The lukewarm tap water wasn't helping. Alex inhaled a series of shallow breaths and ran back into the bathroom cubicle. The dirty space was tiny. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried to calm her racing heart and mind by repeating the sequence of exercises Dr. Jones had given her.
Fifteen minutes later she climbed the aircraft's steps. In her head, she recited the reasons for going on this trip, trying hard not to turn and run. Taking a few deep breaths in between each step didn't help much either. The plane was at capacity and evoked a sense of claustrophobia in her. She hated the confined space and people around her but much to her relief the air hostess showed her to a business-class seat. Seated next to her was a man who looked ridiculously even more nervous than she.
"First flight?" she asked him.
"Not quite but I guarantee you, without a doubt, not exactly my place of comfort," he replied, still fumbling with his seatbelt as Alex opened the overhead above her seat.
"Oh, let me take that for you, Miss Hunt," the friendly hostess stopped her.
"Miss Hunt? Oh… Uh, I beg your pardon. I was expecting—" The man in the seat stopped himself from blurting out the obvious.
"You were expecting what? A man?" Alex smirked as she watched him clumsily attempt to get up in the cramped space to greet her.
"Well, yes if I have to be truthful. Professor Keating told me to meet Alex Hunt, so I assumed… well, it's just that, Alex is a male name, and I…" He scratched his head in a futile attempt to create a comeback.
"So they saddled me with a babysitter anyway. Great," Alex snapped back deciding to let him squirm for a bit. It wasn't the first time someone made the wrong assumption about her. Exploration wasn't for the faint-hearted and finding a female in her profession, was close to impossible. Her mother was one of the very few and they were always very careful about protecting Alex from the journalists who haunted them for the latest archaeological scoop. In hindsight, her parents' wisdom and foresight into the danger of exposing her identity in the tabloids were precisely what had kept her safe. In all probability, it was the very catalyst for her mother's death.
"And who is the fortunate chosen one Professor Keating thinks is equipped enough to handle this expedition?" she asked the man sarcastically.
"Sam Quinn, at your service, Miss Hunt," he said, holding out his hand.
"And why exactly did Professor Keating think you'd be qualified to accompany me? Looking at you, I have the sense that planes aren't exactly your thing. How in heaven's name are you meant to climb down a shaft or slide through an underground tunnel if you're nervous about flying?"
"For one, I'm a huge fan of your parents, studied their every move, and we all greatly respected your mother. Her death was a sad day in archaeology."
Alex ignored his comment. As far as she was concerned he didn't know the meaning of the word sad, but she was stuck with this guy and there was nothing she could do to change it.
"Well, Sam Quinn, if you pull that strap any tighter you might sever your waist."
"You're right. I'm not the biggest fan of flying," he said, tightening the seatbelt even more.
"I suppose you do this so often you might as well be driving a car. How many expeditions have you been on, Miss Hunt?"
"Unfortunately more than I care to count," she replied while fumbling with her safety buckle on her lap. The effect of the potent sedative was kicking in and slurring her speech. Perhaps she should have taken just one, she thought.
"Can I just say, Miss Hunt, I—"
"Alex, the name is Alex. Short for Alexandra, a female name." She cut Sam off, straight away regretting her irritation and bitter edge. Today, flying wasn't her thing either.
"Indeed yes, Alex," he said clearing his throat. "As I was just going to say, I majored top of my class and am well equipped to have been selected to accompany you on this adventure. Your parents have been my inspiration and role models growing up. The very reason I fell in love with archaeology. I gave Professor Keating my word and well, how shall I put this? I'm aware of your condition."
That statement annoyed her even more, but she bit her tongue.
"Well, thank you, Mr. Quinn, but judging from those clothes, this is, without doubt, your first rodeo. As for my condition, I can manage just fine, thank you."
He looked down at his crisp white collared shirt and black jeans and shuffled awkwardly in his seat.
"I figured if I'm going to die I should at least be dressed for the burial." Sam broke into laughter and Alex fought the urge to smile. At least the man had a sense of humor, even at his own expense.
"You, on the other hand, Alex Hunt, are dressed like GI Jane, ready to crawl through some tomb or chasm in the middle of a jungle. Do you always dress like this when you're flying?"
"Only when I try to blend in with the locals at my destination. Africa is unlike any other place you might have been to, Mr. Quinn. The terrain is tough and the people, well, let's just say not all of them are friendlies."
Sam looked even more scared now.
"How do you mean 'not all of them are friendlies'? What does that mean specifically?"
"Don't worry, Mr. Quinn. Dressed like that you might, in effect, scare them off."
Alex rubbed her eyes. Her eyelids appeared to weigh rather heavily as they started pulling south and she was certain her words were slurring a little too much. She pulled at the seatbelt in much the same way Sam did earlier and focused on her breathing again. It was the first time she'd set foot out of the house in over three years. If this wasn't facing her fears head-on, she didn't know what was. The corner of her mouth curled up ever so slightly. She loved Africa and could almost smell the familiar red dust that was such a big part of her childhood. To some extent, she welcomed the exhilarating possibility of uncovering the truth about Rhapta and finding the key everyone believed existed. Discovering Rhapta was her mother's single greatest quest. She risked and lost her life for the sake of fulfilling her dream chasing after the legendary city.
Her father's face interrupted her thoughts. Losing her father was not an option. Her stomach turned at the thought and formed a lump in her throat. She swallowed hard and tried to control her trailing fears. Look ahead, straight ahead. You can do this. She recited in her head. She just needed to follow her father's last clues and bring him back home. That was it. Nothing more.
One of the flight crew members announced the emergency procedures and Alex's eyes followed the hostesses up and down the aisles as they did their last checks on the overheads before strapping into their seats.
She still wasn't sure how she had managed to leave her apartment that morning. If it weren't for Dr. Jones driving her to the airport, she in all likelihood would not have even made it to her front steps.
A nervous thought made her reach inside her khaki jacket and check that the round container of pills was still there. She started her breathing exercises and lay her head back against the headrest. Her hands gripped the armrests tightly as the plane took flight.
Moments later, Sam Quinn's firm, muscular hand clasped hers. She wanted to pull away, but somehow the urgent need to rely on his strength pushed all her instincts aside. Alex glanced at him sitting stiffly in his seat with his eyes shut tight. Maybe he needed her courage too and in that very moment, Alexandra Hunt concluded that everything would be all right. Something in that moment told her that Sam Quinn would help her through the mission just fine.
She must have passed out shortly after takeoff as a passing passenger woke her by knocking her elbow with his kneecap. One by one the passengers scurried along the narrow aisle to disembark the plane. Still slightly woozy from the heavy sedation, Alex unclipped her seatbelt and turned sideways to look at Sam who patiently sat waiting in his seat. He seemed somewhat relieved that the plane was now safely on solid ground.
"Ah, hello there. That was quite a nap, Miss Hunt. Here, I saved you some juice and a bread roll."
The sedatives left her mouth dehydrated to the point where her tongue was stuck solidly to her palate.
"Thanks. Shall we head off then?" Alex replied while reaching for her backpack from the overhead.
"You're going to have to change out of those clothes, Mr. Quinn. You won't last an hour in them. Please tell me you packed a carry-on with some khakis."
"Right here. I've come prepared." He tapped his rucksack now hanging on his chest like a baby carrier.
He looked like a naughty school child about to go to his first cub camp.
"Best you saddle up, Mr. Quinn and let's shake a leg. You might have to change in the Jeep."
Alex couldn't resist rattling his cage a tad. This man was so obviously a novice at all of this. The horrified look on his face at the idea of having to change in a moving Jeep in the middle of rural Africa was just priceless. But it was a welcome distraction to her ever-troubled mind.
The hot African sun hit her face the moment she stepped out of the plane onto the runway. Suddenly her feet were bricks of lead, glued solidly to the ground. Alex recalled her mother's face and the look in her eyes as they dragged her away. Her heart started racing, and her palms broke into a clammy sweat. She swallowed twice in a futile attempt to wash down the lump that found its way to her throat. Fear gripped her neck as doubt enveloped her mind. There was just no way she could go through with this. For a moment, she contemplated turning around and heading back into the plane. She looked back but the crew had already raised the steps and swiftly closed the door behind them. Did they sense her trepidation? Perhaps they were told to do so.
Look straight ahead, Alex. You can do this, her inner voice whispered, but her legs weren't budging. No matter how hard she tried to walk, they just didn't react. She stood on the tarmac paralyzed for what seemed like hours.
Sam's firm supportive hand on her elbow gently nudged her forward.
"I've got you, Alex. You can do this."
Suddenly the look in his eyes turned from cub scout to ranger, and Alex couldn't help but wonder if this hidden strength was precisely what Professor Keating had seen in him.
He nodded toward the bottle of juice that was still clenched in her hand, spurring her on to drink some more. She had never taken orders from any man except her father, but somehow her body decided to drop its defenses and follow his advice.
As if on cue her feet complied, and she felt herself walk steadily toward the passport control counter. A knee-jerk reaction had her greet the official in Swahili, which caught her entirely by surprise. She didn't expect to remember the language with such ease. She sensed Quinn was as surprised, or possibly impressed, but ignored it. The official's eyes paused firmly on her face, as he looked her up and down with suspicion. Why wouldn't he? She was a white English woman in the middle of Africa speaking fluent Swahili.
"Why are you in Tanzania?" he asked while flicking through her passport.
"I'm here on business," she replied in a calm voice.
"What business?"
"I work for a prestigious British University. I'm an archaeologist."
Her comment brought a little bit too much attention from him, and he flicked back and forth through the pages of her passport as if he had lost something. He turned around and tilted his chin up at the supervisor behind him.
Without exchanging a single word, he pointed to something on one of the pages, yielding another incredulous look in Alex and Sam's direction. Alex guardedly glanced over to Sam who stood two steps behind her and who, without fail, also sensed that something was up. If those two officials were on the payroll of whoever kidnapped her father, they stood profoundly little chance of passing through the customs gates.
Alex felt her legs turn to jelly as the officials sized them up and down. Several minutes passed while the guard keyed in some letters on the somewhat antiquated computer. Africa surely was a third-world country. Those things were archaic, she thought. The officer waited for something to pop onto the screen and turned to Alex. This time with a slight steely look in his eyes.
"How long are you staying?"
"Not long I hope. As soon as I manage to complete the study."
The stern look on his face told her that her answer wasn't quite what they were expecting from their interrogation efforts, so she added swiftly.
"I would guess about seven to ten days at the most."
Sam tugged at his collar and fiddled with his buttons.
"Don't!" Alex whispered to him over her shoulder.
"Don't show concern. You need to downplay the situation. These guys are looking for a reason not to allow us through."
The second official pulled out his mobile phone and disappeared behind the column behind his cubicle.
"Who is he calling?" Quinn whispered back nervously.
"My money is on the ringleader."
Alex paused. Her senses told her the official wasn't buying her story.
"Now listen closely, Quinn. Things are about to go bad for us. If we allow them to take us now, we're in trouble. How much cash do you have on you?"
"Cash? Oh, yes, okay cash." He unzipped his rucksack's side pocket.
"Three hundred quid."
"Great, I have three hundred too. Give me your passport. Hurry."
"Are you sure you're doing the right thing here, Alex? Bribery is a serious crime, and we can land in a lot of trouble for this. If your plan backfires we—”
"I'm quite aware, Quinn, but I'm afraid this plan might be our only chance."
Alex slipped the wad of notes into their passports and slid the lot discreetly across the counter, looking the controller dead in the eye. Though her heart had quite positively sunk into the pit of her stomach, she dared not flinch.
The official reached across to take her bribe from her. Alex pushed down firmer on the passports, deliberately not letting the payoff go just yet. His yellow-tinted eyeballs met her firm stare. Words were not necessary in that moment. Alex could judge from his face that this tactic was not new to him. With his hands next to the payoff, the guard signaled for the head official to join him. It didn't take any convincing and, just as quickly as the mobile phone had appeared earlier, he slipped it back into his pocket.
Alex kept her eyes locked on theirs. Aware that Quinn still stood frozen behind her she sensed he might have stopped breathing altogether, but she dared not look away.
The head official cleared his throat and handed the ink stamp to the guard who quickly tucked the notes under some papers. Alex watched nervously as he stamped both their passports. He slid them across the counter before slipping the cash out from beneath the papers and into his pocket.
"Next!" he shouted, signaling for them to walk through the gates.
This time it was Quinn who couldn't move.
"Come. Let's go!" Alex elbowed him.
Her legs resembled the jelly in Mrs. Parsons' Christmas trifle but somehow the adrenaline of her newfound corruption talent propelled them forward with the agility of a gazelle.
"Keep up, Quinn. We're not out of the woods just yet. We need to find our way to the pickup. Hurry!"
"What about our luggage?"
"We'll have to send someone for it later. We need to go now, Quinn."
Soundly aware of several police officials' watchful glances, Alex walked on. She suspected that they might have already been informed to either keep an eye on them or wait for an opportunity to gain their own payoffs.
"I can't believe you pulled that off. That was amazing! How did you know they were going to take the bribe? Where did you even learn how to do that?"
Quinn's admiration did not quite grab Alex's full attention. Her senses were on high alert while she tried to maneuver them through the busy airport.
"Where are we going?"
"The pickup point. We have to find our way out of here. Let's just hope the ground team got the message and has someone ready and waiting. My father always had a knack for rounding up the best ground teams. But I don't have the foggiest if Professor Keating managed to relay a message to them or not. Unfortunately, we do face the odd chance that they were also captured or worse, killed when they kidnapped my father."
"And what happens if the ground crew isn't at the pickup?"
"They had better be waiting for us, or we are as good as dead. Africa is spectacularly beautiful but if you face its bad side the people can be your worst enemy. And judging from our first encounter, we're not likely to be off on a good footing. Someone will be waiting for us, I'm sure."
Quinn's tanned face turned a pale gray as he realized that what he thought was going to be a walk in the park, might, in fact, change his life forever.
Once through the airport's south end, the pair sneaked through the maintenance exit. This was the one spot in the entire airport not covered by a surveillance camera—knowledge Professor Keating somehow acquired. Alex dared not ask how. Judging from how quickly those officials took their bribe it was evident Africa had a different set of rules. She guessed he bought the intel in much the same way she had just bought their entry into the country. Chuffed it appeared they lost the entourage, they stopped briefly to check they were still undetected.
Alex shot up a silent prayer that someone would be waiting for them at their pickup point. The end of the corridor came closer as they hurriedly moved toward the heavy steel door at the end of the passage and flung it open.
"Lakicia!"
The sound of her Swahili name overwhelmed Alex with immense relief. It had been so long since she'd heard anyone call her by her tribal name and she instantly recognized the voice.
"Jelani! You are a feast for my eyes, my old friend."
"Me too, Lakicia. You have been gone for too long but come, we go now. We talk later. Militia they follow me. Ol' Jelani still faster," he said, chuckling without a care in the world.
"I've missed you, my friend," she continued in his native tongue.
"Lakicia, you still remember? How many years and you still remember the language?" Jelani replied in surprise as he smiled to reveal a mouth missing a number of teeth.
"The two of you do realize that I don't speak a word of Swahili, so I frankly don't have a clue what you're saying. But be that as it may, I'm hoping you remember we have some assailants chasing us!"
Alex was so caught up in seeing her childhood friend again that she totally forgot about Quinn and the imminent danger behind them.
"Sorry, Quinn. Meet my old friend, Jelani. We spent a lot of time together as children. His father was my father's trusted mshauri. He taught him everything he needed to learn to survive here in Tanzania. Jelani, this is Sam Quinn. Apparently, he's one of the top students at the university, or so I'm told. I'm trusting he has a hidden skillset to help me find my father underneath all this."
"I am not so sure about that, Lakicia. His clothes say the opposite," Jelani joked, letting out another chuckle as he sped off down the dirt road.
"Okay, okay. I still can't understand what the two of you are saying, but I am no one's fool. I'll change my clothes," Sam joked back.