He was hanging out of the open door, firing, his head almost on the road racing by beneath them. Protected, she hoped, by the door panel. But she doubted his view of the other car was any better than her view of the road. In other words: nonexistent.
Metal pinged against metal as his shots were returned.
She expected the sound of cars crashing behind them, but Isis still flinched and bit her lip at the voracious crash and crunch of the cars smashing into one another a few seconds later. The blast of an explosion rocked their car. The furnace heat of an exploding gas tank warmed the crown of her head and shoulders as a ball of fire exploded far too close by. Red bloomed behind her tightly closed eyes.
“Slide over,” Thorne said grimly, giving her a little shove. Numbly, Isis slid back across the seat, eyes still squeezed shut. Shaking, she huddled, half on the seat, half in the footwell as his door slammed, shutting out the majority of the cacophony outside, so that the sound of her rapid heartbeat in her ears was deafening.
The Jeep didn’t stop, or slow down.
After a few moments, Isis opened her burning eyes and swallowed dryly. “They stopped following us.” That was the best she could manage. Whoever had been in that car, or God help them—those cars—was very dead. No one could have survived that conflagration.
“No. One car stopped following us. The Audi is closing in, and fast. What’s the next turn?”
She was half sitting on the open map, and lifted her hip to free it. She straightened her glasses and found her place with a shaking finger. “Turn right onto Abd El Khalik Tharwat.” Calm descended. Probably shock, but she would take it.
He veered sharply from the left lane across traffic to take the right-hand exit. Isis didn’t even flinch when cars blared their horns and tires screeched to avoid them. Same old, same old.
She struggled half up onto the seat so she could see where they were. Streetlights flickered on, shop windows brightly lit against the evening shadows. Lots of foot traffic now that they were off the main arteries. She recognized the area. “Continue on to Gohar al-Kaed for about a mile and a half.”
“Do you have a destination in mind, or are we just driving?” He almost mowed down a donkey cart filled with tomatoes and giggling children, and had to go up on the curb to avoid two old men shuffling across the street in the semidarkness.
“We’re heading toward Insaid al-Azhar Gardens. Lots of tourists, but better still, only a few blocks from Husani’s apartment. I know the park quite well; we played there as children.”
He checked the review mirror. “Good enough.”
“I don’t want these clowns to follow us to Husani’s place, Thorne!”
“We’ll shake them. Where next?”
“Sharp left. Stay on Passages Insaid al-Azhar Garden, then keep left at the fork. We’re almost there.”
IT WAS A WARM evening, with just a hint of a breeze scented with fresh-mown grass and night-blooming flowers. Thorne abandoned the Jeep in a gully running alongside the full parking lot and grabbed Isis’s hand. She pulled him into the green park, beyond which he could see the glow of Cairo’s lights reflecting off a scudding cloud cover.
A concert in the amphitheater was drawing a large crowd of cheerful, jostling teenagers who inhabited the hilly lawns and winding paths of park like ants at a picnic before the music started.
“This way,” she said, tugging his hand. “I know a shortcut. I spent several months each year in school near here, and learned all about it. They spent thirty million dollars building this oasis in the middle of the city. It was a garbage dump for five hundred years! Can you imagine that?”
Thorne didn’t give a flying fuck but let her rattle on about hidden walls and something about the park being expensive as they walked at a fast clip. Hedge-lined plazas, rolling lawns, flowering plants, and tall palms framed spectacular city views. Of greater interest was who, if anyone, might be following them. He kept a sharp eye out as they walked. He wouldn’t bring danger to Husani’s home and was prepared to run like hell if necessary.
Water features misted the air with their cooling spray as Isis and Thorne mingled with the crowds, blending in as people streamed to the amphitheater. “Keep going; I’ll catch up with you,” he said in a low voice.