The Haze by Burnaby Hawkes

Author:Burnaby Hawkes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: spy thrillers espionage Langley CIA agent director, China Asia virus Covid 19 coronavirus Sars flu, Saudi royal family prince king oil gas natural, Russia Lubyanka Putin Syria War terrorist, Lee Kuan Yew Singapore Malysia Indonesia haze, Egypt Muslim brotherhood Morsi Hosni revolution, cheating wife affair truth lonely wolf Turkey
Publisher: Athena Book Tavern
Published: 2020-05-07T00:00:00+00:00

17. It

“Here’s what I don’t get,” Ernest had said, bending his left leg under his thigh on the couch. “You’ve been dating for...?”

“Four months, more or less.”

“And she’s already moved in?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I call that ‘lightspeed dating.’ Certainly women are taking over. I’m happy for you, Hec. You’re getting old and who knows.”

“Oh, shut up.”

“So, how was the trip?”

Hector summarized their recent trip to Upper Egypt. Yubi had taken maybe a thousand pictures posing before Abu Simbel, licking a ram’s horn in Karnak, or ogling Ramses II’s frown while hugging his giant stone legs. As for Hector, he didn’t like Luxor very much. The barefoot children hounding him and his girlfriend with their “Give me a camera!” and “Give me money!” demands. The garbage piled up in close proximity to the great temples. The shameless men who devoured Yubi’s bare arms and legs with their eyes. The tour guide’s bad English. The waiters and boatmen demanding their baksheesh with the audacity of pirates. And Yubi’s indifference to all of it.

Following their return, she buried herself in Egyptian music and drama. And she worked as an English tutor at St Mark’s Cathedral in Abbassiya on Fridays. She often invited some of her students over, and she let them teach her all the juicy Egyptian expressions and recipes. She was happy. She told Hector “I love you” five times a day.

“Does she smoke or drink?”

“Doesn’t even let me bring beer in.”

“She’s perfect, Hec.”

“Yeah, isn’t she?”

They shared a small joint. Afghani hash, the real deal. Fortunately, Ernest’s apartment was close to the Zamalek hostel. He lived on the eleventh floor of a tower known as Metro Tower, named after a Metro supermarket on its ground floor. Hector would come here and toke whenever his schedule—and Yubi—allowed.

Hector passed the joint to Ernest, then relaxed and crossed his ankles on the table.

“What’s the problem?” Ernest said, flipping through the channels.

“Who said there was one?”

“You look kinda obtuse.”

“I’m just bored,” Hector said.

“You can take your woman on another trip.”

“Can’t afford it.”

“You’re a professor and professors travel for free, Hec. Don’t give me that.”

“I’m still a novice at AIMES. They won’t let me go anywhere. No conferences, no nothing. I’m stuck here with you.”

“Grow some balls and go talk to your boss.”

Hector changed the subject. “What’s up with you? You don’t look all right.”

“You’ve rubbed it off on me.”

“Let’s go out.” It was a warm and sunny day in January, something a Canadian would never fail to appreciate. “Let’s go visit the Pyramids.”

“Hah. Last time they accused me of idolatry. Not sure what they’ll come up with this time.”

Hector had totally forgotten. In the early stages of their friendship, the CIA had tasked Hector with taking bin Hakam’s son to explore Cairo. So Hector contracted a local guide, who took them to the Giza Pyramids. And there, Ernest had lost his senses: He jumped over the barricade, pawed the Sphinx, and dropped on his knees and yelled to the Almighty God thanking Him for human creativity. They were promptly arrested by the Egyptian Tourism Police.

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