The Viking Deception

by J. Robert Kennedy

  If one were willing to sacrifice true freedom.

  And he was never one to allow that.

  He glanced over his shoulder to see the courtyard behind him, and frowned at the sight of two more suits following them.

  There would be no escaping.

  With Karlsson’s life on the line, he had no designs on doing anything beyond obeying their instructions for the moment. One good thing was that they were at least not on their way to Saudi Arabia, though that could change in a heartbeat.

  And he had no illusions that they’d be safe here. In the privacy of a hotel suite, anything could happen to them, the Saudis repeatedly proving over the years that life meant little to them, and consequences little more.

  They boarded an elevator and Acton caught his breath as they shot up to the 142nd floor. Arriving in about a minute, no one else having been allowed to board by the wall of suits that had blocked the doors the moment they stepped on, they were soon at corporate suite 142E.

  A single knock and the door opened immediately, those inside obviously expecting them. Acton stepped through the door, quickly taking in the room, then gasped at the sight of a severely bloodied Karlsson in one of the bedrooms.

  “Viggo!”

  He rushed toward his friend but a behemoth in a suit stepped in front of him, blocking the way. “What the hell have you done to him?”

  “Nothing that concerns you,” replied one of the men already in the room.

  “This wasn’t part of the deal. Nobody said anything about doing this”—Acton gestured with anguish at his moaning friend—“to him. This isn’t right! He needs a doctor!”

  “Give us the ring, and you can tend to your friend.”

  Acton spun on the man. “Who are you people? Why are you doing this?”

  “We are the people who want the ring. Give it to us, and this is all over.”

  Acton regarded the man. “And what assurances do we have that you’ll let us go?”

  Guns were produced by everyone, though not aimed at them. “None. Give us the ring now, or we shoot you and take it ourselves.” The man smiled slightly. “Either way, Professor Acton, we get the ring.”

  Acton scratched behind his ear, cocking his head slightly as he eyed the man. “Umm, that’s going to be a problem.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “We don’t have the ring.”

  46 |

  Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia

  “Well, they’ve been picked up, but they weren’t held at the airport like they were supposed to be.”

  Leroux frowned at the expected news as he reentered the room after being informed by Director Morrison that Delta was a go. “Where are they?”

  “You’re going to like this,” replied Randy Child, pointing at the displays. “I’ve been able to track them leaving the airport then arriving at the Burj Khalifa.”

  Leroux’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? Why the hell would they bring them there?”

  Child shrugged. “These are Saudis. I don’t think they really look at things the way we do.”

  “Obviously.” Leroux gestured toward the displays showing Acton and his wife escorted into the hotel by four men in suits, none of whom wore the police uniforms of the men that had arrested them. “Where’d they go?”

  Child manipulated the display. “They boarded an elevator, went to the 142nd floor, then entered room 142E. There are no cameras in the rooms, so that’s as far as I can take it.”

  Leroux frowned. “So, you’re telling me all you were able to do was track them to their exact final destination?”

  Child threw up his hands in mock apology. “I know you’re disappointed.”

  “Tremendously. You’re fired.”

  Child grinned. “I’ll pack my things.”

  “Do that.” Leroux raised a finger. “But not until after your shift.” He became serious once again. “Do we know who rented that room?”

  Child tapped a few keys then laughed. “Oh, this is too good.”

  Leroux smiled, turning toward him. “Let me guess. They didn’t bother hiding it.”

  Child shook his head. “Nope. Department of Ancient Antiquities, Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.”

  Sonya Tong shook her head, her arms folded across her chest. “How sheltered from the real world are these people?”

  Leroux sat at his station, shaking his head. “Let’s just hope their idiocy keeps up. Right now, they just keep digging their own grave.”

  Child held up a finger. “Now, now, they are after an ancient ring, so at least they’ve got the right department renting the room. Let’s give them that.”

  Leroux chuckled. “The problem is they honestly think this makes everything look legit.” He leaned back and stared at a data file on the building, cycling through what the CIA knew about the structure, things that the average civilian wouldn’t consider, such as HVAC ductwork, window types, door thicknesses, and more.

  Anything anyone would need to know to breach any part of the massive structure standing over 2720 feet tall.

  Leroux sighed. “Well, at least we now have a target for Delta. Get every piece of intel you can over to them. They’re going to need it if they’re going to come up with a plan that gets our people out alive.”

  Child shrugged. “Seems pretty easy to me. Hit the room, kill the bad guys, grab the targets, get out.”

  Leroux turned his chair to face Child. “You’re forgetting one thing.”

  “What?”

  “That room is on the 142nd floor. The elevator alone takes a minimum of one minute to get to the bottom. That assumes the elevator is already there when they need it, and that it doesn’t slow to stop on any other floors on the way down. By the time they get there, a couple of hundred police could be waiting to greet them.”

  “Huh. Didn’t think about that.” Child chewed his cheek for a moment, scrunching up his nose. “So, maybe I should get to work on those elevators?”

  Leroux nodded. “Figure it out, and you might just keep your job.”

  47 |

  Approaching United Arab Emirates Airspace

  “There’s no way I’m Tom Cruising it on the outside of that thing.”

  Atlas agreed with Niner’s assessment. “You do have to be a special kind of crazy to do some of the stunts that man does.”

  Spock batted a hand. “Bah, it’s all safety harnesses and shit like that. I’d pay good money to see him in the real world doing that stuff.” He looked at the others. “Seriously, I would. How much do you think it would cost to get him here to help out?”

  Atlas grunted. “More money than you’ve got.”

  Niner’s eyes widened with a childlike expression. “Maybe if we pool our money? Pitch it to him like a Middle Eastern King Kong.”

  Atlas stared at them. “You two have got a lot of good money to spread around.” He pointed a meaty finger at Niner. “And you still owe me ten bucks for pizza last week.”

  Niner grinned. “I’m good for it.”

  “Only if you survive the mission.”

  Niner’s eyes narrowed. “Why? Are your Spidey senses telling you something?”

  “Only that if a little man like you were seen on the side of that building, our targets could be forgiven for thinking you were just a bug.”

  Niner flipped him the bird. “Have you seen the size of the insects they’ve got here?”

  Atlas dropped to a knee, holding one hand at Niner’s feet, the other at his head. “They’re about this big.”

  Dawson joined the others in laughing at their friend’s expense, Atlas on fire today. Niner shoved the big man off balance, Atlas recovering with a shoulder roll before returning to his seat. Dawson raised a hand, silencing everyone. “Fortunately, I’ve got a better plan that doesn’t involve Tom Cruise or any of you swatting at planes from the side of the building.”

  Niner frowned. “Color me disappointed.”

  Spock grunted in agreement. “Me too. So,
what’s your non-Hollywood plan?”

  “Wingsuits.”

  Niner’s eyes shot wide. “Please tell me you’re not going to have us drop from thirty-thousand feet and land on that thing.”

  Dawson shook his head. “No, none of you are as good as Tom Cruise.”

  48 |

  Burj Khalifa, Room 142E Dubai, United Arab Emirates

  “What do you mean you don’t have the ring?” The man swung his hand toward both Acton and Laura. “Search them!”

  Acton held his arms out to the sides as one of the men approached, a quick pat-down ensuing before he moved on to Laura. She frowned at the man.

  “Do those feel like rings to you?”

  The man glared at her then removed his hands from her breasts, Acton struggling to control his temper as the groping session continued. Finished, the man shook his head.

  The man in charge stormed forward, jabbing a finger into Acton’s chest. “Where is it? Tell me now or she dies!”

  Acton stepped back, putting himself between the irate man and Laura. “Like I tried to tell you, we don’t have it. With us.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

  Acton reached into his pocket and produced a piece of paper. “I took the precaution of couriering it before we left Sweden.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “What? Why would you do that?”

  Acton stared at him. “Ahh, because I don’t exactly trust you, now, do I?” The man opened his mouth to deliver what Acton was certain would be something poetic, but Acton cut him off with a raised hand. “I will give you the tracking number so you can track it. You’ll let us go, with our friend, and you’ll get the ring when it arrives at its destination.”

  The man was fuming, pacing back and forth in front of them. He finally stopped, spinning toward Acton. “Unacceptable!”

  Acton shrugged. “You have no choice.”

  The man stepped forward. “I do. I can kill you now.”

  “Then you’ll never find the ring.”

  The man pointed at the paper in Acton’s hand. “I kill you, I take that paper, I collect the package, I have the ring.”

  Acton held up the paper. “Oh, this isn’t the tracking number.”

  The man threw up his hands, exasperated. “Then what is it?”

  “It’s a Western Union receipt.”

  “What?”

  “I sent your accomplice in Stockholm, the Ambassador’s Chargé D’affaires Al-Jubeir, a five dollar birthday gift. This is the claim number.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, if you actually lived like most in your country do, you’d understand that when you send money through Western Union, you can also send a short message.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “Well, when your man collects his birthday gift, he’ll be given a message. That message is the tracking number for the courier company.”

  The man reached forward, snatching the paper from Acton’s hand, holding it up triumphantly for the room to see, smiles and head bobs acknowledging his prowess.

  Acton shrugged. “That will allow you to identify the message, but not pick it up.”

  “Why?” It almost sounded like a whine.

  “You need the password, which only we know.” Acton tapped his temple. “And I only tell you it when we’re all safe.”

  The man glared at him, frustrated. He shook the paper. “So, you give me the password, and that allows us to get the message you sent. That message is the tracking number for the courier company. We can then track the package and pick it up, and it contains the ring.”

  Acton smiled. “Now you’re getting it.”

  The man pulled a weapon, pointing it at Laura’s head. “Tell me the password or I kill her. Now!”

  Acton raised a finger. “Oh, was I not clear? We each gave the agent half the code while the other was out of earshot.” He smiled. “You need us both. Alive.”

  49 |

  Outside Dubai, United Arab Emirates

  Sherrie White stood next to one of two idling SUVs, holding a locator beacon for the cavalry about to arrive from the sky. She had never jumped using a wingsuit, though had trained extensively on how to be inserted into hostile territory via parachute.

  This was just an extension of those principals, and she was envious of the team now winging in from international airspace, unbeknownst to the UAE.

  She had been collected at the airport by one of the Agency’s contacts, and was now fully equipped with enough weaponry that if caught, would ensure her an extended incarceration in a cold, dark cell.

  But that was the job.

  A job she absolutely loved.

  Her parents had died when she was a teenager, and in college she had been approached by the Agency after filing an application on a whim. Apparently, they liked young recruits who were proven survivors with few family ties.

  It was the best thing to ever happen to her. The Agency was her family now, and through it, she had found Leroux, and through him, Kane and Lee Fang. She had her little circle, a cocoon of caring that she had been desperately missing.

  And she got to kick ass for a living.

  Life is good!

  She had a terrific boyfriend whom she loved and trusted, a job that was challenging and exciting, and a few good friends.

  The only problem with it was that she could be killed at any moment, her career choice not one that meant someone had her back at all times.

  Not like these operators about to arrive.

  She sometimes envied the comradery a unit like that must provide, the security of knowing your brothers in arms were there for you at all times, but more often than not, she preferred to be on her own, her only connection to help an earpiece linking her to a security apparatus unparalleled in the world.

  “There!”

  She squinted at where her partner was pointing, seeing nothing but stars, stars that were brighter than anything she had seen in years, the air clean of pollution, both industrial and light.

  Then she saw them, stars that had been twinkling misinterpreted. She smiled as she spotted the first chute, the Delta team she had worked with previously about to arrive.

  A chute flared to her right, startling her, the first touching down unexpectedly. She handed the beacon over to her partner then rushed over to greet the first arrival.

  “Welcome to Dubai.”

  The man removed his helmet, and she smiled in recognition.

  “Sergeant Major.”

  Dawson shook her hand. “Good to see you again, Agent White. Sitrep?”

  “Nothing has changed. We believe they’re still in the room with the hostiles.”

  Dawson stripped from his gear as the others landed around them. “Nothing on Professor Karlsson?”

  “Nothing confirmed, but a large bag was brought into the hotel shortly after their diplomatic flight arrived. We believe he was in the bag, probably drugged.”

  Dawson bundled up his gear then tossed it in the back of the SUV, the others doing the same, all dressed impeccably in suits.

  “Well, aren’t we a handsome bunch?”

  Niner adjusted his tie. “Some more than others.”

  Sherrie flashed him a sexy wink then returned her attention to Dawson. “We’ve managed to book you a room one floor below the target, but unfortunately we couldn’t get you something directly below. It’s about thirty meters over.”

  Dawson nodded. “No problem. Let’s get in position before they decide to move them. The last thing we need is a ground pursuit on the streets of Dubai.”

  50 |

  Operations Center 2, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia

  “Any sign the Delta insertion was detected?”

  Child shook his head. “Negative. All’s quiet on the Middle Eastern Front.”

  Leroux sighed. “Good.” He turned to Tong. “Evac is ready?”

  She nodded. “The USS Newport News is off the coast, waiting for the go ahead.”
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  Leroux clasped his fingers over his stomach, staring at the displays, satisfied. Everything was going according to plan so far. Delta was on the ground, en route to the Burj Khalifa, Acton and Palmer, and they assumed Karlsson, were all still contained within a single room, and their evac plan was in place. If all went well, they might effect the rescue with no one knowing.

  After all, the Saudis wouldn’t run to the UAE authorities complaining their kidnapping plot had failed.

  Unfortunately, from his experience, there were simply too many variables in play, and all it took was for one thing to not go according to plan for everything to head south quickly.

  Child pointed at the display, two red dots tracking the SUVs led by Sherrie. “They’re almost there. Let’s hope this goes nice and smooth.”

  Tong frowned. “Not a chance. Maybe if they had time to plan something, sure, but they’ve only had maybe an hour to slap something together.”

  Child spun in his chair. “Yeah, but that’s what these guys train for.”

  Tong waved a finger. “Oh, don’t get me wrong, they’ll succeed, but my money’s on ugly.”

  Sherrie’s voice interrupted them. “Control, this is Coyote-One. The foxes are in the henhouse, over.”

  Leroux chuckled at the unorthodox update from the love of his life. “Getting creative, are we?”

  “Numbers are just so boring. Heading to Point Alpha. Out.”

  Leroux watched the tapped security footage as the four-member Delta team boarded an elevator without incident.

  And so it begins.

  51 |

  Burj Khalifa, Room 142E Dubai, United Arab Emirates

  Acton stood with his back to the window, Laura beside him, Karlsson still in the next room, the sounds of the beating he was receiving gut wrenching.

  “Please, stop!” cried Laura, tears streaming down her face. “You’re killing him!”

  “Give us the code, and we’ll stop.”