DISCLAIMER: JQ belongs to HB I am only borrowing the characters for fun

ARCHIVERS: I'd be honored

CATAGORY: Adventure, DBN

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the delay, I had to make sure that pesky thing
called a plot wasn't spawning any nasty off-spring that would come back
to haunt me. Sorry to all the angst fans (myself included) but I had to
split part 3, too long! But save those Kleenex! If I've done this right
you'll be needing them for later. I promise! So without furthur ado I
present...

BLOOD AND JADE: PART 3
BY SHENSA swndc@sprintmail.com 


Cairo
JULY, 11


    He made arrangements to hanger the Ghost. No way was he going to
leave his favorite toy to the ravages of scouring sand and oven-hot
temperatures. As he worked his way through the crowded press of the
airport he decided against the suicidal thought of getting his own car.
Outside he haggled for a taxi, after the long flight he had no stomach
for battling the mayhem that was the streets of Cairo. Instead he
trusted his luggage and his life to a small wiry man by the name of
Daoud.
    He folded his frame into the tiny back-seat and repeated the address
Jade had given him. With a lurching squeal of tires and a puff of
noxious smoke they surged into traffic. Race eyed the tattered interior,
pausing for a brief moment as he spotted a few pictures of some
interestingly veiled Arabian girls tapped haphazardly to the cracked
dash. He shook his head and settled in for the ride, this contraption
might only be a car in the academic sense of the word but at least it
had air-conditioning.
    With the horn blaring they made their way quickly through the
teeming mass of cars, trucks, bicycles, donkey carts and camel caravans.
Of course it helped that Daoud was not adverse to creating his own lane;
as well as having yet to meet his match in colorful native vocabulary.
So it was with undaunted ferocity that the tiny Fiat and its' occupants
manuvered their way through the swollen streets of Cairo.
    The ride seemed to end all too soon for Race. Who had found it an
unexpected pleasure careening madly through throngs of oncoming traffic;
for a while at least he was able to forget his true reason for coming to
this fascinating land. The Bristol House was located in one of the
oldest districts of Cairo. Driving down its narrow streets one stepped
back in time to the waning days of the British Empire. Officer's clubs,
vacationing aristocracy, Howard Carter, King Tut and oppressed natives;
the streets reeked of history and a few other things.
    He left Daoud smiling with a large tip and a carton of American
cigarettes. Thus insuring his future loyalty should he ever require the
man's impressive skills again. With a wide smile and the sincere
blessing of Allah's protection and guidance the little man sent his
battered, faithful steed spinning down the cobbled street.
    After the customary scan of his surroundings Race shouldered his
bags and headed up the polished marble steps of the old hotel. The air
was cooler here. Even the sun seemed unable to break through the haze of
these twisted old alleys and grand monuments to a time decades
past.         He stepped through the doors and into a lobby that could
still be considered impressive; in its' day it must have been stunning.
The open lobby soared four stories skyward and was circled by a grand
staircase on each side. Old ceiling fans whirled silently, creating a
soft breeze that gently fanned the tall potted palms flanking the main
doors. Overstuffed leather chairs were scattered about. He guessed they
had probably been here long enough to remember the forms of delicate
lady's and dashing uniformed officers.
    Stepping to the desk he inquired discreetly about the other
inhabitants, watching the clerk for any signs of hesitation. He was
politely informed that aside from himself the only other guests were
twenty-three English pensioners. Herded to the sunny land of the
pharaohs by Sunset Tours and that they would be departing the day after
tomorrow for their customary Nile cruise.
     "Great" muttered Race. He hadn't planned on walking into the middle
of a retirement home.
     *Just one more burr in my boot, I'm gonna have one heck of a bone
to pick with you lady*
    He collected his key, politely declining the help of the geriatric
bell-hop and headed for the stairs, passing two old spinsters at
afternoon tea.
     "I say! A very striking fellow."
     "Ah, to be young again" sighed her companion, appreciatively
admiring the view.



    He dropped his bags before the door and eyed the lock with disgust
before turning the ancient key. Stepping into his room he stopped short
when he felt the touch of cold steel against his temple.
     "Well, well, well if it isn't the Lone Ranger."
    In less then a heartbeat he had the gun in his hand and his attacker
firmly by the wrist. With a deft twist his assailant soared scross the
room to land in a tangled heap upon the bed. He stood scowling down at
the spitting, cursing figure as they struggled to free themselves from
the twisted bedding.
     "Then I guess that makes you Tonto in more ways then one
sweetheart."
     "Damn you Bannon! You could have broken my neck!"
    *Don't I know it* he thought cagily.
     "You're late!" she snapped.
     "If I'd of had any sense I wouldn't have come at all" he snarled;
tucking the pistol into the band of his jeans before shutting the door.
     "You used to be so much fun" she pouted looking-up at him through
heavy lashes.
     He took a deep breath.
    "Uh uh, I ain't playing your games. You've got three seconds to
start sayin' something about what's goin' on at this party of yours or I
walk out of here without looking back."
    She brushed the hair angrily from her eyes with a sudden swipe.
     "Well then have it your way cowboy."
     "I intend too" he answered levelly. "And now that we've got the
awkward introductions out of the way. Why don't you just tell me what 
I've flown some 3800 miles to be in the middle so we can get this circus
on the road."
     "Nothing more then a business deal gone awry darling." She finished
untangling herself and rose from the bed to pace the room.
     "The break of a lifetime. My ticket into the big league of
respectable art thieves; champagne, caviar and limousines. $250,000
up-front, $250,000 upon delivery of the item, half a million dollars."
    He let out a low whistle and leaned against the wall, crossing his
arms over his chest.
     "I knew that was a chunk of change not even you could sneer at" she
replied haughtily, then she shrugged.
     "It seemed straight forward enough. The mark was a mid-level dealer
looking to score big. Cautious but he lacked the security and backing of
the big boys; perfect" she purred "except for just one thing. He was too
perfect." 
    She threw herself into a chair twisting a lock of ebony hair around
a slender finger, eyes blazing.
     "One too many buzzards circling the carcass looking to get fat and
one went and spoiled your party" finished Race hardly able to keep the
amusement from his voice.
     "Forget the party, it's my life I'm worried about!" she snapped.
     "Less then three hours before *I* was about to make my move! I'd
been planning this for two months!"
     "You know what they say about the early bird" he drawled. She shot
him a nasty look before continuing her story.
     "Well, by this time I had kind of gotten used to the good life and
a quarter of a million just isn't what it used to be. And well, you know
I never was good with deadlines..." she looked sheepishly his way.
     "You spent the money and left your boss holding an empty bag."
     "As you can guess he was less then appreciative and the next thing
I knew nasty ultimatums started coming my way. I used to think the world
was a pretty big place, plenty of nice sandy beaches and sunny locales.
The guy's worse then a homing pigeon!" she snarled.
     "But you know fortune, she'll steal your favorite purse and leave
you with a fur-coat or a statue, one worth say, half a million dollars
or your life."
    Race leaned forward raising an eyebrow. "So now you're telling me
after first losing this thing to another thief you now *have* this
statue that has everyone running around like headless chickens in a
slaughterhouse?" 
     "That I do darling and its been harder then I ever imagined just
trying to keep it that way. The damn thing is probably cursed, wouldn't
surprise me with all the trouble I've had." 
    She shuddered and began to dig through her purse, found a cigarette
and lit it with a hand that was anything but steady.
     "Well, I've opened-up a can of worms all right and if I don't get
that statue delivered by the fifteenth *I'll* be worm food."
    She was scared. There was no doubt about it. He was right this time
it wasn't a game, it was every bit as serious as it sounded. Lathan
Harris wasn't someone to mess around with, Jade must have struck a soft
spot if he'd let her play this long. Race knew Harris was currently
under investigation for no less then three crimes ranging from art theft
to murder. He was dirty all right but none of it ever stuck, the man was
worse then Teflon. 
     *Now I'm stuck square in the middle of it. The Lone Ranger and no
calvary for back-up* He wondered when he'd ever learn.
     "So you've got the statue, why wait till the fifteenth? Why don't
you just deliver now, collect and be done with it?"
     "If it was that easy do you think I'd humiliate myself by calling
for you to come and save me from the villains in black hats? You don't
contact Lathan Harris, he contacts you. Through his extensive relay
system of low-lifes; his high-lordship surely wouldn't stoop to contact
a mere thief in person."
     "Unless that thief happened to make off with two-hundred and fifty
grand" reminded Race.
     "You sure do know how to cheer a lady up Bannon. Tomorrow I go to
the open market. Crazy Ali's Souveniers, smack in the middle of tourist
central to recieve my final instructions as to how this monumental deal
will take place."
     "Ok, so where is this masterpiece now?"
     "It's safe" she replied smugly. "Guarded by a couple of stony faced
guys, I figured they didn't have anything better to do except watch the
next two-thousand years roll by."
     "And the previous owner?"
     "Now there's my problem. You see he's a bit peeved right now. He
barely had enough time to dust off the bookcase for his pretty new
bauble when I spirited it away." She smiled like a self-satisfied cat.
     "I still have to live another thirty-six hours give or take and
that's where you come in secret agent man. I want to hire you to see
that I make it that long. I've done fine so far but it's only a matter
of time before they close in. I'm stuck in this crazy city till I get
the go ahead for the meeting and frankly I'm starting to get real
nervous."
    The air hung heavy with silence. He took a deep breath.
     "Okay lady but here's my terms. You're costing a whole lot of
people a whole lot of money. Nothin' gets a bear madder then someone
walking into his cave smackin' him on the nose and stealing his honey.
And nothin' gets me more put off then having to fly half-way around the
world to bail your thieving behind out of some tangle just 'cause you
can't balance your checkbook. But I owe you one so here it is."
    Her eyes narrowed. "You owe me one huh? Oh, I remember now, that
would be the time I saved your three brats from becoming fish-food while
you were tied-up, unconscious in the trunk of some criminals car. That
was quite the family vacation, wouldn't you agree, hun? Now where did I
put those pictures?"
     "All right, so I deserved that one" he conceded.
     "But this is it, the end of our relationship, business or
otherwise. We run into each other at the supermarket, nothing more then
two ships passing in the night."
     "What, no more wild trysts in the produce section?"
    He glared. She shrugged.
     "Deal. Upon delivery of the statue *you* no longer officially
exist" she muttered, snuffing her cigarette solemnly.

END PART 3
BLOOD AND JADE