“Right.” The woman leaned forward, setting her elbows on the table. “Quick and painless?”
“That would be fine. But I want photographic proof.”
“No problem. You’ll have pictures by midnight tomorrow.”
He smiled, lips tight. If it weren’t for months of searching the darknet, long flights, and thousands withdrawn from his bank account, it was almost too easy.
“I have half of the payment with me.” He put his backpack on the table and pushed it toward her. “The rest you’ll receive once I’ve seen the photos.”
She opened the flap, nodded, closed it, and placed the bag on the seat beside her. “I’ll contact you as soon as the job is done.”
Eager to leave, he pushed his chair back and stood. He didn’t want to be seen with this woman longer than necessary. It was only at her insistence he’d agreed to meet in public. Without another glance, he strode to the door.
“One more thing,” the woman called.
He stopped and glared over his shoulder. She watched him from her seat, her eyes narrowed. Reluctantly, he trudged back to the table.
“What did she do wrong?”
His face grew hot. Why did his motives matter to her?
“That’s completely irrelevant,” he spat, fingernails digging into his moist palms.
“Tell me, or forget about it.”
His heart raced. She was ruining his perfect plan. He couldn’t take his money and walk away now. It had taken him a year of preparation to get this far.
“Why do you want to know? Are you the police?”
She crossed her arms. “This is how I do things.”
Jaw clenched, face burning, he snatched the bag from the chair. The woman’s eyes followed his movements, and he stopped. Now it made sense.
“One thousand on top if you stop asking questions.”
She drummed her fingers on her upper arm, turned her head, and gazed into the crowded room. After a moment, she refocused on him, her dark eyes blank. “Ten.”
He ran his tongue over his teeth. “Five.”
She leaned back in her chair, pensive. Then she shrugged. “All right.”
“Done. Another five. Pictures by midnight tomorrow.”
With a scowl, he shoved the bag into her arms and walked out of the teahouse. Once in the narrow street, he rolled his shoulders. It was done. He strode in the direction of a main road, his shoes clacking against the cobblestones. A closed-lip smile crept across his face. If everything went the way he’d planned, by tomorrow night, Leila Sterling would be dead.
CHAPTER 2
Glass shattered. The crash reverberated down the empty hall. Leila lifted her head, the chalice in her hands momentarily forgotten. Silence followed. She placed the artifact onto the plastic tray on her desk and stood, holding her breath. Tiptoeing, she peeled off her latex gloves and slunk past tables dotted with pottery shards and microscopes, to the door that opened into the dark, empty hallway.
It was hard to tell which room the noise had come from, but it sounded as if it had happened down the hall. Either from the excavation leader’s office or the classroom. As far as she knew, Professor Soliman had gone home at lunch time. Maybe he’d forgotten something and returned without her noticing.
Or what if it’s him? Leila grimaced, then shook the thought from her mind. It was almost laughable. Faris Al-Rashid wouldn’t come after her himself. But that didn’t mean she was safe. He could still send some thug to do the dirty work.
Her pulse accelerating, her gaze darted to the chair where her purse sat.
Grab the phone, turn on all the lights.
Leila chewed on her lower lip. If someone was trying to break in, she didn’t have anything to scare them off with if turning on the lights didn’t do the job. She surveyed the lab until her gaze fell on a fire extinguisher hanging on the wall next to the door. That would work.
She grabbed the red canister, slipped her phone from her bag, then peered into the dark hallway, studying the shadows in the corners. Empty.
Once she determined it was safe, she flipped the hallway light on and left the cover of the workroom. She crept down the corridor, listening for any other noises. A gentle hum of fluorescent lights came from the lab.
This is what I get for working late at the one place on the entire African continent too cheap to pay a security guard.
She stopped at a door midway down the hall, tucked her phone into her pocket, and dug out her keys. After finding the one she needed, she unlocked the door and eased it open. A strip of light fell across the stony face of an ancient Egyptian Queen, ceramic vases filling the shelves above and below the statue. She nudged the door all the way open, making sure nothing had fallen from a shelf and shattered. The pottery and alabaster statues all stood in place.
She closed and locked the door again, then resumed the walk to the end of the hall. Both doors were closed. Her churning stomach warned her to retreat to the lab.
“Professor Soliman?” she called, leaning one ear toward the door on the right. Silence greeted her. Dread hardened in her chest as she eyed the classroom door across the hall.
She took a step forward and wrapped her fingers around the rough metal handle. One. She drew in a deep breath, adjusting her grip on the fire extinguisher. Two…
A door slammed down the hall. With a yelp, Leila whirled around. The fire extinguisher hit the floor with a clang. Soliman shuffled down the hallway toward her, the overhead lights glinting off the top of his head.
“Masa’ al-khair,” he called, keys jingling as he walked. “I’ve forgotten my sketch maps.” He frowned at the red canister rolling on the floor. “Everything all right?”
“Good evening to you too, Professor.” Leila swallowed, her heart still running a marathon. “There’s something we need to check. I heard some glass breaking.”
