The Alexander Cipher Page 0,56

corners, Nessim barely an outstretched arm behind. Knox reached the ground-floor lobby, tiles still slick from their mopping. He slowed just enough to keep his footing, but Nessim’s feet went from under him and he crashed into the bank of elevators, turning his ankle, cursing loudly. Knox burst out the door and sprinted for his Jeep. He risked a glance behind. Nessim had emerged, too, hobbling badly. He had retrieved his gun but was holding it flat against his side—this place was too public for such things. He shouted at his colleague, who started up the Freelander and drove over to pick him up.

Knox ran to his Jeep, jumped in, turned on the ignition. The engine caught on the first try. He was away at once, up a narrow alley to a main road, which he cut into so sharply that cars behind him had to swerve and brake, getting in each other’s way, honking like enraged geese. A glance in his rearview mirror told him the Freelander was struggling to bull its way through this sudden traffic jam. Knox took advantage, turning left, left again, losing himself in the maze of streets, constantly checking his mirrors, but there was no sign of them. He allowed himself to relax a little. Then he checked once more, and there they were. How the hell had they managed that? He stomped on the gas, but the faster and more maneuverable Freelander was catching him inexorably.

Up ahead, at a level crossing, a passenger train crawled into view on his side of the road. Traffic slowed to allow it past, but Knox stamped his foot down and swerved into oncoming traffic, honking furiously to move others aside. The train was still coming. There was almost no room, but he kept his foot to the floor and charged across the tracks, the train’s engine flicking his rear bumper and nudging him against a wooden gatepost, but then he was through and swerving back into his own lane with nothing but clear road ahead, ignoring the fists being shaken and horns angrily honking. A glance in his mirror. The train had come to a complete halt across the road. He’d have at least a minute, probably two. He turned a corner and parked. No way had Nessim picked up his trail just like that, not in a maze like Alexandria. If Augustin’s place had been under surveillance, maybe they’d found his Jeep, too. He got down on all fours to search and found the transmitter taped to his undercarriage. He pulled it free and ran back to the street, flagged down a taxi, and paid the driver to deliver it to the Sheraton in Montazah Bay. Then he jogged back to his Jeep and drove off in the opposite direction.

Nessim wasn’t a fool. He’d soon realize he’d been tricked. Knox had to make the most of this short window. But Alexandria wasn’t like other cities, with a hundred escape points. His choices were essentially to head south to Cairo, east to Port Said, or west to El Alamein. But Nessim would have backups, that was for sure. Hassan didn’t operate on the cheap; he’d have those routes watched for an old green Jeep. So maybe he should lie low until they dropped their guard. But where? He was toxic; he dare not inflict himself on any more friends. Nessim would certainly check all of Alexandria’s hotels. And he couldn’t stay on the street. Anyone could spot him. He needed to get underground.

The idea, when it came to him, was both so outrageous and so fitting that he gave a snort of laughter and almost rear-ended the van in front of him.

AN UNWELCOME SURPRISE awaited Nicolas Dragoumis when he and his bodyguard, Bastiaan, drove in from Alexandria Airport to the necropolis site. He wanted to get right to raising the plinth to find out what lay beneath, but Ibrahim had evidently decided to make an event of these proceedings. All the excavators were lined up in a greeting party to shake his hand, and there were tables set up, their white cloths laden with cups of tea and disgusting-looking cream cakes. Clearly, he was expected to exchange small talk with these people. It wasn’t something he was skilled at, being polite to nonentities. But he was playing for high stakes, so he gritted his teeth and hid his scowl and did his best.

KNOX STOPPED AT THE FIRST ATM he saw and pillaged it for money. Hassan knew