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“I’m back at the hotel now,” she said, speaking Russian, as she walked through the lobby. “I think I stumbled across something that I wasn’t meant to see. Two names. Remi Fargo. The other name is Sam, I assume same last name. I want to know everything on them as soon as possible.”

“Has to be the American couple we saw them meeting with tonight when we followed Rolfe’s men. They stole the woman’s purse, no doubt to find out who she was. I’ll get started on it. How’d the dinner go?”

“Flawless. Although he knows that I’m aware of his interest, I believe it will work to our advantage.”

“You let him know you knew about the plane?”

“I felt it was necessary.”

“And he didn’t seem suspicious? Or even suspect that you’re the other buyer that Durin Kahrs had contacted?”

“Not in the least.” She glanced at the three clocks over the hotel’s front desk, each giving a different time for that part of the world. Here, in Marrakesh, it was past midnight. “Keep me informed. I have a feeling t

hat we can trust Durin Kahrs as much as we trust Rolfe. Not at all.”

“On that we agree,” he said, then bid her good night.

She dropped the phone into her purse and took the elevator up to her room. Finally, she thought, all this time searching was going to pay off.

8

Sam and Remi left before dawn the following morning. Rain wasn’t expected until late in the afternoon, giving them some hope that they’d have a chance to find the Hoffler brothers before the height of the storm. And though Sam wanted to believe that Karl and Brand were merely running behind schedule and that nothing was wrong, between their frantic voice mail message, and then the theft of Remi’s purse last night, his instinct told him that the best-case scenario was a rescue mission and the worst-case was a recovery mission. As much as he hoped for the former, he and Remi were prepared, the back of their Toyota four-wheel drive filled with climbing gear and a trauma kit, as they followed behind Durin and Zakaria in Durin’s silver Nissan X-Trail.

The drive took them through the countryside, where the fields of cactus seemed at odds with the Atlas Mountains in the distance. Eventually, the desert landscape gave way to rolling foothills, which turned to craggy peaks and valleys before leveling off to a high-desert plateau. After several hours on the road, Durin slowed, then stopped on a road that paralleled a steep ravine to their right.

Sam pulled up behind him. He and Remi got out, joining Durin and Zakaria at the edge of the roadway. Durin lit a cigarette, though it took him a few tries as the wind whipped across the plateau. He nodded toward the mountains in the distance. “That’s where they went.”

Sam took his binoculars to have a look, but saw nothing on the other side except high-desert scrub. “Mind narrowing it down a bit?”

“Across the gorge. You see that rock that looks like a giant camel’s head on the crest of that ridge?” Durin stepped closer to him, pointing. “Looks almost like it’s balancing on the edge.”

Sam saw an outcropping of rock that jutted up and out. Not quite a camel’s head. More like stacked wedges of Swiss cheese. “Got it.”

“That’s what the boys were talking about. Something called Camel Rock. It’s where they were heading when I left them here.”

Sam adjusted his focus, noticing it looked more like a camel’s head when it was blurry. He glanced over at Remi, who was searching for it with her own binoculars. “See it?”

She nodded.

He glanced at Zakaria. “We should probably get started.”

Zakaria eyed the steep cliff leading down to the valley below and the steeper climb up the other side. “That’s a long fall. You sure they went that way?”

“Ja.” Durin Kahrs used his cigarette to point out a possible path to their left. “Series of steep switchbacks. You can see the zigzag of a trail on this side leading down. That’s the path that Karl and Brand took. I’d guess a day and a half to get there and back.”

“Sure you don’t want to go with us?” Zakaria asked.

“If my sister were better, I would.” He looked at his watch. “I really have to get going. Good luck to you.”

As Durin drove off, Sam peered through his binoculars following the route Durin said the brothers took. The trail seemed treacherous, the switchbacks steep in some places, with a sheer drop down to the ravine below. At least a several hours’ trip to the bottom. Going up the other side didn’t seem much better, and he turned his attention to the sheer rock wall below so-called Camel Rock. Durin was right. There didn’t appear to be a direct route to the rock formation. The trail Durin pointed out would end up way above it. That left a lot of places that Brand and Karl could have fallen.

A movement near a boulder to the west of the site caught his eye as he panned the area. Mountain goat, he thought, trying to find it again until he spied something red on the rock below that. Adjusting the focus, he took a better look. “Wasn’t one of Albert’s nephews wearing a red jacket in the photo he showed us?”

Zakaria put his hands over his eyes, trying to see for himself. “Brand wore a red jacket. But if it’s his, where are they?”

“That,” Sam said, “is what we’re going to find out.” He studied the area from top to bottom. “For that jacket to be there, we at least know they made it to the other side.”

Remi surveyed the area. “There’s got to be a quicker way across this gorge than going down that trail.”

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