The streets of Cairo are not like the streets of home. Cul-de-sacs, narrow alleyways that dead-end in a screeching halt. I’m learning this first-hand as my brother and I are running. But we’re not running for pleasure. We’re being chased by some pretty lethal-looking guys.

I’m sure you’re wondering why we’re being chased in Cairo and it’s rather simple really. Joe accuses me of having a persecution complex but I really think we attract trouble like magnets attract iron dust.

The whole family had come to Cairo for the fun of it. My father, Fenton Hardy, was a speaker at a special convention that convenes every year in different cities of the world. Mom, Aunt Trudy, Joe and I were all just tagging along for the ride.

Another dead-end. I spin around to find the four goons not as far behind as I would have liked. “Joe!”

My brother’s blond hair was sweat-soaked even at this late hour. He sucked in a deep breath and moved closer. “Talk about broken-field running,” he muttered.

I nodded and eyed the four men following us. They had long daggers, even longer machetes and that didn’t ease my mind any. We basically had zilch which meant if we didn’t find a way to get past them, we’d be trapped in this alley.

The only good thing about this midnight chase through Cairo’s back streets was that like other alleys, it was narrow, which meant that the four guys couldn’t come at us all at once. I glanced at my brother and bit back a grin. Despite the run so far, he actually looked like he was enjoying himself. Personally I’d prefer being asleep right now.

“So what’s your plan?” he asked, flashing me a grin. “Assuming you do have one.”

I snorted. “Of course I have one.” Not a completely formed one but...well, here goes nothing. I lowered my voice. “Only two can come at us right now; we disarm them and we should be able to get past the other two.”

Joe arched a blond eyebrow. “Should?”

I shushed him and nudged him none too gently toward the opposite wall of the alley. The first two goons did just what I thought they would since I figured they would think we were trying to separate and trick them. I mean, it was what we were doing and sometimes the oldest tricks are the best.

The man nearest me, a big bearded man with black eyes snapped his machete in a fast move and came at me. Something jabbed me in the back and I risked a glance to see what it was. An old board from a ripped up crate, not exactly a weapon but it would do.

I snatched up the jagged piece of wood and held it in front of me like a sword. I could hear grunts and metal clanging on metal across from me and my worry for my little brother kicked up a notch. But I couldn’t take my eyes off my goon.

He lifted the machete two-handed like he was going to divide me from head to toe. I jerked the board up and knocked the machete out of his hand. It went handle over lethal sharp point and I jumped to one side to snatch it up. The man scowled but backed up as I aimed the machete at him.

Finally I glanced over Joe’s way to see him jab his machete at his goon. I breathed a silent sigh of relief and after another glance assured me he wasn’t injured, I gave him a nod. As one we backed the goons up until we were halfway out of the alley. The plan was to trap them there for the time it took to finish this.

It may seem like we’re alone tonight but really we’re not and the faint sound of the two-tone siren told us it was almost over. Oh yeah, that was what I was doing, telling you how we wound up involved in all this.

*****

We arrived at the Cairo International Airport and after getting our luggage despite the crowds, we exited the terminal only to be pleasantly surprised at the temperature. Joe looked around, a puzzled expression on his face. “I thought it would be hotter.”

“That’s only in the summer,” said our mother. She’s a librarian and she seems to know everything. “Summer here won’t start for another month.” I watched her turn to look at the huge pyramids on the nearby horizon and followed her gaze. After seeing hundreds of pictures of them, they seemed so grand and so close. It would be so cool to go inside and see the hieroglyphs and paintings.

Several men approached my father and I could hear them haggling over prices for taxis. I shook my head, amazed by the difference between here and New York City. After a few minutes, Dad had lined up two vehicles and we headed for the Cairo InterContinental Hotel, the biggest, newest in Cairo.

I tried to see the route we took from the airport but it was too confusing. And with all the street signs in Egyptian, I soon gave up. My brother just rolled his eyes, knowing what I was trying to do. “Not like we have to know our way around here, Frank. We’re tourists this time.”

I snorted and sat back in the seat as the driver made his way to the hotel. Joe leaned forward and pointed to a tall tower in the distance. “What the heck is that?”

“Cairo Tower,” answered our driver, smiling at us. “It has a restaurant at the top that spins around.”

I shared a look with my brother. We’d have to check that out. We made it to the hotel and unloaded our luggage, then followed our parents and Aunt Trudy into the grand lobby. The beige carpet looked about the same color as the sand outside and the spaciousness was filled with comfortable seating and reproductions of Egyptian landscapes, including the Giza pyramids at sunset.

Once we were settled into our rooms, we met back down in the lobby to go to the convention center with Dad. Mom and Aunt Trudy decided to rest while we were gone. Once we were inside the huge convention center, the feeling of being in another country had faded away. Booths lined the concourse, showing everything from stun grenades to flexible handcuffs and everything in between.

“Look.” Joe had an awestruck tone to his voice as he gazed around. Our father had left us to register and find out his schedule and we were just going to look around. “Oh wow...”

I shook my head. Joe used to act this way in the toy store too. We wandered the booths, getting freebies until Dad found us and we headed back to the hotel. I think jet lag had finally hit all of us and we were ready for a good night’s sleep. That is, until the dead body fell past our window.

See what I mean, about us attracting trouble?

*****

The sirens were moving closer, I could tell. After that body had fallen past our window, we landed ourselves in a nasty situation of being at lethal odds with a drug cartel. Captain Ali, of the Egyptian Police had been rather reluctant to work with us and considered us amateurs. No amount of arguing on Joe’s part had convinced him, either. I eyed the four guys we’d trapped. Maybe he’d think differently now.

Two cars pulled up as close as they were able and I recognized the logo of the Egyptian police. Captain Ali, a dark-skinned man wearing a military-style police uniform came up to us. “Well...” he said softly, looking at the four men. “Good work.”

“Did you get the rest of them?” asked Joe, sounding impatient.

“They were right where you’d said they would be.” Ali nodded. “For amateurs, you are very knowledgeable about this whole business. Thank you.”

Now that more police officers were there, Joe and I handed over our machetes. Just like that, I felt what adrenaline I’d had fade away. Sleeping for a good twenty hours sounded like paradise right about now. I nodded to Joe. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Ali signaled his driver. “Abdul will take you back to the hotel. And thank you again.”

“Thank you.”

We settled into the back of the car, noting the differences between this one and the ones back home. Joe yawned widely and I almost expected to hear his jaw pop. “Let’s go sightseeing tomorrow. Tomorrow is our last day here.”

I closed my eyes and just grunted. Did I mention my brother is crazy?

“Come on, Frank, we haven’t gotten to see anything.”

I cracked open one eye. “Fine. But we’re not getting up early.”

Joe shrugged. “Fine by me.” He grinned and I had a feeling I was getting in over my head. As usual.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.