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Leonardo da Vinci–Fiumicino Airport
Rome, Italy

 

Reading sat at his gate, exhausted, waiting for his flight to Stockholm to board. He was debating contacting his partner and having her courier his CPAP machine from London to Sweden, no matter what the cost.

He needed his rest not only for his own health, but to be at his best should his friends need him.

His phone vibrated and he checked the call display, smiling at Michelle’s number. He swiped his thumb. “Please tell me you’ve got good news.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it good news, but I’ve got news.”

Reading’s shoulders slumped. “Bloody hell. What now?”

“I have them on Emirates flight one-five-eight to Dubai, arriving in five hours.”

His eyes shot wide. “Dubai?”

“Yup.”

“Why the bloody hell would they be heading there?”

“No idea, but Interpol has requested they be picked up when they arrive. I’ve pulled some strings and got you a flight there. It leaves in thirty minutes.”

He pushed to his feet. “Who’d you have to sleep with to arrange that?”

“Nobody. You, on the other hand, will be putting out for weeks once you get back here.”

He chuckled. “Send me the details. Hopefully, I can wrangle them away from the Dubai authorities before anything too harsh is done to them.”

“The ticket should be on your phone already. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He ended the call, tossing his personally paid for ticket to Stockholm in the garbage.

There’s a month’s rent gone.

But that wasn’t what was bothering him. Something else was. He knew his friends, and they weren’t stupid. They had to have known they’d be flagged and arrested the moment they stepped off the airplane. And why would they have left Sweden?

They had to have been coerced into it. For some reason, the Saudis wanted to exchange the ring for the professor in Dubai, instead of Sweden.

And that likely meant they had a plan already in place to address the Interpol issue.

He checked his new flight’s arrival time.

And cursed.

They’d beat him by almost half an hour.