The Amulet of Power - Mike Resnick [18]
“Well, if we’re going to find what we need, that’s the place to look,” said Mason, heading off.
“I’ll go,” said Lara. “You make sure no one steals the boat.”
“I’ll go. You stay here.” She seemed about to object, and he held up a hand to silence her. “If you walk into that station with your pistols in the middle of the night, they’ll shoot you or call the police. And this is Egypt, not England: If a lone woman walks in there without any weapons, she’ll probably never be seen again.”
“I’m tougher than you think.”
“Don’t be so sure,” said Mason. “I already think you’re plenty tough. But this isn’t about who’s toughest. And I’m not patronizing you. It simply makes more sense for you to stay here and protect the boat while I go arrange our transportation.”
She saw the logic of his argument and agreed to remain with the boat. He spent almost half an hour in the station, chatting with the attendant, feeling out the various truckers who had stopped for gas. Finally he found one he thought he could trust, made him an offer, haggled for another ten minutes, and returned to Lara.
“Did you get what we needed?” she asked.
“It’s perfect,” replied Mason. “He’s hauling a tractor on a flatbed. He’ll pull it off, leave it at the station, and come get us. With a little luck, we’ll be back on the Nile, south of the High Dam, in less than an hour.”
When the truck pulled up, it took all three of them to load the boat onto the flatbed. Then they climbed into the truck’s cab, and true to Mason’s prediction, they were back in the water, eight miles to the south of Aswan on the man-made Lake Nasser, an hour later.
“Well, we made it,” said Mason with a sigh of relief.
“So far,” replied Lara. “Now all we have to do is spot the Amenhotep before the Mahdists spot us.”
7
Lara peered into the darkness as a cloud passed in front of the moon.
“What time is it?” she asked.
Mason squinted at the phosphorescent hands on his watch. “About half past three. The Amenhotep should be arriving any minute.”
She frowned. “It had better be. I feel very exposed in this dinky little boat.”
“They could be awhile,” cautioned Mason. “They’re not just letting criminals off; they’re probably taking some new ones on, as well. And the captain may have to slip some money to the local officials.” He looked north through the darkness. “Ah! Here it comes already.”
“That’s not the Amenhotep,” said Lara. “The lights are too low.”
The craft slowly approached them, and soon they could make out its outline.
“That’s one hell of a cabin cruiser,” said Mason admiringly. “I wish I had the money someone shelled out for it. It was probably built for an oil-rich sheikh.”
“What’s it doing here?” said Lara. “Ninety-eight percent of all the boat traffic is north of the High Dam.”
“Maybe the fishing’s better,” suggested Mason. “Or maybe he lives here. There are worse sights to wake up to each morning than Lake Nasser.”
“Maybe,” she said dubiously.
The cabin cruiser came closer still, and suddenly its spotlight hit the small motorboat.
“Duck!” cried Lara, instinctively hurling herself to the floor of the boat as a hail of bullets thudded into the side of the boat and splashed into the water around them.
“Damn!” muttered Mason.
“Are you hit?”
“No,” he said. “I cracked my head against the side of the boat.”
“Let’s hope that’ll be the extent of your injuries,” she said, pulling out her pistols.
“I don’t know how you can see anyone to shoot at,” said Mason, peeking over the edge of the boat. “That light is blinding!”
“Let’s even the odds,” she said, blinking her eyes and waiting for her vision to return. Then she took aim and fired a single shot. The spotlight seemed to explode, and the men aboard the cabin cruiser began firing again.
“Give me one of your guns,” said Mason.
“I told you—they read my palm print. They won’t fire for anyone else.” She peered into the darkness. “How many can you make out?”
“Three, I think,” he said, squinting at the cabin