The Lost Apostles Read Online Free PDF Page A

to gain access to its .50 caliber machine guns and floodlights.
    “That is a good question,” the thickly accented voice shouted. “You have a quick wit.”
    “Perhaps we made a mistake,” Dixie Lou said. “We didn’t understand that you only want to be friendly. That is true, isn’t it?”
    “We desire only to offer assistance to you, in case any of you might be injured. We saw your aircraft having trouble as you came down. It is difficult to fly in a storm.”
    “I’m sorry for the misunderstanding.”
    “Some of your people wear strange robes,” the voice said. “Very unsuitable for the desert, even at this time of year. Too heavy.”
    “Why don’t you come out where we can see you?” Dixie Lou demanded. Alex heard her crawling along the sand.
    “Why do you come here wearing strange robes?” the voice asked. “What tribe are you?”
    “No tribe, and we didn’t intend to land here. The storm forced us down.”
    “But the storm is past, and it would be safe to fly away now. Your behavior is most peculiar.”
    “We’re not quite ready to go.” Dixie Lou looked around, trying to find the speaker’s location.
    “Problems with your sophisticated equipment?”
    “Just need to check the flight systems for safety.”
    “And the reason you have camouflaged everything, making you invisible from a distance? We watched you land, and saw you vanish a short time afterward—until we approached to within a few meters, close enough to see that you were still there. Are you hiding from someone?”
    “Of course not. Camouflage is just a secondary feature of the electronic veiling system we activated around the aircraft, to protect them from bad weather, because windblown sand can cause a lot of damage. As for the camouflaged tents, they are tied into the system, too.”
    “I see,” the woman said, but Alex wasn’t certain if she believed his mother, whose lie about weather protection seemed obvious. But only to a westerner, perhaps, he told himself. This Arab might not be able to tell.
    Alex approached the she-apostles’ tent, wanting to comfort the children inside, who were fussing and crying. Through the open doorway he saw the shadowy outlines of small shapes lying and sitting in air-cribs. Suddenly a guard stepped forward, and forced him away. Alex moved off to one side, but the guard didn’t leave.
    “You have many children here,” the Arab voice said, out in the darkness. “We do not wish to harm them.”
    “Come out where I can see you,” Dixie Lou said. “We’ll talk.”
    Alex heard a flurry of movement behind Dixie Lou, and a muffled voice said, “We’re right behind you.” A lantern went on, and Alex saw three intruders behind his mother.
    Dixie Lou whirled, but before she could get to her weapon, a robed woman put her in a headlock and jammed a knife against her throat. A veil covered the lower portion of the woman’s face, revealing only her eyes. Two smaller, hooded shapes stood with her. They lit another lantern, which showed that they were boys holding carbines.
    “Permit me to introduce myself,” the woman said. “I am Malia Ali Khan. And you?”
    Dixie Lou didn’t respond.
    “Tell your guards to toss their weapons on the ground,” Malia said, in her heavily accented English. She was much taller than Dixie Lou.
    “Do it!” the Chairwoman shouted. In the dim light, Alex saw rage and indignation on her face.
    Guns and rifles thudded onto the sand.
    “And the one in your pocket,” the tall woman demanded.
    Dixie Lou added it to the others, and the knife was withdrawn from her throat.
    “My English is not so good,” Malia said. “But I suspect it is better than your Arabic. We are Bedouin, from a village just over there.” She pointed across the sand.
    Alex saw Dixie Lou staring at the weapons on the sand, and guessed she was trying to estimate how many more people were hiding in the shadows, behind waves in the sand. The boys had an air of deadly maturity about them, as