48 |
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.”