The Exodus Quest

IV

Naguib went yawning into the kitchen, mouth dry, eyes gluey, eager for his first glass of morning chai. His wife didn't even look around, she was so riveted by her TV.

'What is it?' he asked.

'Some Westerners were kidnapped in Assiut last night. Television people. They say they were filming in Amarna yesterday. Did you see them?'

'No.'

'Apparently this woman is the one who helped find Alexander's tomb. Remember that press conference with the secretary general and that other man?'

'The one you thought so handsome?'

Yasmine blushed. 'I only said he looked nice.'

'What have they been saying?'

'Just that their car was found burned out in Assiut, that some poor half-blind man was paid to take this DVD into the television station. They've been playing it non-stop. Apparently the kidnappers are demanding the release of those people arrested for the rape and murder of those two girls.'

Naguib frowned. 'Terrorists want rapists and murderers released?'

'They say they're not guilty.'

'Even so.'

'That poor young woman!' said Yasmine. 'How is she holding herself together?'

Naguib put a hand on his wife's shoulder. The video was playing in a loop, screen-in-screen, so he could see the hostages' terrible anxiety, the freely bleeding cut on the man's cheek, the uplighting making strange shadows from their features, while the commentators took turns to deplore the ignominy this brought upon their nation, debating the steps their government would take. He too found it difficult to look away, despite his need to get to the office, clear his paperwork, buy himself some time to go see the local ghaffirs. But unlike his wife, it wasn't fellow feeling that kept him riveted. It was something else. His policeman's instincts were quivering deep inside. He just couldn't work out why.