I watched a cab drive by. It was full. Then another, and another. All full. They must be coming in the direction of the hotels. At least I had been right in my hunch about where to catch a taxi. But Amir made no move to hail any of them. He wasn’t even standing near the curb to accomplish that. When I asked him what we were going to do, if he was going to hail a cab, he just laughed and said, “This is not New York or Paris. I will take care of it.”
He walked to the end of the block and began talking in Arabic with one of a group of men standing next to some parked cars. An animated conversation ensued for several minutes, then Amir motioned me to come down and join him. “Get in the back seat with your luggage,” he said, opening the back door for me. “I will sit in the front. Do not say anything. I will take care of everything.”