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Aidan had piled some of his dirty t-shirts under his butt, so he was moderately comfortable as the caravan crawled through the desert night. “I’m going up alongside Ifoudan,” Liam said late in the evening.
“What if I get separated from the caravan in the dark?” Aidan asked. He hated how needy he sounded, but the desert was creepy, with only the starlight above. “What about the pharmacist’s assistant and his girlfriend?”
“Camels are pack animals,” Liam said. “Ruby is going to follow the camel in front of her, no matter what. And as for our entourage, I don’t think they’ll try anything while we’re moving.”
“That’s comforting.”
Liam rubbed the side of Aidan’s leg. “You’ll be fine. I have faith in you.”
Then he was gone, and Aidan was alone with his thoughts. What in the world was he doing, out there in the middle of the desert, traveling with a man he barely knew, pursued by unknown villains? What had he gotten himself in the middle of?
Though he didn’t want them to, his thoughts strayed back to his old life in Philadelphia. Not for the first time, he wondered if Blake had slept with anyone else during the time they had lived together. Aidan believed that Blake wasn’t a very sexual being, that he didn’t need intimacy the way Aidan did.
Aidan always kissed Blake; Blake never kissed him. Blake didn’t like mouth-to-mouth contact very much, so Aidan usually bussed his cheek, or sometimes his forehead. Aidan needed that personal contact, even if Blake didn’t.
But what if he’d been getting that contact from someone else, and replaced Aidan as soon as he’d left town? Suppose there was someone new sleeping in those 600-thread count sheets Aidan had bought during a vacation in France, brewing Blake’s coffee in the espresso machine Aidan had custom-ordered from Italy. Inhaling the scent of Blake’s lime aftershave. What if Blake kissed him? Used the same little phrases with him that he’d used with Aidan?
Looking up at the stars, Aidan realized it didn’t matter. Blake had been a jerk; he’d used Aidan and then dumped him. Aidan didn’t want to go back to him. If he and Liam made it back to Tunis, and it was clear whatever they shared had come to an end, he’d go back to Philadelphia, but not to Blake.
An uproar broke out at the front of the caravan. Men were shouting in Arabic, and camel hooves were thudding against the sand. The camel in front of Ruby took off at a gallop, and Ruby followed. Aidan clutched the saddle and bent forward, the camel behind them hot on their heels.
The desert air, still hot long after sunset, rushed past him. Aidan was disoriented by the way Ruby’s head and neck seemed to disappear from in front of him, by the rough bucking. He gripped the camel’s flanks with his legs and grabbed handfuls of neck fur.
The rush was over suddenly, like a carnival ride that stops without warning. Ruby nosed her way to a trough of water, making a place between two other camels. Aidan was just catching his breath when Liam appeared, whacking Ruby on her flanks. She lifted her head from the trough, water dripping from her jowls, and glared at him, making a loud cry that demonstrated her displeasure.
But she went to her knees, and Aidan jumped off. “What happened?” he asked Liam, his legs grateful for the solid desert below them. His hands were shaking and he was having trouble catching his breath.
As soon as Aidan was off her back, Ruby stood up again and returned to drinking. “When a thirsty camel smells water, it rushes for it,” Liam said. “The lead camel smelled the water and took off, and the rest of them followed.”
Aidan took a couple of deep breaths, and stuck his shaking hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Look at her drink,” he said. Ruby had her head down to the trough and she was gulping like it was the last water she’d ever get.
In the background, Aidan heard several of the men singing. “They sing because they think it helps the camels drink,” Liam said. He took Aidan’s arm and led them away from the drinking camels and the rest of the caravan.
“Did you learn anything up there with Ifoudan?” Aidan asked.
“When we stop in the morning, I want to take a closer look at the cargo,” Liam said. “We’re supposed to be taking material out to a school and hospital, but Ifoudan says there are weapons in some of the packs.”
“Did he have any idea who our entourage is?”
Liam shook his head. “They just showed up in Remada, and bought a camel. He’s going to nose around the old couple they’re traveling with.”
While they waited, Aidan asked how troughs of water showed up in the middle of the desert, and learned that the ancient Romans had set up these watering stations to capture rain. “The camels need water every couple of days in the summer,” Liam said. “If they start to dehydrate, their humps waste away, their eyes fill with tears, they start to moan, and they lose their appetite.”
“That’s sad,” Aidan said, imagining Ruby crying.
“Well, that’s why the Tuareg take good care of them.”
Aidan’s butt ached and his thighs were sore, but when the camels finished drinking he jumped back on Ruby, laughing to himself as he imagined Blake staring at the maneuver with his mouth open.
Liam rode at different places, sometimes with Aidan, sometimes with Ifoudan, sometimes with others. They kept moving until a few hours after sunrise, then stopped at what appeared to Aidan to be a random spot in the desert, pitched the tents, and rested the camels.
Aidan couldn’t imagine how Liam still had the energy to snoop around, after riding all night, but he did. Aidan lay down on the sleeping mat in Ifoudan’s tent, massaged his sore thighs, then fell asleep.
He woke some time later, still alone, to a sharp smell, acrid sweat mixed with spicy harissa. He looked up and saw Liam’s shadow outside the tent. Aidan thought, I can move as quietly as he can. He crept to the front of the tent.
He was stunned to discover, after he jumped out, that he had landed, not on Liam, but on the pharmacist’s assistant. Aidan got a good look at his face, and then he wriggled out of Aidan’s grasp and ran away.
The experience reminded Aidan of a mouse he’d discovered in the kitchen of Blake’s townhouse. Surprise, fear, then anger raced across his brain. The bitter smell of the man’s sweat lingered in the air as the sound of his racing footsteps faded.
Aidan looked around. The little encampment was quiet; everyone was dozing through the heat of the day. Everyone, that is, except the pharmacist’s assistant, and Liam, who was out somewhere doing something.
He went back into the tent and sat on the sleeping mat. The pharmacist’s assistant could have killed him while he slept—but he hadn’t. Aidan felt sure the man hadn’t been inside the tent, but he checked the hidden compartment in his backpack just to make sure. Carlucci’s passport, with the account number and password in its minuscule script, was still there.
He lay back down on the mat. Worry and fear swirled through his brain, but his exhaustion and the heat overtook him, and he dozed until Liam woke him a few hours later. “What time is it?” he asked, yawning.
“Close to dusk.” Liam sat down cross-legged beside Aidan.
“Where’s Ifoudan?”
“He’s looking after the camels. The man doesn’t seem to need much sleep.” He tapped his fist against Aidan’s thigh. “Unlike you. Just sleeping the day away, while I’m out gathering information.”
“I have some information of my own.” Aidan sat up and told Liam about catching the pharmacist’s assistant snooping around.
“Did he say anything?”
Aidan shook his head. “I think he was as surprised as I was. He slipped away from me and ran.”
“I don’t know what those two are up to,” Liam said. “They joined the caravan at the last minute in Remada, and they don’t know that older couple they’re traveling with. The girl’s Tuareg, but the guy’s not. His name is Hassan, and hers is Leila.”
“Hassan was working at the pharmacy, but I don’t think he’s really a pharmacist,” Aidan said. “I was thinking about how he acted when I walked in. He didn’t seem to know anything, and he was always asking the pharmacist questions.”
“Of course,” Liam said. “Now I remember. When my contact told me about this guy, this Wahid Zubran, he mentioned that he had a protégé in his office—the son of his mistress. That must be Hassan.”
“And the girl?”
Liam shrugged. “They must have recruited her in Tunis.”
“Maybe she’s from another tribe,” Aidan suggested. “Maybe her tribe doesn’t want this other one to get the money.”
Liam chewed the bottom of his lip. “It’s a possibility.” He got up and walked to the front of the tent, looking around, then came back, speaking in a lower voice. “I checked out the cargo Ifoudan was telling me about. There’s an awful lot of weaponry going out to a place that’s supposed to be a school and hospital.”
“What kind of weaponry?”
“AK-47s. M-6s. Bundles of dynamite. A couple of anti-personnel mines.”
“Maybe it’s a prison, and the weapons are for the guards.”
“You have a way of putting the most positive spin on things,” Liam said, laughing.
“Well, excuse me, Mr. Doom and Gloom. Maybe there’s a secret military base in the middle of the desert, and we’re bringing in weapons to stage an armed insurrection.”
“Equally creative,” Liam said, with a smile. “Unfortunately, there’s an equal possibility that’s the true story. Or that the truth is somewhere in between.”
“The truth is always somewhere in between.”
“I need to know who they are, and who they work for,” Liam said. “I have an idea. Wait here.”
Before Aidan could protest, Liam had slipped out of the tent.
Aidan crawled over to the entrance, but by the time he got there Liam had disappeared. The sun was very bright, without a single cloud to mar the expanse of light blue. Funny how such a beautiful day could have so many dark undercurrents, he thought. Back in Philadelphia, he’d loved sunny days and clear, cloudless nights. They made him think the world was safe and beautiful. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Liam was back before Aidan had had a chance to imagine too many horrible deaths for him. “Let’s see what we’ve got,” Liam said, holding up a worn leather wallet. “Whatever this guy is, he’s not a professional spy. Stealing his wallet was way too easy.”
“Unless he wanted you to steal it,” Aidan said.
“You’ve watched too many movies,” Liam said. He opened the wallet and started flipping through the cards in it. “Well, well. Our friend is a cultural attaché.”
“What’s that?”
“Sometimes, it’s a person who organizes things like art exhibits and poetry readings and receptions for visiting dignitaries.”
“And other times?”
“Other times, it’s a cover for covert operations or military intelligence,” Liam said. He looked through the rest of the wallet. “His name seems to be Hassan el-Masri, but that could be an alias.”
“How do we figure out what the truth is?”
Liam yawned. “The truth is, I’m beat. I need a power nap before we start moving again.” He smiled at Aidan. “It would sure help me nod off if I was cuddled up with you.”
“I’m here to serve,” Aidan said dryly, but he lay down on the mat, and Liam stretched his long body behind Aidan’s, one arm casually draped over his chest.
Liam fell asleep almost immediately, but Aidan had too many thoughts running through his head. If Hassan e-Masri was an intelligence agent, where was his backup? Could Leila be another agent pretending to be his girlfriend?
Or was it possible that they were operating outside the scope of his authority? Maybe they were chasing down the money in the Swiss bank account as a nice little nest egg, something to kick off their married life together. How far would they go?
And then Aidan fell asleep.
