Abrams slid in the back next to Matt and Tania.

Matt grinned. “That was pretty straightforward.”

Adira stopped her conversation with the driver and half turned. “Our documentation is good, but there will be GID watching – there always are.”

“GID?” Matt asked.

“Egyptian secret service – the General Intelligence Directorate.” She fully turned in her seat, resting her arm on its back. “But they might not be the biggest problem we have. She looked at Abrams. “Your contact, Dr Hussein ben Albadi, has been slaughtered, along with all of his house staff.”

Abrams went red, before he punched down hard on his thigh. “Goddamnittohell. Was it the terrorists?”

Adira’s face was expressionless. “No, it seems he was tortured, and the work was carried out with far too much skill for simple barbarians.” Her eyes were level as gun barrels. “I assume he knew everything that you do. So now…”

“They do,” Abrams finished.

“Except for this last part,” Matt said. “He only knew we wanted to get to Pharos, and what we were coming to find, not how we were going to get here. They can’t possibly know about you.”

Adira’s face betrayed nothing. “We must assume that whoever tortured Albadi is already here.” She looked at each of their faces. “They are playing hard. If they take one of us, we can expect the same sort of interrogation treatment – vicious. Better to be dead.”

“Do you know who it was? Did they leave any clues?” Abrams asked.

She shook her head. “None, but we do not think they were part of any militia. Like I said, these people were very skilled at what they did and the techniques they used were very precise – surgical almost. It may mean they are Westerners. With luck, perhaps we can spot them before they spot us.”

*

It was late, eleven-thirty pm, when their car pulled into Matrouh Road, and eventually stopped out front of a large sprawling building. Faded letters spelled out the name Aida on the façade.

Adira stepped from the car, looking up and down the street. Matt, Abrams and Tania followed her out, stretching. “The Aida hotel,” she said, turning to them. “Old, but just down a single road to the water and the site of Pharos Island.” She shrugged. “Better than some, but not so good as to attract attention – so don’t be disappointed by its rundown appearance.”

“We’re not here on holiday,” Abrams said.

“That’s not what my passport says,” Matt said. “I know we’re not, but best to at least look like it.”

Adira nodded. “I have arranged accommodation for a week. Hopefully, we’ll be gone in a few days.”

Matt waved as Andy and Hartogg’s car pulled in slowly beside them. “That poses the obvious question – when do we call it quits if we don’t turn anything up? Adira’s week? Longer?”

“Can’t answer that, Matt,” Abrams said. “Not until we’ve at least had a look at what it is we’re dealing with.” He acknowledged Hartogg and then turned to Adira. “What about the equipment?”