Chapter 28

Six thirty Wednesday morning and Dan had already been awake and up since sunrise. Same as the last two mornings, he wanted to get the days paper to search for any information about the job. Reading from cover to cover, he could find nothing that mentioned anything about the job. Well, he thought, this could mean either of two things. They are keeping quiet and searching for clues or they have not cottoned on at all.

After a job, there is normally no contact with any of the crew for a while, so when his phone started to ring it caught him off guard. Looking at the screen, he saw the name, Saim. The first thought that ran through his mind was that something had gone wrong. That's why nothing was in the paper; they already knew who it was he panicked. Hoping he would have enough time to get on the plane, he answers the phone.

"Saim, what's wrong?" he spoke in a whisper

"Hello Dan, nothing wrong"

"Wasn't expecting to hear from anyone this soon"

"Sorry to alarm you. I know you want to be away by the weekend so I thought as a thank you, I would sort the flight for you"

"Oh mate, I appreciate that but there is no need"

"Too late, it's sorted. I have a private jet going that way on Saturday. It will be the pilot, co-pilot and only you as a passenger on board"

Knowing it must have taken some doing Dan did not want to sound ungrateful. He didn't let on that he had already booked a flight for the day before and went along with it. He would apologise and explain when he arrived back. If the plane were going there anyway there would be no harm done.

"Thanks my friend, that's really great of you"

"The pleasure is all mine believe me. It's at Eight forty five on Saturday morning at Southend airport. Flight number is LJ4739 don't be late, they won't wait for you, okay"

"Eight forty five at Southend got it. Thanks again and I will see you when I get back"

"Not if I see you first, enjoy the flight"

Friday morning had finally arrived. He was as excited as a kid in a sweet shop with a pocket full of change. By six o'clock, he was out the door. With a few pairs of boxer shorts, socks, shorts and t-shirts stuffed into a rucksack on his back, he was on his way. The cab took well over an hour to battle through the M25 traffic, the motorway nicknamed Britain's biggest car park definitely earned its name. Even though he hated being stuck in traffic, nothing could dampen his mood about what lie ahead.

The airport was bustling with people off on their own little adventures. The smokers, like sardines, squashed themselves into the bus shelter outside the main doors cramming in their last smoke before their flight. Parents chasing their rug rats around trying, although seemingly futile, to make them sit down anyway they could. Others were waiting in line to pay for their duty free. The crescendo of noise pounded on his eardrums. After three days of isolation, the noise sounded like an American Indian thundering on his war drum.

Only having hand luggage was a bonus, there would be no waiting to check in hold luggage. Once through the security scanner Dan headed upstairs to grab a drink. With two hours until the flight, he wanted to relax and have a little peace. Eventually, after what seemed like an age, the call for boarding was announced over the speaker. Eagerly grabbing his rucksack, he made his way to the gate and joined the crowd lining up. Making it to the front of the line, passport in hand, Dan was greeted by a smiling lady.

"Good morning Sir, passport and boarding pass please" The smile on her face was pleasant enough but it was plain to see that she had done this greeting for hours and it showed.

"Yes it is. It certainly is a good morning" Handing over his passport and boarding pass he waits

"Thank you Sir. Have a good flight"

Boarding the gangway and stepping onto the plane showed that this was obvious no budget flight. Televisions and phones attached to every seat and clean pressed cloths hung over the headrests. There was even enough room for Dan to stretch his legs out with smashing his shin on the seat in front. From this moment on this is how he wanted his life to be. Filled with a little extra comfort and a little luxury.

Looking out of the window of the plane, as it was taxiing down the runway, Dan could not have felt happier. Within a couple of hours, he would be out of UK airspace and, in around five hours, he would be touching down on Egyptian soil.

Five fifty local time, the doors of the plane opened. As soon as he stood in the doorway, the familiar feeling greeted him. The rush of heat that hit him was a welcome change from the cold, damp UK weather.

Opening the doors of the airport and stepping into the outside world made him smile. Seeing the throngs of local cab drivers jumping on the tourist was comical, all shouting in unison, taxi, taxi. Recalling his broken Arabic, it did not take long for Dan to be ignored as the locals realised they could not get away with over charging. As soon as he told them that he lived in Dahab, and was not a tourist, they quickly shuffled to the next holidaymaker with a fat wallet.

Making his way to the car park away from the hustle, he waves down a taxi. Learning early on that if you take the time to speak their language, even if sometimes you get it wrong, you gain respect. In his best Arabic, he tells the driver he wants to go to Dahab and asks how much please

"Men fadlak, ayez arrouh ella Dahab. Bekam?"

Smiling, happy to hear a foreigner speaking his own language, the taxi driver answers two hundred "Etnein Mia"

Knowing the tourists would be paying at least three times that amount, he accepts and jumps into the back seat, throws his head back, and takes in the sounds of the Egyptian music blaring from the taxis stereo.

The journey to Dahab took just over an hour. Driving through the slalom of roadways cutting through the mountains was just as breath taking as the first time he had travelled the journey. He could not help but stare in awe at the mountains of sand and rock towering up towards the heavens on either side of the road. Watching the camels, wonder aimlessly through the sea of sand, trying to find a water source was so far detached from the everyday life in the UK.