“As a famous American psychopathic renegade police officer once said, ‘A man’s gotta Imow his limitations,’ ” Baris said with a smile. His love for American cop movies and westerns—the more violent the better—was well known throughout Cairo. “I am content and secure in the knowledge that I have given good, sound advice to many government officials over the years, and I believe I have served God and made Egypt a better place for it. That is enough for me.” He paused, studying Susan carefully, then asked, “What is it you seek, Sekhmet?”

Susan Salaam did not respond for several moments, and Baris was surprised to see a faint smile on her lips when she finally replied, “Am I wrong for saying ‘I would like to see Zuwayy and al-Khan dead’?” Baris did not return the smile, so hers dimmed and her exotic eyes narrowed. “The truth, my old friend?” Baris nodded, and she looked away and nodded as well. “I’m happy to be alive. I’m glad I wasn’t killed. And so I think that perhaps God had a reason for not wishing me dead. I feel there is something more I must do.” Susan shook her head, staring off into space as if reading a newspaper headline from a great distance. She paused, then looked at the retired general. He swallowed as he saw something ominous in her dark almond-shaped eye and full yet innocent lips. “Yes. There is work to be done. You and my husband had plans to restore Egypt to its rightful place as leader of the Mediterranean nations and of the Arab world. I want to continue your goals.”

“My dear, the concept of a united Arab world is a dream, nothing more,” Baris said, chuckling despite the strange prickly sensation he felt on the back of his neck. “Don’t let the apparent successes of pretentious nutcases like Zuwayy or opportunistic zealots like al-Khan cloud your thinking. The people of Libya don’t believe Zuwayy is a descendant of a desert king, and no modem Egyptian will ever believe a man is invested with the power of the gods to rule their land. The Pharaohs are dead, and long may it stay that way.” He touched Susan’s hand, breaking her reverie, and smiled with relief when she smiled at him. “Even though you are a thousand times lovelier than all of Hollywood’s Cleopatras put together, Sekhmet, don’t ever be deluded into thinking the world will tolerate an Arab empire.”

Susan’s smile dimmed as she reached up and touched her eyepatch, then ran her fingers down the left side of her face and left arm, gently tracing the scars and the pain that outlined them under all the bandages. “No one will ever think I am as beautiful as Cleopatra. Zuwayy’s and al- Khan’s treachery has seen to that.”

“Don’t let revenge and hatred fester inside you,” Baris warned her. “Keep a clear head. Understand?”

“Yes, General.”