futile.

“Take a seat, Dr. Grayson.” The tallest one ordered. He was an older man, possibly in his early fifties. His hair was thin, dark; probably dyed. He reminded her of her high school algebra teacher. His formal tone and deep voice gave him the power of authority. Lauren backed up and sank down on the bench. She said nothing. Let them make the first move.

“Over here,” he said matter of factly as he walked over to the table and pulled out a chair for her. She looked over at the others. The one on the right was older, more muscular, and seasoned. His hair had probably been sandy blond when he was a boy. Now, his hair was pale-blond, not quite white. What stood out on him was the color of his eyes. The diluted blue was closer to the color of ice than water, but he had a wicked countenance that made her recoil. He stared her down as if in challenge, daring her not to obey so he could intercede. The third man was shorter, balding, with glasses and a sour disposition. He wasn’t as buff as the other, but he was wiry, and she felt the need for caution as she gaged her enemies. While the first one might pull a gun on her, this one probably had a knife in his pocket. He probably had the skills to use it, too. 

“If you please, madame.” The leader spoke with a saccharin-kindness that was bitter to Lauren’s senses. Still, she rose and walked on unsteady legs, stoically, to the chair he held out for her, sinking as gracefully as she could. He pushed the chair back in as she sat down at the table. He took the seat across from her, staring her down.

The leader reached into his coat and took out a tattered photograph. The picture was grainy, like a grab from a security camera. The image was black and white. Lauren recognized the man at once. “Do you know this man, Dr. Grayson?”

Her mouth had gone dry, and she swallowed hard, nodding. “He came to my house in Cairo. He said his name was Dr. Masa.”

“Did he say why he came to see you? What he wanted from you?”

“He said he worked for the museum at the university here. Something about an ancient text he wanted my help with.” She took a deep breath. Suddenly she felt weak. Something told her not to tell them everything. She would appear to cooperate, but ...

“Why would he come to you for help?”

“I have a knack for languages,” she said. “He wanted me to translate.”

The man glanced ever so quickly to the men by the door. Lauren noticed the look passing between them. “When did you last see him?”

“He took me to the hotel after we landed in Prague.” She noticed the leer that crossed the man’s face and realized how that must sound. She refused to give him the pleasure of confirming his suspicions. She didn’t have to explain anything to anyone, except Rowan. He didn’t need her explanation. “He said the University was paying the bill and all my expenses were covered. I was supposed to meet with him this morning at the museum, but ...” She swallowed back the bile rising in her throat. “They’d never heard of him.”

“I don’t believe your story, Dr. Grayson.  You would be wise to tell us the truth.”

“But that is the truth.” The room spun. She clutched the edge of the table to steady herself. “Who are you people? I don’t even know you. Why would I have any reason to lie to you?”

“We work for a very ... powerful man,” he said. “One who answers to no one. One who has given us the authority to do whatever it takes to get the answers we seek.”

“Well, you have them,” Lauren said. “I don’t know anything else.” She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair like a defiant child.

The man narrowed his eyes at her and pounded his fist on the table. Lauren startled but did not yelp. She remained stoic on the outside. Inside, her mind was spinning. Her guts were in knots and her heart was galloping against her sternum. The racing of her mind kept her from making sense of it all.

“Answer the question truthfully, Dr. Grayson. I will not ask it again.”

For a split second she wanted to retort, “What do you know of truth?” But she held her tongue. “I have been truthful.” The words came out so easily. She had told the truth. 

“You are a liar,” he snapped.

“Then we have nothing more to discuss,” Lauren said, crossing her arms.

“Dr. Grayson,” the man across from her said. He lifted his hand, and she noticed the blond one at the door start toward her. The leader waved him off. “What was the text this man wanted you to see?”

Lauren paused a moment before she answered. “He didn’t say.” She swallowed hard. “He only said it was torn from an ancient manuscript. 14th century, I think he said. He didn’t give me many details.”

“Yet you came from Cairo to Prague? At the bidding of a man you didn’t know. To see a document ... a document that he did not identify? This is what you expect us to believe?”

“It’s not for me to say whether or not you believe, Mr. ...” she hesitated. He didn’t offer up a name. “It is the truth of things. A truth that I can’t change.”

“You take me for a fool, Dr. Grayson.”

“You take me for an idiot and a liar, sir.” Lauren retorted. “I can assure you. I am neither.”

* * *

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Rowan sat back from Tima’s table feeling bloated and miserably stuffed. The food was good, and there was plenty of it. He’d made a pig of himself, and he knew he’d pay for it later. He glanced over at John Carter sitting back in the little chair that had once belonged to one of Tima’s children. John Carter stuck out his gut and put his hand on his belly. “Dat was good,” he groaned in a perfect impression of his father.

“Yeah it was,” Rowan laughed. “I’m going to have to go for a run before bedtime.”

“Well,” Tima said, standing to clear the table. “You’d best hurry. Daylight is burning, and that one isn’t going to make it much longer.”  Henry was already dozing at the table. He was like his mother. He wanted to eat early and was usually ready for bed when she was.

Rowan stood and gathered up his plate, then returned for the rest of the dishes. “Rowan, darling,” Tima scolded. “Go. I will take care of the dishes.”

“That was a fantastic meal. The least I can do is help with the dishes.” Rowan refused to be shooed away. “Besides, it’s still hot outside. The boys like it when we go for a run after the sun sets.” They often fell asleep in the jogging stroller, so he didn’t worry too much about going for a run after their bedtime. Sometimes, it was the easiest way to get them to sleep.

“Just be careful,” Tima said. “Not everyone in Egypt is as nice as your professor.”

Rowan leaned down and kissed her cheek. “No one in Egypt is as nice as my professor.”

* * *

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“Okay guys, load up.” Rowan called up to Henry and John Carter. The boys came to the top of the steep stairway and sat down. John Carter scooted down each step on his backside. Lauren had been so afraid they might take a tumble that she required this method — at least of John Carter — to come down. The boys thought it a fun game, so Henry often joined in

Henry stopped at the bottom and waited for his little brother, taking his hand as he reached the last step. Together they bounded out to the patio where Rowan had the jogging stroller set up, ready to go. They’d had it shipped over from the States because there wasn’t one tall enough for him here in Egypt. The boys loved to go with Rowan when he went running and it intensified his workouts.

Rowan was never much of an athlete, even as a boy. He would have preferred to read or play video games. He liked to tinker with computers, and even built his own gaming rig while he was stationed in Afghanistan so he could play World of Warcraft with his buddies state-side. Of course now, he had little time for such diversions. His health had become an issue over the years of constant travel, eating in restaurants, and having to catch-as-catch-can. Now, with Lauren cooking at home — even in spite of dinners at Tima’s — he was much more fit. His stomach was flat, and his muscles were visible beneath his skin. Lauren didn’t seem to mind his new physique; not one bit.

Taking the boys with him to run was a bonus. They spent many happy hours together. He loved to hear them laugh. It made his heart light and made his feet feel like they were floating inches from the ground.

Lauren refused to run. She was happy to walk. She loved doing yoga or playing with the boys. She’d always been slender but having two boys had changed her physique over the years. She was still slim, but her hips were gloriously wider, and she carried a little more weight in her buttocks and chest. Rowan loved her new physique. She was never sexier to him than she was now. He didn’t have to be anywhere near her for the thought of her to turn him on. It was a blessing ... and a curse. 

That reminded him to check his phone. “Hey, guys,” Rowan said, before they got started. “Let’s call Momma and see how she’s doing,” Rowan said.

“Momma’s sick,” Henry said. “Did you know Momma was sick, Daddy?”

Rowan came around to the front of the stroller and knelt down in front of his oldest. “What?” Rowan furrowed his brow. “How do you know she’s sick?”

“I talked to her,” Henry said. “She has another baby in her tummy.”

Rowan’s jaw dropped and he sputtered, taken aback. “Did she tell you?”

“No,” Henry said. “I just know.”

“Oh,” Rowan said, standing.

“She’s looking for the devil.”

Henry’s words struck Rowan in the gut. “What?” He sank back to one knee. “Why do you say that?”

“Cause its true,” Henry said. “I heard her telling Auntie Tima she was going to Prague to find the devil.”

“Actually,” Rowan chose his words carefully. “She’s looking for a missing page from the Devil’s Bible. When you’re older, I’ll tell you the whole story.”

“We read the bible,” Henry said. “And the Torah ... and the Quran. Is that like the Quran?”

Rowan did a double take. He could not believe this kid. Henry was so smart for being such a little boy. He understood things kids his age could never imagine. “Something like that,” Rowan said, mussing up his sandy-blond hair.

Rowan took out his phone and hit the speed-dial for his wife. The line rang and finally went to voice mail. “Hi, honey,” Rowan chirped. It was hard to be cheerful when he missed her as much as he did right now. He did it for the boys. “Someone wanted to tell you hi.”

He held out the phone for the boys. “Hi, Momma,” Henry said.

“Momma! Hi! Momma! Momma, I mith you!” John Carter said with glee.

“Momma,” Henry took the phone. “There is a nice man who is going to help you find that devil. It’s okay. You can trust him. He’s a good-guy.” He handed the phone back to his dad. “Let’s go, Daddy,” Henry said, yawning.

Rowan stood, stunned; his mouth hung agape like a catfish on dry land.