The Pilate Scroll Read online

  She dried her face and hands and hurried back into the living room. She needed to call the police but not until she gathered Samuel’s computer and cell phone—in case the police confiscated them for evidence. Their mission was classified. The last thing the team needed was their data in the hands of local police.

  The laptop had a flash drive inserted in the USB port. She pulled it out and stuck it in her pocket. Slipping through Samuel’s broken door, she scurried down the hall to her room, opened the door, and stepped inside.

  Brian was on the couch, tinkering with his drone. The television was on, but he wasn’t watching.

  He looked up as Kadie slipped inside. “Hey—is that computer fow me?”

  “No, it’s Samuel’s. I’m borrowing it for a while.” She didn’t have the heart or the time to explain what happened to him yet. She was still trying to figure out what to do. Setting the computer and his phone on the desk, she tugged on the window and ensured it was locked. If the killer had come through Samuel’s window, there was no reason he couldn’t come through hers.

  “I’m going back to Samuel’s room,” she said as she trotted to the door. Her eyes seeped, and she wiped them with the back of her hand. “Lock the chain behind me and don’t open it for anyone but me. Don’t even answer it. Okay?”

  Brian’s head tilted. “Okay. What is wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just worried about you.”

  “I am okay—but something is wrong. I can tell.”

  Kadie opened the door and peered into the empty hallway. “I’ll tell you when I get back. Lock the door behind me, okay?”

  Brian nodded and rose from the couch, his drone clutched in his left hand. When she shut the door, she stayed until she heard him lock the chain from the inside. It provided little protection—she had just proved that herself—but it made her feel better. She turned and raced back to Samuel’s room.

  Inside, the scene hadn’t changed. Bending down, she rechecked Samuel, sure that hadn’t changed either. He was still dead. Kadie found the phone on a small table by the door and dialed the front desk. She explained there had been a murder and to please send the police to room 212. The clerk didn’t understand her the first time, and she had to repeat it. Shocked, the clerk said he’d call the police right away.

  Kadie sobbed as she hung up the phone. She spun back toward Samuel and gasped as the Middle-Eastern killer crawled through the window again. Tall and filled out, he still had the keffiyeh covering everything on his face but his eyes. Her mind took in as many details as possible when the man’s arm shot out like lightning. She retreated until her back butted against the wall.

  Something glittery and shiny flew through the air.

  Everything moved in a dreamlike state until . . .

  THUNK!

  The shiny object struck the wall inches from her ear. Her head rolled to the right. A thin-handled silver throwing knife with a wide blade and a stylish, engraved logo remained embedded in the doorframe. The shape reminded her of a fish.

  She looked back toward the killer, who pulled another knife from his sleeve. Kadie grabbed the door handle, flung it open, and raced out of the room, slamming the door behind her as a second blade pierced the door. She darted past the tiny clerk creeping toward Samuel’s room. The man swiveled to speak to her as the killer burst through the door and crashed into him.

  Kadie dashed away as the two men tumbled to the floor. At the top of the staircase, she found an overweight Middle Eastern man halfway up the stairs struggling with an oversized suitcase in each hand. Down the hallway, the killer climbed back on his feet and rushed toward her. Kadie started down the stairs a few steps, then hopped on the sturdy mahogany banister and slid down the rail to the first floor.

  The man on the staircase seemed both annoyed and amused as he watched her glide down. When he turned back, the Middle-Eastern killer plowed into him, and the two tumbled down the staircase to the bottom step. The long shirttail of the Kurta rode high, and she noticed the belt around the black pants for the first time.

  Kadie searched the lobby for more threats. None in sight.

  I’ve got to lead him away from Brian, just in case.

  Without a second thought, she bounced out the front door and into the shadowy streets. Once outside, two more men with keffiyehs hiding their faces pointed at her. She ran the opposite direction, away from the water and toward the small nighttime market she had left only minutes before. Glancing over her shoulder, the killer from Samuel’s room was right on her tail.

  It had been three years since she had been a star on the Princeton women’s volleyball team, but she was still in shape. She easily outran the killer, her chestnut-brown hair flowing in the wind, and weaved through the market’s crowd once she reached it. Two small boys occupied the middle of the street selling something, and she leaped over their display at the last second. Landing on the balls of her feet, she glanced behind her; she didn’t see anyone following her as she accelerated forward.

  Finally, she thought, I’ve ditched these guys. Need to find the po—

  She slammed into a vendor’s cart as he pulled it across the street, and she fell to the old stone roadway. The cart, filled with Mediterranean fruits and vegetables, wobbled on its rickety wheels. The vendor, a weathered man wearing blue jeans and a green and white athletic jacket, was stunned, though angry words in Arabic soon followed.

  Didn’t see that coming. Kadie shook her head and felt for injuries. No sooner had she pushed herself off the ground than Samuel’s killer was upon her. The man had a jambiya in his hand, its curved blade glinting in the early evening streetlight. He reached her as she turned to run, thrusting the knife toward her as she took her first step. She backed up against the cart she had run into; the vendor continued cursing her in Arabic. When the vendor saw the jambiya, he stopped berating her and retreated to the other side of the cart.

  Kadie dodged to the right at the last second, and the jambiya lodged into the wood siding. She ripped a heavy iron pan free and swung it at the attacker. When the dense pan slammed into his head, he crumpled to the ground.

  The vendor sidled around the cart and yelled at her again, pointing to the attacker on the ground.

  “Sorry,” she said, handing him the pan. Glancing back up the street, she quickly realized the other two had found her.

  Worse than that, they had her trapped. Each man hurried to load a crossbow, guaranteeing she could never outrun them.

  Of course, they have crossbows.

  The cart and its dislodged contents cut off any easy escape. Once the bolts locked in place, the two men raised their weapons and fired simultaneously. Kadie dropped to the ground, pounding her elbow on the bricked street. The bolts screamed by at incredible speed, splitting the wood on the cart behind her.

  Rolling on the soiled cobbled surface underneath the cart, Kadie rose on the other side and sprinted down the street. She found an unlit alley and ducked in. Peering through the shadows, she had to make a decision—leave the market or find a way to blend in.

  The decision was an easy one. Kadie could never blend in; even if she threw a hijab over her head, her Western-style clothes and boots would identify her immediately. Her feet slid side to side, as she edged along the wall, keeping an eye out for her assailants.

  Something rubbed her hair, and she brushed her hand to push it away. She twirled to the right, and the faint netting increased in both density and resistance.

  Spiderweb!

  “Eeeeeaaaahhh!”

  Her arms flailed, peeling away the wispy cobweb from her hair and face. From a distance, it might appear she was dancing, but this was no dance. Kadie hated spiders. She had even refused to watch any of the Spider-Man movies, from Toby Maguire through Tom Holland.

  When the cobweb finally wiped away, she checked the entrance of the alley. Her two assailants blocked her only way out.

  Way to go, Kadie. Screaming like a little girl is going to get you killed.

  Kadie
twirled and bolted down the dark alley, figuring it was better to run into the darkness than stay exposed in the light. She used the blackness creeping over the alley to her advantage. She veered left at the end and slipped into an alley between two small buildings. The alley expanded into a clearing and she screeched to a halt.

  It was a dead end.

  Her head swiveled in all directions and her breathing was heavy. Sweat dripped down her face and her shirt clung to her back. A small stable sat behind one of the buildings, and across from that, stacks of pottery and tools. She wedged herself between a stack of pots, praying she could hide as the two assailants ran into the alley. Pulling her scrunchy off her wrist, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Despite no breeze, the change made her feel more comfortable. She then lifted an over-sized ceramic saucer to hide her face, hoping the object would break up her profile.

  Peeking around the edge of the saucer, the two men chasing her meandered across the street. Their heads swiveled in both directions, then strode down the street toward her.

  Across the clearing from her, a small, covered stall held a donkey, who ate from a tiny trough of hay. The two men stopped there, searching around the stall. They continued down the along that side of the clearing, looking at every conceivable hiding place, when the unthinkable happened.

  TING!

  The phone in her cargo pants lit up with a text message.

  Brian.

  There was no reason to check the phone. When she peeked around the ceramic saucer, the two men taunted her as they reached for new bolts to load their crossbows.

  3

  Port Said, Egypt

  The streets of Port Said

  * * *

  Kadie’s heart raced. The two attackers pulled the strings back on their crossbows so they could load their bolts.

  She hurled the ceramic saucer at the two men. They ducked the projectile and snickered. But the saucer smacked the donkey in the head, which then did what donkeys do—it kicked backward at the perceived threat. The kick dislodged the vertical pole that propped up the overhang above the stall. The residents of this house must have used the overhang for a storage area because everything crashed down on the two men.

  Kadie didn’t wait around to see if they were okay. She spun and sprinted back down the alleyway, then turned toward what she believed to be the direction back to the hotel. She ran for several blocks and when she rounded a corner, she skidded to a stop once again.

  The murderer she slugged over the head with the heavy pan was back.

  Who is this guy? Michael Myers?

  The Halloween reference wasn’t far off. This guy wanted to kill her and wasn’t going to stop.

  She pivoted to her left and sprinted toward another house, this one surrounded by a small wall. With the grace of a cat, she swung her legs over the stonework and raced across the dark yard, weaving around several carts and tools left overnight in the dust. She cleared the wall on the other side as easily as the first and found herself in a larger compound.

  The killer trailed not far behind, and she approached another wall in front of her, this one much higher, at least eight feet tall. Four feet from the wall, she leaped forward, planted her right foot in the center, and grasped the top with both hands. Her feet bicycled up the wall, slipping as she did so. Eventually, she managed to get high enough to get her elbow on the ledge, the push up to her waist. As she swung her right leg over, the killer grabbed her dangling left foot. She shook her foot violently, attempting to break free, but he held on, even tightening his grip. Shifting her weight, she checked her side of the wall— nothing but dirt below.

  Kadie used her body weight and leaned toward her side of the wall. Gravity took over, and the assassin lost his grip on her foot, unable to stop her as she fell to the other side. Her foot hit first, and she twisted her body, using her thigh and backside to absorb the impact.

  She felt a slight twinge in her left knee; rolling to her side, she rose slowly, checking for any other injuries. Her shoulder also ached from the fall, but otherwise she seemed unscathed. She heard a noise and looked up to see several goats clamoring to their feet and hurrying to the other side of the compound.

  After wiping away her sweaty bangs from the front of her face, she peered through the dust that stung her eyes. Across the courtyard stood a two-story house. That was unusual around here. Whoever owned this property had money. Kadie took a step and discovered the twinge in her knee was a little more than that. She hobbled toward the home when the killer reached the top of the wall.

  Doesn’t this guy ever quit?

  Her breath came in large gasps; she couldn’t do this forever. Across the yard, she discovered a small ladder leaning against the house, which gave her an idea. Kadie limped to the ladder as the killer landed on the ground behind her.

  Fear gave her a second wind. Kadie climbed the ladder, her knee aching with every push. The delay let the killer catch up with her. He grabbed for her foot again, but Kadie, having no other choice, leaped to the roof and spun around, gritting through the pain to kick him in the face. The impact sent him off the ladder, sailing toward the ground below.

  Kadie dragged the ladder to the roof so he couldn’t climb after her. Tossing it aside, she noticed a ladder to the second floor. She scaled this one as well, pulling it up behind her. The Middle-Eastern killer moved to the middle of the courtyard as light spilled out of the house. Angry Arabic voices emitted from the courtyard below, ending only when her assailant sprinted across the compound and escaped into the night.

  With her fingers locked behind her head, Kadie tried to slow her breathing. Three people in the courtyard pointed in her direction. She rubbed her scraped elbow, wiping away the dirt and grime while they argued back and forth for several minutes. In the distance, blue lights flashed on the horizon, growing brighter as they moved closer. Eventually, sirens accompanied them. The owner of the home must have notified the police. Kadie slid her cell phone out of her pocket and called Brian.

  “Where are you, Kadie?”

  “I’m a few blocks away.” Her free hand brushed the matted hair from her eyes.

  “When are you coming back?”

  Kadie bit her bottom lip as two police cars stopped outside the compound fifty yards away.

  “I’m not sure, Brian. Maybe thirty minutes. Whatever you do, don’t answer the door for anyone.”

  The owner reached the gate and rattled on incessantly to the police, then pointed toward her. One of the policemen used a handheld spotlight to illuminate her on the roof. Kadie waved a subtle wave waist high.

  “On second thought, I may be a few hours.”

  4

  Port Said, Egypt

  Resta Port Said Hotel

  * * *

  It took almost three hours for the police to release Kadie. Unfortunately, their English was about as effective as her Arabic. Two of those hours entailed finding an English interpreter, apparently not an easy task at this time of night. They had taken her to the Port Police Station next to the water, a vast white three-story building with a white cement tower extending another fifty or sixty feet. In the darkness, it reminded her of the Aloha Tower in Honolulu she saw on her high school senior trip, minus the clock. Initially, she was interrogated as if she were a thief, attempting to break into a family’s home. As her story unfolded, the owner of the house she had climbed on was forgiving of her intrusion. Once she told her story, the owner confirmed that he did see a man running from his compound. The police were surprised when Kadie divulged the story of Samuel’s murder at the hotel. She sobbed as she recounted the story. By this time, the police were very familiar with the crime. It wasn’t every day a tourist was killed at one of the more posh hotels in Port Said. After a phone call to the U.S. Embassy, all charges against her were dropped. When they finished, one of the officers gave her a ride back to the hotel, which had police swarming everywhere.

  When she entered the lobby, she had to go to the front desk to verify her identity.<
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  “Dis is her!” the clerk said.

  Kadie cracked a faint smile. “Yes, it’s me.”

  The officer at the desk glared at her. “Missus, you are de one to call dis in?” His broken English wasn’t too much of a distraction. He was much better than the interpreter at the station.

  “Yes, I saw the man who did this.” Kadie explained what happened, her hands whirling about as she weaved her tale. The officer marched her upstairs to Samuel’s room, the second floor filled with activity. Samuel’s body was gone, replaced by police officers standing around talking to each other. Kadie walked them through the series of events, even explaining the two knives still embedded in the wall and door. Her stomach turned as the police removed the knives and placed them in a plastic bag. The knife in the door protruded all the way through. No doubt it would have shattered the front of her skull and left her body next to Samuel’s.

  Kadie went on to describe the chase through the market and her eventual arrest. The officer called the station to confirm her story. While he was on the phone, a familiar voice carried down the hallway. She stole a glance outside.

  “Curt!” Kadie rushed down the hall, bursting past the two policemen who stopped him, and wrapped her arms around the neck of the six-foot-tall GDI security man.

  “It’s okay,” Curt said to the police in Arabic. “She’s with me.” Curt was one of the two team members who spoke the native language. Unfortunately, Samuel was the other.

  “Are you okay?” he said with a toothy smile, squeezing her hard.

  “I’m fine.” Kadie pushed away as if suddenly aware of her actions. After what she’d experienced, seeing a familiar face was overwhelming. She glanced at him and gasped. “What happened?” A small cut in the middle of his forehead dripped blood.

  Curt grinned. “Well, I texted you I’d be late for dinner because I was still here taking care of some security issues.” He pointed to Samuel’s room. “Clearly, we still have a problem. Anyway, I ran after the guy who chased you out of Samuel’s room, but another guy slammed me into the wall. We struggled for a couple of minutes. He got away, and I got this.”