The Mercedes stretch limousine stopped at the yacht club dock in the harbor of Alexandria. The chauffeur opened the door and Robert Capesteffe climbed from the back seat. Wearing a tailored white linen suit with a powder-blue shirt and matching tie, he no longer looked like Topiltzin.
He was guided down a stone stairway to a waiting launch. He sat back in the soft cushions and enjoyed the ride across the harbor and through the enwmce where one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World, the famed lighthouse known as the Pharos of Alexandria, once stood, a towering 135
meters high. Only a few stones built into an Arab fort were all that remained of its ruins.
The launch headed for a large yacht that was moored around the harbor and off the long wide beach. Capesteffe had walked her decks on previous occasions. He knew her length to be forty-five meters. She was Dutch-built, with sleek, aircraftstyle lines. She had transoceanic range and a cruising speed of thirty knots.
The pilot eased back on the throttle and slipped the launch into reverse at it approached the boarding steps. Capesterre was met on deck by a man dressed in an open silk shirt, shorts and sandals. They embraced.
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... A - lcotne, bt(,,there,' saiki Paul Capesterre. 'It's been too long.
'You look healthy, Paul. I'd say you and Akhmad Yazid have gained about eight pounds.'
'Twelve.'
'Almost seems strange to see you out of uniform,' said Robert.
Paul shrugged. 'I get tired of Yazid's Arabic gear and that stupid turban.' He stood back and smiled at his brother. 'You're a fine one to talk. I don't see you in your Aztec god outfit.'
'Topiltzin is temporarily on holiday.' Robert paused and nodded at the deck. 'You've borrowed Uncle Theodore's boat, I see.'
I-He hardly has use for it any more since the family left the drug business.' Paul Capesterre turned and led his brother into the dining salon. 'Come along, I've had lunch set. Now that I've learned you finally developed a taste for champagne, I've dusted off a bottle of Uncle Theodore's finest vintage.'
Robert took an offered glass. 'I thought President Hasan placed you under house arrest.'
'The only reason I bought the villa is because of a hidden escape tunnel that runs underground for a hundred meters and comes up in a mechanic's repair shop.'
'Also owned by you.'
'Of course.'
Robert raised his glass. 'Here's to Mother and Father's grand scheme.'
Paul nodded. 'Although at the moment, your end in Mexico looks more promising than mine in Egypt.'
'You're not to blame for the Lady Flamborough fiasco. The family approved the plan. No one could foretell the cunning of the Americans.'
That idiot Suleiman Aziz Ammar,' said Paul harswy, 'he blundered the operation away.'
'any news of survivors?'
'Family agents report most were killed, including Ammar and your Captain Machado. Several were taken prisoner, but they know nothing of our involvement.'
'Then we should consider ourselves lucky. With Machado and Ammar dead, no intelligence agency in the world can touch us. They were the only link.'
'President Hasan didn't have any trouble putting two and two together or I wouldn't be under house arrest.'
'Yes,' agreed Robeil, 'but Hasan can't act against you without solid evidence. If he tried, your followers would rise up and prevent any trial. The family's advice is to keep a low profile while consolidating your power base. At least for another year, to see how the wind blows.'
'for now the wind blows at the backs of Hasan, Hala Kaniil and Abu Hamid,' said Paul wrad'lly.
'Be patient. Soon your Islamic fundamentalist movement will sweep you into the Egyptian parliament.'
Paul looked at Robert with a cagey expression in his eyes. 'The discovery of the Alexandria Library treasures might speed things a bit.'
'You've read the latest news reportst' asked Robert'
'Yes, the Americans claim they've found the storage chamber in Texas.'
'Possession of the ancient geological charts could be to your advantage.
If they point the way to rich oil and mineral reserves, you can claim credit for turning Egypt's economy around. '
'I've considered that possibility,' said Paul. 'If I read the White House correctly, the President will use the artifacts and scrolls as bargaining chips. While Hasan begs and haggles for a paltry share of Egypt's heritage, I can go before the people and raise the issue as an outrage against our revered ancestors.' Paul hesitated, his mind leapfrogging. Then he continued, his eyes narrowing. 'With the right semantics I think I can twist Muslim law and the words of the Koran into a rallying cry that will crack Hasan's government.'
Robert laughed. 'try and keep a straight face when you speak. The Christians may have burned most of the scrolls in A.D. 39 1, but it was the Muslims in 646 who destroyed the Library forever.'
A waiter began serving Scottish smoked salmon and an caviar. They ate for a few minutes in silence.
Then Paul said, 'I hope you'realize the burden of seizing the artifacts falls on your shoulders.'
Robert stared over the rim of his champagne glass. 'You talking to me or Topiltzin?'
