But there was one specific apportionment amongst the censorship laws that Dalilah remembered reading about years before while still in college.  It was a statute that had stood out to her as feeling particularly egregious, highlighting the chasm of inequality between the people and their government.

Dalilah found it and reread it, quickly remembering why it had stuck out—a provision in Article 43, allowing regions or territories owned by political leaders, religious leaders, dignitaries or those deemed consubstantial.

Her breathing slowed as she read.

… protections of leaders, dignitaries and consubstantial from all threats and in all forms, be it land, sea or air.

There it was.  The answer she had been searching for.  An explanation of why Mido Saad had not incorporated those two properties.  Because if they were still held in his name as a person or a consubstantial, no one could come near him.  In other words, both areas were officially recognized by Egyptian law as protected and sovereign and therefore illegal to encroach, duly enforced by the Arab Republic of Egypt.  Sovereign land which would also be considered no-fly zones.

Dalilah Baraka had just stepped back from her kitchen table in silence, staring at the screen when she heard a loud knock.

Her first glance was upstairs until she realized the sound had come from the front of the house.  Her brow slowly furrowed, and she checked her watch, walking gingerly from her kitchen into the family room.

She continued until slowing to a stop just a few meters from the front door.

It came again.  This time several louder knocks.

Baffled, her brow grew tighter.

Who would be knocking at this hour?

Dalilah inched forward, now within two meters of the door, standing and waiting in silence.

Nervously, she moved forward within reach of the front window and peeled one edge of the heavy curtain away, revealing a small sliver of darkened window.

Leaning forward, she peered out through the glass and spotted something on the street in front—a large white vehicle.

She stared for a moment before moving, still puzzled and raising a hand to shield the interior glare upon the glass.

The vehicle’s headlights were on, facing away from the house, and she thought she could see wisps of exhaust at the rear indicating the truck’s engine was running.

The knocking came again.  Dalilah quickly checked the door to ensure the lock was engaged.

“Who… is it?” she called.

Someone spoke faintly from the other side, but the words were unintelligible.

“Who?” she repeated louder.

Again came a response she could not quite make out.

***

Mona Baraka awoke on a stiff vinyl surface and squinted as she looked around.  She pushed herself up, trying to recollect where she was.

It was the couch in Omar’s office, and she’d been startled awake by something outside his office door, like someone moving around.