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"Nuuuuu Yorrrkkk, Nuuuuuuuuuu Yorrrrkkkkkk!" Blake went where no voice has gone before as he wound down his one-man show. Meanwhile, the snake was moving again, crossing over my calves in a slow slither that left me suppressing a shudder and the urge to scream.
I could feel the perspiration popping out on my forehead. I've never been known for my self-control and the act of maintaining was tough. I forced myself to think about my kids, my husband, the diet I was going to go on once I got back home – anything but the fact that a snake was crawling (uh – do snakes crawl? I didn't know, didn't care – just wanted it off me) across my legs.
Plus there was the unpleasant and very real prospect that Blake would burst forth in all his glory while I was still a snake freeway. If he came through the door, he might startle the snake and who knows? I didn't hear him singing any longer and the shower wasn't running. Uh-oh. Blake was probably drying off. That meant…
The bathroom door flew open. "Hey, Eileen, I was just thinking…" he took a step into the room, one towel wrapped around his waist, drying his hair with a second one before coming to an abrupt halt.
"What the hell?"
"Get it off me," I said through clenched teeth. I was trying not to move. The snake was deadly still.
"That thing's poisonous." Blake said. Mentally I thanked him for adding to my anxiety.
"Just get it off!" I hissed. The snake moved. Oh God, I thought, what if it bites me? Or what if it just hangs around because it likes the accommodations?
Without warning, Blake launched himself across the room, pulled the towel from his hair and flicked it at the snake. "Roll!" he yelled, as the snake went flying. He grabbed a blanket that was folded at the end of the bed and threw it over the now thoroughly ticked-off snake. I rolled over the opposite side of the bed, landing on the floor with an ungraceful thud. Meanwhile, Blake was still yelling.
"Open the balcony!" I jumped up, struggled with the sliding glass door for what seemed like hours, but in reality was a matter of seconds, and watched as my partner ran out, hurling both blanket and snake over the side. He stood for a moment, holding on to the metal railing, shoulders heaving from the adrenaline rush. I joined him – shaky legs and all.
"It didn't bite you, did it?" I asked him.
"No, but man, that was close," Blake said.
"Yeah. I hope the snake didn't land on anyone down there."
"Not to worry. He'd be dead from the fall."
"The snake or the person? Uh, Blake…"
"No thanks necessary. That's what partners are for, Eileen." He smiled.
"Yeah, well, that's not what I was going to say. I do plan to thank you at some point. But I thought it might be prudent to point out that we're on the front balcony of a skyscraper on one of the busiest thoroughfares in Madya and you're wearing your birthday suit."
Blake blanched and looked down. Sure enough, he'd lost his other towel in the scramble. He rushed back inside and picked it up, holding it over his front.
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"I wasn't really too worried about what you were or weren't wearing when you were running around with that snake in your hands. Besides, Blake, it's not like I haven't seen a naked man before."
"I am not just another naked man," he said, kind of huffy, then backed into the bathroom to dress.
*****
Following a thorough room search and a good night's sleep, Blake and I decided to check out the convention center. On the way over we discussed the snake and where it could have come from.
"Who knows we're here besides Nine and Phillip?" I asked him. He shrugged.
"No one else that I'm aware of. Maybe we just hit the hotel on a bad day." He piloted the rental car to the conference site and we got out, walking around the outer perimeter. The place was under heavy guard.
"Think we ought to try to get in?" I asked.
"No. Phillip and his men should have it under control. Back in Nine's office you mentioned you said Assad and Razzack would hit an alternate target. Any more thoughts on that subject?"
"As a matter of fact, I do. Remember that file we found in Assad's office?"
"We found lots of files. Any one in particular?" He unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel.
"Egypt Air."
He paused for a moment. "Egypt Air! Of course! Let's take a trip to the airport."
Blake pulled back out into traffic – Jilil-ayeh was something like Rome or Cairo in its traffic pattern. There seemed to be only one rule: He who gets there first has the right-of-way. Blake drove as though he grew up in Madya, slipping in and out of holes in the traffic, shaking his hand at other drivers and yelling an occasional guttural curse out the open window.
"You're going to get us shot this way," I commented, craning my neck to check out the scenery.
"Take a careful look in the rear view mirror," Blake said. I obliged.
"Which car?"
"The black Mercedes. It's stuck to us since we left the convention center."
"Maybe they're just on their way to the airport," I suggested.
"Too much of a coincidence," Blake said. I agreed.
"Hold on. I'm going to lose them," he warned me, then suddenly turned left across on-coming traffic.
Horns screamed and the air was filled with balled fists and the sounds of shouted obscenities as well as screeching tires. Blake gunned the gas and sped down a side street, turning without warning back onto a street parallel to the main one we'd just left.
"What are you doing?" I asked, holding on to door handle to keep from sliding into it. The car had no seat belts.
"I'm going to try to double back around and get behind our friends. Maybe we can force them off the road and have a chat. Got your gun?" I patted the bulge under my left arm.
"Yep, not to mention enough extra magazines to knock out the entire Madyan army. Whoa…." I slid into Blake as he rounded another corner at breakneck speed.
"Keep your eyes open," he said. "See if you can spot them." I began trolling for the black sedan. I had counted at least four heads in the car. Could be five or six, I wasn't sure. The odds were certainly against us and we didn't know how they were armed. All of a sudden, I spied them in front of us.
"There!" I said, pointing to the sleek new car about three vehicles ahead of us in traffic. I could see the windows were down and the occupants – there were five of them, I could see now – were looking around, presumably to find us.
"Keep your eye on them. I'll try to force them into a dead end or something." He reached with his right hand and pulled out his gun. I palmed my own .45, and felt in my pocket for the extra magazines. I had a bullet chambered and a full magazine loaded – no safeties on these babies. I was ready.
He followed the car for a few moments, moving up from behind in traffic until we were directly in back of them. Then he leaned on the horn. The driver looked in his rear view mirror, said something to the rest, and turned into an alley, as though he was going to back out. We blocked the mouth of the alley, Blake parking the car slightly sideways, with my side toward the Mercedes.
"Gee thanks for making me the primary target," I said, sliding down in the seat and across to the driver side to exit next to Blake. He was crouched slightly behind the rear wheel well, keeping the tire between him and bad guys. I moved to the front tire and took up the same position. It didn't take long for the opposition to start pouring out of their car, too.
Ping! A bullet sang near my ear. I took careful aim and put the shooter – who had yet to take cover – down.
"Nice shot." Blake said, leveling his own gun at a second thug. He spit two shots in rapid succession and that one, too, fell.
"Things are beginning to even out," I said. "Those other three are staying pretty low. Cover me and I'll draw them out."
"OK," Blake said. "Go when I give the word."
"Just make sure you don't kill them all," I admonished him, then came up in crouch so I could take off as soon as I had the signal. I'd already decided to make it to a large metal, trash container a few yards from my position.
"Now!" Blake said, then stood and sprayed cover fire at the other car. The three ducked behind their car for cover and I took off in a low run, aiming for the trash container. I saw one head pop up and a gun barrel come over the car's trunk. I hit the ground and rolled the last few feet, bullets popping into the ground behind me. I took a deep breath and hugged the side of the trash container – and, judging by the smell, that's exactly what it was. Then I quickly peeked out and fired several times at the black sedan. I didn't really expect to hit anyone. I was just giving my partner covering fire so he, too, could move closer.
I saw Blake dive into a doorway and come up shooting. One of the thugs stood, so I dropped him, dumped my empty magazine, went down on one knee and loaded, then came up firing again. In the meantime, one of the men was inching closer to the doorway. Blake crouched down, rolled into the line of fire, shot the man, and came up on his feet in the middle of the alley.
There was still one more shooter back there. We needed him alive. Blake ducked and started to take cover on the closest side of the sedan when the last of our attackers materialized behind him. He'd worked his way around the car while I was busy watching Blake. I cursed out loud, stood, raised my gun and yelled, "Hey, camel-jockey, over here!"
It worked, the man turned toward me – almost in slow motion, like in the movies – and brought his weapon up. But I was ready for him. I stood my ground and opened fire. I hit him and I knew I hit him, but he stood there, upright for a couple of seconds, just staring at me. Then the gun dropped from his fingers and he collapsed dead as the chickens hanging from hooks in the neighboring bazaar.
"Damn!" Blake said, looking down at the dead guy. "Now how are we going to find out who they work for?"
"How about if I just let them kill you next time? Would you like that better?" I asked. In the distance I heard sirens. He did, too.
"Uh-oh. Sounds like the local constabulary. Let's get out of here," Blake said. We reholstered and briefly considered climbing back into our rental car, but it was battered and full of bullet holes. Leaving it, we took off down the street and grabbed a cab to the airport.
Little did we know Razzack's men were way ahead of us.
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