That Time in Cairo by Logan Ryles (books to read in a lifetime .txt) 📗

the cheek and shoving his right thumb into the man’s eye. He pressed with full force, and the man reared back in pain, struggling to break free. Wolfgang pushed harder, then shot his hips upward. The dislodged thug rolled backward, jerking his head and frantically trying to protect his eye. Wolfgang followed, rolling on top of him and lifting his hand to deliver a throat punch. His opponent, in spite of the blood streaming from his left eye, was faster. He shoved out with both hands and hit Wolfgang in the chest, slamming him against the wall of a nearby building. Wolfgang’s head cracked against the bricks. Waves of dizziness and disorientation washed over him, and he suddenly wasn’t sure which way was up. He couldn’t move.

The guy got up and reached into the folds of his black robe. A moment later, steel flashed in the moonlight—another knife. Wolfgang coughed and tried to move, but the dizziness weighed him down as though he were underwater and steadily sinking.

Tires ground against the pavement, and headlights shone into the alley. The guy with the knife looked up, and fear flooded his face, then he turned and bolted away from the car. Wolfgang coughed and twisted toward the light.

The 4Runner sat at the end of the alley, headlights blazing. Wolfgang blinked in the glare and then saw Megan lying on her back. The first attacker straddled her with his forearm pressed against her windpipe, bearing down on her. She thrashed and tried to break free, but to no avail.

Wolfgang choked and stumbled to his feet, lurching toward her. Before he’d moved two yards, Kevin appeared from the 4Runner. He bolted across the alley and grabbed the attacker by the scruff of the neck. With one powerful heave, Kevin hauled him up and threw him against the wall, pinning him there with his feet dangling and his nose crushed into the brick.

Kevin’s eyes blazed, the muscles rippling beneath the stretched skin of his arms. Then he cocked his right arm back and delivered a lightning blow to the back of the man’s head. Bone crunched against brick as the man’s face caved in, and then his lifeless body crumpled to the dirt.

Wolfgang swallowed, catching himself against the wall. He felt the urge to puke as he stared at the flattened and mangled features. Kevin shot him a glare, then turned quickly and bent over Megan.

Megan lay on the ground, gasping for breath and gently massaging her throat. Kevin bent over her and started to scoop her up like a child.

Megan brushed him off. “What did you do?” she said. “You killed him, you moron!”

Kevin frowned, confusion and anger crossing his face. “Killed him? Killed who?”

“The book thief, you fool!” Megan picked herself up, still rubbing her throat.

Pollins.

Wolfgang remembered the doctor and turned back down the alley. Pollins lay slumped against one wall, the bottom half of her shirt torn open and her head rolled to one side. Blood oozed through blonde hair, and Wolfgang broke into a run.

“I had to kill him!” Kevin spluttered. “He was gonna kill you!”

“Not once you threw him off me. Dammit, Kevin!”

Wolfgang ignored them and felt for Pollins’s pulse. It was pounding. He tilted her head back and checked her face against the image on his phone. It matched perfectly, even with her eyes closed and her cheeks pale.

He rubbed her wrists, then gently massaged her temples. “Wake up, doctor. You’re safe now.”

Pollins groaned, then blinked slowly. Her eyes were the same crystal blue as in the photograph, but now bloodshot and strained by panic.

“Where . . . where am I?”

“You’re okay, doctor. You’re safe now.”

Wolfgang offered her a warm smile.

Pollins’s brow wrinkled. “Doctor?”

He nodded. “Yes. You’re a historian, remember? You study Egypt.”

Pollins stared at Wolfgang, still blinking, then she twisted, and Wolfgang saw something on the ground next to her. It was a small leather passport cover, stamped with a British flag on the face. He picked it up as Kevin and Megan continued to argue.

“We’ll never find them, now,” Megan growled. “You better hope that scroll is around here someplace.”

“It’s not,” Wolfgang said.

The arguing ceased, and both of them looked his way.

“What do you mean?” Kevin snapped.

Wolfgang closed the passport. “I mean, these guys weren’t our book thieves, and this isn’t Amelia Pollins. It’s her twin sister, Ashley.”

The hotel room was warmer than the streets outside, with comfortable furniture and two king-size beds. They set Ashley Pollins on the end of one bed, and Kevin went to find her an ice pack and water while they waited for Edric and Lyle to arrive. Ten minutes later, Charlie Team gathered around Ashley, watching as she huddled at the end of the bed with an ice pack held to her temple.

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Edric asked.

Ashley’s eyes were wide with fear, but the disorientation had faded. She looked away and said nothing. Edric pulled up a chair, motioning for the others to give her some space. They retreated to the corner of the room, and Edric spoke quietly.

“Ma’am, I need you to talk to me. We’re looking for your sister.”

Ashley surveyed the small crowd, her focus coming to rest on Wolfgang, her apparent rescuer.

She chewed her lip a moment, then looked back at Edric. “Who are you?” She had a gentle British accent.

“We’re the good guys,” he said. “We’re here to help your sister.”

“What makes you think she needs help?”

“Doesn’t she?” Edric asked.

Ashley didn’t answer.

Edric patted her on the hand. “I’m very sorry about your mishap, ma’am. I saw the stamp in your passport. Looks like you’ve only been in Egypt for a couple weeks. Did you come to visit your sister?”

Ashley glanced around the room again, then nodded.

“You live in England, right?”

“Yes.”

“Are you and your sister close? I imagine you must be, being twins.”

A solitary tear slipped down her cheek.

“It’s okay, ma’am. You’re safe now. We won’t let anybody hurt you.”

“It’s not me,” she mumbled. “It’s Amelia.”

“So, she’s in danger?” Edric pressed. “They took her, didn’t they? Somebody took