Hawk glanced at Alex, who nodded and slid another picture in front of Ngozi.
“Does this look familiar to you?” she asked.
Ngozi leaned forward and squinted while he studied the image. “Of course, of course. That’s the Jonah Sarchophagus that our team excavated during a dig about two years a go.”
Alex cocked her head. “It looks like the Jonah Sarcophagus, but it’s a fraud. We had this independently verified by three other experts. You might be worried about Bashir getting to your family or other loved ones, but I suspect you care more about your reputation.”
Hawk pinned the picture to the desk. “And it’d be a shame for this news to get out.”
“I-I had no idea,” Ngozi said. “The process I used to verify its authenticity must have been—”
“Stop right there, Dr. Ngozi,” Hawk said, holding up his hand. “I’ve had enough of this. Now, I don’t care that Malik Bashir is the man you fear the most in this world. But what I do care about is your willingness to assist us in setting up a meeting with The Missile Man.”
“You don’t just set up a meeting with him,” Ngozi said. “There’s a protocol. And you have to have a good reason.”
Hawk smiled. “Fortunately, we have a good reason—the Severus Scroll.”
“I can’t let you—”
“You can and you will,” Hawk said. “But I promise to return it to you along with everything else in his collection once I take care of business.”
“Even if I make the call, you’re going to have to meet with him in person,” Ngozi said. “He’s going to know that you’re not me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Hawk said as he leaned forward and picked up the phone, removing it from its cradle. “Give Mr. Bashir a call, and set up a meeting. You have a scroll to sell him.”
CHAPTER 12
LATER THAT SAME AFTERNOON at their hotel, Hawk and Alex labored over the details of what to include in their email to Malik Bashir. They used Dr. Ngozi’s previous emails to Bashir as a template for how to construct their request to meet. However, they wanted the meeting to come across as urgent in order to make contact before the sale of the weapons to Karif Fazil and his Al Hasib organization was completed.
“Does it sound desperate?” Alex asked.
Hawk re-read the email. “It’s solid. Bashir shouldn’t suspect anything.”
“Here goes nothing,” she said as she pressed the send button. “Dr. Ngozi said Bashir always responds within twenty-four hours. Now all we can do is wait. ”
Hawk chuckled. “If you think I’m in an international city like Cairo with you and I’m just going to sit around and hope to get a response from an email, you’re quite delusional.”
The edges of Alex’s mouth began to curl upward. “Hawk, that is just what I wanted to hear. What did you have in mind? A romantic dinner at a restaurant along the Nile?”
Hawk turned to Alex, taking both her hands in his. “I’m really fond of you, Alex, but there’s something I need to tell you.”
Alex’s eyebrows rose as she swallowed hard. “What is it? Oh, no. There’s another woman, isn’t there?”
Hawk broke in a soft laugh. “No, there’s not another woman. However, I’m concerned you might have misconstrued my intentions.”
Alex’s lips began to quiver. “You—you don’t really like me?”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Alex. I’m talking about my intentions for tonight. And fine dining wasn’t on the menu.”
“So you have something a little more exotic in mind?”
Hawk shrugged. “You could say that.”
“Well, don’t keep me in suspense any longer. Tell me what you’re thinking about doing.”
“I want to go see Dakarai.”
Alex’s face lit up. “Oh, sounds interesting. Is that an Egyptian play or a movie?”
“Dakarai is a contact we had when I was with the Seals. I never actually met him, but I had to memorize the protocol to meet him if I were to ever need help in northern Africa.”
“And you think we need help?”
“We need some of what Dakarai has.”
“And what’s that?”
“Something that gives us an advantage.”
***
AN HOUR LATER, Hawk went to the Windsor hotel and used the guest phone to dial Dakarai’s number. On the fourth ring, Dakarai answered. Hawk immediately hung up. He called back, and Dakarai answered on the second ring.
“Alo,” Dakarai said.
“Which way does the wind blow?” Hawk asked.
“It always blows east in Egypt but south in Sudan.”
“How does the wind blow in Cairo?”
“There is no wind in Cairo.”
Hawk proceeded to read off an authentication code, a long string of letters and numbers.
“I will meet you in fifteen minutes,” Dakarai said and then hung up.
Hawk exited the hotel with Alex, and they walked to the prescribed meeting location in a park two blocks away. Hawk suggested Alex continue walking and they split up so if Dakarai saw them, he wouldn’t get suspicious.
Hawk sat on the designated bench and waited. Every minute or so, he checked his watch and glanced in both directions to see if anyone around might fit the description of Dakarai. But nobody who remotely resembled him had appeared in either direction. Then a shirtless boy approached with an ice cream cone.
“Eat this,” the boy said. “All of it.”
Hawk didn’t mind the sweet cool treat in the middle of another warm day in Egypt. However, he studied the ice cream for a moment or two, tentative about heeding the instructions. Protocol with Dakarai included a request to do something. As Hawk took his first lick of the cone, he only hoped Dakarai hadn’t been compromised.
Once Hawk finished, the boy returned with a napkin that had an address written on the outside.
Two minutes later, Hawk knocked on the door of Dakarai’s home.
“Brady Hawk,” a man in a wheelchair said after the door swung open. “I’ve been expecting you. I am Dakarai.”
Hawk stepped forward and shifted to the side, revealing Alex. “Nice to meet you,” he said. “I also brought my friend, Alex.”
Dakarai froze. “That’s not part of the protocol.”
“She’s with me,”
