Rebecca had never seen chaos. She had heard about it, and read about it, but to actually see it unfold in front of her was something else entirely. Everyone was fighting and there was no rhyme or reason as men were punched and cut and Rebecca hated to think what else. She looked around for the second Ounam man, but there was no sign of him.

“Time to go,” Hawk said, slipping the tomahawk back into his belt and grabbing Rebecca by the wrist. She was pulled of her feet as Hawk ran for the door. They burst out into the night with about a dozen other rioters, and Hawk turned sharply to the left.

“Where are we going?” Rebecca asked.

“Anywhere away from here,” he said. “The Nile is this way!”

There was all kinds of shouting now, and Rebecca could not keep track of what was being said, only that the crowd was getting even more agitated and the riot was spreading down the street. At the head of the crowd, Rebecca saw the second Ounam man, and what looked like a few more. Dammit! she thought, they saw me.

“Can someone help us?” Rebecca shouted. She looked around and froze in horror as she saw the surviving Ounam man being joined by several others. They were glaring in her direction. “Mr. Ramsey…”

“Any other idea?” Hawk said, letting go of Rebecca to pull out the tomahawk again.

“What about the Medjai?” Rebecca asked, remembering what Uncle Edmond had told her about the Egyptian police forces.

“And they’ve been so helpful so far,” Hawk said, looking down the street. “It sounds like…”

Rebecca heard it too: hoofbeats. Just then the crowd broke apart as a single person rode though. With the skill of a trick rider, the figure had dismounted and took up a position in front of them.

“Good to see you, Hawk,” the rider said, with the hint of an Italian accent. Rebecca gasped as she realized their rescuer was a woman.

“Simonetta?” Hawk said, the first time Rebecca had seen him genuinely surprised. Simonetta made no response as she unslung a very large four barreled gun from her shoulder.

“There is a boat down the lane on the river,” Simonetta said. “Save me a seat.”

Hawk and Rebecca started running down the street as the roar of Simonetta’s gun echoed like thunder behind them. Hawk led the way, but Rebecca kept up with him when they ran down the street to a small dock where Rebecca saw her salvation; a gangly Egyptian sitting on a papyrus boat with a steam engine in the middle with two home-made paddle wheels on either side.

“Start it up!” Hawk yelled. The pilot started up the steam engine and after a minute, the paddle wheels started turning.

“Go?” asked the pilot.

“Wait,” Hawk said, looking back down the alley. There was more shouting and another blast of Simonetta’s gun. Rebecca looked back to see Simonetta running down the way toward them.

“Go?” the pilot asked again.

“Mashenak,” Hawk said. “Go!”

“Mashenak!” Simonetta shouted as she jumped off the dock into the boat. Rebecca thought she would punch through the reed floor, but Simonetta landed as soft as a cat. The pilot revved the steam engine and the boat chugged away from the docks.

Simonetta held her gun aloft in triumph, or to keep anyone in the crowd from trying to follow, but Rebecca did not care either way. Hawk sat down in the corner of the boat as Rebecca sighed with the realization she was finally safe. Rebecca could finally look back on the events of the past few hours.

“My chaperone, Harcourt…” she said, as the gravity of the even started to hit her.

“If he’s alive he’ll turn up,” Hawk said.

“He was a Construct.” Rebecca looked back to the docks they had just come from. “That was a riot! A bloody actual riot!”

“Martedì in Naukratis,” Simonetta said with a laugh as she slung the gun back over her shoulder.