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