The Oracle Code - By Charles Brokaw Page 0,60

on the table. “At the moment, no one is using it, but we assign security in the area at all times to keep equipment from being liberated.”

“I see.” Lourds put his backpack on the table. He gave a small smile. “All the comforts of home.”

“Yes. We even have television. American TV.” Fitrat pointed to the large-screen television in the living room that was big enough to house a banquet. “We steal the signal to get HBO and ESPN. The American soldiers who train our future policemen do not want to do without the comforts they have grown used to. Perhaps later, if you are not too tired, you might enjoy watching a basketball game. I believe there is one on.”

Lourds grinned. “Perhaps.” He looked at Layla. “I need a room to work in.”

“Of course.” Layla looked at Fitrat. “Captain, if you would see to getting Miss Cherkshan squared away?”

“I will.”

“She will also need clothing and toiletries. She’s not carrying a bag, so I’m assuming she has only the clothes on her back.”

Anna smiled appreciatively. “That is right. Professor Lourds felt it was not prudent to try to go back to my hotel room. I am still in yesterday’s clothes, and I am not happy about that. Does this place also have hot water?”

“It does, and there is a bath you can have to yourself.”

“That would be awesome.”

It still occasionally shocked Lourds to hear true American slang coming from Anna. Every now and again, her time at the Columbian School of Journalism showed through.

“Captain? Will you show Miss Cherkshan the way to her bath?”

“Of course. This way, miss.” Fitrat took the lead and headed off with Anna in tow.

“Thomas?”

Hefting his backpack one more time, Lourds fell into step behind Layla and followed her upstairs to another floor of the building.

“Captain Fitrat has men in the alley and on top of this building.” Layla talked as she walked up the stairs.

Lourds couldn’t see the sway of her hips beneath her burqa, but he recalled the times he had, and the memory made his heart pound with anticipation.

“So we will be relatively safe as long as we are here.”

“Relatively safe?”

Layla glanced back at him. “If whoever is after you decides to bomb the building from an airplane, there will be definite problems, yes?”

“Yes, most definitely. And thank you for that delightful scenario. That was one that I hadn’t considered, and it is now number one with a bullet.”

***

The room held all the amenities of a good hotel room without being lavish. There was a large bed, a love seat and two chairs, and a desk in the corner. A television sat atop a chest of drawers.

Lourds looked at the bed. “Big bed.”

Layla smiled at him. “I am afraid we will not be sharing it. Captain Fitrat is a progressive thinker compared to most men in this country, but many of his men are not.”

Disappointed, Lourds nodded. “I understand.”

“However, that is not to say that we cannot have private conferences.” Layla smiled at him.

Lourds placed his backpack on the bed. “Feeling up to having a private conference?”

“I do. However, I was thinking that perhaps you needed someone to scrub your back.”

Smiling, Lourds took her by the hand. “As it turns out, I do. You said there was a bath?”

She began disrobing and laid her clothes neatly on the bed. Getting undressed took her a while, but Lourds enjoyed the show, and his pulse quickened when she finally stood nude before him.

“I’ve missed you.” Lourds took her into his arms.

“I have missed you as well.” Her voice caught in her throat, and she stared at him. “When I heard the news about the attack at the dig site, I was so afraid I would never see you again.”

Lourds shook his head and held her. “That didn’t happen. I’m here.”

Layla traced his goatee and his lips with a forefinger. Her touch was so light it sent chills down his spine. “I know.” Her eyes glistened. “But those men—whoever they are—seem very determined.”

“Yes.”

“Is there any way you can walk away from this?”

Lourds hesitated. With every fiber of his being, he wanted to know the secret the scrolls held. He wanted to get some kind of justice for Boris’s death. Walking away would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.

But for the first time in his life, he knew he could do it.

“All you have to do is ask.”

For a moment, Layla stared quietly at him. “You would do this for me?”

“Yes.”

“I am flattered.”

“Layla, I love you. That’s

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