Freedom Does Matter (Mercenaries Book 2) Read Online Free PDF Page A

her. “Have you found the records where the initial ownership dispute arose?”
    “Not yet,” Kevin said as he rifled through the sheaf of loose papers he was holding.
    “I got it, Beck. ‘Ere you go.” Derek handed her a third spiral bound book. “What I saw, no idea why anyone’d want the bloody place. All sand, no water. No oil, either.”
    As Beckie slid the book on to Hassan, Derek continued, “And Dan says the meeting will resume day after tomorrow, if that’s okay. So it still has a chance.” He laughed, but the gallows humor rang clear. “I’m excited to be there to see what ‘appens when they realize you’re a girl.”
    “That brings a thought,” she said. “Remind me to ask Sue about the best thing for me to wear. I’m thinking my bikini won’t do.”
    Hassan blanched as Willie said, “No flies on you.” Both he and Derek laughed.
    “I’m sure we can find you an outfit in one of the local stores,” Kevin said. “You want to talk to Sue now?”
    “No, I want to keep on this till Amun effendi has to leave. Egyptian land ownership law is just uncanny.” Hassan gave her a look, then smiled as she made a face at him. “Tell Sue I’m not gonna wear my camos. I didn’t even bring them.” She pulled Hassan and Willie back to Ian’s notes.

 

     
    Chapter Five
    Day Five - Cairo
     
    THE MORNING DAWNED EARLY. AND bright. Beckie looked at the clock; 5:35 glared back at her. As did the rising sun through the window she’d forgotten to draw the curtain over. I’ll bet it’ll be hot again, she thought. She rolled over and tried for a few more minutes of sleep.
    By six, she’d given up. By six-thirty, she was in the living room of the suite, wearing the dark blue trousers suit Sue and Dan had found her last evening. Even with a coat which fell to her knee, its suitability still gave her concern, but she put that aside as she enjoyed her coffee with a light snack of fruit and toast.
     
    Just before eight, Dan dropped her and Kevin at the door of the Cairo Trade Center while he and Derek parked the car. She looked up at the sand-colored building—matches everything I’ve seen so far—as Kevin held the door.
    After a quick ride in the elevator, Kevin led the way to the conference room. Following him, her shoes made a click-click as she crossed the white stone toward the dark brown—walnut?—table. She quelled her panic by studying the space. The walls and floor were marble. The table… She caught her breath as she realized Ian had been stretched out, had bled on this table. She breathed slowly to regain her calm. The table extended at least twenty feet away from the end she was approaching. From the doorway, she had thought it was almost that wide, but as she laid her gloved hand on the polished surface, she could see that it was less than half that. The edge was ornately carved with geometric patterns.
    Kevin touched her arm. “Dan’s bringing them up now. You okay?”
    “I am, thanks.” She retreated to lean against the wall, waiting.
    To avoid her nervousness for a brief minute more, Beckie studied the ceiling. Gilt outlined patterns mirrored those on the table, but without obvious significance. Since they selected this room, I’ll bet everything has some meaning. I’ll ask Hassan later. She glanced at the lawyer, seated to the right between her chair and Al Hosni’s. Willie would take the empty chair to her left.
    She brought her gaze to the Egyptians as they trooped in. All but one was male. The men, except for one, were dressed in western style. One of the men on the left hand side, the Sheikh, had chosen traditional Arabic attire, a robe— thobe , Dan had called it—in white. Half of the men wore a head-covering held in place by a circular ropelike agal .
    The two sheikhs were about the same height; she had to look up to their eyes, but not as far as with Ian. The two men gave her a glance, and as Beckie smiled, passed on to the servers. Al Hosni was perhaps a half-inch