The Viking Deception

by J. Robert Kennedy

Dawson shook his head. “I can’t agree to this.”

  “You have to.” Acton patted him on the shoulder. “Save your men. And if things go south, don’t risk your lives to save us. This is my stupid decision.”

  Laura leaned into the conversation. “Ours. Get out of here, but take Viggo with you.”

  Acton turned to Al-Zayani before Dawson could object further. “I want you to let them take my friend. Professor Karlsson has no idea where the ring is, and needs medical help. Let my friends provide that to him.”

  The sheik turned to Al-Numairy. “Is he under arrest?”

  Al-Numairy shook his head, still confused. “No, just these two.”

  “And the others?”

  “If they’re responsible for what happened at the Burj Khalifa, then I can’t—”

  Al-Zayani cut him off. “Those that were killed worked for me. I understand they had an internal dispute and turned on each other.”

  The chief’s jaw dropped at the ridiculous story. “Umm, okay. And the, umm, explosion?”

  Dawson cleared his throat. “A gas leak, I would assume.”

  Al-Numairy’s head bobbed rapidly, pleased with the lie being spun. “Yes, yes, of course. If this is the case, which I’m sure it is, then no, we have no reason to arrest these men. They may go.” He waved his hands at the Delta team. “They must go.”

  Acton turned to Dawson and pointed at Karlsson. “Take him and your men, and get to safety.”

  Dawson shook his head slowly. “I still think this is a mistake.”

  “It may be, but just tell your superiors that I refused to cooperate.” He grinned. “They know me, it isn’t exactly out of character.”

  Dawson chuckled. “You do have a point.” He became serious. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He turned to Laura. “And you?”

  “Save yourselves. I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you or your men because of us.”

  Dawson chewed his cheek for a moment. “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

  The tension in Acton’s shoulders eased slightly. “Good. Now get out of here before they change their minds.”

  Sherrie shook Acton’s hand then Laura’s. “Good luck, Professors.” She climbed into the driver’s seat as Dawson pointed at the SUV Karlsson had arrived in.

  “Get him inside. We’re leaving, now.” He shook both their hands. “Just remember. If the shit hits the fan, hit the deck.”

  Acton nodded. “Good advice at any time.”

  Dawson slapped him on the shoulder then climbed into Sherrie’s SUV as Atlas and Niner helped Karlsson into the back seat of the second vehicle. Within moments, both SUVs were slowly pulling away, the crowd of police parting for them, nobody quite believing what was taking place.

  Acton held his breath, silently praying for this minor miracle to not fall apart, then suppressed a smile as they added a bit of speed, clearing the area, their taillights disappearing in the distance.

  Laura took his hand, squeezing it, as they now stood alone, facing far too many guns, with no cover to hide behind should the sheik not keep his word.

  Al-Zayani turned to him. “Now, Professor, it’s your turn.”

  Acton nodded and Laura pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. He took it and stepped forward, holding it out for Al-Zayani. The man snapped his fingers and one of his men rushed forward, snatching it from Acton, then handing it to his master.

  He doesn’t even want indirect contact with us infidels.

  “What is this?” asked Al-Zayani, holding up the paper.

  “The claim number for the message we sent.”

  “And how do I claim it?”

  “Just go to Western Union, give them the name of the Chargé D’affaires in Stockholm, Abdullah Al-Jubeir, as well as that claim number, and the password.”

  Al-Zayani growled. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “You’ll have to make the time. This is the deal. It takes you time to get the ring, and that allows us to get to the airport and on a plane to safety. Everybody wins. Eventually.”

  “What is the password?”

  Acton smiled. “Charlie-Foxtrot.” It had been a lie that they had split the code, an on the fly bluff that had become necessary when it was clear things weren’t going to go their way back at the Burj Khalifa. “Now you have all you need. Can we go with the police chief?”

  Al-Zayani ignored him, one of his men stepping forward, his phone in hand. Words were exchanged, then the paper was taken and a call made. He returned a few minutes later as Acton and Laura stood, the tension in the air palpable as no one spoke, and Acton’s question remained unanswered.

  His heart sank as a piece of paper was handed over, and he realized what was going on.

  They were doing everything over the phone, and not in person as he had expected.

  And it made sense.

  Everything was done over the phone now, so why not message retrieval? With the claim number and the code, there was no reason for anyone to suspect anything untoward was happening. He should have thought of that, but was a product of his generation, forgetting there was an app for everything.

  There goes a perfect plan.

  Al-Zayani held up the paper. “What’s this number?”

  Acton sighed, deciding it was best to go with the truth. “It’s a FedEx package number. Just have your man track it, and it will tell you where I sent the package. Mr. Al-Jubeir can pick it up. It’s in his name.”

  The phone expert once again took over, and his eyes widened. “It’s at the Nobis Hotel in Stockholm.”

  Acton smiled slightly as Al-Zayani realized the ring had been at the hotel they were staying at the entire time. Before clearing security in Stockholm, they had hatched their plan, deciding couriering it to their hotel’s front desk was safest—not to mention it was the only address they knew in the city. “That’s right. It’s being held at the front desk. Mr. Al-Jubeir—”

  Al-Zayani barked orders in Arabic, and a wave of trepidation washed over Acton. He had expected things to flow much slower than they were, giving them time to get to the airport and the hell out of Dodge, but none of that was happening.

  His plan was failing.

  Spectacularly.

  “They’re calling Stockholm,” muttered Laura.

  “Yeah. Do you think they have someone at our hotel?”

  “I wouldn’t put it past them. And the embassy is only a few minutes away regardless. What do we do if they get the ring before we get a chance to leave?”

  Acton shook his head slightly. “I’m not sure. Hope he keeps his word?”

  “Do you think he will?”

  “I have no idea.” He lowered his voice further. “I still have my gun.”

  “So do I, but neither of us have enough bullets and enough luck for that to work out.”

  Acton grunted. “It all depends on how scared this police chief is of the sheik. He has more guns here.”

  “I think he’s petrified of the man. He’ll be useless if this goes sideways.”

  Acton frowned. “Agreed.” He was now regretting sending Dawson away, though in his heart of hearts he knew it was still the right thing to have done. Karlsson was safe now, and so were the operators who had become such good friends. If anyone was dying tonight, it would only be him and Laura. He took her hand and squeezed it three times.

  I. Love. You.

  She returned the discrete message, leaning a little closer to him as everyone waited. A shout of triumph erupted from the man on the phone, and smiles abounded as apparently the ring had been retrieved successfully.

  Acton stepped slightly closer to the police chief, bringing Laura with him. “I assume you have what is yours?”

  Al-Zayani nodded. “We do.”

  “And we’re free to go?”

  Al-Zayani pursed his lips. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

  Acton tensed. “I thought we had a deal.”

  Al-Zayani laughed. “Prof
essor Acton, what do you think is going on here? When your friend was invited to the embassy and refused to hand over the ring, his fate was sealed. He was on a plane here before you even knew he was missing, thus avoiding any problems like were encountered in Istanbul. He was our leverage to get the ring. We hadn’t yet figured out who we were going to use, then you stormed into our embassy, inserting yourself into the situation. The moment you did that, your fate was sealed as well.”

  “If that fate is death, then why did you let Karlsson go?”

  “Did I really let him go? I have many followers in Sweden. One word from me, and he’s dead.”

  Acton shook his head. “I thought the word of an Al-Zayani was enough?”

  Al-Zayani smiled. “When dealing with a Muslim, yes, but as the Koran teaches us, lying to the kafir is permitted.” He snapped his fingers as he turned, heading for his vehicle. “Kill them.”

  Weapons rose as Acton spun, diving toward Laura and knocking her to the ground. The sand between them was suddenly torn apart by dozens of rounds, sending police and hostiles alike scattering. Acton took advantage, grabbing Laura by the hand and racing for the cover of the police chief’s vehicle parked nearby.

  And as they took cover, his chest ached with the pride he felt at this very moment as he realized Dawson and his men had never abandoned them, and were instead still nearby, protecting them as they so often did.

  Another siren wailed in the distance and Acton glanced over his shoulder to see several police vehicles speeding toward the scene as the gunfire stopped, the police chief giving orders for his men to hold their fire, the hostiles peering into the darkness, trying to find the Delta team, made all the more difficult by six sets of headlights illuminating everything.

  The new arrivals skidded to a halt, the doors opening and a new set of police arriving.

  And one familiar voice.

  “What the bloody hell is going on here?”

  Acton’s chest heaved with relief at the sound of their friend, Hugh Reading. His booming voice silenced the confusion that threatened to erupt into an all-out gun battle in the Mexican standoff in which they found themselves.

  Someone with Reading began shouting orders in Arabic as their friend spotted them.

  But there was no smile, just a glare.

  He marched over to them. “Professors Acton and Palmer, at the request of the Swedish Police Authority, and under the authority granted me by Interpol, I am hereby placing you under arrest for armed robbery and attempted murder.”

  Acton, still taking cover behind the police chief’s car with Laura, stared up at him, not sure what to say.

  “Get on your bloody feet!”

  Acton stood, his gun gripped in his hand.

  “Drop that, you daft bastard!” hissed Reading.

  Acton complied, kicking it under the vehicle as Laura did the same with hers. Reading motioned to some of the new arrivals, who quickly cuffed them. He leaned closer, his voice low. “Keep your mouths shut. You don’t know me.”

  Acton said nothing as they were led to Reading’s car, an argument erupting behind them. A shot rang out and Reading shoved them both to the ground, covering Laura with his body as more weapons opened fire behind them.

  Acton twisted to see what was happening, his view blocked by the chief’s car, all he could see were the feet of those still alive, and the bodies of those already taken out.

  Sniper rifles belched deadly lead in the distance as Bravo Team joined the fight, and Acton watched as man after man of the sheik’s team were felled, the gunfire dwindling until there was none.

  Reading immediately rose, still crouched over, and ushered them into the car. “Let’s get to the airport, now!”

  The driver stared at him, clearly unsure of what to do. One of the men Reading had arrived with shouted at the driver and the car was put into gear. Within moments, the scene was behind them, the surviving police left to deal with the mess and the lies that had been told to save them.

  But they weren’t safe yet.

  61 |

  Dubai International Airport Dubai, United Arab Emirates

  Reading sat beside his friends, both handcuffed, both sitting in silence as they all waited for the plane to take off. They had made it to the airport without incident, and his credentials and some phone calls on his behalf from his Interpol contact Khalil Zakaria, had greased the wheels enough to get them on an Emirates flight to Stockholm.

  It had been hours since the firefight, and he was still expecting this to all fall apart. According to Zakaria’s last update, the sheik and his entourage were dead, as were over a dozen police officers. Acton’s “security team” had taken out most of the sheik’s men, but not before they turned their weapons on the police surrounding them. Nobody knew exactly what had happened, beyond a story apparently woven by Acton and the deceased satisfying enough people to delay things long enough for their escape.

  Yet it wasn’t exactly an escape.

  His friends were innocent of any crimes here in Dubai, though they were definitely guilty of something in Stockholm. He was dying to know what had happened, what they had been thinking.

  Attempted murder? Armed robbery?

  None of it sounded like his friends, yet here he sat, his friends in handcuffs, awaiting delivery into Swedish law enforcement’s hands.

  The door finally closed and the jetway pulled back. He spotted Laura’s hand grip Acton’s, and he resisted the urge to give them an encouraging look.

  For he didn’t have any to give.

  He still wasn’t convinced they were getting away with this. In fact, he wouldn’t be until they landed in Stockholm. Until then, it was still possible they could be turned around, as it was an Emirates flight, under control of the UAE, not officials in Sweden who could be trusted.

  The plane began to taxi and he gripped the armrests, praying for an uneventful takeoff. He felt Laura’s hand on his and he squeezed it, the entire plane vibrating as they roared down the runway. A sigh of relief escaped as the nose gear lifted off the ground and moments later they cleared the runway and roared into the night sky.

  He opened his eyes and looked about to see who was within earshot, finding everyone concerned with their own business. He leaned closer to his friends. “Now, what the bloody hell happened that I’ve had to arrest my two best friends?”

  Acton frowned. “You mean this is serious?”

  Reading’s eyes widened. “You think this is a joke? This is dead serious. Those charges I said are real. You’re wanted for armed robbery and attempted murder back in Sweden. When this plane lands, I have to hand you over.”

  Laura’s eyes bulged. “But that’s not what happened at all!”

  Reading drew a deep breath through his nose. “Then what did?”

  The story spilled out as they gained altitude, and when he had finally heard it all, his questions answered, he wasn’t convinced his friends wouldn’t yet see the inside of a courtroom.

  62 |

  Holding Cell, Stockholm Arlanda Airport Stockholm, Sweden

  Acton sat with Laura in a holding cell at the Stockholm Arlanda Airport. They hadn’t seen Reading in hours, though were being treated well. As soon as they had explained to their friend what had happened, he had spent much of the remainder of the flight on the phone with his partner in London, and his contacts elsewhere.

  And yet despite that, they had still been escorted off the plane by Swedish authorities, though not until the rest of the plane had been emptied, saving them the embarrassment of yet more footage uploaded to the Internet.

  Though there was still the footage from Dubai.

  As soon as it hit YouTube, it would live on forever, and despite their antics during the arrest, it was still humiliating.

  How am I going to explain that to my students?

  He grunted.

  Or Greg?

  “What?”

  He turned to Laura. “Just thinking of what Greg’s going to say when he finds out what happened.”<
br />
  Laura chuckled. “I wonder what the Smithsonian is going to say.”

  He sighed. “Hopefully we can get this straightened out.” He cursed. “If only I hadn’t put that guy in a sleeper hold. I think they’re going to say I tried to break his neck, but only stopped because that woman walked in and interrupted me.”

  “Well, I’m the one who pretended to have a gun and threatened to shoot her if she moved.” Laura tossed her head back in frustration. “What was I thinking?”

  Acton frowned. “We were both putting on a show for the Saudi cameras.” His shoulders slumped. “We’re both screwed.”

  The door opened and Reading stepped in.

  Acton leaned forward. “Please tell me you have good news.”

  Reading dropped into a chair opposite them, the poor man looking haggard, as tired as Acton had ever seen him. “You two are going to be the death of me.”

  Acton grinned. “You love us and you know it.”

  Reading eyed him for a moment then shook his head. “Here’s what’s happened since I’ve been gone. Your friend, Professor Karlsson, arrived in Stockholm on a civilian charter.”

  Acton sighed, exchanging an excited hug with Laura. “Thank God! That means the guys got out despite the bastards tricking me.”

  Laura smiled. “We’re lucky BD had a better read on the sheik than you did.”

  Acton frowned. “I was an idiot.”

  Laura patted his leg. “Your instinct is to trust. That’s not a bad thing.”

  Acton grunted. “With the number of untrustworthy people we’ve met over the past few years, I’d say I’m a fool for sticking with that habit.”

  Reading leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “And I’d agree. But lucky for you, the woman who walked in on you, who claimed you were trying to kill the guard, and that you”—he gave Laura a look—“put a gun to her back, is actually a grad student of Professor Karlsson’s, and once she found out what was really going on from him, she recanted her entire story.”

  Acton’s eyebrows shot up. “Huh?”

  Reading grinned. “She said she never actually saw a gun, and that she realized after the fact that the guard was already on the floor when she walked in on you. The guard has agreed to drop the charges now that he knows you were trying to save the professor.”