Papyrus: A Thriller by John Oehler

Author:John Oehler [Oehler, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CreateSpace
Published: 2013-12-29T03:00:00+00:00

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In a concrete room on the third floor of a concrete building in central Khartoum, Rika listened with half an ear as David spoke of sensors, data quality, and groundwater resources to six Sudanese men seated around a long table. It was a sham. David had no desire for a contract, and neither the Ambassador nor the Agriculture Minister was even present. Which was why she let her mind drift back to David’s room last night. If someone really was eavesdropping, he’d gotten an earful.

The first time was pure animal savagery. She’d even bitten his shoulder. In the panting aftermath, they fell asleep still coupled. Then some time before dawn, he’d kissed her awake and made love to her so tenderly she almost cried, his mouth and his fingers suspending her over the abyss for an eternity before letting her fall. After that, she couldn’t sleep. Propped on an elbow, she watched him, listening to his gentle breathing. As daylight broke, she molded herself to his body, nuzzled him to consciousness, and took the lead this time, doing her best to suspend him as he’d done her. They crashed together in a mind-shattering impact that left her breathless. As they lay in each other’s arms, she knew their relationship had changed forever. But it had cost her, for she was now more vulnerable.

Scraping chairs jolted her from reverie as men rose from the table. Her watch showed 12:45. They’d been here three hours, after getting a late start because she and David had lost track of time in the shower.

General M’botou, the only one of the Sudanese who’d bothered to introduce himself, strode around the table from his position at the far end, where a poster-sized photo of President Nimieri frowned at them from the wall. M’botou, a stout, short-haired man with tribal scars on his cheeks and the countenance of a Cape Buffalo, wore starched camouflage fatigues and a red beret. “Mr. Chamberlain, two of us will accept your offer of a demonstration flight. I suggest two-thirty.”

“That will be fine, sir.”

Damn. Rika had hoped M’botou wouldn’t be interested, and she, David, and Blue could fly out of here without delay. It was bad enough that she didn’t trust the general, worse that his few glances at her brimmed with contempt. Sharia. A woman’s place was in the kitchen, the bedroom, or the nursery. Even foreign women should cover their heads with a scarf and isolate themselves from the men.

Screw him.

At least no one with a Hitler moustache had shown up at the meeting. And their minder had sat sullenly in their car during the ride from the hotel, suggesting there’d be no repercussions from her almost killing the soldier in the park.

“Umar.” M’botou beckoned the bespectacled fellow who’d asked most of the questions during the meeting and scribbled notes furiously as David answered. When the young man trotted up, notebook in hand, M’botou said to him, “Tell them what you need.”

Umar, who blinked almost constantly and carried three pens and a small slide rule in his shirt pocket, said, “Every instrument, we must see how it’s work.

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