“She mentioned a scuba school. I think she hinted at the name, but I’ll have to look at a phone book or some brochures.”
“She hinted.” Xander let out a short huff of a laugh. “Right. Then I’d say we eat and then head to the tourist office.”
A few moments later, he handed her the pita stuffed with thinly sliced meat, lettuce, and yogurt sauce, and they continued their stroll through the souq.
“What are we going to do once we find the scroll?” Leila asked between mouthfuls.
“You mean if we find it.” Xander picked at a stray piece of lettuce stuck to his sandwich wrapper. “What if we’re just chasing our tails?”
Leila frowned. “Do you think Faris is making it all up?”
“He’s setting off bombs and framing Soliman, which involves you and me. Let’s say this scroll with the formula for a medieval bomb does exist. If you’re caught with it… well, you can imagine the rest.”
She could. That would mean goodbye freedom and hello prison. She swallowed. “Then we have to destroy it.”
“Exactly. Should be easy enough. It’s just a six-hundred-year-old parchment. One flick of a lighter and it’s gone.”
“But Faris said if I don’t bring it to him, he’ll kill us both.”
“Yeah. I’m still working on that part.”
Once their sandwiches were gone, they dumped the wrappers in the next trashcan and turned back toward the main street.
“Another thing,” Xander mused aloud. “Faris gave you a week to find the scroll. It so happens that the bomb threat in London was in a week.”
“Not a coincidence,” Leila said. They stopped on the curb, just below a sign with arrows directing them to the various points of interest.
Xander pointed. “Tourist office, to the east.”
“What if he needs it?” Leila continued as they walked. “What if he wants to use it for whatever he’s planning? We could use it as bait. We could lure him into a trap with the scroll and make sure he gets locked away for the bombing.”
“Hold that thought.” Xander stopped at the glass door of a narrow building, a paper with ‘Tourist Information’ taped to the glass. He tugged at the door handle, but it didn’t budge. “Blast.”
Leila frowned. “We could ask at a hotel. Hotels would know the different scuba schools around here. We’re going to need somewhere to sleep, anyway.”
Xander nodded. “Maybe for a few hours. We can’t be in one spot for too long.”
“Might as well find a hotel first, then,” she said, stifling a yawn. “It’s as good a place to start as any.” The only problem was if they went to a hotel now, she’d go straight to sleep and not wake up for days.
Just focus on one step at a time. First, they needed to find Drake. Then, hopefully, get a few hours of sleep.
They started down the road, walking alongside the line of parked cars. As they passed a German bakery, Xander stopped and, to her surprise, walked inside.
Didn’t we just eat? Frowning, she followed him through the glass door. Xander stood at the counter, speaking to the salesman behind the mounds of rolls and pastries.
“Doesn’t have to be a resort, just somewhere quiet,” Xander was saying.
Ah, of course. Hotel recommendations. Leila shook her head. She really needed to go to bed. The only sleep she’d gotten in the last two days was whenever she managed to nod off on the bus.
The baker—a tall, skinny, blond man—disappeared for a moment, then returned with a handful of brochures.
“There will be something you like here. This one has a water park.” The baker set the first brochure on the counter. “This one is in the city center. It has a spa. And this one here is a bit different. It’s a Bedouin camp, and they offer desert tours. Very, very interesting. Everyone loves it. Or here is one with bungalows on the beach. It has the highest ratings.”
Leila stopped listening and picked up the brochure for the Bedouin camp, studying the picture on its front of a tent lit up by a bonfire under a starry sky. Her gaze skimmed the text beneath. Only accessible by SUV or camel. Homemade traditional Bedouin meals. Guided safari tours of the Sinai Desert. She shook her head. In another life, she would have been up for it. It reminded her of Abdullah and his sister Amina in a sad, regretful way.
Xander thanked the baker and they walked out into the dry evening heat.
“Right, let’s try the spa first,” he suggested as they made their way toward the city center.
“I don’t know… beach-front sounds nice right about now.”
“We’re supposed to be looking for your friend Drake, not relaxing on the beach.”
“I’d rather be on our honeymoon,” Leila grumbled, realizing too late she’d said it out loud. He wasn’t supposed to hear that.
Xander’s steps slowed. He must have heard her. For a fleeting moment, she wished he would stop, take her in his arms, and tell her once all of this was over, they would pick right back up where they’d left off. But then she remembered she had no idea who he was anymore. Thankfully, Xander resumed his pace.
Focus, Leila. You just need to find Drake.
They zigzagged their way into the city center. Countless restaurants and food vendors still offered every cuisine imaginable. All the necessary surf gear shops, convenience stores, and market stalls lined their path. Locating the first hotel on their list was easy enough.
It was a short walk down the main shopping street, and then a few yards down a well-kept pedestrian-only alley. They stood outside the entrance of the blue, polished marble-like pillars and ogee-shaped arches that made up the doorway.
Xander took the lead and strode inside. Between an array of potted palm trees and leafy plants, the lobby reeked of fruity perfumes and oils. The receptionist, dressed in an impeccable white suit, greeted them warmly. It didn’t take long for them to find out there were no vacancies.
On their way back out, Leila grabbed every scuba flier she saw displayed on a table next to the entrance. Worry clenched around her stomach.
Was she wrong to think Drake was talking about scuba diving? What if she was way off the mark and they were wasting their time?
