Kalugal cast her an adoring look. "You are so wise, my mate. I'll leave my two men with you."
"I prefer that you have them protecting you and your group. The regular security people are enough to keep me and Darius safe in the house."
He leaned over and took her hand. "When I'm not around to protect you, I worry. Having my men watch over you and our son eases my mind."
"I know. But what about you?" She waved a hand over everyone gathered. "I'm safe in the house, but you are going out there. You need the protection more than I do."
Kalugal grinned. "We will be perfectly safe. With me, Max, Din, Ell-rom, and a human security detail, no one will get close enough to breathe the wrong way at us."
She nodded, casting him a loving smile. "I didn't know that you were taking some of the security team with you. Now I'm not worried."
Pouting, he put a hand over his chest. "You wound me, my love. Am I not enough to protect everyone?"
With his compulsion ability, he probably was.
Max cleared his throat. "At this rate, we will never leave."
"Right." Kalugal turned back to the group, lifting his hand. "I'll have Ahmed brief you on security protocols for the market."
As if summoned, the stern-faced security chief entered the room. He was obviously human, probably in his fifties, with the kind of weatherbeaten face that spoke of years in the harsh Egyptian climate.
"Good morning," he said in accented but clear English. "Allow me to explain safety procedures for touring the bazaar."
Din settled back in his chair, prepared for what would likely be unnecessary but well-meaning advice. Beside him, Max had adopted a similar posture of polite attention.
"You need to stay together at all times," the chief said. "The market is a maze, and it's easy to get lost, even easier to get separated. Pickpockets work in teams. One distracts while others grab valuables."
Standard tourist warnings. Din nodded along, noticing Fenella hiding a smile behind her coffee cup.
"Second, do not accept tea from vendors unless you intend to buy. It creates an obligation. They will pressure you, follow you, make scenes."
"Good to know," Kyra murmured.
"Third," Ahmed's expression grew more serious, "and this is most important—the ladies must always remain in the center of the group, with the men surrounding them."
The amusement faded from Din's face, and he noticed Max responding in the same way.
"Excuse me?" Fenella set down her cup with a sharp click.
Ahmed seemed oblivious to the shift in atmosphere. "The local young men make sport of harassing foreign women. Following, making suggestive and offensive comments, touching, grabbing, and worse. They are very aggressive, and sometimes things can get ugly before the police arrive. It's safer if the ladies are protected by their male escorts at all times."
Kalugal set down his coffee cup. "Ahmed's warnings aren't exaggerated, I'm afraid. You might remember the CBS correspondent who was assaulted in Tahrir Square during the 2011 celebrations? She was there with her crew, surrounded by security, covering what should have been a joyful event." He paused, meeting each woman's eyes in turn. "A mob of men surrounded her, separated her from her team, and subjected her to a brutal sexual assault that lasted nearly thirty minutes. Her own security couldn't reach her through the crowd. It took a group of Egyptian women and soldiers to finally pull her to safety." His jaw tightened. "This wasn't in some dark alley or lawless area—this was in the city's main square, during a public celebration, to a prominent journalist with professional security. That's the reality we're dealing with in Cairo."
A stunned silence followed.
Din hadn't been aware of that, and given the others' responses, neither had they.
"It is an unfortunate reality," Ahmed said with a shrug that suggested he found it distasteful but inevitable. "Western women, especially, are targets. They see movies, think all foreign women are... available."
Fenella tensed beside him, and Din's heart ached for her. She'd told him about her years on the run, how she'd had to constantly calculate her safety, modify her behavior, and shrink to avoid unwanted attention.
"How is it allowed to happen?" Fenella asked. "Who raises men who do such things?"
Ahmed shook his head. "These men are like pack animals when they sense vulnerability. Terrible things happen to women who walk alone or even in small groups."
Max's jaw had gone tight. "What do the police do about this?"
Ahmed's laugh was bitter. "Police are men too. Often worse. They see Western women as rich targets for bribes or..." He trailed off, but his meaning was clear.
