BlackMail
: : Summary : : Even the best laid plans go awry. Rick's past catches up with him and he is forced to makea decision which could ruin everything.
"God, I'm sick of the heat in this place!" thought O'Connell as he pushed his way through the crowded Cairo backstreets.
Six years of sand and camel stench had been more than enough, and now he at last had the means to get out. Evelyn was
eager to follow his lead. She was still unsettled by their recent experiences, and the nightmares continued to plague her
sleep. England was her choice of refuge, but he cared little one way or the other, so long as she found peace and he got
to leave Egypt!
Just ahead of him an excited crowd was gathering around something happening in the middle of the road. He could hear
the jeering and occassionaly several onlookers were pushed backwards by a force which he couldn't see. He guessed it
was a street fight by the size of the crowd it was drawing and groaned his frustration. There was no way to get around this
without going through it and he'd be damned if he was going to re-trace his steps and go the long way to get to the Fort.
"Wonder how big the basket of oranges was this time?" he mused sarcastically. These brawls were usually always about
the street vendors battered wares.
Approaching the ruckus, he stretched on his toes to see over the crowd and realized this was not your average marketplace
dispute. Two drunken men staggered about comically lunging at each other, doing more damage to the crowd than to
themselves. One was just your average, everyday Casbah elbow bender, but he was shocked to recognize the other man as
Legionnaire George Hawker. O'Connell watched the fray, not through interest, but more that he was amazed the boy was still
alive! Rick knew Hawker as a first year recruit when his Regiment was attacked at Hamunaptra; and had thought himself to
be the only surviver of the raid. Obviously not!
Amazement aside, he could ill afford to be standing about watching. It wouldn't be long before someone from Hawker's
current Regiment was altered to the altercation and arrive to drag him off to discipline him. The last thing O'Connell needed
right now was to be recognized by the French Foreign Legion!
Too late! Three Legion personnel stepped in to break up the fight. The civilian was simply pushed back into the crowd,
landing heavily on his back. Hawker, however, was manhandled by two of the soldiers and brought to his feet. O'Connell
couldn't move left or right as the crowd had remained to view the unfortunate Hawker being dragged off. He tried side
stepping his way to the curb but it was a slow process. Glancing back to the Legionnaires he recognised the third man as
his hated first commanding officer Lieutenant-Colonel Verdi, still over weight and still odious. He turned his head away
and continued his labored escape, but a chill shot down the American's spine on hearing Verdi shout an order to his Officers
and he felt the crowd disperse from around him. If nothing else, he now had the space to run, but it was all in vain, within
moments he was brought down visciously and his face pushed hard into the road. Again the crowd circled in to watch as
Verdi stepped up and delivered an order in French. The Officer's released their hold on Rick and he lifted his head to spit the
dirt from his mouth.
"Capitaine O'Connell" came the thick and ridiculing Italian accent of Verdi. "It has indeed been a long time!"
: : Home : : Back to Archive : : Chapter Two : :