"I..." the naked woman trailed off as her eyes went wide.

    Collette spun around and dropped to the floor as another guard opened the door.  She grabbed her gun and fired two rounds into the guards chest.  He lurched and was shoved backwards by the force of the bullets slamming into his chest.    His hands flew to his face as he fell to the ground.  He was dead. 

    The young woman screamed. 

    Collette stood up and continued untying the woman.   "Don't scream," Collette said, trying to calm the hysterical woman who was thrashing with her free now free left hand.  "Don't scream. You'll draw more guards to us."

    That seemed to reach her and she instantly grew silent.  Her cheeks were wet with her tears. 

    Collette finished untying her, "now get some clothes and get out of here."

    The woman climbed slowly from the bed.  Her knees were shaking and she was sobbing quietly.  She staggered to the dresser and pulled a pair of men's shorts and a T-shirt free.  She drew them on quickly and ran from the house with only a lone backwards glance to her rescuer.  She didn't even say "thank you," she just ran away, taking the stairs two and three at a time.  She ran from the house without looking back; Collette had delivered her to freedom.

    Collette left the room and crossed the hall to the next closed door.  She pushed the door open and stared into a linen closet.  Towels and sheets, blankets and wash cloths sat folded neatly on the shelves that lined the closet.  Collette turned around and shut the closet door. 

    She continued to the next door and pushed it open slowly.  Another bedroom stood before her.  She inched into the room.  She peered under the bed and found it empty.  She opened the closet door and discovered it to be empty as well.  She worked her way from the room and once again entered the hallway. 

    At the end of the hallway the door opened to a set of stairs that descended into darkness.  Collette's brow furrowed, she had not seen any more of the house during her trip through the lower reaches of the mansion, but still, here was another stair case.  She looked at it and then took a slow step backwards.  She wanted to check the remaining two rooms prior to ascending the stairs behind her or descending the stairs before her.

    She took another step backwards and turned towards one of the last two doors closed to her gaze.  She opened the first one and found an empty bedroom with an empty closet.  The room was totally void of furniture and clothes.  It was a barren room; as if it had not been assigned to anybody yet.  There was nothing to indicate that it had ever been used.

    She spun around made her way to the final door on this floor.  Or, she thought as she glanced at the stairway that descended lower, the last door that she knows of on this floor.  She opened the door slowly.  It was another bedroom.  A small, twin waterbed sat in the middle of the room with a dark mahogany night stand next to it.  A large dresser sat opposite the closed closet doors.  Collette looked into the closet and found it, like the rest of the room, empty.    She made her way back to the hallway and pondered the two stairwells.  Up or down? 

    She opted for down.

    Collette checkedfor a light switch.  She found it and then hesitated; it would illuminate her to whoever may be waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs.  Instead, she stepped onto the first step and shut the door behind her.  The stairs were dark and now she and whoever may be waiting for her were at the same disadvantage.  She, however, did not see it as a disadvantage; she had been in some dark places before.  She sat down on the top step and waited; listening for any sounds.

    She heard the house creak and groan.  And she heard shuffling feet.  Somebody was coming.  She quietly inched to her left; hugging the wall next to her body.  The shuffling grew louder.  She raised her weapon and waited.  She listened as the sounds of somebody approaching grew louder. 

    The stairs creaked.

    Collette fired twice.  A thump followed and then silence. 

    Still she waited.  Five minutes passed and still there were no further sounds.  She felt secure that she was alone on the stairs and the room below her.  Collette stood up and flipped the light switch.  A young boy, no more than ten lay dead on the stairs.  A knife was lying just beyond his outstretched hand, having falling from his fingers when he fell against the stairs.

   Collette shook her head.  What kind of man would hire children to do his bidding, especially when that bidding was murder?  The word that came to her mind was "monster."  She slowly descended the stairs, stepping over the dead boy and the growing pool of blood beneath him.  The stairs stopped in a small, square room.  Three doors, one on each of the walls that made up the room, the stairs on the fourth wall.  All three doors were closed.  Of course, Collette reasoned. 

    The room was furnished with two chairs with a small table between them.  On the table were some local magazines that Collette had never heard of.  They were in Egyptian with one or two in German.  The room was empty.  She turned left and made her way cautiously to the door along that wall.  Why were these rooms here? she wondered.  Why did Mr. Green have to ascend a set of stairs to then descend another set into this new area?  Was it simply for security? 

    She opened the door and stared into another set of stairs.  The stairs ended in a hallway that stretched outward.  She could only see about three feet before the ceiling blocked her vision.  Strange, she thought, very strange.  She shut the door, deciding to save the stairs for later.  She crossed the room and made her way to the door opposite the stairs that had deposited her in this room.

   She opened the door.  A large room greeted her.  There were four rows of chairs, six chairs to a row with a small aisle running between the six chairs.  The chairs were covered with dark leather.  The chairs faced a huge white screen. Black speakers hung from the walls and encircled the room.  The room was a theater and would serve as a serious entertainment room.  There were no guards in the room that she could see.  She made a quick tour of the room to verify what she already knew to be true; the room was empty.

    She left the room and made her way to the only door from this room that she had not entered. She opened the door and was not surprised to find a huge closet of electronics.  She reasoned, correctly, that the electronics were the controls for the theater she had already checked.  From here the sounds and sights could be controlled.  She saw two VCR's and a DVD player as well as a normal projector hooked to an electronic device that would convert the film to a digital image for display in the theater.  It was quite the set up.

    Collette shut the door and made her way to the stairs.  She took a deep breath.  She paused to reload her gun, not liking to have any bullets missing whenever she was going into a dangerous situation.  Slowly, the gun leading her like a dog led the person walking it, she descended the stairs.  The walls were painted a dull gray and the floor tiled in an ugly green color.  She made her way into the hallway.  The hallway was ten feet long and ended at another lone door.

    Collette stopped.  There was danger behind that door.  She could feel it. 

    "Shit," she said.

    She stared at the door, trying to decide what to do.  She knew that she had to get beyond this door.  The location of this room, under the house, after having to ascend one set of stairs and then descend two.  This was an important part of the house and she had to make it past this door.  And that explained the danger logically.  The hair on the nape of her neck explained the danger with her sharply attuned senses.  There was danger beyond the door. 

   Collette dropped to the floor, lying flat on the green tile.  She reached up and slowly turned the door knob.  Bullets flew, pieces of the door exploded outward and rained down on her prone body.  She released the door knob and rolled to the side of the hallway.  Bullets continued to burst through the door, flying over her head and into the walls around her.  Collette shifted around and faced the door, holding her gun firmly in her hands.

    The bullets stopped.

    Collette lay still; waiting for movement. She said nothing, forcing her breathing to be slow and even. 

    She heard whispers beyond the door.  "...dead... ...know, we could... ...yes...."

    Still she waited.

    The door opened and two men emerged.  Their eyes went wide as Collette shot round after round into the two men.  They fell to the ground, both of them dead.  Collette scurried backwards, pushing with her feet as she backed along the floor on her back, keeping her gun pointed towards the open and broken door.  Another man appeared and Collette fired one round into his face, killing him instantly.  The third man fell atop the other two, a large pool of blood growing larger on the green tiled floor. 

    Collette suddenly felt safer.  The room beyond now felt empty.  With a smile, Collette climbed to her feet.  She inched her way along the hallway, her back pressed against the wall.  She stepped into the room.  A large, wooden desk dominated the room.  Filing cabinets lined the room to her left and a closed door led from the room to her right.  Two leather chairs sat opposite the desk while a third chair sat behind the desk as if awaiting its master.   Collette checked under the desk, just to be sure the room was empty.  It was.

    Collette made her way to the closed door.  She waited behind the door, listening for the sound of movement.  She heard nothing but a vague whistling.  Her face furrowed into a frown as she tried to identify the sound.  She could not place it; it sounded vaguely like wind only more stronger and more isolated.  With a deep breath, Collette opened the door.

    A walkway appeared, carved into solid stone.  The hallway was underground, below the surface of the Egyptian sand.  Bare bulbs hung from the ceiling. It looked like a mine shaft, makeshift and shoddy.  Collette entered the chiseled hallway.  The whistling sound was louder now and Collette felt a cool breeze caress her face.  She walked down the hallway, the path opening into a huge underground cave.

    Collette stood at the top of the cave, the cavern spilling beneath her.  The cave was easily five hundred feet across and Collette could not see the end of it.  The wind was whistling from her right and her eyes spotted a small underground river.  Two powerboats sat tied to a wooden dock with two empty berths sitting before them.   Her prey, she reasoned, had gotten away.  "Shit," she said.

    A bullet ricocheted off the wall behind her.

    Collette droppedto her knees. She had seen the flash of light from the barrel of the gun that had just been fired.  She spotted a large man hiding in one of the boats.  Collette dropped lower, offering a lower profile to the man below her.  She had the upper hand, her position offering a great view of the man while protecting her from his gaze.  Slowly, Collette raised her gun.  She waited and when the shot was clear, she fired. 

    The guard died quietly, the bullet piercing his heart. 

    Collette waited.  No motion or sound greeted her besides the whistling wind.  She climbed to her feet.  She knew without knowing that Geoffrey Green had taken one of the missing boats; had taken her package and spirited himself away as soon as some silent alarm had sounded when she had begun her assault.  Shit, she thought.  She made her way down the stairs that brought her to the base of the cave and over to the boats.  

    The underground river was filthy, the water an ugly brown color, like the color of Pepsi.  The river raced to her left with a light current.  The water had the faint smell of mildew.  The wind was stronger here, blowing in from her left, towards the direction the current was running.  There was an opening that way, allowing the wind to spill in and the water to flow out.  She climbed into a boat; the one without the dead body, and started the engine.  A tuft of smoke billowed from the back of the boat as the engine roared to life with a thunderous rumble.

    Collette untiedthe boat from the pier.  She put the boat in gear and slowly inched away from the pier.  With the boat clear of its moorings, she opened the throttle and motored quickly away from the pier, leaving the underground cave in her wake.  The wind raced against her face, her hair billowing behind her.  The smell of the fresh air helped against the smell of the river.  Her nose furrowed at the stench. 

    A faint light could be seen up ahead and Collette slowed the boat.  She had to duck as she left the cave and out into the Egyptian sun.  She was on a small tributary of the Nile, she reasoned.  There wasn't any other river in this part of Egypt.   She opened the throttle fully and raced along the river at the boat's top speed.  Sand raced by her on either side of the boat.  An occasionally man or woman or child stood along the bank of the river.  They waved as she passed.  Collette waved back without thinking.

    She continued to race along the river, looking for her prey.  The river widened and Collette cut the motor as the river forked.  "Fuck," she hissed.  She looked to both her left and right and arbitrarily chose the left path.  She didn't know for sure if that was the path that Geoff had taken but she knew it felt right.  Long ago she had learned to go with her hunches; they were seldom wrong.  She opened the throttle fully again and raced along the riverbank.

    Collette raced along the riverbank, steering the boat as the river turned and snaked its way through the desert.  The river continued to widen and twenty minutes after she left the cave, the tributary dumped into the main body of the Nile.  The river was full of boats and people.  Horses drank from the water as unkempt families bathed in the brown murkiness.  Once again she was left with a decision, left or right? 

    She turned right; she knew that to her left was the open expanse of the Mediterranean Sea.  She felt reasonably certain that her prey would attempt to evade her in the crowded river and that he would be wary of racing into the openness of the Mediterranean Sea.  Again, it was a hunch, and as before, she was certain that she was right.  

* * * * *

    Tap.  A single knock against the glass window.  Frank jerked to his left and looked into the muzzle of a gun.  He never heard the glass shatter or the gun fire.  Frank Majors, the man with the thick goatee and the piercing green eyes, died instantly as the bullet decimated his face.  His lifeless body fell forward against the steering wheel, bounced to the right, and lay motionless across the passenger seat. 

* * * * *

    Geoffrey Greentied his ran his boat onto the shore.  The boat lurched and he jumped free, nearly at a full run.  The briefcase in his hand was heavy but he barely noticed.  He was breathing heavily, not used to running, especially with such a large weight in his hands.  He could not believe how easily one woman had breached his security and how easily she was able to defeat his guards.  He knew she was behind him; could hear the whine of the boat's engine growing closer.

    "Shit," he muttered in German. 

    He ran.  He slipped on the sand, fell backwards down a small hill and struggled to his feet again.  He pulled himself up the hill and began running.  He was breathing heavily, his heart pounding.  Sweat stung his eyes.  Cursing, he slipped again.  The briefcase fell from his hands and rolled ten feet away.  He cursed again, picked up the valise, and began to run again.

    Behind him, the sound of Collette's boat grew louder.

* * * * *

    Collette drove her boat onto the sand, parking it next to Geoff's.  She jumped from the boat and followed the trail Geoff had made in the sand.  In her years of chasing prey, never had the trail been so easily spotted.  More often than not she had to use intuition and barely noticeable clues to give an educated guess as to where her prey was fleeing to.  Here it was shooting fish in a barrel. 

    She ran along Geoff's path, running quickly.  She had her gun with her, tucked away in the waistband of her pants. It was best, she knew, not to run through city streets with a weapon drawn unless absolutely necessary.  She ran after Geoff, noting where he had slipped backwards on a slippery dune of sand.  She smiled as she realized that his sliding along the sand had given her time to close the distance between her and her prey.  She smiled.

    Collette crested the dune and paused briefly.  In front of her were dozens of small, concrete buildings.  Dirty children were playing in sandy streets.  Camel drawn carts moved amongst the buildings.  Men and women stood around talking.  They all looked miserable.  Geoff had ran into the small city block, using the buildings to hide his passage.  Collette scColletted the buildings and trails, but it was the people that gave Geoff's passage away; two men were looking down one of the dusty streets.

    Collette ran on.

* * * * *

    Shit. Shit. Shit.  Geoff ran, stumbled, fell.  He skinned his hands; small pebbles digging into his skin.  He cursed, wiped his bleeding palms on his khaki pants and stumbled on.  How?  How did she know where he was?  How had she tracked him so easily?  Was there a bug on him?  No, he was being silly.  But, still, she had tracked him with remarkable ease. 

   Geoff stopped, ducking down a sand covered alley.  When an animal became trapped its only option was to fight.

    It was time to fight.

* * * * *

    Collette saw him duck into an alley.  He knew she was there and she knew that he was preparing an ambush for her.  The fight or flight response was even more prevalent in the human species.  Collette knew this from years of experience and her experience had saved her life on countless occasions.  She knew it would do so again. 

    Collette looked around the small neighborhood.  The buildings were falling apart; paint, when there was paint, was peeling and cracked.  Dust and cobwebs covered all of the uncracked and unbroken windows.  Doors were falling off of some of the houses, leaning askew.  Sand was everywhere, spilling into half of the homes present.  Nothing was growing in the sand.  Collette peered around and finally looked up. 

    Collette found a discarded door and propped it against the house closest to her. House was too strong a word, of course, it was more of a shanty, a decrepit hovel that a large family would be uncomfortable living in.  She knew, however, that sometimes two or even three families shared such accommodations.  No matter what, it would not be comfortable. 

    Collette took a step backwards and ran up the door that she had propped against the house.  She climbed onto the roof of the house.  It was flat and not very secure and so she kept to the edge of the hovel.  She skirted the edge of the hovel, walking on the sides of her feet.  Dirt covered part of the roof; nobody had been on the roof in years.  Collette walked around the edge of the house slowly and when she reached the alley that Geoffrey had disappeared down, she spotted him.  He was crouched behind two wooden planks that had once been attached to one of the local houses.  He had a gun in his hands and was pointing it down the alley, waiting for Collette to appear.

    She didn't disappoint him.  She pointed her gun at his body and fired one bullet into his unprotected leg.  He shrieked, dropped his gun, and grabbed his bleeding thigh.  His cries brought the local children running towards the excitement.  Collette dropped from the roof and pointed her gun at Geoff's head, "don't move and don't say a word."  She was speaking German.

    Four children,three boys and a small girl with dirty hair appeared in the alley way.  Collette shooed them away, commanding them in Egyptian, "get away.  This man is dangerous."  The kids spotted the gun and having grown up in a dangerous country where guns were not an unknown fear, the children scattered.

    "I am not dangerous," Geoff said, responding in German.

    "No?" Collette asked.  "How would you explain all of the armed men in your home?  Hmm?"

    "I am not dangerous," he responded.  "I did not say that I do not employ dangerous men.  Now, what are you going to do with me?"  He was remarkably calm.  His hands had stopped most of the bleeding, pressing the leg of his trousers against his thigh to staunch the flow of blood.  His breathing was slow and easy and only an occasional gasp indicated that he was in any pain at all. 

    Despite what he said, Collette felt he was dangerous.  "I think you know why I am here."

    He nodded, "yes.  You want what is in that briefcase.  But, what are you going to do with it?  I doubt you want it for yourself.  You American's don't have reason to use such a device.  No.  I think you want it for somebody else."  He nodded contemplatively.  "Who could have sent you.  I can think of three or four groups who could hire one such as you.  Whatever they offered, I will triple.  Let me go, with the device, and the money is yours."

    Collette knew he was not bluffing.  "I am not being paid."

    "No?" He was incredulous.  "Somebody must have something on you then for you to risk your life for the device.  I can help you."

    "I don't need your help."  She looked at him, holding her gun steadily on his body.  She reached out and grabbed the black leather briefcase.  It was heavy, weighing nearly twenty-five pounds.  She wondered what the yield was of the device; how large of an explosion would a nuclear weapon this size cause?  She knew as she hefted the briefcase that she could not allow Kilandra to keep it.  She would have to steal it from her once she got Graham released from her custody.  She exhaled sharply and said, "what am I going to do with you?  I can't have you chasing after me, now can I?  I know you have resources."  She shook her head.  "Sorry." She raised her gun and fired once.

    Geoffrey Green breathed his last breath.

  * * * * *

    "Do you think she will succeed?"

    Tress  nodded, "yes.  She will get what we want and then she will die."

    "What about him?" A glance upstairs. 

    "I don't know.  He has been very docile even helpful if you can imagine that.  He might be worth keeping around after all of this is done.  I guess there is only one way to find out."  With that Tress rose from her desk.  She was wearing a thin summer dress, pink with little yellow daisies.  Her dark haired was pulled back into a severe bun.  She climbed the stairs and made her way to Graham's cell.  She unlocked the door, nodded to the two guards that were posted there, and entered the room.

    Graham stared at her with cautiously.

    "Sit down," Tress said.

    Graham sat.

    "I have just received a communiqué from some of my employees employees in Egypt.  Collette has been killed.  I'm sorry, but I thought you should know.  If you need anything I'll see to it."  Her voice was soft and caring.