Her phone vibrated and she opened her eyes, the innocuous number one that belonged to Langley. She swiped her thumb as she rose from her seat.
“Are you secure?”
She suppressed a smile at Leroux’s voice. “Enough to listen.”
“Change of plans. We need you in Dubai ASAP.”
“What about my current plans?”
“We’re having your flight canceled due to mechanical issues. You won’t be able to reschedule until tomorrow.”
Sherrie smiled slightly as the board to her right changed, the passengers she had been sitting with groaning in frustration. “You’re an evil man.”
“Never get on my bad side.”
“Who’s heading to Dubai?”
“Check your two-o’clock. Woman with a matching purse.”
Sherrie casually glanced to her right, spotting a woman approaching with the exact same $4000 red Fendi Peekaboo Mini purse as she had. “Got her.”
“Exchange purses. Her name is Gina, you’re old friends.”
The woman smiled. “Of all the places to see you again!”
Sherrie threw her arms open. “My God, Gina, is that you?”
Gina hurried over and gave her a one-armed hug, the other holding her purse pushed against Sherrie’s stomach where her own purse rested. The exchange was made while bodies were pressed together, a move rehearsed a thousand times during her training.
“I wish I could talk, but I have a flight to catch,” said Gina, already pulling away. “Call me when you’re in New York.”
Sherrie waved. “You can count on it.” She held the phone to her ear. “Done.”
“Good. When you arrive in Dubai, you’ll be met by local contacts. Be prepared for anything.”
Sherrie smiled. “I’m always prepared, baby.”
44 |
Over the Arabian Sea
“Thank God you were able to make that shot, Niner, otherwise the mission would have been blown.”
Sergeant Carl “Niner” Sung eyed Sergeant Will “Spock” Lightman. “Excuse me?”
Spock cocked an eyebrow. “What?”
“You’re thanking God? I like to think I had a little to do with it.”
Spock gave him the finger. “Thank you, Niner.”
Niner folded his arms, Command Sergeant Major Burt “Big Dog” Dawson chuckling at the show put on by his team. “You’re welcome.” Niner leaned forward. “And on behalf of God, He says you’re welcome too.”
Sergeant Leon “Atlas” James groaned, his impossibly deep voice echoing through the hold of the MC-130J Commando II transport they occupied the rear of. “So, now you’ve got a direct connection to God?”
Spock shook his head. “Careful there, we might have to toss you out the back for blasphemy.”
Niner shrugged. “I’m Buddhist. I’ll just return even more handsome.”
Atlas grunted. “And shorter.”
Niner flipped him the bird. “Kiss my short, handsome ass.”
“In your dreams, shit ball.”
Niner stared at Atlas. “You better hope reincarnation isn’t real, otherwise you’re coming back as something I’d scrape off my shoe.”
Atlas regarded him for a moment then shook his head. “You’d still be too short.”
The team, all elite operators in 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment—Delta, commonly known as the Delta Force, erupted in laughter at their friend’s expense, even Dawson joining in. As the highest ranking among the team of Non-Commissioned Officers, he was in charge, and the mission they had just completed, installing surveillance equipment on several ghost ships being used to illegally sell oil to North Korea, had been a success. They had installed the devices, and nobody knew they had been there.
Except for one crewmember who had spotted them boarding one of the vessels, Niner taking him out while floating on the water. The Korean-American was the Unit’s best shot, and he had once again proven his skills, God-given, were as sharp as ever. And the guard falling into the water unnoticed meant those on board would chalk it up to an unfortunate accident.
And if they continued unawares, the US government would be able to provide proof to the UN that the Iranians and North Koreans were violating their respective trade sanctions.
All in a day’s work.
Dawson’s comm squawked in his ear.
“Zero-One, Control, come in, over.”
He activated his comm. “Control, Zero-One, go ahead, over.”
“Zero-One, stand by for Control Actual, over.”
Dawson held up a hand, silencing the chatter, as Colonel Thomas Clancy came on the line. Clancy was their commanding officer, and a man Dawson implicitly trusted. And respected.
“Zero-One, Control Actual. Change of plans. We’ve got a situation developing with our professor friends in Dubai.”
Dawson shook his head at the mention of two civilians he had been ordered to kill as terrorists several years ago by a corrupt administration, and now counted not only as two of the most solid, reliable civilians he knew, but friends as well. It had been a long, twisted, strange road, but there was little the men of Bravo Team wouldn’t do for the two professors who so often found themselves in the middle of events bigger than themselves. “Acton and Palmer? What did they do now?”
The mention of their names had everyone leaning forward.
“Looks like the Saudis kidnapped a friend of theirs in Sweden, forced them to steal some ancient ring, then bring it to Dubai where we think the exchange is happening.”
Dawson’s eyes narrowed. “Why not just exchange it in Sweden?”
“We’re not sure. Langley seems to think the Saudis are panicking, and are either trying to figure out a way to keep everyone alive, or are planning on killing everyone on safer soil.”
“How about just not doing stupid shit to begin with?”
Clancy chuckled. “Since when have they ever done that?” There was a pause. “Listen, we’re still waiting for the mission to be sanctioned, and what the ROE will be, but I’m redirecting you to the general vicinity immediately. By the time you get there, you’ll have your orders, and hopefully a location on your targets. All the intel we have has been sent to your phone. Copy?”
“Copy. I’ll brief the men.”
“Do that. Control Actual, out.”
“What’s up, BD?” asked Spock, everyone eager to hear what was happening with the professors. Dawson held up a finger, opening the data file sent from Control, quickly skimming the details, his head shaking the entire time. He turned to the men, the plane already banking, their updated orders obviously received in the cockpit. “Well, it looks like there’s no rest for the wicked.”
Atlas jabbed a massive finger at Niner. “I blame him for insulting Him.” The finger’s target adjusted upward.
Niner was about to deliver a retort when Dawson cut him off. “The professors are in a situation again.”
Spock grunted. “When aren’t they?”
Dawson smiled. “They do keep us employed. Looks like this one isn’t their fault. Pop quiz: what’s the only type of building you can enter, but never leave the same way you came in?”
Niner shrugged. “A morgue?”
Dawson chuckled. “Close. The correct answer would be a Saudi embassy.”
Atlas groaned, Dawson swearing he felt it over the vibration of the airframe. “Don’t tell me we’ve got another Istanbul.”
Niner leaned forward earnestly. “Please tell me my future wife is okay?”
Dawson gave him a look. “If you’re referring to Professor Palmer, then as far as we know, she’s fine. I’ll let her husband know you’re concerned.”
Niner grinned. “Do you think he’ll tell her for me?”
Atlas shook his head. “You’re going to get your ass waxed one of these days.”
Niner stood, dropping his pants to reveal a cheek. “Already done. Feel that. Smooth as a baby’s bottom.”
Spock pulled his Glock. “If that ass isn’t holstered
in three seconds, I’m adding a new hole.”
Niner pulled up his pants and sat back down. “You’re all just jealous that I have the balls to get a Brazilian when it’s needed.”
Atlas grunted. “That’s only because we have man-sized balls and it would hurt too much, not like those giblets you’re sporting.”
Niner squeezed his boys. “I’ve had no complaints.”
“Why would you. They’re yours.”
“I meant from the ladies.”
Atlas gestured toward Niner’s hands. “Why would they? They’re—”
Niner spun toward Dawson. “BD, they’re picking on me.”
Dawson eyed him. “You’re the one who cocked a cheek.” He became all business. “Here’s the situation. A Swedish professor went into the Saudi embassy in Stockholm this morning and never came out. He was supposed to meet the professors but never showed. Acton, in his infinite wisdom, went to the embassy himself—”
“Now he has balls,” observed Atlas.
“—then came out a few minutes later. We assume he went in looking for his friend. Shortly after he left, Interpol Agent Reading received a message from Acton on a hotel staff member’s phone. That message indicated their friend had been kidnapped by the Saudis, who wanted them to steal some ring that had been discovered, and hand it over in exchange for their friend. Reading passed the message on to Dylan, and that’s how we’re in the loop.”
“I miss Dylan,” sighed Niner. “He was always nice to me.”
Atlas cleared his throat. “That’s because he always had a thing for Asian chicks.”
Everyone split a gut laughing, even Niner joining in. “Okay, that was a good one.”
Atlas stood, taking bows. “Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all week. Try the Pork Rib MREs, they’re fantastic.”
Dawson regained control and continued. “After that message was sent, there was a police report that there was a robbery at the missing professor’s university, and arrest warrants were issued for Acton and Palmer for armed robbery and attempted murder.”
This wiped all the joviality from the cabin. “That doesn’t sound like them,” said Spock. “It must be some mistake.”
“Probably,” agreed Dawson. “But the fact remains, they’re now on a flight to Dubai for some reason, we assume to meet with the Saudis to do the exchange for the professor, and the moment they land, the locals are going to arrest them and send them back to Sweden.”
Niner chewed his cheek. “Wouldn’t the Saudis know this?”
Dawson nodded. “Exactly, which is why Langley thinks they have a contingency in place. We’ve got agents on the ground that will try to track them until we arrive.”
Niner frowned. “Let’s just hope we get there before they’ve moved them to the Kingdom. I really didn’t enjoy my stay the last time I was there.”
Dawson smacked his hands together. “Check your gear then get some mental health time. We’ll be into the thick of things before you know it.”
45 |
Dubai International Airport Dubai, United Arab Emirates
Acton leaned into the aisle at the sounds of some excitement up front, then frowned. Four uniformed police were talking to the flight attendants, one of whom pointed in his general direction.
He leaned back in, turning to Laura. “The police are here.”
She became concerned. “For us?”
“I assume so.”
She sighed. “Even though I was expecting it, I’m still nervous.”
“This could be good. It means it’s over for us. We can tell them what’s going on, and hopefully they can rescue Viggo.”
“I’m just afraid they might kill him.”
“We still have what they want, remember. If we play our cards right, we can still do the exchange, but it will be the police doing it for us.”
Laura’s reply was cut off as the four men marched down the aisle, stopping beside them.
“James Acton and Laura Palmer?”
Acton nodded, his heart hammering. Dubai wasn’t exactly Yemen, but it was still a part of the world he didn’t trust. “Yes.”
“You are both under arrest for armed robbery and attempted murder in Sweden. You must come with us.”
“Murder?” Laura’s eyes were saucers. “We didn’t try to murder anyone!”
“Tell that to the Swedish authorities.” He stepped back, motioning for them to get out of their seats. “Come with us. Now.”
Acton rose, stepping into the aisle, all eyes now on them. It was humiliating, despite being innocent of the charges. Obviously, things were being interpreted incorrectly back in Stockholm. His sleeper hold could have been misconstrued as an attempt to break the guard’s neck, and Laura’s finger to the back was an obvious misunderstanding.
His humiliation would have been short-lived if it weren’t for all the cameras recording them. That was one thing that pissed him off in the modern world—the complete lack of privacy. These videos would be on the Internet for the rest of his life, no matter how innocent they were.
He leaned over and whispered in Laura’s ear. “Keep smiling for the cameras as if nothing’s wrong.”
Laura rose, her eyes widening at the sight. “Bloody hell! We’re never flying commercial again.”
Acton chuckled. “Good idea.” He followed the first two policemen, the others bringing up the rear, a jovial smile on his face as he hammed it up for the cameras. “Someone tell my boss I’ll be late for work on Tuesday.” This elicited some laughter. “If anyone sees them take us near a Saudi embassy, call nine-one-one.” Now the plane was laughing as a whole, and any video that might make the rounds should show an unconcerned American being arrested, and once the story was linked with the truth later, they might just make it out of this with their reputations intact.
“I married him for his sense of humor, not his tact,” said Laura behind him, joining in. “I’m beginning to wonder if I made the right choice.”
“He’s gorgeous, honey, if you don’t want him, you let me know.”
Acton grinned at the man just ahead who had made the proposal. “I don’t swing that way, darling, but if I did, you’d be at the top of my list.”
Howls of laughter filled the jetway as they stepped off the plane, the police appearing none too pleased at what had just taken place. They walked about thirty feet before a side door was opened and they were led down steps then out onto the tarmac where two police SUVs waited. They were loaded into the back, and were underway moments later.
“Where are you taking us? I thought we were going back to Sweden.”
The man in the passenger seat turned. “Silence!”
Acton regarded him for a moment, his entire body tensing as he reassessed the situation. The men wore police uniforms, were in police vehicles, and had conducted themselves as police officers would, with professionalism and general courtesy.
But as they left the airport, turning onto the busy streets of the city of Dubai, the flashing lights were turned off, and the two SUVs merely merged into general traffic.
He exchanged a glance with Laura, who appeared to have similar concerns. If these were legitimate police, and they were being arrested so they could be sent back to Sweden for prosecution, why would they need to take them from the airport? Wouldn’t they just put them back on the next plane to Sweden?
It was possible there weren’t any more flights until morning, so they were being taken to a jail where they’d be held for the night. While that prospect didn’t bother him much with respect to himself, it bothered him greatly for Laura. He didn’t trust the authorities in this part of the world, and he feared for her safety should they be separated.
“Listen, I’m an American citizen, and she’s British. I demand we be allowed to call our respective embassies immediately.”
The passenger drew a weapon and aimed it at Acton’s chest. “One more word, and you die.”
Acton raised his hands, leaning back in his seat, only then noticing he hadn’
t been cuffed. Wouldn’t police have cuffed them? Wouldn’t that be normal procedure? And police wouldn’t point a gun at him to shut him up. Would they? He had experienced encounters with all types of police around the world, and had to admit being drawn on had happened too many times to keep count. Why would Dubai be any different?
Yet it was supposed to be.
Though was it?
Yes, this was supposed to be a safe haven for Westerners in the Middle East, where as long as you were respectful, you could expect to be left alone to enjoy yourself. But in the eyes of the law, they were both criminals, so perhaps that courtesy didn’t extend as far as he might have hoped.
Or, as he was beginning to suspect, these weren’t police at all, and they had just been kidnapped by the very people who had Karlsson, the very people who had put them on that flight, and knew exactly when they were to arrive.
“You’re not police at all, are you?”
A font of Arabic curses erupted and Acton held up his hands again.
“Fine, I’ll shut up.”
It was when they pulled up in front of the Burj Khalifa that he knew his suspicions were correct. There was no way the Dubai authorities would put two criminals up in the finest luxury hotel in the world, just to await their flight the next day.
The passenger turned toward them. “Say a word, and you die, your wife dies, and your friend dies. Horribly. Understood?”
Acton nodded. “Crystal.”
The man’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”
Laura leaned slightly in front of Acton. “He means it’s crystal clear. He understands.” She raised her hands slightly. “And so do I.”
“Good.” Acton’s door opened, revealing two men in suits standing nearby. “Go with them.”
Acton frowned but climbed out then helped Laura down. They followed the two men into the hotel, and Acton couldn’t help but be in awe of their surroundings. It was an incredible site, an oasis carved into the desert, rivaling anything he had ever seen around the world. If it weren’t for the amount of hate surrounding it geographically, it was a lifestyle he could get used to, and could certainly afford.
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