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Karlsson Residence
Stockholm, Sweden
Present Day

 

Viggo Karlsson sat in his Stressless Voyager recliner, his feet up, his eyes half closed as two fingers of Good ol’ Sailor Vodka rested on the left arm, the remote control for the TV on his right. He was exhausted but content. It had been a good day, and his friend was arriving tomorrow morning. It was a reunion he was looking forward to.

“Why don’t you go to bed?”

His head lolled to the side and he smiled at his wife, Mira. “Trying to get rid of me?”

She grunted. “You’ve been gone most of the evening.”

He returned the chair to an upright position. “I’m sorry, dear, but it was a big day at the dig.”

“It always is.”

He regarded her. “Do I detect a hint of frustration?”

She looked up from her book. “You detect a hint of something, that’s for sure.”

His eyes narrowed and he put his drink on the end table, leaning closer to her. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

She huffed, shoving her bookmark into the pages and snapping the book shut. “I’m old.”

He stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

“I realize I don’t look like I used to when we first met, and men have needs, and maybe I just don’t interest you anymore.”

His eyes widened. “Huh?” He could think of nothing else to say.

“I realize why you’d want to spend as much time with her as possible. I mean, she’s gorgeous. Far more so than I ever was. I could even understand it if you were to have an affair with her. After all, you’re a man. Why, I think—”

He held up a hand, cutting her off. “Are you talking about Elsa?”

She stared at him. “Of course I am. Why, is there another?”

He laughed, rising from his chair and taking a knee in front of her. He took her hands in his and held them to his chest, but not before giving them a kiss. “You silly, not old woman. Elsa is beautiful, yes, but she’s a kid. I’m over twice her age.”

She scowled at him. “I should say closer to thrice.”

He laughed. “Exactly! I have no eyes for anyone but you, my dear, and never doubt that. I don’t spend time with Elsa, I spend time at my dig site with my students. It just happens that my most senior student is Elsa. Next year it could be some handsome gentleman that might catch your fancy.”

She smiled slightly. “Now that sounds promising.”

He chuckled, gripping her hands tightly. “So, you’re okay? We’re okay?”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m just feeling sorry for myself.” She sighed. “I should never have retired early.”

“Yes, you should have. You just shouldn’t have stopped working on your book. When was the last time you wrote anything?”

She shrugged. “Months, I guess.” She groaned, leaning her head back. “I’m going crazy in this house. I need to do something.”

“Then I suggest you start writing again. You were always happy behind the keyboard.”

She sighed, then nodded. “You’re right. I think I will. There’s a lot I’d like to share before I meet my maker, and I’m not getting any younger.”

He smiled then rose, groaning from the aches and pains that had rapidly formed just by taking a knee.

“Are you okay?”

He grunted. “I’m the one who’s getting old. I am ten months older than you.”

She laughed. “You did like them young, Professor.”

He shook his head, returning to his chair, then realized he had forgotten to mention the big news of the day. “Speaking of young professors, I forgot to mention that Jim Acton is arriving tomorrow morning to tour the site. He’s bringing his new wife, Laura Palmer.”

She brightened at the news. “That’s wonderful! Will I get a chance to see them?”

His tension eased at her improved mood. “Of course. They’ll be here for two nights. We’ll have dinner with them, I’m sure, at least one of those nights, if not both. I know he’d love to see you.”

She sighed. “It’s been a while.” She held up her aging hands. “I look so old!”

He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t you start again!”

She frowned. “Fine, you’re right.”

The phone rang and he glanced at the call display, not recognizing the number. He answered. “Hello?”

“Hello, Professor Karlsson, my name is Abdullah Al-Jubeir. I am the Chargé D’affaires at the Saudi Arabian Embassy in Stockholm. I apologize for the late hour, but I would like to arrange a meeting with you at your earliest convenience.”

His eyes widened slightly. “I’m not sure what for. What could we possibly have to discuss?”

“I think you’ll find we have much to discuss. Your recent find, for one thing.”

Karlsson tensed and his stomach churned. “H-how do you know about that?”

“One of your students blogged about it and one of our staff noticed.”

“But we only just found it.” His eyes narrowed. “And why is your staff monitoring my students?”

The man laughed. “Oh, it’s nothing so nefarious, I assure you. We use Google Alerts for anything that might be of interest to the Kingdom. The discovery of an Islamic artifact in Sweden certainly does qualify, don’t you think? At least from an intellectual standpoint?”

Karlsson pursed his lips. “I suppose so. Again, I fail to see what we have to discuss.”

“The Ambassador is eager to meet with you, and congratulate you on your discovery. It shows how our two cultures have been linked for over a millennium, and in these troubled times, I think anything that can peacefully link our two societies is something to be celebrated, and not hidden away, don’t you agree?”

Karlsson wasn’t certain he did. “I suppose so.”

“Wonderful! Could you come tomorrow morning, nine o’clock?”

Karlsson frowned. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Excellent. The Ambassador will be so pleased. Have a good evening, Professor.”

The call ended and he hung up the phone, staring at it for several moments.

“Who was that?”

He flinched then looked at his wife. “The Saudi Embassy.”

Her mouth opened slightly. “What did they want?”

They want to meet.”

She paled slightly. “Meet? About what?”

“About our discovery. The ring, I guess.”

She shook her head vehemently. “Absolutely not! You can’t meet with those people. They’re barbarians!”

He frowned. “Now, now, we shouldn’t say things like that.”

“But it’s true! You know what they did to that poor man in Turkey. He went inside their embassy and he never came out.” She held up a finger. “Correction. He did come out. In pieces!”

He sighed. She was right. These were not people who could be trusted. But he was an academic, not an activist journalist. A Swedish citizen, born and raised, not a Saudi citizen. This was Sweden, not Turkey. He had never criticized the Saudi regime. There was no reason for them to do anything to him. “I’m sure I have nothing to worry about.”

“Are you willing to take that risk?”

He frowned, another more likely outcome occurring to him. “I’m not sure it’s wise to upset these people.”

“Why? Because they could hurt you? Kill you?”

He smiled slightly. “No, nothing so harsh. But they do control a lot of money, and wield a lot of power. Upsetting them by not showing up, might get me blackballed somehow. Do you realize how many foreign students we have at the university? How much they pay for their tuition? It helps fund so many of our programs, it might be the University President that I have to fear.” He shook his head. “No, I have to go. And besides, there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll go, see what they have to say, then meet Jim and Laura at the airport.” He smiled. “I’ll use them as my excuse to leave.”

His wife stared at him as if he had grown a second head. “I still think you’re a fool.”

“But you love me anyway.”

She grunted. “I suppose.” She jabbed a finger at the air between them. “Just don’t go getting yourself killed on me. I’m bored enough as it is!”