Jan Coffey by The Deadliest Strain

Author:The Deadliest Strain
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2009-10-16T05:49:43+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Erbil Iraq

Fahimah could have stayed the night at her friends' house and returned the following day. She had given Jalal's name to the Americans, though, and she didn't want to risk them going after the old man in the morning.

It was half past twelve when she had them drop her off at the corner, one block west of the Shahan Hotel. She wasn't about to risk exposing others. She feared that anyone who was connected with her - family, friend or whatever - would be considered guilty by association by Agent Newman.

She saw no pedestrians on the street, but there were still a few cars. Across the road, a small white car slowed down and the driver and a man in the backseat called out the windows at her. Realizing they were about to make a U-turn, she ran the remaining half block to the front door of the hotel. It was locked. Glancing back as she knocked on the door, she saw the white car coming slowly down the street toward the hotel.

"Come on," she murmured in Kurdish, knocking harder.

A sleepy doorman appeared and opened the door just as the car pulled up in front. Fahimah hadn't seen him that afternoon, but he let her in and locked the door.

As she gave the doorman her name, she looked out at the street and pointed to the white car. Two sets of eyes were watching her. The doorman looked out, and the car immediately pulled away from the curb.

"Mamnun," she said, thanking him.

The doorman told her that they were waiting for her. She didn't have to ask whom he was talking about. Thanking him again, she went up the stairs to the second floor.

All the rooms they'd taken were adjacent to one another. None of the soldiers were in the hallway. No one to guard, Fahimah decided.

She didn't know which room was Austyn's, so she tapped softly on both of the doors adjacent to hers before putting the key into the lock of her own room.

Her door opened before she could even turn the key.

"You're back," Austyn said, relief written all over his face.

His hair, though short, was standing on end, as if he'd been running his fingers through it. He was dressed in an old T-shirt and khaki shorts. As he stepped out and looked up and down the hallway, she thought he looked tense, weary, and somewhat worse for wear.

"I told you I would meet you back at the hotel," she said, going past him and into her room. "I suppose we need to talk."

He followed her, slamming the door shut behind him. "You're damn right!"

She glanced over her shoulder, surprised at the show of temper.

"How could you do that to us?" he asked, the look of relief completely gone. "Do you know everyone who traveled with us from Afghanistan is out searching the city for you right now?"

He needed to vent. She let him. She peeled the scarf off her head and threw it on a chair before walking to the bathroom.

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