Sea, Air, Land, and Lots of Sand! by Trisha

James Curran walked out of the comparative cool of the Cairo Museum into the sweltering heat of the city itself. He had spent the last couple of hours perusing the antiquities housed within the grand looking building, and to be honest, he was feeling all cultured out for the time being. He thought the others might at least have taken a passing interest in joining him; after all, why come to Egypt on vacation if you didn't intend to see the sights?

So far, though, the only sights they had seen consisted of the hotel, a couple of bars, and a haze of nightclubs. He had made the effort this morning, despite the fact that he was nursing a colossal hangover himself, and thought that Leary might have joined him, but the big man had apologised, insisting he had to sleep it off. His roommate Ramos had only managed a groan. Hawkins, Curran's own roommate had simply hurled abuse at him, so in the end he had come here alone.

At least the view was enjoyable. He focused on the girl who had walked out of the museum in front of him. He only had a back view, but it was a pleasant one. She was tall and leggy, nicely tanned, wearing a pair of stone-coloured pants, and a sleeveless white blouse. Her blonde hair was caught up into a thick plait, but strands of it were escaping all over the place. A large, well-stuffed, khaki bag was hung from her shoulder, and she looked to be carrying a mass of books and papers.

He followed her down to the busy street where he knew he could find a taxi that would take him back to his hotel. He was just about to catch up with her, and hopefully get a view of her face, when she stepped out into the road. Even Curran had thought it clear, until the steel blue car came out of nowhere, screeching towards her, she was oblivious!

He flung himself at the girl, knocking her out of the way of the oncoming car, rolling over to protect her. The car missed them by scant inches.

He looked down at the girl pinned beneath him, who was struggling to catch her breath.

"Are you all right?" he asked her.

Large, dark green eyes stared up at him. "Yes, thank you. Please, could you get off?"

He rolled off her and got to his feet. The girl sat up, but didn't seem to notice his hand, outstretched to pull her up. Instead she began gathering up her things that were scattered all over the road. Curran crouched down beside her, and helped her pick up her books and papers, together with the various things that had spilled out of her bag. As they did so, the traffic drove around them, irate drivers furiously honking their horns.

He was grateful to finally get off the road.

The girl was dusty and a little dirty, with a tear in the knee of her trousers.

"Are you okay!" he asked her. "Were you hurt?"

"No, erm," she blushed. "Just a little winded, I think." She had a clear British accent. "Did you pick up my glasses?" she asked him.

"Here." Her arms were full once again, and so he put the glasses on for her. "You're lucky they weren't broken."

"Yes." The glasses slipped down to the end of her nose. "Thank you for doing that, for helping me. It was very kind."

She was clearly tongue-tied, not knowing what to say, but she didn't seem too badly shaken up.

"Can you manage, or do you need some help getting somewhere?"

She gave him a shy smile. "You've been very kind. I'll be fine though, I can manage."

"You're sure?"

She nodded once again. "Certain, thank you. I -- erm -- better be on my way."

"Be careful," he told her. He watched her walk off down the road and then hailed a cab.

He was halfway back to his own hotel when he realized he was still clutching something of hers in his hand. Her wallet. He opened it up and searched through it. There was a little money, about two hundred Egyptian pounds, a British driving license. He looked at the name on it: Charlotte Standen. There was something else, some kind of pass for the museum. An address in Arabic was written on it beneath her name.

Curran tapped the driver on the shoulder and showed him the address on the pass.

"Do you know where that is? Can we go there instead?"

The driver nodded. "I will take you."

Charlie walked wearily up the steep steps to her first floor apartment. She was tired from her long walk in the baking heat, and her body ached from her close encounter with the car, and the blond American. She gave a little smile. He had seemed rather nice. She ought to have made a better effort to thank him, he'd probably saved her life. She should have taken him for a drink or something, anything except stammer on at him the way she had.

She fished in the pocket of her trousers and pulled out her door key.

The apartment was dreadfully hot, despite the fact that she had left the windows open, and the wooden shutters closed. She put her things down on the desk and then half opened the shutters. She went over to the so-called air conditioning unit, turning it on. Nothing happened. She gave it a practiced hit with her fist, just slightly left of center, and was rewarded by the sound of the extremely noisy fan whirring into action.

Her two-room apartment was not in what you would call the best part of the city, though she preferred the older area, at least it had character. She laughed to herself, her mother would die if she saw just how much character this place had, not to mention the less-than-desirable wildlife. She shuddered. Her hard-won advance didn't leave her with very much money for luxuries, and she was determined to cope, prove herself, no matter what the obstacles.

She went over to her makeshift desk that in reality was her small dining table, and turned on her lamp. It came on, started to flicker, and then went off altogether. It was followed by the air conditioner, which seemed to give a metallic groan of protest before going silent.

Damn, why didn't anything work properly in this place?

There was a knock on the door.

She opened it to find the blond American stood there. He smiled at her a little guiltily.

"I was halfway back to my hotel when I realized I still had this in my hand." He held up her wallet. "I had the taxi driver bring me straight here. I'm sorry."

She took the wallet from him. She hadn't even realized it was missing.

"Thank you," she told him again. "How did you find me?"

"You have some kind of museum pass."

"Oh, yes, of course. I only just got back myself. Would you like to come in, I was just about to make some coffee?" She lied.

"Coffee would be good," he told her. "Thanks."

He followed her inside.

"I'm afraid it's not much of a place," she explained. "Funds are a little tight." She turned and smiled at him and then wished she hadn't. He was so good-looking. He had blond hair that was neatly cut, and parted over his left eye. A soft-looking fringe touched his forehead. She had expected his eyes to be blue, but they were a hazel green, and they were smiling right back into hers.

"I'll make that coffee," she told him, turning quickly so he would not see the blush that she could feel burning up into her cheeks. "Make yourself comfortable."

She went into her little curtained-off kitchen area, eager to get away from that gaze of his. She could hear him moving around.

"How long have you been here?" he asked her.

"Just over two months." It was easier for her to talk to him if she couldn't see him. "I should be here about six months altogether."

"Are you working at the museum?"

"Well, in a way. I spend a lot of time there. I've been commissioned to write a book on Howard Carter."

"He's the guy that discovered King Tut's tomb, right?"

She laughed. "That's right."

"Nice to know that my two hours in the museum this morning weren't a total waste of time." He had a soft voice with a sort of sing-song quality to it, and his own laugh was almost a chuckle.

Charlie put the coffee in the pot. "Are you here on holiday?"

"Yea, I came with three friends. They're back at the hotel recovering from last night."

Why wasn't the water heating up?

"What did you do last night?" she asked him.

"To be honest, a lot of it's a little blurred. I think we finished up at some club called "The Mummy's Curse." Do you know it?"

"I can't say I do," she confessed.

Her electric stove wasn't working. She tried the light switch. Neither was that. No electricity. The only other thing she had to offer him was bottled water. Oh shit!

She went back out, reluctantly, to face him.

"I don't seem to have any electricity," she told a spot somewhere in the center of his white shirt. "It happens pretty regularly, I'm afraid. I can't make you any coffee. I'm sorry." She could have crawled under the table and died. "I just have some bottles of water."

"How about I take you for a drink instead? Is there a cafe or a bar around here?"

He was helping her again.

"That doesn't seem fair, after all you've done. There's a cafe a couple of streets away," she looked up at him. "But I buy the drinks."

He nodded. "You can tell me about Howard Carter."

"Are you interested?" she asked him, picking up her bag from the table and putting her wallet in it.

"Sure, a little knowledge never hurt anyone."

She was shy, Curran realised, almost painfully so.

"We haven't been introduced really," she told him as she sipped on her cup of strong Egyptian coffee. "I'm,.."

"Charlotte Standen. It was in your wallet," he told her, by way of explanation. "My name's James Curran."

She held out her hand to him and he took it, surprised at how small it was.

"It's nice to meet you," she smiled. "What do you do, James, when you're not on holiday?"

"I'm a lieutenant in the US Navy." He studied her face, behind the unflattering glasses. She was really very attractive, but he doubted that she realised. Her face was pretty, a small nose, sweet mouth, a scattering of freckles, and those big beautiful green eyes that were so filled with life. She had a figure that was movie star attractive, but she hid it beneath clothes that didn't really do her justice.

"You must travel quite a lot then?"

He laughed. "We get around. What about you?"

"Well, this is my first major trip, really. Hopefully if the book is a success, there will be others."

"What are you, an Egyptologist?"

"No, really I'm an archaeologist. I'm doing this because I couldn't get a field trip doing what I really want to do."

"Dig?"

She looked up into his eyes, something she did quite rarely. "Yes, that's right."

"Like Howard Carter?"

"I wish. That's everyone's dream, isn't it, to find something so amazing. Did you see the Tutankhamun exhibition on the upper floor?"

"I saw some of it -- it's pretty crowded up there." That was an understatement.

"Well, it's the thing everyone comes to see. I sometimes work quite late at the museum. It's nice to be able to look around when all the people have left. You know there are things in the museum that haven't changed since Carter's time, the older exhibits, even some of the labeling."

"The mummy's not there, though, is it?"

"No, he's still in the Valley of the Kings, the only mummy in the Valley that we know of."

"Could there be others?"

She nodded. "It's more than possible, and there's a lot of speculation. Have you been there yet?"

"No," he confessed. "We haven't been anywhere yet."

"Well, the museum was a good choice for a first visit. Lucky for me, too, I think."

They talked for about an hour. She couldn't do small talk he realised, but once he got her talking about her work, and the things related to it, she was more relaxed, and the eyes would occasionally wander up to his. He had been surprised to find her staying in such an awful area of the city, but she explained that she had very limited funds that she had to make stretch as far as she could. He found himself liking her very much. She was different to the women he usually came across. Very different from Claire Verens.

He had been in love with her, and he had thought that she loved him, even in the hospital when he returned wounded from Beirut. But she had only visited him twice, and the second time had been to tell him that she had an assignment in Paris and would have to leave. There had been one postcard from Paris, and then that was it. Three months later, he had read about her engagement to a French industrialist in one of the papers.

"I ought to get back," she told him quietly. "I have some work it's important that I finish. I hope you don't mind?"

"No, not at all. It would be nice if we could get together again, though, before I leave. Maybe we could have dinner?"

"Dinner? Erm -- I think...I think that would be nice." She didn't look too certain, though.

"Good," he smiled at her. "Come on. I'll walk you back to your apartment."

"You don't have to, really."

"It's no problem. Then you can write down your address for me and we can arrange a night to go out," he told her.

"You're really serious, aren't you?" she asked him as she picked up her bag from the back of the chair.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She blushed. "I don't know, I just thought...never mind."

They set off walking back to her apartment and she was silent, lost in her own thoughts.

"Charlotte." She looked up when he said her name. "You will come to dinner with me, won't you?"

She nodded. "Yes, I said I would. It's very kind of you."

"No, no it's not," he insisted. He grabbed her shoulder and turned her around to face him. He cupped her chin gently in his hand, forcing her to look into his face. "Kindness has nothing to do with it. You're attractive and I like you, and I'd like to see you again." Damn it, he hoped he hadn't gone too far and frightened her off.

"It's Charlie," she told him. "My friends call me Charlie." She smiled right into his eyes. "And yes, I do want to come to dinner with you."

"Good. I'm glad we got that settled." He was almost tempted to kiss her, but he didn't want to push his luck.

They carried on walking back to the apartment. He saw as she walked up the steep stairs that she was limping a little.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"I ache a bit. I think I might have a few bumps and bruises from earlier. I don't...." her voice trailed off suddenly. She was looking at her door, he realised.

Curran moved in front of her and peered at the door to her apartment. Someone had forced the lock, leaving the wood splintered and broken. He put his finger over his lips in a signal to her to be quiet, and slowly pushed open the door.

"Stay here," he whispered to her.

He moved cautiously inside. The room appeared empty, and there was no noise. He moved aside the little curtain to the kitchen area, and then moved to the door to the other room. It stood open, and he went inside. No one was there, or in the little toilet and shower room. Whoever had broken in here was gone, but they had left an awful mess.

He went back to Charlie. "There's no one here now. It's all right."

He took her hand and led her inside. Someone had searched the room, and they had done a thorough and messy job of it.

"Oh god, look at it!"

The place was a wreck.

"You need to look around. If you can, see if anything's missing. Money, passport, that kind of thing."

"I keep those in my bag all the time." Tears stood out in her eyes.

"What could they have taken?"

"I had a radio, a couple of pieces of electrical equipment in the bedroom."

"Let's take a look."

The radio hadn't been taken, but it had been smashed. Her clothes had been flung out of the cupboard, everything emptied out, but nothing appeared to have been taken. It was the other room though that upset her the most. The papers, everything she had been working on, was scattered all over the floor, her typewriter was smashed beyond repair.

"There's nothing missing that I know of. It's just such a mess, everything's just wrecked. Why would they do this?"

"It looks like they were searching for something," he told her.

"What? I don't have anything."

"Passport jewelry, money, anything that might be of value."

"I don't know what to do."

"Collect your things together. You can't stay here. Who's your landlord?"

"Mrs. Tariq, she lives downstairs."

"Does she speak English?"

"Yes, yes, very well."

"Did you give her some kind of bond when you moved in here?"

"Four hundred Egyptian pounds. I pay her fifty-two a week in rental."

"Four hundred!" he couldn't believe it. "Let me go and have a word with her."

Mrs. Tariq did not want the police involved. She was hoping for some compensation -- a considerable amount of compensation -- from the English girl for her furniture. But Curran insisted that the bond she had already handed over was more than adequate, and if she wanted anymore then perhaps they ought to call the police. The woman had reluctantly demurred.

He helped Charlie gather together her things, packing them up into her bags. She really didn't have very much, and the only thing she was really worried about was her work. Nothing was missing though. Iit was all just in a bit of a mess, but between the two of them, they got it all together.

"Mrs. Tariq has rung for a cab for us," he told her. "It'll be here in a minute, so we'd better get your things downstairs."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, you can't stay here tonight. You can come back to my hotel. We'll get you a room, and then you can look for somewhere else to stay tomorrow."

"Are you sure? I mean, you've been so kind, gone to so much trouble. I'm so sorry, I really don't know what to say to you."

"I'm sure," he gave her a gentle smile. "Now come on, lets get away from here."

It hadn't been easy for Curran to convince Charlotte Standen to accept the hotel room from him, but she had finally acquiesced. The room next to the one he shared with Hawkins had been vacant, so he had booked her in there. What she didn't know was that he had paid for the room for two weeks for her, not just one night. That was a bridge he would cross with her tomorrow, not today. It was clear that she was upset and exhausted, and she admitted to him that she was aching from head to foot. He had taken her to her room, seen to it that she had everything she wanted, and left her looking longingly at the shower. He had told her to relax for the afternoon, and arranged to see her later for dinner.

His own room when he returned to it, was empty. There was a note on his bed in Hawkins' bold script, it read "Checking Out the Pool!".

Curran showered and changed into shorts and T-shirt before going down to reception. The smart, blue uniformed, young receptionist was the same one he had dealt with earlier, when he had checked Charlie into the hotel. She was petite, pretty, and pleasant, greeting him with a broad smile.

"Mr. Curran, can I help you with something?"

"I think so. I'd like to send Miss Standen something."

"Certainly sir. What would you like to send her?"

"Well, that's just it," he shrugged. "I don't know. She's had a really bad day. Maybe some flowers?"

She nodded. "Flowers would be nice."

"Roses?"

She screwed up her nose a little. "Maybe roses say more than she wants to hear, if she's feeling a little emotional."

"Overkill huh?"

She nodded. "How about some scented lilies?"

"Would they do the trick?" he asked her.

"If flowers are the way you want to go then they're just the thing."

"The way I want to go? Do you have a better suggestion?"

"We..ll, most women, particularly when they're feeling a little low, they like chocolate."

"Chocolate?" He thought about it.

"I know, what about a small casket of chocolates and the flowers?"

"Do you think that would be good?"

"I think they would make her feel thought about, how's that?" She raised her eyebrows.

He smiled. "That's pretty much what I was aiming for, thanks."

"Then I'll put them on your bill."

She handed him the florists card, and he simply wrote "from James", and sealed it in the little envelope.

"I'll have those sent up to Miss Standens room as soon as possible," the receptionist told him.

He nodded and smiled at her. "Thank you."

He went out to the pool and found Hawkins, Leary, and Ramos sat at the bar. Not even Hawkins was drinking alcohol, all three men had soft drinks. Curran ordered a coke for himself before joining them.

"Hey."

"Hey boss, we thought we'd lost you."

"Have you been in the museum all this time?" Leary asked him.

"The way he looked this morning, they probably tried to keep him in as an exhibit!"

"Speak for yourself hotshot. As it happens I had a very interesting morning."

"Yea, he went to see his mummy!" Ramos joked.

All three men groaned, and Leary pushed his friend off the bar stool he was perched on.

"So what have you been up to?" Hawkins asked him.

"Well, I went to the museum like I planned, took a look around. Coming out I saw this girl..."

"Oh dear god, the man's in love!"

"Will you shut up and listen," he told Hawkins. "I followed her down to the road where I could hail a cab to come back here. When the girl tried to cross this car came speeding out of nowhere. I managed to get her out of the way, but even so it just missed us. It sped off around the corner before I could get a number or a decent look at it. The only thing I remember is the color, a kind of steel blue."

"Do you think it was deliberate?" Leary asked him.

"Well, I didn't at the time, but I'm not so sure now. I helped her pick up her things, and we went out separate ways. I was halfway back here when I realised I still had her wallet. It had her address in, so I went to give it back."

"The girls Egyptian?" Ramos asked him.

"No, she's English actually. She's working here."

"So what happened?" Hawkins cut in.

"I went to her apartment and we ended up going to a cafe nearby for a drink and a chat. Afterwards I walked her back. Someone had broken in and the place had been searched, professionally searched. Nothing had been taken, not that she had any valuables. The whole place was trashed."

"Did you call the police?"

"No. The landlady didn't want it, and I don't think it would have done Charlie any good."

"Charlie?" Leary asked.

"Charlotte, that's her name."

"So what have you done with Charlie?" Hawkins asked him.

"She's in the room next to ours."

"Interesting. Do you think she's hiding something?"

"No, not a chance. I don't even think she realizes that the close call this morning might not have been an accident, and I don't want any of you to mention it. She's tired, upset, and pretty shook up. She took a bit of a knock this morning too, she says she's aching a little."

"Does she need to see a doctor do you think?" Leary asked him.

"I don't think so, see how she feels later." Curran took a drink of his coke. "I want you guys to take it easy when you meet her," he looked pointedly at Hawkins. "She's an archaeologist, but at the moment she's here working on a book, living on a small advance. She's already been ripped off by the landlord of the dive she was living in. I told her she could stay here tonight, and I'd help her find somewhere else tomorrow."

"That's what you told her, what did you really do?" Hawkins raised a dark eyebrow.

"The room's paid for for the next two weeks."

His friend nodded. "You're a soft touch Curran. Or is there something you're not telling us?"

"Such as?"

"Such as she's a babe and you've got the hots for her?"

"Fuck off, Hawkins. I'm going for a swim!"

Leary watched Curran walk down to the pool side, and strip down to his trunks before diving in the water.

"What do you think?" he asked Hawkins.

"What I think is that our beloved leaders in love, again." Hawkins grimaced. "Lets just hope it's not another Claire Varrens."

Ramos nodded. "Amen to that."

Charlie felt a whole lot better. The hotel room was perfect. Air conditioned, comfortable, clean, she just couldn't think of the right words to thank her benefactor, he had been so nice, wonderful in fact.

She had taken a long, marvelously hot shower, enjoying the luxury. The shower at the apartment had been as temperamental as everything else, either cutting out on her, or running cold and discolored. This, this was paradise, especially with the complimentary shampoos and shower gels provided by the hotel, many of her own toiletries had ran out and she'd found them difficult to replace.

She wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and dried off a little. She was still aching. She dropped the towel and peered at her hip in the mirror. Damn, she was already bruising up there, her leg too, and another bruise was coming out on her right shoulder. Never mind, she'd live. She stared at her naked reflection in the mirror. She had lost weight from her hips and waist she realised, not from her boobs though, they were as big as ever. Men didn't go for women with boobs these days, at least not if you considered all these magazines, and the models in them. They were all flat chested with long, straight, shiny hair. Nothing like her hair. She picked up a brush and got to work on it, pulling through the curls, knots, and tangles to get it under control, at least for a while. She wondered what sort of women James Curran liked. He must have his pick. Thoughts of those sexy eyes made her face burn with a blush. Damn, he didn't even have to be in the same room to get her embarrassed, this was ridiculous.

An hour or so later there was a knock on her door. She answered it to find one of the hotel staff stood there.

"Miss Standen?"

"Yes?"

"These are for you." He handed them over.

"Thank you." Should she tip him or what? But she didn't get the chance, the man simply nodded to her, smiled, and left.

Charlie closed her room door and put her treasures down on the table. There were flowers, beautiful cream lilies that gave out a most wonderful perfume. She didn't even need a vase, that was already included in the elegant display. There was a box too with a ribbon around. She opened it and found a lovely casket of chocolates inside, they looked almost too good to eat. She took the little card from the flowers and opened it.

From James.

Oh wow, that was it then. Looking at him at all was going to be an impossibility now.

She made a real effort with her appearance ready for dinner. She didn't have all that much to wear, she had insisted on traveling as light as possible, but her mother, bless her, had convinced her to pack at least one outfit that was presentable. The long skirt and cropped top with it's heart shaped neckline had been made from fabric a friend had sent her from India. They had been a little creased, but a couple of hours hung in the still steamy bathroom had more or less done the trick.

She fought her long, tightly curled hair, up into a French pleat. Other than brushed or plaited, it was the only style she could do. Even though she spent a good long time on it, the curls started to sneak out on her as soon as she moved. Oh well, it would have to do.

She anointed herself with a little of the Egyptian perfume she had found in the market. More of an oil really, but she had really liked the exotic scent, and it had cost hardly anything.

She pulled on a pair of sandals, her only pair of sandals, thank you mother. They were a stark change to her usual soft leather walking boots, and they felt a little strange.

That was it, the best that she could do. She looked at herself critically in the mirror. At the face with the touch of make up on the eyes and lips, the girlie clothes. What on earth was she doing this for? For a man who had been her white knight, who had been sweet enough to buy her flowers and chocolates. A man who made her pulse race so much she could scarcely look him in the eye.

She looked at herself again and then rummaged through her bag until she found a tatty cardboard box. She took out the locket that was inside, nestling with a collection of old papers and who knew what else. She had bought it last night, from one of the street urchins that regularly hung around outside the museum. She didn't usually buy things from them. She knew that a lot of it was stolen, but she liked this particular boy, and he was only asking a few pounds for it. The locket wasn't very old, despite the Egyptian hieroglyphs on it, it didn't look to be gold either, but it was nice. What had clinched the sale was the fact that it had the letters HC engraved on the back, she had thought it kind of ironic. She had meant to question the boy about it this morning, but oddly she hadn't seen him, nor had she had time to look through the rest of the box. She would do that later. She stuffed it back into her bag and went into the bathroom and cleaned up the locket, before putting it around her neck. It looked quite nice, she just hoped none of the hotels patrons had had it stolen lately.

It hadn't been easy for James Curran to convince the others to go down for dinner first, and let him bring Charlie down. It had taken Leary, by far the most sensitive of the other three, to see that he wasn't just feeding them a line when he told them how shy she was. He had hoped that he might be able to take her for dinner on his own, but it was clear that he had no chance of doing that. He just hoped she could cope, and that his warnings to Hawkins not to hit on her had sunk in.

He knocked lightly on the door to her room and waited for her to answer.

"Come in," he heard her shout.

He went into the room, closing the door behind him. The room was empty so she had to be in the bathroom. "Charlie, are you ready?"

"Won't be a minute."

He looked around the room, pleased when he saw the flowers, and the partially eaten chocolates. Her work too looked to have been put in neat order, her papers and books were neatly stacked on the little writing desk by the window.

"I see you've been busy," he shouted to her.

"Busy?"

"Your work. Is it all there?"

"Oh yes, yes it is, thank you." The door to the bathroom opened and she walked out. "And thank you for the flowers and the chocolates too, they're lovely."

They weren't the only thing that was lovely. He couldn't believe the way she looked. She was wearing this outfit, sort of Indian style in a terra-cotta color with gold stitching. It suited her perfectly. Her hair was beautiful, it shone in streaks that ranged from gold to almost white blonde. She had it fastened up neatly, but a halo of tiny curls had escaped to frame her face. She was wearing a little make up too, not much, but it accentuated her eyes, and that rosebud mouth.

"You look beautiful." he told her.

"Thank you." Her eyes dropped at once and he saw the spots of color rush into her cheeks.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

"I think so."

Her hand hovered over her glasses.

"Do you need them?" he asked her.

"I suppose I could manage without them really, just don't move more than a few yards away or you'll blur."

"I've no intention of being anywhere other than right beside you," he promised. He had to warn her about the others. "Do you remember me telling you that I was here with three friends?"

"Yes I do."

"Well, they've sort of invited themselves for dinner."

"Oh, right."

"Are you okay with that?"

She gave him a half smile. "I'll be fine."

She didn't sound too convinced.

"Don't worry about it?" he told her. "They'll be on their best behavior." They had better be.

She took a deep breath. "Okay then, lets go." She grabbed the large khaki bag from the table, and he remembered her key.

Curran thought that dinner was going to be an absolute disaster, but he was wrong. His three friends took to her straight away, and surprisingly she took to them, though he had felt her shaking when he introduced them.

It was Hawkins who was the one to make Charlie relax. His stories and jokes, most of which were at Curran's expense, made her laugh, as did his blatant attempts to hit on her.

"Why is it that you keep calling James "boss"?" she asked them. "Is it a nickname of some kind?"

"Oh no," Hawkins assured her. "We do have nicknames for him, believe me, we just can't repeat those in mixed company. The terrible truth is that he is our boss, he's our lieutenant."

"Oh I see, you all serve together." She looked at Hawkins. "You don't seem the type to be a sailor."

"He isn't," Curran told her.

"So Charlie, do you know a lot of sailors?"

"I don't think I know any except for the four of you."

"We think they made him a sailor because he's part fish," Leary told her, refilling her wine glass. They had finished dinner some time ago. "What about you, you're not a typical archaeologist are you?"

She laughed. "Well, tell me how many archaeologists you know."

"You are definitely the first."

"What made you want to be something I can't even spell?" Ramos asked her.

"A lot of things, I suppose." She shrugged. "I always liked history, but I didn't just want to read about it, I wanted to discover it for myself."

"Is that why you're here in Egypt?" Leary asked her.

"No, I wish it were. I've been commissioned to write a book on Howard Carter."

"Who?" Ramos asked her.

"He's the guy who discovered King Tut's tomb," Curran told him.

"All hail the man who spent time in the museum this morning!" Hawkins laughed.

"It was time well spent Hot Shot, you want to give it a try sometime."

"You're absolutely right oh wise leader. I think I will take time out from the pursuit of leisure to get myself a little education." He sighed. "The only problem is that I'm a slow learner, what I need is someone to guide me." He made puppy eyes at Charlie. "You could teach me."

She laughed. "About Egypt perhaps, but I think I'd draw the line there, you' re a little too fast for me."

"He's too damn fast for his own good." Curran gave him a hard look not wanting this to go too far and make her feel uncomfortable.

"So Charlie, do you dance?" Leary asked her, indicating the couples who had taken to the dance floor.

"Erm, no, only when forced." She looked petrified at the prospect.

Hawkins watched the blush come to Charlie's face at the prospect of having to dance with Leary. He smiled to himself, she was nice this girl, intelligent, beautiful, pleasant to be with. It was just a shame he had no chance with her. It didn't take a genius to work out that she was crazy about Curran. She couldn't even look at him without blushing down to her toes. Still, he wasn't one to miss any opportunity to wind the boss up.

He leaned forward in his seat and stared longingly into her big green eyes. "Can I ask you a question that I've been longing to ask you all night?" He noted with satisfaction the narrowing of Curran's lips as he anticipated what the question might be.

She smiled back at him. "Okay."

He pointed to her cleavage. "What is that that you have nestling so happily down there?"

"Oh this." She reached up and unclasped the locket from around her neck, handing it to him. "Pretty isn't it?"

"Why yes, and it's still warm."

Leary snatched the necklace from his hand and gave him a kick under the table.

"Is it valuable?" he asked her.

"I wouldn't have thought so. It's not old if that's what you mean, less than a hundred years at a guess. The symbol on it is the eye of Horus, it's meant to protect you. I bought it yesterday from one of the street urchins who hangs around the museum. You shouldn't buy things from them really, they're inclined to be a little light fingered, but they survive on their wits. He charged me a couple of Egyptian pounds for the box of junk it was in, and I noticed that it had the initials HC on the back, which made me think of Howard Carter. I didn't think it was gold but I gave it a clean before I put it on tonight and now I'm not so sure. To be honest I'm feeling a little guilty."

"It's nice," Leary told her. "Does it open?"

"I thought it might, but I had a try earlier and I can't open it."

"Let me take a look." Ramos took it from his friend and studied it carefully. "It ought to open. If you like I could take a look at it later for you, I won't damage it?"

"He's pretty good with that sort of thing." Curran assured her.

"Okay," she smiled. "Thank you."

Charlie was glad she had come to dinner with James and his friends. They were nice, a little on the loud side, especially the one called Hawkins, but they were good company. They must have been talking for hours, and she was beginning to feel the effects of the long day, the wine, and quite a bit of discomfort from her hip after being sat for so long.

"Are you okay?" James asked her quietly.

"Pretty tired, and a little stiff to be honest." She looked up into his concerned face. "I think I ought to call it a night. I hope you don't mind?"

He smiled. "Of course not. Can I walk you back to your room?"

"I think you'd better, I may not be able to find it again without my glasses. I'm not spoiling your fun am I?"

"Of course not." He turned to the others. "Charlie's feeling a little tired so I'm gonna walk her back up to her room."

"I'm sorry to be a party pooper," she told them. "It's just that it's been quite a day."

"That's no problem." The one tall one called Leary gave her a gentle smile then took her hand and kissed it. "It's been nice to meet you Charlie, we'll see you tomorrow."

"Don't worry about the necklace," Ramos told her. "I'll keep it safe."

Hawkins liberated her hand from Leary's grasp. "But if you find you can't sleep,....."

"Will you give it a rest?" James told him.

"What?" He feigned innocence. "I was simply about to pass on Mom's recipe for a good nights sleep. A little hot milk, a touch of nutmeg..."

Charlie laughed. "Well, thank you, that's very thoughtful, but I'm pretty certain I'll be out like a light. It's been really nice meeting you all. Thank you for a pleasant evening."

"They're so polite, the English, don't you find?" Hawkins asked the others as they watched Curran and the girl leave the dining room.

"She's nice," Leary reflected. "And did you see the way she couldn't look at the boss without that little blush hitting her face. She really likes him you know."

"Well, that goes both ways."

"Yea," Hawkins agreed. "He's been hovering over her like some great big mother hen all night. It must be love."

"Well, at least she's not another Claire."

"I don't think it would be fair to make it too easy for him though," Hawkins told them. He had spotted Charlie's enormous bag still hung on the back of her chair. "No doubt he's happy to finally get her to himself."

"He'll kill you," Leary warned him.

"He can try."

Charlie paused outside her hotel room as James Curran handed her her key. She turned to look at him, peering up into his face. She took a deep breath before saying the words she was determined to say to him.

"Thank you James," she told him. "For everything you've done for me today."

He was about to speak but she reached up quickly and placed her fingers against his lips.

"No, let me finish. I don't know how I would have managed today without you. I'm so grateful. I can't begin to tell you how much, and I don't know if I can ever repay you."

"I don't want thanks. I did what I did because you needed help, and because I like you. I like being around you." He reached out, and his fingers gently stroked her face. "I like that very much," he told her softly.

He pulled her to him and kissed her with those silken lips, his tongue teasing her own lips until they parted and let him in. She was caught up in the taste of him, the scent of his after shave, the feel of his body against hers. Her fingers touched his hair, felt his clothes.

He broke the kiss and pulled back a little, smiling into her face. "I think I'd better say goodnight," he told her. He pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She nodded. She was reluctant to go inside, but if she didn't,... This was moving way too fast.

"Goodnight James."

She watched him walk away down the corridor before she unlocked the door to her room and went inside.

Charlie smiled broadly as she walked into her darkened room. He had kissed her, and it wasn't the kiss of someone who was being kind or considerate, it was the kiss of someone who found her attractive, and desirable.

A powerful hand suddenly clamped over her mouth and was held there, muffling her attempts to scream. Another pressed something sticky over her eyes. Then she was grabbed, dragged backwards across the room! She reached out desperately to try to hold on to something, and she felt a belt and, not a buckle, something else. But before she could hang on she was thrown down onto the bed.

The air was driven cruelly out of her as the weight of what had to be a knee, rammed down onto her stomach. The light was on in the room, she realised. Whatever was stuck over her eyes, tape probably, could not disguise that fact from her.

She felt something cold and metallic press up against her throat, and a man' s voice spoke to her. His face she knew was close to hers, and his breath was foul.

"The map, Miss Standen." The voice was cultured but the accent was Egyptian.

"What map?" she whispered.

Two hands grasped her wrists, pulling them up over her head. Two more hands grabbed her ankles, forcing her legs apart. She began to panic.

"No, please! Don't do anything. I don't know what you're talking about."

The knife was removed from her throat, but to her horror she felt it slide up beneath her blouse, pulled upwards, cutting through the cloth. Her breasts were bared, and to her horror she felt a man's hands on them.

"Very pretty." He kneaded them roughly, pulling on her nipples. "At least they are for the moment. Now let us dispense with anymore games. I want the map and I want it now."

"I don't know about any map!"

A hand suddenly twisted her nipple viciously, forcing a scream out of her before a hand clamped down over her mouth to muffle it.

"Very foolish. However I know you have it in your possession!"

He was drawing up her skirts, baring her. The knife touched her cutting through her panties and they were pulled away. She felt a hand move between her legs. She tried to close them, to squirm away from that touch, but whoever was holding her ankles pulled them further apart.

"Now Miss Standen, I am going to ask you again. Tell me the truth and I'll be gone, lie and you'll experience nothing but pain for the next hour before I ask you again."

"Oh no! Please!"

"Fellow cake-eater!" Hawkins greeted Curran as he bounded up from the staircase to their floor.

"Going somewhere?" his lieutenant asked him suspiciously.

"Just thought I'd pop in on Charlie, wish her a personal goodnight," he grinned.

"What?" The temper flared not just in Curran's voice, but in his eyes.

"Calm down," he shook his head. "She left her bag downstairs so I brought it up for her. Damn things as heavy as a full pack."

"I'll take it to her." His boss held out a hand for the bag.

Hawkins laughed. "You don't trust me an inch, do you?"

"Should I? I remember that trick you pulled with Claire."

"You're raking up ancient history, man. If you don't trust me, then at least trust the girl."

"I do. But she's no Claire Verens, I'm not sure she can cope with you."

"I'm taking the bag." He was determined now. "If you want to come with me then that's up to you."

"How's that gonna look?"

"Well, to anyone else it would probably look like you're a fucking idiot, but lucky for you Charlie's not just anyone." He set off walking down the corridor towards their rooms. Curran was only half a step behind him.

Outside the door to Charlie's room Hawkins paused before knocking and looked at his friend. "Are you sure,.."

A muffled scream of pain from inside the room put a halt to what he was about to say. Instead he put a finger over his lips in the universal signal for silence, and beckoned his friend to move closer to the door. He put down the girls bag and listened intently, Curran right beside him.

For a moment there was nothing, then he heard what sounded like a man's voice before he heard Charlie cry out.

"Oh no! Please!"

No further words needed to be said between either man. they burst into the room, surprising the three men who had Charlie. Two men were holding her down on the bed, the other was knelt on it beside her. He had a knife.

Hawkins reached him first, dragging him away from her and onto the floor, whilst Curran went for the other two.

Hawkins man caught him in the ribs with an elbow, winding him for a moment. He shouted something, in what was presumably Egyptian, to the two who were warily circling Curran, one of whom already had a bleeding nose. They broke suddenly and made a run for it through the open door.

"You stay with Charlie," Hawkins shouted. "I'll get those guys."

Curran crossed to the bed where a quietly sobbing Charlie was clawing at the electrical tape that had been stuck over her eyes. She was half naked, someone had cut away her clothes.

"Charlie it's James." He sat down beside her on the bed. "Here, let me do that."

She moved her hands away and he gently peeled off the tape. She was crying almost silently, her body trembling as she tried to cover herself up. Curran quickly took off his black jacket.

"Here, put this on." He helped her. "Can I hold you?" he asked her.

"Please."

He took her into his arms and she buried her face in his chest, unable to hold back the tears any longer. He kissed the top of her head, and stroked the eruption of golden blonde curls.

"You're safe now," he told her. "It's all right." All he could do was hold her whilst she sobbed it out.

Just a few moments later Leary appeared.

"We were on our way up, bumped into the guys who did this. Ramos and Hawkins have gone after them. I came up to see how Charlie was." He crouched on the floor in front of them. "I'm a medic in the Navy honey," he told her. "Hawkins seemed to think you might be hurt."

She nodded into Curran's chest. "They hurt me."

Leary reached out and stroked her arm. "How about we take a look?"

She looked at him, wiping her tear stained face with her hand before nodding. "Okay."

"Want me to stay with you?" James asked her.

"No," she told him. "I, I'll be fine."

Leary caught his eye. "Maybe you ought to ring the police."

"No!" She sat up immediately and stared from one to the other of them. "One of them, one of the men, when they grabbed me I reached out to stop from falling, I touched his belt. I felt a badge on it, I think he was a policeman."

"A cop!" Curran couldn't believe it.

"Let's discuss this later," Leary told him. "Give us a while, okay?"

He nodded. He moved aside a mass of curl and kissed her forehead softly. "I 'll be just outside. You're safe now," he whispered.

"I know."

Curran paced up and down the corridor, trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. He hated feeling helpless, waiting. Part of him wanted to be in that room with Charlie, to hold her, protect her. The other part wanted to tear the heads off the men who had... shit, what had they done to her, and why?

Hawkins and Ramos returned a few minutes later.

"We lost them!" Hawkins told him, clearly angry. "There was a car waiting outside, steel blue. Doesn't take a genius to guess that these were the same guys who tried to run her down this morning. No luck with the fucking number though. Are the cops on their way?"

"I didn't call them. Charlie's pretty sure that one of the guys was a cop."

"Fuck! How is she?"

"Hurt?" he shrugged and pointed to the closed door. "I don't know. Did you get a decent look at them?"

"I could maybe recognize the guy with the knife if I saw him again, but the other two... I don't think so."

"Ramos?"

"I only saw their backs man. What did they want with Charlie?"

Curran shook his head. "I don't know, but I intend to find out. For tonight you and I will change rooms with her. I don't think they'll come back, but who the hell knows."

They went into the room that he shared with Hawkins, taking in her bag. He made a half hearted attempt to get some of his things together, but his mind was on what was happening next door.

It seemed an age before Leary popped his head around the door.

"How is she?"

He gave them a tight lipped smile. "She's gonna be fine."

"I thought as a precaution Hawkins and I ought to take her room."

"Yea, I was about to suggest something similar. Have you got a minute?"

Curran nodded and joined Leary in the corridor. He had to ask the question that he didn't want to hear the answer to.

"Did they,.."

"She hasn't been raped," Leary told him quietly. "But they hurt her, make no mistake about that, and they humiliated and frightened her. Changing rooms is a good idea, and I was going to suggest it. More importantly, she shouldn 't be left alone tonight, I think you should stay with her. Throw the other two out of the room, I don't think she wants to see anyone else right now. She's getting together some of her things and then I'll bring her next door, okay?"

He nodded.

Charlie was grateful that only Curran was in the room when Leary took her next door. She didn't want to see anyone else.

She gave the tall medic the best smile she could manage, he had been wonderful to her, and seemed to know exactly how she was feeling.

"Thank you," she told him.

He put her things down on the bed and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Get some rest. If you need anything you know where I am. I'll pop back with those painkillers for you in a couple of minutes, okay?"

She nodded.

"How are you feeling?" James asked her when they were alone.

"Not good," she admitted. She had taken off her ruined clothes and put on a pair of old sweat pants and a T-shirt. Even so she still felt like she had her other clothes on, felt like she could feel that cold metal against her skin.

"Could I take a shower?" She asked him, not looking at him. "I'd really like one."

"Sure. Have you got everything you need?"

"Yes." She picked up her things from the bed and made her way to the bathroom. "You won't leave will you?" The thought of being alone filled her with fear.

"No," he assured her. "I'm staying right here."

She scrubbed at herself until it hurt, trying to get the feel of that man's hands off her. His hands, the smell of his breath, his voice, none of those things would get out of her mind. She wanted to stay in the shower until the memories washed out of her head.

She finally got out, rubbed the steam from the mirror, and stared at herself, at the livid red marks on her body that were already turning into dark purple bruises. She toweled off, drying her hair before she quickly brushed it out. As she slipped on the baggy polka dot pajamas she had brought with her she felt drained, tired. She realised that she had forgotten to bring toothpaste with her, and looked around the bathroom to find some.

What she saw made her suddenly smile, as she realised that one side of the bathroom was incredibly neat and tidy, whilst the other half was utter chaos. It didn't take a genius to decide which half belonged to whom. She saw a bottle of men's cologne in the tidy half and picking it up she took the top off and sniffed it to confirm her suspicions. She loved the subtle perfume of James's cologne, the dark, velvety scent that suited him so much. For some reason it made her feel a little better.

She emerged from the bathroom to find him stood at the open balcony windows, staring out at the view of the Nile. She saw that he had raided the mini bar.

He turned when he heard her, and for a moment she saw steel in his expression, a hardness she had never noticed before, but it melted away with his sudden smile.

"Feeling any better?" he asked her.

"A little." She sat down on one of the beds, unable to keep in a groan of pain as she did so. "I imagine I'm going to be a little stiff by morning."

"That reminds me, Leary left these for you." he picked up two tablets from the table and gave them to her. "I'll get you some water," he told her.

He liberated some Perrier from the mini bar and poured it it into a glass for her.

She took it from him and smiled. "Railway stations on hot summer days."

"What?" He was clearly puzzled.

"Don't certain things evoke memories for you?" she asked him before taking the tablets.

"I guess." He sat down on the other bed opposite her. His once pristine white shirt she realised was smeared with mascara stains. "So bottled water makes you think of railway stations on hot summer days?" he smiled.

"Always, but only Perrier." She gazed at him curiously. "What about you?"

He thought for a moment, then he gave her a slow, slightly sad smile. "The smell of a fresh cut lawn," he told her. "It always reminds me of my father. He died a few years back."

"Was he in the Navy?"

He nodded. "Most of his life, my grandfather too."

"So, you're following in the family tradition?" she asked him.

"For now maybe." He shrugged. "Things can change."

Charlie fought down a yawn, but he noticed.

"You should get some sleep," he told her.

"No," she shivered at the thought. She wanted a sleep that was overwhelming, dream free. "Not just yet. Talk to me a little longer."

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked her.

"I don't know," she confessed. "Ask me something."

"Do you know what they wanted?"

She nodded, how could she forget? "A map."

"What map?"

"That's just it, I don't know. I would have given it to them if I'd had it! He kept saying that he knew I had it, but I didn't know what he was talking about!"

"Hey." He came and sat beside her on the bed, put his arm around her. "Take it easy. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

James Curran ran his fingers through Charlie's hair. Hung lose like this it was so beautiful. Long and so thick that it hung in natural ringlets like golden ropes. She looked up into his face and he kissed her lips softly. He loved the clean soapy smell of her, the childlike softness of her skin. He moved her hair aside, over her shoulder, and kissed beneath her ear, moving slowly down the long curve of her neck. He moved back to her lips, deepening his kiss as she relaxed into the curve of his arm. He took his time, enjoying the fresh minty taste of her. His fingers explored the flesh of her face and neck, not daring to stray to anything he could not see for fear of hurting or frightening her.

"Sleep with me?" she whispered to him, breaking the kiss. "I want you to hold me."

Charlie awoke to find herself cradled in James Curran's arms. He was awake and he smiled down at her.

"Good morning."

"Hi."

He was still dressed she realised. He had spent the night in his clothes.

"What time is it?"

He checked his watch. "Only five thirty, go back to sleep."

"No, you've slept in your clothes. You must want to change and shower." She pulled herself off him and regretted the move at once, groaning at the unexpected pain her body was inflicting on her.

"Are you all right?" he asked, sitting up with her.

"A bit uncomfortable," she admitted.

"Where does it hurt the most?"

"Just here." She lifted the jacket of her pajamas a little so she could take a look at her midriff, where the man had knelt on her. It looked even worse than it had the night before, and the area of bruising was larger. She heard a sharp intake of breath from James.

"Did Leary see this?"

She nodded. "Nothing broken, I bruise really ea -- "

He bent over and kissed the bruise very lightly, very tenderly. As his face came back up, level with hers his eyes looked huge, fathom less. He kissed her on the lips, parting hers with his tongue, to give her a slow deep lingering kiss as he gently laid her back on the bed with him.

"Can I see?" he asked her, his hand poised at the top button of her pajama jacket.

She nodded and he slowly unbuttoned it, gently pushing the fabric aside with his fingertips.

"I'm so sorry." He slowly kissed every bruise. "They won't hurt you again," he promised her, as he returned to kiss her eyes, her chin, her mouth.

"It could have been worse," she told him. "It would have been, if not for you." She couldn't believe how much she wanted this man, despite the fact she hardly knew him, despite the fact that her body protested every move.

"I'm so afraid to touch you," he told her. "I don't want you to be hurt or frightened anymore." He stroked her hair as he lay propped up on his elbow beside her.

"I'd be lying if I said that I didn't want you to make love to me," she told him.

"It can wait, you know what they say about anticipation?"

"No," she admitted. "I don't. What do they say?"

He laughed. "I don't remember. But looking at you, touching you, just being with you, I know how it's making me feel. We never did get that dinner together did we?"

"No. I enjoyed dinner though, your friends are nice."

"They have their moments. How about we have breakfast in bed together instead?"

"That sounds wonderful, it's a little early though."

"You take a nap, I'll take a shower. The doors locked and no one knows you' re here," he reassured her.

"Okay."

He woke her a couple of hours later and she washed up whilst he ordered breakfast for them. When she emerged from the bathroom room service had already been.

"I wasn't sure what to order, so I asked for a full English breakfast."

She looked at all the food. "I'm usually a coffee and toast kind of person."

"Well, we have coffee and toast, and bacon and eggs, cereal, fruit. Looks perfect to me." He laughed.

"Is this how you eat in the Navy?"

"No there's usually a lot more than this."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope. Now get back into bed and I'll bring the food."

She sat down on top of the bed. Every move she made caused her pain and watching it filled him with anger. He would find the bastards who did this to her, cops or no cops. He came to sit beside her and poured them both coffee. A knock on the door interrupted them and he felt her jump.

"Relax, I'll get it." He went to the door. "Yea?"

"It's Leary."

He opened the door and let him in.

"Hey," he smiled at Charlie. "I came to see how you were feeling."

"Not too bad," she told him.

He went and sat beside her on the bed in the spot Curran had just vacated. "Are you hurting?"

"Where he knelt on me mostly."

"He knelt on you?" Curran asked her, as he sat down at the bottom of the bed.

She nodded, her eyes large and childlike over the top of her coffee cup.

"That's what all this is?" He pointed to the area on his own midriff.

She nodded again.

"Is it all right for me to take a look whilst James is here?" Leary asked her.

"Yes."

He took the coffee cup from her and put it down. He lifted her pajama jacket carefully and took a look at the bruising, touching it a couple of times as gently as he could.

"The bruising is just coming out," he told her. "It'll probably feel a whole lot worse by the end of the day, but there's no real damage."

"You don't think she should see a doctor?" He asked his friend.

"If you want to, if you'd feel better with another opinion, then I'll get the hotel to send their doctor." Leary assured her. "By later tomorrow you should be feeling a whole lot better, if you're not then I'll contact the doctor myself."

She smiled. "I trust you."

"Good. What about the hip?"

"It's pretty stiff but some of the fire's gone out of that. I guess I ought to watch where I'm going when I cross the road." She said it with a laugh, but as she gazed at their two faces the laughter disappeared. "That wasn't an accident was it?"

"I don't think so." James told her, hating the horrified look on her face. "I think everything that happened yesterday has something to do with this map those guys were looking for."

"But I don't have it!"

"The question is, why do they think you do."

"Maybe this is something Charlie ought to be thinking about when she's feeling a little more herself." Leary warned Curran, his eyes hard. "She's been through enough for the time being."

He stared at her. "I'm sorry, Leary's right."

"No," she struggled to sit up a little more. "No. I want to know what's going on." She smiled at Leary. "Brooding about it by myself won't help much will it?"

"No. I guess not." He reached in his pocket and handed her another couple of painkillers.

"Are we raiding navy supplies?" Curran asked him.

"With you three to look out for, you bet." He grinned, and gave her back her coffee. "Is that bacon I can smell?"

She nodded "On the table."

"Do you mind, I'm famished?"

"Help yourself I just want toast."

"I'll get you some."

"Don't eat all the damned breakfast," Curran told him. "Some of that's mine."

"Well, I didn't think it was all Charlie's."

There was another knock at the door and he got up to answer it, reluctant to leave Leary with the food, he knew the big man's appetite.

Hawkins and Ramos gave him a smile before filing past him into the hotel room. Hawkins held flowers, the ones he had sent to Charlie yesterday.

"Came to see how you were doing," he told her, a big stupid grin on his face. "And of course to ogle you in your night wear. What I want to know is, what happened to lace negligees and low cut satin nightdresses, polka dot pajamas are not a substitute." He kissed her on the cheek. "I brought flowers."

"So I see," she was laughing. "What happened to my chocolates?"

"You mean James intended those for you!" He looked up at Curran and pouted. "I'm hurt, but they were delicious."

"You ate my chocolates?"

"Excitement makes me hungry," he confessed. "Speaking of food, I spy breakfast."

"Mmh, it's really good." Leary told him, his mouth full.

Hawkins moved away from the bedside to investigate the food.

"How are you feeling?" Ramos asked her.

"I'll be okay," she told him. "Food would help."

"I'll fetch you some, what would you like?"

"Toast please."

"Good 'cos. there's not much bacon left." Hawkins told her.

"There's not really much for five at all here." Ramos told her as he studied the tray on the table.

"Maybe that's because it's a breakfast for two!" Curran told them. "Can't you eat breakfast in your own godamned rooms?"

"Well, technically I am." Hawkins told him.

"We should order some more," Leary added.

Curran gave up and went to lay on the bed beside Charlie. He smiled at her. "Lunch," he told her. "No one gets in here at lunch time."

Hawkins filled a plate with toast and went to sit on the bed with Charlie and Curran.

"You know, last night when I was lying alone next door I started thinking," he told Charlie.

"Thinking's a first."

He threw Curran a dirty look. "Leary says these bad guys are after some map. First they try to run you down, so presumably that's to get access to your stuff, that fails and they decide to ransack your apartment, but no luck there. Then they came here. Someone knew where you worked, where your apartment was, they probably followed you here."

"The landlady knew," Curran told him. "She ordered a taxi for me. This could have gone down a couple of ways."

"That man was so positive that I had the map, even though he had searched my apartment. He must have thought that I had it on me or had it hidden."

"Your bag!" Curran told her. "You brought it out with you to the cafe."

"And you had it with you at dinner last night, you left it on the back of your chair. I was bringing it up to you, that's when we heard those guys in the room."

"Where is it now?" Charlie asked him.

"I brought it in here last night." He looked around and spotted it on the floor, just behind the door. He went over and retrieved it, bringing it back to the bed..

Leary and Ramos came and sat on the other bed

"What's happening?" Ramos asked.

"Maybe a clue as to what's going on." Hawkins looked at Charlie. "This thing weighs a ton, what the hell do you keep in here?"

"Everything. Tip it out," she told him.

He upended the bag onto the bed and the three of them began to sort through it, throwing the girlie things like make up back inside.

"Tea tree oil spray?" Hawkins asked, looking at the pump spray of green liquid. "What is it, some kind of mace?"

"It's for my feet, I do a lot of walking!" She snatched it off him and threw it back into the bag.

"We're looking for a map." Curran reminded them. He dumped her passport, papers and travelers cheques back in the bag.

Hawkins was flicking through the pages of two of Charlie's notebooks when she grabbed an old cardboard box.

"Wait a minute, this has to be it. I told you last night I bought this box from one of the street boys outside the museum."

The box was about 6 x 9 inches, and maybe an inch and a half deep. It was old and a little tattered looking. She eased off the lid.

Curran scraped everything else back into her bag so there was room for her to space out the contents of the box.

There were lots of papers, they looked to be a collection of letters, and they looked old. She opened the top one.

"What the hell kind of language is that?" Ramos asked her. "It's not Egyptian."

"No, it's Greek," Charlie told him. She checked quickly through the others. "They all seem to be in Greek."

"Well, that's useful." Curran told them. "But we don't want Greek letters, we want a map. Let's go through the box."

"What else is in here?" Hawkins felt something down the side of the box. It felt like a pen or a pencil. he pulled it out from beneath the packed letters and let out a long low whistle.

What he held was about eight inches long and about as thick as one of those really expensive fountain pens. One end tapered away to nothing, but on the other end was a flat rectangular foot with a v shape, and a number of slots cut out of it. The thing was beautiful, gold set with colored stones. It was very heavy for it's size.

"What is it?" he asked her.

She took it from him. "I have no idea, but you were right to whistle."

"You think this is real?" Curran asked her.

"Absolutely. It's gold, see the stones, agate, turquoise, amethyst, jasper. This is New Kingdom."

"New Kingdom?" Curran interrupted her.

"Old Kingdom, Middle Kingdom, New Kingdom," she rattled off. "The time of Arkenaten, Tutankhamun, Ramses II. The New Kingdom was established by the 18th dynasty following the eviction of the Hyksos, around 1580 BC, but the high point of the civilization was around the time of those three, between 1379 and 1236 BC."

"This is all off the top of your head?"

"It's what I do," she told him. "And I've studied and thought about very little else for the past couple of months."

He smiled. "I'm still impressed."

"Why thank you."

"Couldn't it be a fake?" Leary asked her.

"It's possible, but if you had the skill and the money to fake something so beautifully, wouldn't you have picked something identifiable? I have no idea what this is."

Curran took it from her and looked at it. "It's solid, nothing moves, nothing opens, it's not a map." He handed it over for Leary and Ramos to take a look at. "Let's keep going through the letters."

They sorted through the rest, but there was nothing, and nothing else in the box.

"No map." Charlie shrugged. "I don't have anything else."

"Wait a minute." Ramos said. "Yes you do, the locket, I'll go and fetch it."

It took Ramos around fifteen minutes of patient, delicate work with a nail file and a razor blade to open the locket.

"Got it!" He took out a tightly folded piece of paper from inside it, and handed it to Charlie.

Curran watched her unfold the sheet of paper carefully. It was drawn in the same ink the letters had been written in. It wasn't a map exactly more a diagram or a plan. Nothing was written on it, though a particular spot was clearly marked on it.

Charlie was staring at it intensely.

"Do you know what it is?" he asked her.

"I think I do, only, I need to be sure. I need my work, one of the books will do. The one with the black cover."

"I'll go." Hawkins volunteered.

"And a pad, and a pen," she told him.

"Yes ma'am." he was out the door.

Curran turned back to Charlie, she was looking from the diagram to the first letter, and her hand was trembling slightly.

"Are you going to tell us what you think it is?" He asked her.

"I need to be certain, and if I'm right then I need to translate these letters."

"You can read Greek?"

She nodded. "Slowly, and I'm rusty, I could really do with a dictionary."

He looked across at Ramos. "Try the hotel or find a book shop." he ordered.

"Greek to English, or Greek to French," she told him

He nodded, "I'm gone."

"What can I do?" Leary asked her.

"More coffee would be nice," she told him.

He got up and felt the pot. "I'll order some fresh."

He had just finished on the phone in time to let Hawkins back in. He had brought all of Charlie's work back with him. He put it down on the coffee table, and brought some things over to the bed.

He sat down. "Here we go. Black book, pad, pen, and brain food." He produced the untouched casket of chocolates.

"So you didn't eat them after all?" Charlie grinned at him.

He raised his eyebrows. "I may have exaggerated, slightly."

"So, what have we got?" Curran asked her, pinching one of the chocolates.

She opened the book and flicked through it until she found the page that she wanted.

"What are we looking at?"

"Well, this is a diagram of Tutankhamun's tomb." She compared the diagram on the piece of paper. Her intake of breath was huge. "And so is this!"

"So what's the mystery?" Hawkins asked. "It's been discovered right? Diagrams of the place are printed in books. Has something been hidden in there or what?"

"More than something," she told him. "This map shows two extra rooms."

"Are you sure it's Tutankhamun's tomb, couldn't it be someone else's?" James asked her.

"I don't think so. The answer should be in these letters."

"If there are two extra chambers," Leary asked her, "What would be in them?"

"I don't know exactly. But it would be a pretty fair assumption that they would contain treasure of some kind."

"Why else would the bad guys be after it?" Hawkins asked him.

"It's time to read these letters." She looked at the three of them. "I erm, I sort of need some space and some quiet."

"You're throwing us out then?" Leary grinned at her.

"No, I don't want you all to leave. Maybe just one person here at a time, being really quiet?" she pleaded.

In the end it was decided that they take turns. Leary stayed, stretched out on the balcony with a book until lunch time, Curran took over after that, then Ramos who came up trumps with an English/Greek dictionary, and finally Hawkins.

Hawkins came in from the balcony where he had been watching the sunset over the city. Charlie had switched on the lamp beside the bed, so he switched on the rest of them. That done he was at a loss, and began to pace the room.

He shouldn't be pacing, pacing was a Curran thing, he didn't pace.

"How's it going?" he asked Charlie.

"You already asked me that." She didn't look up.

"Right." He clapped his hands together. "And you've nearly finished?"

"Ah hugh." She wrote something on the pad and looked up at him. "You're not very patient are you?"

"Nup, not one of my character traits. Sitting still, being forced to think, I have a lot of trouble with those things." He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm disturbing you, aren't I?"

"No, not at all." She smiled suddenly. "I've finished!"

"Yesss!"

"Okay, what have we got?" James asked her.

She looked at the four expectant faces of the men sitting around her on the beds.

"Well, this box once belonged to Howard Carter, the man who discovered Tutankhamun's tomb. The letters inside are all to him, and written over a very short period of time. All the letters are from George, and that would be George Edward Stanhope Molyneux Herbert, the 5th Earl of Carnarvon. Carter met Carnarvon in about 1908, at a time when Carter was very down on his luck. That changed, though, when he went to work for Carnarvon. By 1914, the Earl owned one of the most valuable private collections of Egyptian antiquities.

"Carnarvon funded the dig for the tomb of Tutankhamun, and they found it -- with all its treasures -- in November, 1922. The rest is the stuff of legend. Tutankhamun's tomb is famous because it was found intact. Grave robbers had broken into it twice, but they were caught, and the tomb resealed. It wasn't opened again until Carter found it. The treasure it contained was amazing when you consider that he was just a little-known boy king.

"But that's not all they found in the tomb. They found something potentially more wonderful than the treasure of a young boy. They found a sealed jar, and in it was a papyrus and this." She held up the jeweled artifact that they had found in the box. "The papyrus revealed the location of two other rooms, and it told how to enter those rooms using this -- the key."

"So why didn't they enter the rooms?" Leary asked her.

"Well, it would seem that Carter wanted to, at least at first, but Carnarvon convinced him not to."

"Why?" James asked her.

"Because these rooms have nothing to do with Tutankhamun. These rooms are the resting place of his father-in-law, the great Akhenaton. He and his wife Nefert Iti are very famous. They were the first monotheists in documented history."

"Mono what?" Ramos asked.

"You know, if we'd had teachers who looked like you, I swear I would have paid more attention in class."

"Can it, Hawkins. Charlie, what's a monotheist?" James asked.

"It's someone who believes in one god, and in this case that god was Ra Heru Akhuti, the God of the Rising Sun. They forbade the worship of any other gods, lavishing wealth and splendor on the one. The papyrus says that Akhenaton lays within the great halls of Ra. It talks of riches unlike any we have ever seen. Carnarvon wanted those riches for himself, and convinced Howard Carter to go along with him, though it would seem from the letters that that was no easy task."

"But Carnarvon died not long after the discovery, right?"

She smiled at James. "That's right. Carter lived for years afterwards. He died in 1939, but he never did any more digging. He became a collector of Egyptian antiquities, successful, but not spectacularly so. He also kept very much to himself."

"So do you think he opened this Akhen guy's tomb?" Leary wondered.

"No, I don't."

"So what do we do now?" Ramos asked.

James raised an eyebrow. "Charlie?"

"Well, normally I would say go to the police. The men who are after this map are grave robbers, thieves. But if one of them is a policeman, then it's not a good idea. I think we should take this information to the director of antiquities at the museum. He'll know what to do with it."

"Have you met him?" James asked her.

"No, but I know of him, of course, through my work at the museum. His name is Gamal al-Ghitani."

"Okay, so tomorrow we rent a vehicle, and we take all this stuff to this Ghitani. Once it's in his hands, Charlie will be safe. Do you think you're up to it?" he asked her.

She smiled. "Yes, I'm feeling much better."

"It might be an idea if we found the boy who sold it to you," Ramos suggested. "Didn't you say he hung around the museum?"

"That's right. It would be good to know where he got the box from in the first place. His name is Nader."

"Okay then, we have a plan for tomorrow. Tonight we stay alert." James told them.

James Curran reached down and straightened the sheet that covered Charlotte Standen as she slept. As much as he wanted to spend time alone with her, he had been happy to see her fall asleep before dinner. She'd slept fitfully the night before, and then had worked solidly for most of the day, translating those letters.

Tomorrow they would hand this over to the museum guy and the nightmare would be over for her, perhaps then they could spend some real time together. He wanted that more than he had wanted anything for a very long time.

He had been out with other women since his split with Claire Verens, but he had met no one that he had real feeling for, no one he had ever really connected with.

He bent and kissed her softly, then climbed into the adjacent bed, more than ready for a good night's sleep himself.

Charlie had liked the Cairo Museum from the first moment she saw it. It was a wonderful, imposing building. Inside it was a mish-mash: some exhibits Howard Carter would probably still recognize, others were more modern, but despite the fact that it had some of the most spectacular exhibits in the world, it had not had funds lavished upon it, which gave it a pleasant Old World feel that she preferred to the new breed of interactive, over-marketed, modern museums.

She would have liked to guide James around the place, show him the museum through her eyes, but that would have to wait, at least for the moment. The most important thing was to hand over this information to the museum's director, put a stop to the men who had hurt her. Thoughts of what happened in the hotel room rose up inside her and made her shiver with the memory.

"Hey." James' arm snaked softly around her waist. "Are you okay?"

She looked up into the concerned eyes and gave him a smile. "I'm fine."

He planted a kiss on her forehead, a gesture that made her blush furiously.

"This is almost over," he told her. "We hand over everything to this curator guy, and then you're out of danger. Now, where do we find him?"

"He has an office on the top floor. Let me check with Marie." She pointed out one of the museum staff. "She should know if he's in."

Marie gave Charlie a grin and then feasted her big brown eyes on James, making no effort to disguise the fact that she obviously liked what she saw. Her smile was even wider when she turned back to Charlie, who could see the many questions in the other woman's eyes.

"Not working today?" She had a heavy Egyptian accent.

"No. I was hoping for a word with Gamal al-Ghitani. Do you know if he's in today?"

"Yes he is. In fact he's down here, talking to a woman from an American University about our Old Kingdom exhibits."

"I don't think I've ever seen him." She pointed out the crush of people. "How will I recognize him?"

"Cream trousers, cream shirt, brown tie, tall. I would say handsome, but,...." her eyes strayed back to James. "He's not all that handsome. Look for the American woman. You can't miss her, she's wearing a black suit and big, black-rimmed glasses."

Charlie grinned. "We'll find them. Thanks, Marie."

The reply wasn't aimed at her. "Anytime."

The Old Kingdom exhibits are over this way," she told him as he took her hand in his. "We shouldn't have too much trouble finding them. A woman in a black suit should be leaving a trail of perspiration a yard wide."

He laughed. "Jokes, now. Maybe you've been spending too much time with Hawkins."

She grinned. "You think I'm joking?"

Marie was right. The woman was easy to spot, and she was even easier to hear. Her voice was loud and nasal, the tone condescending, and she was irritating the devil out of Gamal al-Ghitani. You could see it in his body language, even from behind.

"I just think its a pity, Mr. Ghitani, that we can't use the whole of the exhibit."

The man shook his head. "As I told you, Ms Riordan, the museum is not willing to allow—"

Charlie didn't hear the rest. She felt bile rise up in her throat, her head swam, and she was having trouble catching her breath. She grabbed James' arm, pulled him with her behind one of the exhibits.

"Charlie, what the hell--"

"It's him!"

"The curator guy. I guessed -- " He stopped, realization dawning in his face. "He's one of the men?"

She nodded. She could feel herself shaking. "I recognize his voice. He's the man with the knife."

"You're sure?"

"I could never mistake that voice," she assured him.

Getting out of the museum without being seen didn't present any problems. James slotted them in the middle of a group of tourists heading for the doors and they were out within moments. What he found difficult was not going back in there and beating the shit out of the bastard who had tortured her. That night he hadn't got a clear look at the guy, but the height and build were right, and Charlie's obvious distress at hearing the man's voice was enough for him.

He hurried her away from the museum as quickly as possible, away from the building and any immediate danger, and into the bustling city streets. Finally he stopped and caught her in his arms, pulling her to him. He could feel the slight tremble in her body.

"Easy," he told her. "We're out of there now." He spotted a bar across the road. "Come on, let's get you a drink."

"What about the others?"

Leary and Hawkins were watching the entrance and would have seen them leave. Ramos was searching for the kid who had sold her the box.

"Don't worry. They'll find us."

He took her to one of the tables, ordered them both coffee, and a brandy for Charlie. The waiter was just returning with his order when the others found them.

"What happened?" Hawkins asked, once they had coffee for themselves. "You weren't in there long enough to talk to that guy." His dark eyes were on the pale and withdrawn Charlie, who sat nursing a glass of brandy.

"We didn't have to. She recognized his voice from the other night. He was the guy with the knife."

"Did he see you?"

Curran shook his head. "Any luck in finding the kid who sold her the box?"

"No." Ramos told him. "Everyone knows Nader, but no one's seen him for the past few days. I got the impression that they didn't expect to see him again."

"You mean they think something may have happened to him?" Charlie put down her drink, clearly upset.

Ramos nodded sadly. "It looks that way."

She shook her head, clearly fighting the urge to cry. "I -- I think I need to pay a visit to the ladies'. Excuse me."

"Are you all right?" James asked her.

"I will be. Just give me a minute." She dashed off.

"Sorry, boss," Ramos shook his head. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"It's done, now. Hearing that bastards voice again," he shook his head. "It really shook her up."

"So what do we do now? What's the plan?"

"It's still Charlie's call, up to a point."

"The easiest solution would be to take the guy out," Hawkins told him.

"Oh yea, ice the guy, that would work!" Curran shook his head in dismay. "What about the other two guys in the room with him, the one who was driving the car? What if he's working for someone else? And what do we say to Charlie? How do we explain that she's out of danger because we killed him?"

Hawkins stared at him. "Okay, I take that back. The most satisfying solution would be to take the guy out."

Curran had no argument with that.

"Why don't we just turn the whole thing over to the American embassy?" Leary asked him.

"It would be Charlie's word against this al-Ghitani guy's."

"Not if we had proof." Hawkins told them.

Charlie came back from the ladies' feeling a little better. She looked at the four men she had come to like so quickly, sat down and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," she told them. "Hearing that man's voice again...it just -- it was a little too much."

"There's no need to be sorry." Leary told her.

"You've just been so wonderful to me, and I've been such a...such a..." What was the word she was looking for?

"You've been just great." Ramos told her. "Don't think otherwise."

James took her hand under the table. "You're doing just fine."

She gave him a half-hearted smile. "You think?"

"I know." He smiled right back at her.

"The hard part is knowing what to do next. Do we give what we have to the police, hope for the best? What do you think?"

"We could try that," Hawkins told her. He grinned slowly. "Or we could go with the plan we've just hatched out between us."

"Plan?"

"This is outrageous," Charlie told them, staring from one face to another. "You can't just do something like this." She knew she was wasting her breath. She had been trying to talk them out of this idea since they had proposed it yesterday at that little bar.

She climbed stiffly out of the jeep they had hired, James behind her.

He handed her her bag. "We just need to know if this is a feasible plan."

"I can't believe that you're even considering this. Do you think there's no security here? That you can just walk in and start poking around in Tutankhamun's tomb?"

"Ssh..." James pressed his fingers gently against her lips. "Not if we get ourselves arrested in the Valley of the Kings car park, we can't. We're here to get the lay of the land, to see what's possible." His eyes were large, smiling, beseeching. "Trust me, please?"

The trouble was she did. As crazy as all of this seemed, she trusted each one of them, and James particularly.

She nodded.

"Okay, then, let's be tourists. Charlie, you know this place. Show us around."

"I have to say that looking at this place, the phrase 'is this it' sort of springs to mind." Hawkins told her.

She smiled. "Not everyone keeps their sweeties in a clear, glass jar. Come on, we need tickets. One ticket entitles us to see three tombs, but we have to buy a special one to visit Tutankhamun's."

She led them off, happy to be on familiar territory. At least it helped her to forget what they had in mind. One thing spoiled the Valley for Charlie: the influx of vendors. Admittedly they were kept away from the tombs, but she still thought it was a pity to see so many of them selling the tackiest of tourist souvenirs.

One of them caught her eye, though, and she steered the others over. The man was selling hats.

"I think you need to invest," she told James. "It's only 9 AM. In a couple of hours' time the sun will be hitting this place like a hammer on an anvil, and you're so fair."

He grinned and flipped her plait over her shoulder. "What about you?"

Charlie fished in the bag and pulled out a blue baseball cap, emblazoned with the legend The Harlequins. It was only on her head for a second before Leary grabbed it.

"Harlequins? A soccer team?"

"Wash that mouth out," she told him, retrieving her cap. "We're talking rugby, here. That's a little like American football, but without the girlie padding and the crash helmets."

"Is it me?" Hawkins asked. "Or has anyone else noticed that Charlie's beginning to come out of her shell?"

She blushed furiously and the others laughed.

James pushed the cap's brim down over her eyes. "Girlie padding huh? Choose me a hat before you get yourself in any more trouble."

She looked around at the array of hats the man had for sale until she saw one that she knew would suit him perfectly.

"This one," she told him, placing the soft, tan fedora on his head.

"Oh shit!" Hawkins groaned. "It's Indiana Curran!"

"Who?" Charlie asked him.

"You know, like Indiana Jones."

She shook her head. "Who's Indiana Jones?"

"An archaeologist," Leary told her.

She wracked her brains. "I don't think I've ever heard of him."

"He's not a real one," James explained.

"This guy has a hat and a whip," Ramos told her, confusing her even more. "In the movies."

"You have no idea what the hell we're talking about, do you?" Hawkins asked her.

"Not a clue. Maybe I ought to get out more?" To her horror, they all agreed with her.

Charlie's own enthusiasm for the valley and the tombs it contained were almost her undoing. Apart from Tutankhamun's, they only visited one other: an old one, belonging to some guy named Tuthmose III. In all honesty, they could have included the climb up the modern metal staircase outside and the descent into the tomb itself as part of SEAL training. It was a hell of a work-out.

For Charlie, bruised, stiff, and still in more pain than she would admit, it had to be purgatory. How she had had the will power to go around King Tut's tomb and keep up her easy-to-understand commentary on everything they came across, Leary would never know. He watched her now, as they drove back to the hotel in the jeep. She was fast asleep, her head pillowed on Curran's shoulder.

"Not bad for a civilian, huh?" Hawkins asked him.

"She was in agony back there, you know. Make sure she takes some of those painkillers when we get back to the hotel," he told Curran.

"I may have to come by for a close encounter with that foot spray of hers, myself." Hawkin's moaned. "I can't believe this is what tourists do for pleasure."

"I kinda liked it," Ramos told them, eyes fixed on the road as he drove. "The best part was in Tutankhamun's tomb when half of the tourists were leaving their guides and following us around so they could hear what Charlie was saying."

Hawkins laughed. "That was pretty good. It's a crime, really."

"What is?" Curran asked him.

"Women who look as good as Charlie does just shouldn't be that intelligent?"

"Dear god," Leary shook his head. "If that's what you think, man, then I suggest we drop you here so you can shuffle back into the nearest cave."

Curran laughed. "Can you imagine the confusion when they discover 'Hawkins Man' at some date in the future?"

"Can you just all go fuck yourselves? What I meant was that bright women don't find me attractive."

"Sure you did!" Curran laughed and the others joined him.

"So, are we clear on what equipment we'll need?" Curran asked the others, his voice low since Charlie, who was in the bathroom, had turned off the shower.

The others nodded in turn.

"Good, then we go this time tomorrow night, and no slip-ups." He turned to Hawkins. "No taking stupid risks. Not with Charlie along. I don't like the idea of her going with us, but we need her."

"No risks," Hawkins assured him. "But there's something you need to do, before we get into this. You need to tell her the truth. You need to tell her who you are, and what it is you do."

"You know I don't do that. It's a mistake -- "

"Fuck that, she deserves to know!" Hawkins insisted.

"I agree with Hawkins," Leary told him. "She cares for you, boss. If you have real feelings for her, then you should tell her."

Ramos nodded. "Charlie deserves to be told the truth."

"The truth about what?" She stood in the doorway to the bathroom and her eyes burned into him.

"Give us some space, guys, okay?"

The three of them filed out of the room silently, leaving him alone with Charlie. She hadn't budged. He patted a spot on the bed.

"Are you going to come and sit down?" he asked her.

She sat down, faced him, and he could see that there was already hurt in her expression. "What truth?" she asked him.

"I haven't lied to you," he told her. "Not really. I just haven't told you everything. Dale and the others think I should put my cards on the table, and maybe they're right."

"Are you trying to tell me that you're married?" she asked him.

"No," he laughed. "Nothing like that. Though I have been, briefly. It's about what I do. What we all do."

"You're not mixed up in this, are you? All this helping me, it's not been some kind of a trick to--"

"Charlie, no!" He took her hands and squeezed them gently. "It's nothing like that. What I'm trying to tell you is that I'm a SEAL."

"A what?" A half-smile appeared on her face.

"I'm a Navy SEAL. We all are." He watched the half smile broaden into a grin. "You don't know what a SEAL is, do you?"

"Some kind of diver?" she offered.

"Not exactly. Listen. In 1962, President Kennedy came to the conclusion that wars of the future would be low-intensity conflicts, such as guerrilla wars and acts of terrorism. So an elite special forces unit was created to meet the enemy on his own turf: experts in sea, air, land operations. They're known as SEALS. That's what I do."

"Something like the SAS?"

"Very much so," he told her.

"Why didn't you tell me? I don't understand. Are you supposed to keep it a secret?"

"No, I just make it a point of keeping that part of my life separate from my relationships, these days." Relationships. That was a joke. Not something he had had very much success with, until now.

She stroked his arm. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just thinking." He smiled into her eyes, stroked her beautiful hair. "We're okay, aren't we?"

"We're fine," she assured him. "Hopefully after tomorrow, everything will be fine."

"It will be," he told her. "I promise you."

They returned to the Valley of the Kings that next night in a battered-looking, old jeep. She didn't bother to ask where they had got it from. They were different tonight, her four friends. There were no real jokes between them, none of the usual banter. They were focused and, when James spoke, they hung on every word.

They parked a fair distance away, the jeep well-hidden, and walked in to the valley itself. James had told Charlie to stay as close to him as possible, and to stay quiet. She did her best to follow both of his instructions. The other thing he told her was not to be scared. That wasn't quite so easy. She was terrified.

They all wore dark clothing to blend into the darkness, Charlie in a pair of dark trousers borrowed from Hawkins, far too big at the waist, but belted tightly. The four men seemed to blend in perfectly with the darkness, making themselves almost invisible. At times she would have lost James completely, if he hadn't reached out to take her hand, guide her. They also seemed to have the ability to see in the dark, finding their footing, seeing the way ahead over the difficult terrain, whereas Charlie had stumbled many times and had to concentrate to keep her feet.

They stopped, moving close to the tombs, crouching beside the walls.

James's mouth moved close to her ear. "The guards are lazy," he whispered to her. "Once they pass us, it's going to take at least another ninety minutes before they return."

She had no idea how he knew any of this, but she believed him. What she couldn't believe was that a moment later the lazy guards, both carrying weapons slung over their shoulders, walked right past them as they crouched in the darkness. Charlie had to fight the urge to scream, she was sure that they must be able to hear her heart pounding in her chest.

Once the guards had moved on, out of sight, they moved to the gates of the tomb itself. Her legs were shaking, partly through fear and partly with excitement.

Before she knew it, Ramos had opened the gates and they moved inside.

It was a little eerie in the darkness, but once they had descended to the tomb itself they were able to turn on the emergency lighting.

"Okay?" James asked her.

She nodded. "I think so."

He pulled out the map and the key, and handed them to her. "Let's find the entrance."

"I think I have a pretty good idea where it is. I tried to visualize the map in my mind the other day." She checked it carefully. "It's this way."

They came to a blank wall, a dead end. "This should be it," she told them.

The others examined the wall carefully.

"Are you sure?" Ramos asked her. "There's no trace of any hidden entrance here. Where would the key go?"

Charlie studied a small, faint, irregular frieze near the bottom of the wall. It looked as though it were unfinished. It seemed a pointless place for such a thing to be.

"This is it," she told them. She knelt down, ran her hands along the frieze until she felt a group of raised markings, that were out of kilter with the rest of them. She positioned the key very carefully, using the cuts in its foot, until it fit perfectly.

"Very clever, Miss Standen. I'm very impressed!"

She turned at the sound of the all-too-familiar voice to find that he had the others all restrained at gunpoint by his men.

"Well, I suppose since you put so much effort into locating the tomb for me, I may as well allow you to open it. Go ahead," he invited.

She glanced at James. He gave her a slight nod.

Charlie pushed the key, locking it into place, and then stood back. For a moment nothing happened and then slowly, and with very little noise, the huge blocks of stone began to move aside, the movement slow, but the precision was awe-inspiring.

"Astonishing." Gamal al-Ghitani slipped his hand around her throat, his grip tight. He surveyed the staircase in front of them. "Shall we venture inside?" His other hand turned on a powerful, wide-beamed torch.

Whatever Charlie had expected, it was nothing compared to the sight that met her eyes at the bottom of the short staircase. The treasures of one of the richest and most powerful kings Egypt had ever known were set out before them, and they were staggering. Golden, jewel-encrusted reproductions of every aspect of Akhenaten's life were displayed in all their glory. All those theories that his tomb had already been discovered, that the pharonic remains they had found were genuine, could be disproved now.

"Dazzling, truly dazzling!" Gamal al-Ghitani's words echoed her thoughts. "Carter was a sorry fool." He shook his head. "But you, Miss Standen, you have been my inspiration. I knew, you see. I knew that if I had you and your friends watched, you would solve the puzzle and lead me here."

"Naser stole the box from you, didn't he?"

"That was the boy's name? The little thief who stole it from my office? My associates questioned him very thoroughly, confirmed that he had sold it to you for a pittance."

"Is he dead?" she asked him, she had to know.

"Very dead. His remains no doubt food for some of the Nile's many voracious scavengers by now."

She fought back tears. "So now what will you do? Claim the discovery as your own?"

"Claim the discovery!" he laughed. "The furthest thing from my mind, my dear. Carnarvon had the right idea, but he would have kept the treasure for himself to simply gaze upon it, whereas I desire only the profits. My pension fund -- after years of pandering to fools, years of handling more wealth than most men ever dream of. In three months time, I have ordered the tomb closed for restoration work, during which time all of this will be catalogued and removed. All that will remain, sealed here forever, will be your body, and those of your friends." He smiled. "Time to say good-bye, dear."

"You're going to shoot us?"

"That was my original plan but, as it turns out, not necessary. I'm simply going to leave you here. You can shout, scream, no one will hear you. Eventually you will die. Could you ask for a more fitting death, or a more spectacular tomb?"

"You're not worried we'll be missed?" James asked him.

"You may be missed, my American friend, but you will not be found." He shrugged. "People disappear in this part of the world every day. Now, enough talking." He gave a little bow to Charlie. "My dear, it's been a pleasure."

The tomb sealed, leaving them in darkness, silence. A torch light suddenly snapped on, illuminating Hawkins' face from under the chin.

"Whoops!"

There were chuckles and the others turned on their torches. James came and put his arms around Charlie.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"No," she admitted. "I think we might die, and that quite scares me. You four seem to find it funny."

"Well, we've sort of been here before," Ramos told her. "It's getting to be a habit."

"I see." She just wasn't too sure that that filled her with confidence.

Leary smiled his gentle smile at her. "Plus, it's easier to think if you're not panicking."

"Okay then," she shrugged. "How do we get out?"

James grinned. "That's the hard part."

Getting out the way they came in was a no-goer. They spent some time examining the entrance way to no effect. Nothing moved. There were no hidden levers, no obvious seams.

"Makes sense that there wouldn't be a way out, when you think about it." Leary told them. "I guess they weren't expecting this Akhen guy to want to leave at any point."

She stared at him. "What did you say?"

"It was just a joke, honey, we'll be -- "

"No, no," she told him. "I'm not upset. What you said, it got me thinking."

"What is it, Charlie?" James asked her.

"That entrance way, it's sealed tight. There are two rooms, remember. How long have we been in here?"

"About thirty minutes," Ramos told her.

"The air!"

James nodded. "It's a little stale, but no more so than when we came in here. We should be running out. We're not."

"Akhenaten must be laid to rest in the other room. We need to go and take a look."

"At the mummy?"

She shook her head. "No, Dale, at the room."

The second room was only slightly smaller. The sarcophagus stood magnificently at its center. Surrounding it were more treasures. Personal items, this time.

"There aren't any bodies?" Charlie said quietly.

"No bodies?" James was clearly confused. "You need to let us in on whatever it is that you're thinking," he told her.

"Okay, wait. We need to search the rooms, both of them, for any signs of human remains."

"Hawkins, Leary, take a look," James told them. "Charlie, you tell me why they're looking."

She nodded. "Even in the days that this tomb was built, grave robbing was big business. Thieves had tried to break into Tutankhamen's tomb twice. The Egyptians went to considerable effort to prevent tombs from being robbed. This tomb is special. It was special when it was built, and it must have been a huge, huge secret. The men who designed this tomb, the ones who knew its secrets, they wouldn't have been allowed to live. It's odds on that they would have been buried alive with the king. It's also a pretty fair bet that they knew from the beginning what their ultimate fate was going to be. If it were you, in their place, wouldn't you have built in an escape route for yourself?"

"I sure as hell would!" Ramos told her. "What should we be looking for?"

"It wouldn't be anything too elaborate. Maybe a tunnel they could open up easily, as soon as the tomb was sealed."

"The air in here does seem slightly fresher, have you noticed? If you're right, then we've got our way out of here." James kissed her. "Clever girl!"

"Only if I'm right."

"Okay, let's start looking."

The others returned a short while later, having found no bodies.

"There's air coming in here from somewhere," Curran told them. "Charlie thinks it's from a tunnel. Start looking."

Twenty minutes later Hawkins let out a whoop of joy. "Found it!"

It was behind a life-sized statue of the pharaoh himself. One block moved out of place where men, left to die in this tomb more than three centuries earlier, had made their escape. Hawkins thrust his body into the gap and wiggled halfway inside.

"It's a tunnel, all right," he told them when he emerged. "It doesn't look too inviting, but it's definitely the way the air is getting in here."

"Inviting or not, it's our way out," Curran told them. "We're back to the original plan." He tapped the camera still slung over Leary's shoulder. "We need photographs of this place. Charlie, find something -- something small enough to carry through that tunnel without it being damaged. Something that will prove beyond a doubt that this place is real. Hawkins, you help her. Ramos, let's see if we can make this crawlspace any easier."

The thought of having to crawl through that tunnel terrified Charlie. She didn't like small, dark spaces, and she was glad to have something to do so that she wouldn't think about it too much.

"So where do we start," Hawkins asked her.

"I'm not sure, but whatever you do, try not to move or break anything."

He saluted sharply. "Yes ma'am! You know, you're even beginning to sound like the boss."

She hit him hard on the rump. "Will you shut up and look?"

Eventually they found it: a medallion bearing Akenhaten's cartouche, solid gold and encrusted with gems. It was magnificent, and priceless.

"Okay," Curran told them. "We have what we came for. Let's get out of here. Hawkins, take point, Ramos the rear. Charlie, you go between Leary and myself." He stared at her. "Charlie, are you okay?" She'd gone as white as a ghost.

She nodded. "I'll be okay. I just don't like small dark places too much."

"Just try and relax," he told her, stroking her cheek softly. "You've been through worse than this over the past few days. You'll make it."

She smiled. "Well, I've no desire to stay here, not without the rest of you."

He kissed her on the lips. "That's my girl!"

The tunnel wasn't easy, even for Curran. In places he was forced to pull himself along on his belly. He knew it must be proving agonizing for Leary, and terrifying for Charlie. He had them pause and sound off at regular intervals, reassured that they were still altogether and that, despite the fact that she sounded exhausted, Charlie seemed to be somehow handling her claustrophobia.

"I can feel a breeze," Hawkins told him. "And there's dim light up ahead."

It spurred them on. The tunnel suddenly opened up. Curran hauled himself out and then turned to help Charlie, pulling her out. Even in the dim light, he could see her face was covered in dirt and tracked with the lines of her tears. He hugged her to him tightly, amazed that he hadn't heard so much as a sob from her.

"We made it," he told her. "I don't know where the hell we are, but we made it." He kissed her, a full, deep lingering kiss.

"Any time you two lovebirds would like to give me a pull would be just fine by me!" Leary said patiently.

They yanked him out, eventually.

They had come into a cave. They made their way to the entrance to discover dawn was just breaking.

"We're in the hills behind the valley," Charlie told them. "The big ones we skirted on the way in. Once we've climbed down, it shouldn't be too far to the jeep."

It wasn't, but by the time they got there, all five of them were exhausted, filthy, and bedraggled.

Milt Stephen, the American ambassador, gazed at the faces of the five disheveled and exhausted-looking people who sat in his plush reception room. He'd never had any dealings with Navy SEALS before, but these men had impressed him, particularly their leader, Lt. Curran. Polite and softly spoken, he had related the details of their story, answering any questions put to him, and occasionally deferring to the young English woman who sat beside him, Charlotte Standen.

The young woman had seemed very nervous at first, and she was mortified at the amount of sand and filth they were depositing on his furniture, despite his assurances that it would clean. She was a beautiful girl, despite the dirty face, and the glasses perched on the end of her nose that gave her appearance a touch of eccentricity. Once she began to speak, though, about Howard Carter, the letters, the tomb, and the magnificent necklace that they had deposited on his table, she relaxed, and he found her presence as compelling as that of the lieutenant, who was clearly romantically involved with her.

Milt smiled at them. "Let me take it from here, contact the appropriate people. Gamal al-Ghitani believes you to be locked in the tomb, and for the time being, it's best that he continues to believe that. Going back to the hotel is out of the question, at least for now. I'll arrange for rooms to be made available for you here, and we'll get you some fresh clothes to change into, once you've cleaned up. No doubt the Egyptian authorities will want to interview you, but that can wait for now.

"Gentlemen, you've done a real good job here," he told them. "And I'll personally be contacting your commanding officer to make sure he knows it. As for you, Miss Standen, you're an extraordinarily brave and clever young woman. You should be very proud.

"Now, enough talk. Let's get you settled."

Charlie had been given a room at the embassy all to herself. The ambassador's wife, Anne, had been wonderful to her, going out of her way to make sure that she had everything she could possibly want or need. She took a grateful shower and dressed in her borrowed clothes, before joining the others to repeat their story for the benefit of a group of somber Egyptian government officials.

She would have loved to have spent some time alone with James, but she rarely got the chance. Even at dinner they were sat at opposite ends of the dining table. It was strange being without him, the first time that had happened in days, and she missed his company. She missed the gentle voice, the easy laughter, and she missed the large green eyes that always looked out for her. She didn't miss them for long, though. She was asleep within moments of her head touching the soft pillow, exhaustion finally getting the best of her.

She slept through for a solid ten hours, and it seemed that she wasn't the only one. She found the others enjoying a late breakfast in the embassy gardens.

She gave James a peck on the cheek before taking the place they had saved for her.

"Sleep okay?" he asked her.

"Like a log. I was so tired. Any news?" she asked.

"Those Egyptian guys are with the ambassador now," Hawkins told her. "We're just waiting to hear."

They didn't have to wait very long. Ambassador Stephen joined them before they were halfway through breakfast.

"Well, the news is good," he told them, coffee in hand. "Gamal al-Ghitani was arrested yesterday. He was so confident, he actually had that key thing in his possession. He tried to spin some cock-and-bull story, but it didn't wash. He was -- how shall I put it -- rigorously questioned by an Egyptian Special Police unit. "These guy don't fu -- Pardon me, honey," he blushed. "They don't mess around. He gave up everything. Ten more arrests have been made, a couple of which proved very embarrassing for the Cairo police force. They gave up al-Ghitani himself for the murder of that young boy, Naser.

"You're all free and safe to return to your hotel, and the Egyptian government has asked me to tell you that they will be picking up the tab. For the time being, they would like to keep the whole matter hush-hush. I assured them that you would cooperate."

James Curran was happy to be back at the hotel. The embassy had been okay, the ambassador and everyone else had been amazing, but it was good to be back here, in the room he shared with Charlie.

"You did want to share?" he asked her. "I mean, you're not in any danger now, so if you wanted to be on your own, I'd understand," he lied.

"The truth is, I felt a little bit lonely last night," she smiled at him.

He walked over and slipped his arms around her waist. "Just a little bit?"

"A tiny bit." Her smile grew bigger.

James reached up and gently took off her glasses, placing them on the bedside cabinet before wrapping his arms around her once more. He moved in close to capture her lips with his when a knock came at the door.

He laughed. "Great timing. We could ignore it."

"And it could be the police, or the ambassador."

He nodded and moved reluctantly towards the door. "It could be, but somehow I just know it won't be." He opened the door and saw familiar faces. "Hey guys! Come on in."

All three of them were dressed in shorts and equipped with cameras.

"Ready to explore?" Hawkins asked them.

"Explore?" Charlie grinned. "Did I hear that right?"

"We booked a Nile tour with the hotel," Ramos told her.

"With the hotel huh?" James shook his head.

"I convinced them you were right, boss," Leary explained. "It's a crime to visit a place like Egypt and not see the sights."

He nodded. "That's great, guys. The only thing is Charlie's not really feeling up to it right now."

"Is there something wrong?" Leary asked her.

"No, not really," she told him. "I'm just tired still. I thought I might take a nap for a while."

"And I thought I'd hang around and keep her company," Curran told them.

"It's silly, really, but I still feel a little uncomfortable being on my own." She shrugged.

Ramos nodded slowly. "Right."

"Hey, don't worry about it!" Hawkins had a huge grin on his face. "We'll catch up with you two later."

"Much later," Leary added.

The three of them left.

Charlie stared at him. "I'm ashamed of you."

"Ashamed?"

She nodded. "As a lieutenant in the Navy SEALS, I thought you were a man beyond reproach."

"Did you, now?" he smiled.

"Do you think they believed us?" she asked him as he took her in his arms.

"Nope."

She sighed. "And I thought you wanted to explore."

"I do," he told her sincerely. "But the Nile can wait. The exploring I have in mind is a little closer to home."

"Really?" she smiled into his eyes. "Where, exactly?"

He moved aside her thick blonde hair. "I thought I might make a start here," he told her, planting a kiss beneath her ear. "Then I thought maybe here," he explained, slowly unbuttoning the front of her shirt to plant another kiss just above her left breast.

She let out a long, deep sigh. "Sounds just perfect to me."

Curran, Hawkins, Leary, and Ramos sat at the poolside bar.

Hawkins watched as his boss's eyes flicked back to the hotel for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"Love," he observed sadly. "It's terrible the effect it can have on a man."

"Will you give it a rest!" Curran told him.

"Simply making an observation. Did I mention your name? Did I mention the fact that you can't keep your eyes off that goddamned door?"

"I just want to know what the guy from the British Embassy wants with her, that's all."

Leary handed both men a drink. "Now's your chance to ask her."

Charlie joined them accepting a kiss from James, and a drink from Leary.

"So what was all that about?" Curran asked her.

"Politics, I suppose. The British and Egyptian governments have asked that I keep the discovery of Akhenaton's tomb a secret."

"What?" He couldn't believe it.

"The Egyptians are embarrassed that high-ranking officials were involved in this affair, and the British government feels that it would be a mistake to besmirch the reputations of Howard Carter and Lord Carnarvon by revealing the true facts. The tomb will now be 'accidentally' discovered during routine restoration work."

"But everything you did!" Ramos told her.

"I didn't do all that much. I'm not all that disappointed. It wasn't really my discovery, anyway. And I haven't come out of it empty-handed." She smiled and opened her fist. Nestled inside it was Howard Carter's locket. "The Egyptian government asked me if I would like it as a keepsake. And that's not all. The British government has arranged funding for my first dig in Ecuador. That's after I've had a well-deserved couple of months' holiday in the country of my choice." She grinned. "Isn't that fantastic?"

"That's great, Charlie," Curran told her, hoping to keep the disappointment he was feeling out of his voice. "Where were you thinking of going?" It was going to be Claire Verens all over again. Just when he thought he had found someone special, she was going to up and leave.

"I told them I thought it would be wrong to waste the taxpayers' money on some exotic vacation, so I thought I might arrange to go and stay with a friend for a couple of months."

"A friend?"

"Yes, he's really nice. He has this houseboat in Norfolk, Virginia. Thought I might stay with him for a while. If he'll have me."

James pulled her into his arms. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he didn't care. "He'll have you."

Her own grin was just as wide. "You can take me to see one of those Nevada Jones movies."

Hawkins shook his head sadly. "That's Indiana Jones!"

"Whatever!" Charlie gazed up into the sexiest green eyes she had ever seen. "I can't see him being as cute as Indiana Curran anyway!"

Dedicated to Charlie, no doubt currently lost in France.

THE END