Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

MADELINE

"Move!" Madeline hissed, trying to squeeze past him only for him to block her way, holding up his hands in almost a frantic manner.

"Wait a second," the man began. "What's your name? I saw you earlier today, and it's weird that we've run into each other again like this. Wait, you're not trying to sell me something also – are you? Was head-butting me a ploy to get me to buy a souvenir?"

"What are you talking about?" she said in frustration, pushing him to the side so she could scoot past him. "Move, you big lummox, and let me out."

"DR. SMITH! Madeline! We need to talk – now!"

And Madeline cursed under her breath in a panic, looking at the man before her in terror. She was leaving her post before the end of the day, and with his unexpected appearance in her space, she knew deep down inside that he had to know something was up .

"What's wrong?" the stranger said, causing her to look at him again – and the words just poured from somewhere inside before she could stop them.

"I need your help," she whispered, nearly begging as she heard Travis getting closer, hollering her name again. She looked over her shoulder behind her blindly, reaching for him and hoping he understood. "I'll explain, I just can't be alone with him or…"

"That's all you needed to say," the stranger growled protectively, pushing her backward into the tunnel. She almost began to fight at him, only to see him emerge and stand up straight, putting her directly behind him.

Uh, hello?

Okay, big ol' protector streak? Thank you, God. I owe you big for this scored point! Madeline thought in disbelief as Travis entered the Grand Gallery a second later. A few other tourists were taking photos of the walls, the decorated ceilings, and each other in front of the reliefs.

"Madeline, what is going on?" Travis barked hotly. "We need to talk – privately."

"You're not going anywhere with Madeline," the man before her interrupted before she could say a thing – and she nearly melted into his back, clutching at his arm and shoulder to remain standing. "She's with me – and who are you?"

Score two for Hotty McHotness!

"I'm her boss, and she's supposed to be working."

"She is. I surprised her at work – right, Madeline?"

Travis's eyes landed on her silently, and the man protecting her slid to the right slightly, blocking his view. Instead of stepping forward, she pretended like she was cowering and reached into the neckline of her shirt, adjusting the journal slightly before tucking the camera strap that was dangling out of her pocket, inside.

"She needs to get back to her station – and you need to leave. If you've got something personal, it needs to happen on your own time after work hours."

"Why? I'm a paying customer and have my ticket right here."

"Madeline, I'm going to need you to…"

"Uh, if it's work – you can call her Dr. Smith like you did not two minutes ago," the stranger growled hotly, boldly putting her boss in his place. "Now I need a moment alone with Madeline – and I think my twenty-dollar pass should cover a five-minute break for your employee. Don't you?"

Score three, she thought and then looked up at the stranger defending her for the first time. Calling him ‘Hotty McHotness' was right on the spot from what she could see and what she remembered from a distance.

The man's profile was set, determined, as he stood between her and Travis. He didn't seem angry or indifferent. It was more of a ‘here's the facts, do with it what you want' kind of stance… and it was incredible. She'd never had anyone stand up for her before like this!

"Dr. Hatt, give me just a moment, please," Madeline said quietly, hanging onto the stranger's arm – and felt it tense.

"Be quick about it," Travis said as people walked between the two men, leaving the pyramid and fewer flowed into the room from the pathway they'd just emerged from. The crowds were thinning out, and that wasn't good. She did not want to be here alone with Travis, nor anyone else.

She moved to take the stranger's hand, pulling him away so they could talk and noticed he didn' t fight her. As they walked into the adjoining chamber as far from Travis as she could get – and saw the stranger start to put his hand on the wall beside her head.

"Don't do that," she hissed under her breath as he winced.

"Sorry," he immediately apologized.

"It's the oils on your hands; it ruins the reliefs, and there's enough damage already from time and exposure," she volunteered, looking up at him. Now was not the time to gawk or get all flustered by a good-looking man.

She needed to think – and quickly!

"What's going on? You need help to get away from him?"

"I need to get to the consulate immediately," she whispered in a hushed voice and saw him tense visibly.

"Why?" he drawled tightly. "Have you broken the law?"

"No, but he has!" she blurted out quietly. "I need to get out of here, and I think he knows that I know all about it. I don't know if anyone else knows, but…"

"Shhh," he interrupted softly. "Lower your voice and stay calm, okay? Let's focus on how to get you out of here."

"You believe me?"

"Why wouldn't I? You haven't given me a reason not to, and I'm assuming you're an American asking for help, for refuge. Am I correct?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll help you."

"It's as simple as that?" she breathed, feeling tears of relief sting her eyes at the conviction in his eyes. He was truly offering to help her to safety and hesitated. "What do you want?"

"What do you mean?"

"People aren't nice like this, so what is it you want?"

"Dr. Smith, time's up," Travis called out in the distance, and Madeline looked around, realizing that the tomb was emptying quickly. A bolt of panic hit her as she touched the stranger's arm again, clutching it.

"We've got to go," she said urgently. "We can't be here after it closes if what I think has happened – actually did."

"We're getting out of here, I promise," he took her hand and turned around to face the entryway to the tomb where they were now trapped. There was only one way in or out and Travis was blocking the door – with another man at his side.

"What the…" the stranger began in a shocked whisper and sent chills down her spine as the two of them stared at them.

"You know him?" Travis began, looking at the other man – who actually waved like some imbecile at ‘ Hotty McHotness' . "What is going on, Ahmed?"

Madeline swore in that moment if they got out of there, she was going to get her hero's name, address, and phone number. This man was getting a birthday card, and Christmas presents until he was a thousand years old for this act of bravery in her book.

"Yeah, Ahmed," ‘Hotty' questioned flatly, and something in his tone got her attention as she stopped fidgeting and looked between them warily. "I don't see a need for a hat or a camel in here… my friend."

"Wait. You know him, too?" she started and heard Travis's laugh.

"You fleeced him? Okay, now that is funny."

"My friend…" the man named Ahmed began, holding out his hands placatingly as he gave them a wide smile that di dn't reach his eyes. "Do you need a camel ride back to the gate? Eh?"

"You know I'm out of cash," her hero grumbled between gritted teeth. "What is going on?"

"Something you should not be involved with," Ahmed answered smoothly and looked at Travis. "Do they both know?"

"Know… what?"

"He doesn't know anything," Madeline blurted out, trying to step around her protector, suddenly desperately afraid. "This is my husband, and he just showed up saying that we were going to renew our vows."

"Oh, come off of it, Maddie… there's no way you've been married a year, because we were dating six months ago, remember?"

"It's Dr. Smith," ‘Hotty' snapped, yanking her behind him again before she could comment on the shortened nickname. "And it's been one month, not that it's any of your business."

"So why is she going by ‘Smith' still?" Travis gloated. "My wife wouldn't be using her maiden name."

"Because she's stubborn and thinks it will help her somehow," the man snapped at Travis and Ahmed – and even Madeline blinked because it was a perfect comeback.

She was actually pretty stubborn about a few things, and anyone who knew her would think that. She only used a certain brand of toothpaste, insisted on doing things a certain way, and was a creature of habit.

"Enough of this," Travis snapped, throwing his hands up in the air. "Madeline, I need your notes and camera – everything you've got – oh, and you're fired for not doing your job."

"What…?" she stared in disbelief at the ne rve of the man – only to have ‘Hotty' shove her back against the wall, glaring at her.

"Enough, wife ," he snapped, looking at her warily. His golden-brown eyes searched hers, almost like he was trying to communicate something between them. "Where are your things?"

"I left them on the scaffolding," she whispered, looking down at her blouse and saw his eyes drop as he stiffened.

The corner of her journal was poking through her linen shirt. To her disbelief, the stranger leaned forward, kissed her on the side of her lips, and his hand pressed against the journal trying to hide it.

It's okay, he mouthed to her, his eyes holding hers.

"She left it on the scaffolding?" Travis chuckled. "Seriously? What are you – na?ve ? It's not like you can lock the doors on the pyramids and I know for a fact that the guards don't watch all four corners at once, or Ahmed here wouldn't have been able to…" and then he pinched his lips together as the Egyptian drew a gun quietly, pressing it to Travis's side.

"Enough, my friend," Ahmed instructed in the same friendly, placating voice that was laced with steel. Madeline couldn't help but wonder if she was about to get shot after Travis because her things were not on the scaffold and someone only had to climb up to notice that. "So you two are married?"

"Yes," they answered in unison.

"What religion are you?" Ahmed continued, smirking.

"What does that matter?" Travis blurted out.

"Catholic," both answered and looked at each other in surprise, causing Ahmed to let out a small, knowing laugh as he waved the gun at ‘Hotty'. "What is your given name, my friend? "

"None of your business."

Ahmed pulled back the hammer on the gun and pointed at him again.

"Your name?"

"Lieutenant Noah Bennington, United States Navy… my friend ," ‘Hotty' snapped in frustration. "I'm assigned to the carrier that is currently in port and I can tell you for a fact that you do not want to do this."

"Well, I just love a happy couple," Ahmed said smoothly, smiling at them. "You'll have to forgive me if I'm a bit of a romantic."

"What is going on?" Travis interrupted again – and Madeline was pretty sure that her boss was walking a thin line with this very unassuming looking man who held the gun right now.

"Go get the evidence," Ahmed ordered Travis, and she felt Noah tense as the other man quickly walked off.

Yup. They both knew that she had everything on her.

"If it's there, then you are both free to go celebrate your marriage… and if it's not?" Madeline swallowed as Ahmed paused dramatically, waving the gun in a nonchalant manner. "Then we need to figure out how to squeeze your birthday, marriage, and date of death on one grave."

And Madeline started as Noah leaped forward to get the gun – only to hear it fire as it clattered to the ground. She could hear Travis yelling and coming up the passage, moving toward the gun on the floor only to hear a very loud click near the temple of her head.

Madeline froze – and met Noah's eyes.

She did not have to look to her side to know that someone had snuck up on the both of them and was holding a gun at her head. She swallowed, holding herself tightly, and stood there bravely as possible knowing she could die at any moment and saw Noah put up his hands slowly, releasing Ahmed.

The Egyptian clicked his tongue several times, looking at Madeline as he picked up the gun that lay on the ground two feet from her. He stood up and addressed Noah.

"I liked you, my friend," Ahmed began and put the gun directly to Noah's forehead. "Now, I'm going to ask you one more time – where are the documents."

"I have them," Madeline whispered tearfully and saw Noah's sharp glance, right before Ahmed hit him in the temple with the butt of the gun. Her hero winced, bent over to clutch his head, and then went down like a ton of bricks as Ahmed struck him again.

He turned to her and outstretched a hand, curling his fingers.

"Give them to me now."