Christopher Golden - Uncharted - The Fourth Labyrinth

Jada, in contrast, was a question mark. He hoped that she would prove just as tough and capable for her own sake and for Sully’s-and for his, as well. He didn’t want to see her hurt any more than she already had been. At the same time, he knew he would have to keep an eye out for Sully. The old man clearly thought it was his job to protect Jada instead of letting her protect herself. That kind of thinking could distract him enough to be fatal.

“What are you thinking?” she said, her voice a hush, barely audible over the loud airplane engines.

“Have you ever been in a fight?” he asked. “A real one, I mean.”

Jada frowned. “Not a real one, if you mean blood and bruises. Like a beatdown. But I hold my own in the dojo pretty well.” He arched an eyebrow. “Dojo? What do you study?”

“Aikido, mostly. Why?”

Drake smiled softly. Another woman who could kick his ass.

“You know, if we find it-this treasure, whatever it is-I already told Sully we can share it. Even split, three ways,” she said.

Drake would have been offended if the idea hadn’t appealed to him so much. Even so, he didn’t want her to think the potential for personal gain had been his motivation for helping her.

“Treasure’s always nice,” he said. “But that’s not why I’m along for this ride.”

“No?” She studied him as if trying to see behind his eyes. “Why, then?”

For the first time, it occurred to Drake how close they were. Reclined in their chairs, facing each other, only a couple of feet separated them. He could have reached out and touched her face. If he had been any closer, he could have felt her breath on his cheek.

“Your father was a good guy,” he said quickly. “I liked him. And Sully’s my best friend, so it’s not as if I could really say no.”

“You have before,” Jada reminded him. “Uncle Vic told me there was no guarantee.”

“Someone tried to shoot me. I take that personally. Historically, I’m not a fan of people who point guns at me, never mind pulling the trigger.”

“And that’s it?” she asked. “Those are the reasons you’re on this trip?”

Drake nodded, frowning. She was fishing for a different reply. What else did she want him to say?

“Pretty much,” he said.

Only when he saw the disappointment in her eyes did he realize where he’d gone wrong. Jada had been hoping he had also come along because of her-because he didn’t want to say goodbye to her just yet. The look in her eyes lasted for only a second before she hid her reaction from him, but he had seen it, and she knew he had seen it.

“Uncle Vic said you like the mystery, too,” she said.

“What do you mean, ‘the mystery’?”

“History. Digging up bits of the past that have been hidden for ages.”

Drake smiled. “Yeah. That, too. Archaeologists think they’ve got it all figured out. They write books and papers explaining the ancient world as if there’s nothing more to learn. It’s arrogant and foolish, and every time we find something that proves them wrong-proves there are things about the past they don’t understand or never imagined-that makes me happy.”

Jada curled up a bit tighter in her chair. “It is kind of exciting. I’ve been hearing this sort of thing from my father all my life. And it was his-well, his last mystery, really. I want to know what it was he discovered, and I like that you want to know almost as much as I do.”

This time Drake said nothing. The urge to touch her cheek, to push back her hair, was almost too much to resist, but he did. It wasn’t meant to be. He wasn’t here for that, and his life was way too complicated and unsettled to get involved with Jada Hzujak.

But damn, she was beautiful.

“Plus, there’s the treasure,” he said.

She narrowed her gaze, looking both amused and irritated all at once. He often had that effect on women.

“Yeah. The treasure. Whatever it is.”

Drake stepped off the cargo plane onto the tarmac of Cairo International Airport, stiff and parched from the long flight. He had slept at least seven hours, more than half the journey, but he still felt tired. Though he had been there multiple times, Egypt had not lost its magic for him. Its cities were modern, full of car exhaust, loud music, and stressed-out people just like everywhere else, but you could feel the ancientness in the air. There were places just miles outside of any city-Cairo included-where it felt as if he’d stepped back in time.

He dropped his duffel on the tarmac and stretched, glad to be off the plane and able to breathe fresh air. The reasons for the journey were grim, but it felt good to be in motion and trying to do something to solve the puzzle of Luka’s death. He figured it would be nice if they could accomplish that before someone started shooting at them again.

“I need something to drink,” Jada said, hefting her duffel as she followed him off the plane.

Sully had been the first one off. He had walked around, doing a visual reconnaissance of the little corner of the airport where the cargo plane had taxied to a stop.

Now Sully turned at the sound of Jada’s voice and arched an eyebrow.

“I like a drink as much as the next guy, but don’t you think it’s a little early? It may be past noon here, but it’s barely sunrise back in New York.”

“Water, Uncle Vic,” Jada said, smirking. “Just a bottle of water. I’m dried out from the flight.”

Drake grinned at Sully’s chagrined expression.

“Yeah,” Sully said, pulling a cigar from his jacket and pinching it between his teeth. “I could use some water, too. Flying always makes the inside of my mouth feel like steel wool.”

When Jada went to thank the pilot for the ride and for delivering them safely to Egypt, Drake sidled over to Sully.

“Maybe you want to dial down the protective parent vibe a little.”

Sully gnawed on his cigar. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Romeo?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Drake waved him away with both hands. “Look, Sully, I don’t have any interest in romancing this girl. But I’d like to keep us all alive, and if you keep thinking of her like she’s some kid you have to protect, you’re liable to get us all killed. She seems capable of taking care of herself. Let’s focus, okay?”

Sully’s expression turned to stone. “I’m reading you loud and clear. I’m not her father. You think I don’t know that? But Luka is dead, and I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Jada.”

“The best way for you to make sure that doesn’t happen is to stay alive yourself,” Drake countered, lowering his voice as Jada strode back toward them. “Just try to stop worrying about her long enough to not get shot, okay?”

A thin, humorless smile touched Sully’s face. Whatever retort he might have come up with-and Drake had no doubt he had been formulating one-he let it pass and turned to face Jada.

“You done playing Little Miss Sunshine with the flight crew?” Sully muttered.

Jada smiled. “Don’t be such a cantankerous old man. I know you didn’t sleep well, but when you’re trying to travel without anyone knowing you’ve left the country or thinking you’re a terrorist, you take whatever accommodations are available. Maybe if you speak up, they’ll give you a nice soft pillow next time.”

Sully seemed about to bark at her, but then he just muttered something under his breath and marched off toward a small hut outside the cargo terminal. Beads of sweat already had popped out on his skin, and Drake watched him wipe a hand across his forehead.

“He hates Egypt this time of year,” Drake said, hefting his duffel.