Agent of Influence: A Thriller (26 page)

She
made a right-hand turn onto Al-bustan Street and passed the Tahir Square. In the heart of downtown Cairo, the area around her was once swampland, but Khedive Ismail transformed it into the Paris-on-the Nile in the late 1800s. There were beautiful gardens, wide streets lined with trees, and even an opera house which provided the distinctly European feel he was trying to replicate in the North African city. A mass of tourists flooded the streets, and once again her journey came to a crawl. Ten frustrating minutes later she was past her final obstacle and pulling up to the heavily guarded compound of the American Embassy. She was technically on American soil once again. 

The whopping five minutes the A
mbassador took out of his day to meet with her turned out to be more of a lecture than a meeting. He preferred to spend the time making sure she understood she was not to cause a scene by upsetting any Egyptian officials.

“We’re
already on unsure footing around here thanks to President Gray and his unbridled use of the military,” the Ambassador vented. “I’m doing my best to repair our strained relations. I’m expecting you to be on your best behavior.”

“Of course
, Mr. Ambassador. Were you able to get me an appointment at the proper government ministry?” Anna pretended to take his lecture seriously.

“Yes. Your appointment is for ten a.m. tomorrow.  Please be sure to keep your inquiry quick. You may view birth records and any other pertinent information on the presidential candidate, but that is it,” he said like an instructor dealing with a particularly difficult student.

She stood silently while he lectured. Her relaxed features showed no signs of anger, but her eyes bore into him as she imagined the humor she would find in taking him to some of the areas of Cairo she knew well. Her stoic reaction, however, did not betray her thought. Anna continued to play the meek woman, “Don’t worry, Mr. Ambassador. I won’t be a problem.” A curt goodbye and she was out the door to catch a cab to her hotel. She had plenty of work to do, none of which she had any intention of informing the feckless bureaucrat of, before meeting with the Egyptian officials in the morning.

             
After signing some routine paperwork for the State Department she exited the building and stepped out of the gated safety of the American Embassy. Suitcase in hand, she walked like a rich child leaving the safety of the parent’s mansion. A block away a crazed sheik wandered aimlessly through the congestion of vehicles, shouting about the end of the world and pending triumph of Islam. A green string was wrapped around his finger. He was dragging a dusty American flag along the ground behind him. A few drivers shouted words of encouragement while several bystanders turned away from the spectacle. They were clearly ashamed, but unwilling to launch a protest, feeling it was not worth the problems it would surely cause. 

Anna
motioned to a Marine guard that she needed a ride. She decided to leave her car in the embassy parking lot for now. The guards standing on each side of the gated entrance raised their hands simultaneously. A taxi broke free from the congestion a block away, and rolled up to the front of the embassy. Five minutes later the taxi dropped her off a few blocks short of the Nile Hilton. Constructed in 1959, the Hilton was the first five-star hotel built in Cairo, and to this day it continues to draw a mass of visitors. In its heyday it served as the temporary residence of icons such as Frank Sinatra.

Now, however, it
served a less glamorous role as a launching pad for thousands of European and American tourists who came to tour the ancient city.  After depositing her small amount of luggage in her room, Anna made her way back to the hotel lobby, passing through its courtyard coffee shop where many of Cairo’s upper class enjoyed mingling and discussing the day’s events.  She stepped out into the sweltering heat of the midday sun and walked the short distance to the world-renowned Egyptian Museum, which sat conveniently next door to her hotel. The meeting with her contact was still an hour away, but she wanted to arrive early to check out the museum’s design and look for escape options if something happened to go awry.

Anna
had never dealt with Colin Archer before. She was told he had been in Cairo for ten plus years, and while she did not doubt his skills at gathering intelligence, he was still someone to avoid unless absolutely necessary. He could be under the watchful eye of any one of the numerous terrorist organizations that operated out of Cairo, and after such a long time in the same place she figured there was a strong chance that complacency had set in on his part. One can only stay on high alert for a certain period of time, no matter how dangerous the area. By now someone had surely fingered him as more than just a government bureaucrat.               

             
Anna stepped out of the oppressive heat and into the pleasant chill of the museum. The crowd waiting to get in was sparse, and after a few minutes she was shuffled through the poor excuse for security and passed through the grand rotunda that led into the museum. She meandered around the large central court of the first floor, taking in her surroundings as she made note of emergency exits and potential problem areas. The museum was not very large by American standards, and the entire first floor was an open court encircled by large sculptures from different Egyptian periods.  She made her way down the outskirts of the open corridor, pretending to soak in the chronicles of early Egyptian history that surrounded the central court.  She passed a limestone statue of King Djoser from the 27
th
century b.c., one of the oldest pieces in the museum. It had been discovered in 1924 next to the Step Pyramid in Saqqara. 

The Old Kingdom galleries led into the Middle Kingdom galleries, and on
to the New Kingdom of the eighteenth century dynasties.  She nonchalantly watched her fellow tourists, keeping an eye out for Colin, or anything that may appear out of place in the high-ceiled main gallery. Twenty minutes later and placated for the moment, she ascended the southeast staircase to the upper floor where she could view the entry point of the building from a safe distance.

Exactly forty minutes later, and on time to a tee, Colin Archer meandered into view at the front of the building. His eyes roamed the room as if he were a gawking tourist. He was
, in fact, checking to make sure no one had followed him. He caught sight of Anna eyeing him from the top floor, and they exchanged fleeting looks. After fifteen minutes of following the same path she had taken, they stood on the railing of the second floor together, peering out at a small group of American tourists huddled around the glass case in the center of the gallery below them.

             
“How was your trip?” Colin asked as they both continued watching the activity on the floor below.

“Long. Thanks for showing up on time,” Anna
said in a clipped and business-like manner.

“My ple
asure. You look even more gorgeous in person than in the photographs Sean sent me. You were easy to spot.”

              “I’m not sleeping with you, so no compliments. I have a job to do, and I understand you can be of some assistance.” She made sure her annoyance was obvious. She did not like playing games. “Besides, I don’t like paunchy, bald guys.”

Colin squirmed uneasily. Sean Hill wa
rned him that she could be abrasive. That was putting it mildly, he now realized.  “Sorry, just trying to break the ice. I understand you’re trying to do a little background check on the potential president. I can tell you right now the FBI asked me to look into it a few months earlier. I got a call when they starting doing workups on all the serious candidates in January. I couldn’t find anything useful though. As far as I can tell, all his family that lived here died some years back.”

             
“Well, we will see if I can do better. We have people working over some Egyptian government types. I should be able to view some records tomorrow if everything goes smoothly,” she said in a confident manner.

“They got you in already? Mr. Hill must have some pull in
Cairo. The politicians around here make our guys back home look like models of efficiency. You do realize you probably won’t find anything?” Colin said.

             
“I don’t have high hopes. That is why I’m talking to you. I understand you have some contacts that you think may be useful?” With the bad cop routine now over, Anna could get down to business.

“Follow me,” Colin said. Without waiting for her he made his way to the top of the staircase and bought two tickets for them to get into the Royal Mummy Room on the second floor.  Anna pulled her ba
ll cap further down on her head and walked briskly to catch up with him. She did not like being led around by the nose.

             
They walked in silence past the eleven embalmed royals whose final resting place was now the darkened room of a museum.  The bony remains of Seti I and his son Ramses II lay in silent repose in the Royal Mummy Room as the two American agents made their way through the deserted space.

“What are we doing in here?” Anna asked.

              “This part of the museum is the safest place to speak. The walls are specially designed to keep out moisture, and any other element that could hasten the demise of our predecessors.” He motioned to the encased bodies, keeping his voice hushed. “There are plenty of cameras, but no way to get any listening devices in here. It’s an ideal place for a meeting.  Being an American inside a museum for tourists helps, as well. One of the few places in Cairo where we don’t stand out.”

Anna looked at him with grudging respect
. “Good to see you thought things through. Now what do you have in mind? I have a few things to take care of back at the hotel. I’m assuming you have the meeting with your contact set up today?”

             
“He’ll meet us at 3:30. After mid-day prayers are completed he will be home and we can stop by his apartment. He lives in Islamic Cairo so you will have to dress appropriately,” Colin said.

“I figured as much. Should I cover myself?” Anna knew the area from her childhood. Islamic
Cairo was the heart of the original city, and many of the narrow alleys that made up the area were still reminiscent of medieval quarters. The area was home to ultra serious religious movements. Many of the hardcore terrorist groups that attracted so many of the poor had a huge presence in the area. Women were looked at with anything between mild disdain and outright hostility, and in order to avoid attention needed to dress modestly. Anna knew that because she resembled a local, it would be best to hide her features in order to avoid any unwanted confrontations. The excessive clothing also provided plenty of room to hide weapons on her body.

             
“Yes. Dress modestly, and like a local. Meet me on the second floor of your hotel. Room 200. I keep the room as an extra safety valve. It’s got all types of little odds and ends that come in handy sometimes. Meet me there at 3:00.” Colin disappeared through the same doorway they entered. Anna lingered for a few moments, taking in the splendor of the Tutankhamen galleries. After five more minutes she left to prepare for her meeting with Colin’s unknown contact.              

The narrow alleyway could not have been more than ten feet wide. Co
lin and Anna walked quickly across the stone floor at Khan al-Khalili, the expansive bazaar deep inside Islamic Cairo. Their footsteps echoed off the hard surfaces all around them.  The buildings on each side shot up at a steep angle, obscuring any chance of viewing the many domes and minarets that dotted this area of the city. They stepped aside as a teenager flew furiously past them on his bicycle. The alley was much too small for any other modes of transportation.

Anna observed Colin through the slit of
her burka. His tanned features and weather beaten face allowed him to blend into the crowd that filled the tiny streets around them. The late afternoon meant there were still tourists walking about, mixing with the locals. They were looking to bargain with the stream of merchants lingering around, inside, and through the entryways and windows of the buildings. Shouts and curses echoed back and forth, the noise amplified by the proximity of the buildings. Colin played the part of a dominant husband as he maneuvered Anna by the arm through the bustling marketplace.

They finally came to a stop in front of one of the few doors that was c
losed. It made the building appear deserted when compared to the raucous marketplace around it. A quick rap of the heavy door brought no reaction. Anna fidgeted, glancing through the eye slits of her disguise at the fortress of buildings enclosing them. The alleyway came to a dead end a few hundred yards away. She felt trapped. Anna put her right hand inside the burka and let it rest near her pistol so she could act quickly if it became necessary. The door finally creaked open, and a youthful eye appeared in the crack of the door, fluttering back and forth between them. The sound of heavy bolts could be heard being pulled back, and the massive door was slowly pulled open.

The young man could not have been more than twenty years old
, and the Kalashnikov rifle that his fingers were wrapped around seemed too heavy for his rail thin body. The boyish face possessed a steely look that radiated inner strength, and his eyes silently acknowledged Colin. The boy continued pulling the door until the opening was just wide enough to let them inside. He then threw his full weight into it, slamming it shut as if he was trying to keep a medieval plague from entering the dark and dingy abode.