Cairo

By Hermann A. Peine

The two young brothers didnt understand while on the river, that the encounter would impact their lives and ultimately that of all Egyptians. Selling homemade trinkets to cruise ship tourists returned more than expected. Years later, Moses, the older, became an influential London lawyer before rising up through the ranks of the Egyptian Muslim Brotherhood. His approach was different, and the events of 2005 required it. His brother, Abraham, had struck out for the US and had become a distinguished USC professor in conflict resolution. Their tumultuous Cairo reunion would be amidst hundreds of hostages, including the US Embassy staff, three U-20 international soccer teams, and enough explosives to blow up much of Cairo. Ann Lawrence, political advisor at the embassy was also there, as she had been 20 years earlier on that fateful river day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 7, 2016
• ISBN: 9781514419748

Hermann A. Peine

Dr. Peine is a practicing psychologist and has published many professional papers, developed story based life skills training curriculum, the books, Children and Parents: Every Day Problems of Behaviour, with his psychiatrist friend Roy Howarth, Jutta - A Biography of an Amazing Life, and this, his first novel. The idea for the story came through a dream he had while traveling the Nile River during his Cyprus Fulbright year.

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Copyright © 2016 by Hermann A. Peine.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 01/04/2016

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CONTENTS

Chapter 1    The Nile

Chapter 2    The Gathering

Chapter 3    The Manila Shop

Chapter 4    Burj Al Arab

Chapter 5    Depression

Chapter 6    The Foreign Service

Chapter 7    Under Age 19 Soccer

Chapter 8    Armed Forces Day

Chapter 9    The Takeover

Chapter 10    Hostages

Chapter 11    The World Responds

Chapter 12    Control Issues

Chapter 13    The Arrivals

Chapter 14    Crisis Mode

Chapter 15    You Have Got To Be Kidding

Chapter 16    Nile Dreams

Chapter 17    The Exchange

Chapter 18    Regrouping

Chapter 19    The Tournament Begins

Chapter 20    Vigilance

Chapter 21    The End Game

Chapter 22    Violence Continues

Chapter 23    Another Betrayal

Chapter 24    Recovery

Chapter 25    Departure

Chapter 26    Epilogue

Dedication and Thanks

This novel is dedicated to people of the Arab Spring. May its fruits in some way ultimately become sweeter as the years pass.

Appreciation goes to Peggy Reed for proofing the manuscript, Fig Mitchell for the Kauai Westside pidgin, Michael Peine for the cover design and map work, and the Cyprus Fulbright Commission for their granting me a Senior Scholar award, giving me a space where the people of the Middle East, their history and beliefs, touched me deeply.

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Chapter 1

THE NILE

F ollowing three days visiting Egyptian monuments along the Nile, intermixed with peaceful hours meandering down it, the two English couples felt their grand escape had exceeded expectations. They were enjoying their afternoon tea while playing cards on the upper deck of their cruise ship, when a series of crackling pops drew their attention. Loud explosions followed with smoke rising from a distant farmhouse on the far bank. Mark, a semi-retired news correspondent, instinctually grabbed his binoculars. Once focused, he began a running narrative of what he was seeing and easily put on his reporter’s hat.

"It’s a large traditional farmhouse with dozens of uniformed men approaching it. Two men just opened a side door facing the river and are squatting on the ground, as if not to be seen. I think they may be carrying rifles.

What’s this? What,… what are they doing? He stopped describing what he was seeing and saw them fall even before they heard the gunshots. His voice cracked as he cried out, Hold on, they,… as he searched for the right words, and struggled in finding them, and then simply said, they just gunned them down.

The groups silence continued as the cruise ship moved past the shoreline events; however, Mark was able to make out much of what was still going on. More shots were heard. Mark refrained from sharing the rest of what he had seen because of young Michael’s presence.

This was not what Marie had anticipated as the relaxing final week to a trip she’d been assured would benefit her Henry in all aspects. She felt the past few weeks had been just what the doctor ordered by giving Henry a respite he hadn’t had in years. Would this stressful event be a setback? She lingered on thoughts about the past year and hoped she had been correct in her dogged determination for this excursion.

She knew the first nine months of 2004 had been unquestionably promising for her husband, Henry. But on arriving home that drizzly October evening, Sir Henry Wilcox found himself in a rare defeatist mood, one he didn’t relish. The results of his latest physical would infuriate her, and with cause. They had been married 37 years and he knew Marie was going to let him have it, and sure enough, she did.

You were warned my dear. I would say 180 over 105 is woefully poor. Start thinking of your work as a part-time job, perhaps a joyful hobby, no matter how important you may think it might be. You’re 35 kilos overweight, your job’s too stressful, and you rarely get up from that desk of yours. I don’t care how beautiful the view,… and don’t blame my cooking.

He knew it had to come sometime. Though he lowered his head, he remained attentive. It was hard for him to look at her whenever he knew she was so right in her conclusion, especially concerning him.

I have kept quiet for a long time, but if keeping you alive is going to be my job, I’m up to it!

Henry could only think to say. Yes, dear.

Early in their marriage they discovered they would be childless. Henry reacted by diving into his work and community service. Marie was involved in the latter and they teamed up well; everyone saw them as a good fit.

Henry found working for Arsenal more than rewarding and loved his finance management position. Being on the Arsenal Board of Directors for the past 15 years was an added bonus. It had proved to be work especially exciting in the 12th year of the club being in the English Premier Football League following 62 seasons in the top division. The manager, Arsene Wenger, had announced in 2002 that his team was good enough to go unbeaten for an entire season. During the 2003-2004 campaign he accomplished what he’d foretold. The Invincibles, as they became known, were voted the best team to have ever played in the league, having won or tied a record 49 matches before defeat, and occurred just a few weeks prior to Henry’s checkup.

Speaking to the manager, Henry had said, What a run, let me give you my personal congratulations.

Thank you. I appreciate it, but the players did the work. he said.

Speaking of a good run, I wonder if I could spend some time walking around the pitch when you are working out the team. Look at you, so trim, and I don’t believe it’s just because you’re French.

Managing our finances is probably more difficult than coaching the team. It is your ability to keep us solvent that makes my job easier and your welcome to join us anytime.

I appreciate that and I appreciate how you manage to always keep us near the top with quality players, but don’t break the bank in the transfer market process.

Somehow it has worked out. Wenger replied.

Henry never did follow up with the walks he had promised himself.

Marie, at her request, had received the call she was expecting from Henry’s doctor, even before he arrived home. She knew bad news was coming and had alerted the club that morning that Henry would likely be taking a month off.

She then called her lifelong friend. Wendy, just as I feared, we’ve got to give Henry no choice in this. Have you updated Mark and does he still agree to our getting Henry away from his work?

Yes, Mark suspected the results and is still fully committed. So much so, that he has already started packing. You know how much he loves that part of the world.

The Jenkins made good travel companions. Mark was a semi-retired journalist with the BBC, specializing in the Middle East. He was the one who had organized their initial itinerary. Henry would hate Marie working behind his back; something she rarely ever did, though face to face he would never have agreed to the trip, at least before his checkup. This time it was different. Henry was humbled by the medical report and conceded to a mode more conducive to just listening.

Within three days the couples were aboard a flight from London to Larnaca, Cyprus. Looking out a window Mark said, I can’t tell you have many times I’ve flown out of Heathrow in this drab gray rainy weather and wondered why I ever bothered to come back? No matter the difficulties in the Middle East, at this time of year the weather will almost always be ideal.

A subdued but still grumbling Henry said to Mark, Do you know how many games I will miss this month? What if it is the start of another historic run? This better be good.

Football isn’t everything my friend.

I know that, but the league is just starting, and then there is the Champions League. For a lot of people there is nothing more important.

They’re all messed up if they think that way. said Mark.

A defensive Henry countered and said, We Brits aren’t the only ones. In the U.S. the same thing can be said for American football.

Marie chimed in saying, My dear, some sun, long walks, healthy meals, and good company are all the things that should be important to you right now. There will be opportunity for blue sky at every stop, something you can’t count on in London.

Though Henry knew he’d been railroaded, he said I know you are doing this for my own good, but there are lots of things that I left unfinished at work.

I told work that they could have you by phone for half an hour a day, but no more. Please don’t tell me they can’t get along without you for a few weeks. If you’re in the hospital with a stroke, you won’t be of much worth to them anyway.

Your point is well taken. Henry said, as he relinquished his opposition to whatever his wife was planning, for she was every bit as sharp as he was and in regards to his health. He had to relent. In his mind he was beginning to contemplate the thought that getting fewer than his usual number of daily phone calls might not be so bad.

Marie then announced and drove the point home, By the way, your cell phone is going in my purse the other waking hours.

They spent the first week of their trip in the divided ancient star shaped walled capital of Nicosia. Accustoming themselves to driving across the United Nations guarded buffer zone dividing two disconnected communities from the southern Greek side, offered access to the charming Turkish Cypriot homeland. Traffic on the island followed the system introduced when Britain ruled the island. In the north they witnessed firsthand the dynamics of a secular Islamic society cut off from the world economy. Mark said, For decades Turkey has been their only means of outside support since the 1974 invasion. They continue to prop them up with about 100 million dollars a year. The Turkish invasion or intervention, as some would put it, was based on liberating the Turkish Cypriots from their threatening cousins, the Greek Cypriots and what was beginning to look like a genocide. Perhaps it’s more about Turkey not wanting Greece to control an island located in its underbelly; so close it is visible on a clear day.

Their crossing allowed them to explore the imposing Selimiye Mosque, also known as the Agia Sofia Cathedral. As they walked through the lanes of shops and vendors, they found it odd to hear the crackly sound of recorded prayers blaring out from one of the two high rising minarets. Mark said, It is still strange for me to think of this cathedral as a mosque. The French built it over 700 years ago, but the Turkish Muslim Ottomans took it over 250 years later; so much for it being a Christian church. They removed everything, even the tombstones of various kings and princes that were inlaid in the floor.

Why is this space so sterile? Wendy wondered out loud as they strolled into the interior. And why aren’t the carpets the rich Persians I imagined every mosque having?

Mark said, This is a beggar’s mosque by other’s standards. It is a good reminder of the isolation of this country. Just think, only hundreds of meters away, on the Greek Cypriot side of the divide, you find all the material abundance of any European capital.

The contrasts on Cyprus were so stark, everyone soon understood the differences were interwoven into their religious, economic, political, and social practices. Yet genetically the two peoples were linked to each other more closely than with either Greece or Turkey.

Mark continued to explain. The north of Cyprus has a highly educated Turkish Cypriot population, with thousands of newly imported peasants from eastern Turkey. That move was political, as was the beginning of the division resulting in the invasion. Mark seemed annoyed that a way hadn’t been found to reunite the people. There were good reasons why the majority of Turkish Cypriots had immigrated to England, with most living in London.

As they drove over the mountain to the port city of Kyrenia, only 30 minutes from the buffer zone, Henry said, Look to your left at that huge, appalling sculpture on the hillside.

Don’t let the locals hear you say that, Mark explained, "though I admit it isn’t the Prince Albert Memorial, it does honor the Atatürk, who was the founder of modern Turkey. For charm you have to wait until you see the medieval Bellapais Abbey. There we can entertain ourselves with a walk trying to find Lawrence Durrell’s old house. Bitter Lemons of Cyprus continues to be on my good reads list."

Ten days on the island had charmed them. Culturally they learned a great deal, thanks in part to Mark’s background understanding. The foursome found some of the beaches pristine, almost deserted, and breathtaking. Life outside of the Nicosia hub was lived at a slower pace, at least in all the villages on both sides. An exception was the wild way in which people drove, especially the Greek Cypriots. But the couples were used to London traffic and handled the local congestion well. Henry had learned to enjoy his limited phone call regimen and found being back in school under Mark’s tutelage stimulating.

Their Cyprus experience served as an introduction to their next destination, one Mark knew in even greater detail. He was excited to accompany his wife and dear friends to Egypt for he had lived there during his early career days before he met Wendy. You are going to find Egypt very different from Cyprus. he commented. They also have a secular Muslim government, like where we’ve been; but unlike Cyprus, many in Egypt support greater Muslim fundamentalism and would welcome it into the operation of their government. Such a movement is strongly opposed by the ruling class and the military, in addition to ten million Coptic Christians who wouldn’t appreciate it either.

Their two weeks in Egypt were prearranged by a Greek Cypriot agent that Mark befriended many years earlier. The tour group of 14 also included a contingent of seven Greek Cypriots, and an American couple traveling with their 10 year old son. After the group’s arrival in Cairo, they were greeted by their Egyptian guide; a handsome 30 year old Coptic Christian named Louis Awad. He guided them to the connecting flight to Aswan, a city in the south just a few miles downriver from the famous dam. He would be their eyes and ears for the duration of the trip and was skilled in avoiding the chaperoning presence of tourist police.

On landing, a short bus ride for the group deposited them at the riverside doorsteps of their luxury liner. Their ship was essentially a 5-star floating hotel offering splendid dining, air-conditioning, amazingly decorated cabins, and a sun deck complete with a small swimming pool to make the 111 mile trip to Luxor memorable, even for hardened travelers. The short segment of Egypt’s Nile River lifeline was blessed with, what many claim, are the greatest antiquities on the planet.

Henry liked the look of the river at Aswan. It was as different from London as any place his mind could conjure up. Their sunset felucca ride on the pristine clear water just below the dam must have been designed just for him. He loved the nighttime sky with its explosion of stars and felt Marie had been right in snatching him away from his frenzied schedule. Their felucca ride was in one of the traditional low wooden Mediterranean boats with its ideally shaped lateen sail rising forward with seating amidships. All of them found the singing of the young Nubian men in their small dugout canoes delightful, as it stirred memories of simpler times in their own lives. Sailing around small islands they caught the mystical sense of the river, for massive black boulders and endless lofty sand dunes rose on the west bank. Henry wondered how well a felucca would sail on the Thames in London and silently laughed at the thought. He even wondered if Arsenal’s single African player had ever learned to sail one.

Astounding himself the afternoon of the third day, after Henry had spent some hours watching the passing villages, men fishing their small boats and tending their crops, and farmers plowing their fields; but what he enjoyed most was playing chicken feet dominos on the sun deck with his friends and the young American they had compelled to join them. Lively conversations were more up Henry’s sleeve than visiting the historic temples and other architectural sights, although he complied to visit each of them. He knew that walks were good for him. He’d given up trying to deal with young people except for footballers, yet here he was, talking to a 10 year old, and enjoying it. He found young people immature, especially when it came to handling financial matters. Too many young footballers misused their God given abilities and the riches temporarily afforded them. They often squandered their money and ended up with little to show for it.

He knew about the poor and their needs. With Marie’s assistance, most of Henry’s community service had been spent finding funding for care of the elderly. He was at an age where he could use many of the services he’d helped develop and this amused him greatly. He had said to Marie, You know I only do this charity work because I want us comfortable in whatever rest home they stick us in. There we can spend all our days playing board games.

That sounds just awful! Marie had answered. Speak for yourself.

Awful or not, it’s what the two couples found themselves doing the first two days of sailing. Each of them was a good observer and people traveling in small groups can’t help connecting with those they like. The couples had surveyed other members of the group, but were surprisingly attracted to Michael, the 10 year old. He was a different sort and seemed to have a quiet confidence about him. At dinner, on the second night, they asked Michael’s parents if he would enjoy playing chicken feet dominos on the upper deck during the next day’s cruise. Michael said, Great, I would love it. Turning to his mother he asked Is it OK with you mom? Of course it was.

Michael seemed at home the moment he joined them; Henry found the boy good company. After asking Michael why his parents were in the Middle East he learned that Michael’s father was a U.S. Fulbright scholar in Cyprus. He was creating conflict resolution programs for select public schools on both sides. Michael said schools were on vacation and his parents decided to come on this tour and bring him. The same travel agent in Cyprus had sent them to Jordan a few months earlier.

Where do you go to school and how do you feel about it? Michael was asked by Wendy.

I go to the British School in Nicosia and it’s been interesting. I like most of it.

Wendy then asked, How do you get there and do you speak any Greek?

I get picked up every morning by an old Greek guy. He picks up lots of kids in his little bus, but I am the first on and the last one off. He talks English to me, but the kids just speak Greek.

How about at school?

At recess I can’t understand a word and I am glad my classes are in English; it’s really great.

Did you make any friends?

I’ve got a few, but their kind of wild and crazy, especially at their birthday parties at either a bowling alley or McDonalds.

Why do you say that? Wendy asked.

"They just run wild and no one controls them. I also have two American friends. Their parents work at the Embassy and they don’t act that way.

Mark asked, You say you went to visit Jordan? How did you like it?

I loved it! In Petra I rode a camel by myself the whole way and it was cool.

Have you gone anywhere else? asked Mark.

Last year my dad took me and mom along with his university students to Europe. I saw London, Paris, Switzerland, and Italy. I have also seen a little bit of Greece, and the Greek Islands.

Henry interjected, I am glad you get to travel a lot, but I wonder if you like soccer, as you Americans call it? Have you ever heard of the English Arsenal football team?

Yah, I’ve heard of it a little. I’ve been keeper for four years and want to keep getting better. It helps me to work with others. I never yell at people unless I’m in goal.

It sounds like you are already beginning to understand the way the game is played.

Just then, Wendy interrupted the conversation by exclaiming in surprise, Michael, with that last move I think you are going to win this game, so don’t let Henry convince you that football is the only game you can and should be good at.

Michael coyly grinned, for ever since he could remember he could beat his family in board games most of the time. Looking around he thought he would have to give up his love, skiing at home in Utah, that is, if he ever moved to Egypt.

Mark asked Michael what his father thought of the Middle East, since the region held so much interest to Mark.

We actually talk more football than any other things.

It was a comment that made Henry chortle and confirmed why he liked this boy. "While traveling in Jordan we were on Mt. Nebo and could see Jerusalem. My dad said he felt safe bringing us there, but looking at Israel he said, it’s not safe over there right now. He said it was different when they went to Israel before I was born; then Jordan looked dangerous.

Dad said that in life it all depends on one’s point of view and what is going on at the moment. He’s a psychologist you know and I get that stuff all the time. I don’t understand a lot of what he says.

Mark replied, On this one your dad was right. Some things do change around here, but it seems old hatreds never do. Tribalism, coupled with religious fervor, so often dominate events. Men who want power are always in the wings waiting their turn. Mark found it interesting that Michael seemed at ease with his new friends and seemed to understand something of the things they were discussing.

So is this place safe? Marie asked.

Mark explained by saying, "Egypt, under Mubarak’s 25 year rule made many things more affordable; but he rules with an oppressive, paranoid style indicative of a man who saw President Sadat, his predecessor, assassinated in front of him. He trusts his military and intelligence advisors more than anyone and early on greatly expanded the Egyptian Central Security Forces that manage riots and contain dissent.

The President has a great distrust of the revolutionary Islamic organizations. The fundamentalists tried to kill him, but he has kept one step ahead of them and periodically jails and kills some of them. They in turn have an equal wariness of him and his relationship with Israel.

Henry wondered how much effort it would take to run a country like Egypt. He knew all the hours it took to manage one of world’s great football clubs. He tended to compare most everything to his work. For his years of community service he had been knighted by the Queen; a great day in his life and he rated it equal to last year’s perfect season.

The next morning Henry learned that he wouldn’t have to walk far because everyone was being carted by horse drawn carriages to the magnificent temple of the falcon-god at Edfu. Mark was delighted to be back, but curious about the heightened security he sensed.

While riding through the city to the temple on its western side, Mark recalled former days interviewing the same school age children he saw scrambling for their classes as he heard a bell ring. Dressed uniformly in their school clothing, he felt that as a group they looked too orderly for their visually chaotic landscape. While the kids eased his apprehensions, they were intensified by soldiers guarding the temple and overseeing the tourists with what he felt was overactive attentiveness. He had looked for more clues at the dense tourist bazaar before the main temple entrance, but found none.

What a massive temple it was; once buried by drifting sands for eons. Later, when they returned to the boat by carriage, they all had to withstand the carriage driver’s pressure for large tips, above those offered by the tour organizers. Mark was enjoying the bartering atmosphere and couldn’t blame them. He had delighted in having to bargain for a roll of film and missed such exchanges in London. He was glad he could afford to let his man win handsomely and didn’t feel the least bit humiliated that his driver viewed him as a poor negotiator. Sailing to Luxor meant they would have to negotiate the Nile lock at Esna; the passage could take hours, depending on the cued up boats.

Arriving at the lock, the two couples found the bartering between the cruise ship guests and the vendors in their small boats on the river entertaining. They all watched for a while, but then the dominoes came out again. Each time the boat moved forward, they all stood at the upper deck railing and saw a number of the small boats hanging on to the ship and hitching a ride until the next halt. The process sped up negotiations, and they seemed adept at the drill, as it placed pressure on the tourists to make their purchase decisions. Once through the lock they again sat in their customary place reenergizing their conversation. Mark had explained his uneasiness to his friends, but said, To clarify Wendy’s question of yesterday, are we safe here, I would say yes. Did you notice the heavy presence of security today? We are safe because they are stationed on every corner, or in our case, at every bridge and temple, and in abundance. They are there to protect tourism on this stretch of the river. Without the Nile there is no Egypt and without tourism, theirs is a destabilized economy. I don’t care who is in power, for when you lose control over the basic necessities, you lose control over the country. The Nile is literally the life blood of Egypt and its antiquities, a big section of its economy.

Wendy asked, How is their President able to lead the factious country while keeping so many opposing forces at bay, and for so many years?

Mark said, His military and the police are under his control and I pity any future President that doesn’t have that kind of influence with them. I think it is a country having a culture where many in power have little tolerance or acceptance of those differing from their beliefs.

Henry interjected, All Englishmen knew that we ruled Egypt, and did a pretty good job of it I might say, but I don’t know how much influence we have now?

Mark said, We have some, but not as much as in Cyprus where we own a permanent base. Here the Americans, who prop up Egypt’s military a billion a year, have more. The money also helps keep the Camp David accords going and peace with Israel continues to benefit Mubarak and the U.S. in many ways. It also pays for priority U.S. shipping on the Suez Canal in times of emergency and also gives them access to Egypt’s air space.

They all understood that the rule by force was not limited to Egypt. Mark said, Look what’s been happening in Iraq the last two years with the coalition invasion. Who knows how that mess is going to turn out? I even think secular Turkey, set up by the Atatürk, will have a hard time getting into the E.U. because many in the ruling party lean towards building a Muslim state.

Henry couldn’t resist adding, You should try recruiting here or in Turkey for footballers and the bureaucracy you have to deal with. We have had limited success, but we are following a few of Egypt’s great players and some youngsters coming up. They’re really good, but we try to be low key in our approach. We don’t want to give away our hand to other clubs.

Why Henry, you’re as sneaky as some politicians. Wendy said.

Did I give that away?

Michael then asked a question he had been puzzling over, What does secular mean?

Mark was thinking of a basic explanation he could give this curious boy. Secular or secularism can mean many things, but when it comes to a country it means the government stays out of religion. They aren’t for it or against it and try to treat everyone the same. They also don’t have a state religion. Do you understand?

Yea, I get it.

I finally do too! Wendy said in surprise.

They were startled by the splashing sound of two youthful Swedish teens jumping into the deck’s swimming pool. It was there for the passengers use, but somehow the two blonds, wearing little, seemed out of place in this setting. It also reminded everyone of just how much they were tourists. As if foretold by chance by their conversation, they heard what sounded like muffled gunfire in the distance. Its origin seemed to be a couple of hundred yards ahead on the left bank and coming from a farmhouse not far inland. They then heard a succession of explosions with the structure quickly enshrouded by billowing clouds of white smoke. The sight suggested tear gas.

Mark had snatched up his binoculars and began scanning the scene. As with old habits learned over the years, he began his running dialogue of what he was seeing and would have been the envy of every BBC newsman at that moment.

Through the haze I perceive a large farm compound surrounded by military vehicles with what looks like about 40 armed and uniformed men slowly approaching the main house. The front door just opened and men are staggering out through the smoke, but are barely visible because of it. The soldiers are signaling them to lie on the ground. By their actions it looks like many have been through this drill before.

It was then that Mark saw two men fleeing by way of the side door and being shot instantly. The aftermath was more horrific than those he had described and contained details he did not openly want to share in their young friend’s presence.

Hearing the gunfire, Michael’s parents joined the group and spoke with their son who was excitedly asking questions. They gently calmed him and asked Mark to explain what was happening.

I suspect it was probably another crackdown on the Muslim Brotherhood. They and the government have been at this cat and mouse game for over 75 years. I saw two men get shot, but they will probably recover. The rest gave up peacefully. The afternoon’s events had placed a damper on their playing cards and everyone decided a nap was decidedly needed before the scheduled festive buffet and guest party for the last night of their cruise.

That evening Mark explained to his companions what else he had seen. Several of the soldiers, or it may have been police or both, I just don’t know as we were just too far away, went over to the bodies and repeatedly kicked them. I couldn’t believe what followed; they shot the clearly dead men again. There was also something happening on the roof, but I couldn’t make out what it was.

Wendy said, ‘I saw a whole group of birds fly up with what at first we thought was gunfire."

You’re right, I also saw them rise up, but then swoop back down once the teargas and shooting stopped. I think they were pigeons and I would have never expected them to behave that way; to quickly return after all that commotion. You would think they’d stay away from their coops for some time.

They continued talking alone at their table while dressed in the traditional clothing they had purchased during