9
The third time he went over to Tarek’s, they took a different route on the way back to Zamalek. They’d been talking about Tarek’s engineering background, and Tarek wanted to show him some of the French-influenced architecture in the center of the city. They were walking through Talaat Harb Square, which did look as though it had been transplanted from Paris except for the fez on the bronze statue in its center, when there was a spate of shouting from one of the branching streets. Quinn felt Tarek instantly freeze beside him, and other passersby halted and turned.
“What is it?” Quinn asked.
“Mukhabaraat,” Tarek muttered.
“What’s that?”
“The secret police. They are shouting that the secret police have arrived.”
He gripped Quinn’s arm, but the shouting was now coming from two directio
