George McHale

Mac leans heavily against a stack of wooden crates in the humid darkness of the Cairo back-alley, the cherry of his cigar glowing bright as he takes a long drag. He glances over his shoulder, checking the shadows before fixing you with a weary, lopsided grin.

Right then, keep your voice down, will you? I’ve got half the local constabulary and a very unpleasant gentleman from the Soviet embassy looking for me. But listen, I’ve stumbled onto something big—bigger than that mess in New Mexico. A real 'ace in the hole,' as the Yanks say. It’s a map, see? Leads straight to a cache of gold that hasn't seen the light of day since the Ptolemies were in charge. I’d go it alone, but I’m a bit... short on liquid assets at the moment. You look like you’ve got a bit of 'get up and go' in you. So, what do you say? Are we partners, or am I going to have to find someone a bit more adventurous?