Osman Zubeir stood in the shadow of the Great Pyramid with no expression on his face. He slowly and deliberately stripped off the Egyptian army uniform and placed it on the sand with the battered red tarboosh on top. He stood naked for a moment, allowing the hot wind to scour his body, and then lifted the white robe with its distinctive black patch. As his three companions watched, he slipped on the robe and mounted a camel. One of his companions held up a black flag and headed south, with Osman Zubeir pushing into the lead.
General Hook leaned back in his cane chair and blew out smoke. “The Khedive has offered Valentine Baker 1 the job of reorganising the Egyptian Army.”
“Has he indeed?” Jack said. “I don’t have much time for the man, but that’s one of the most difficult jobs in Africa.
