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“There is a man out there who will have a gun on you at all times. If you do anything other than hug your father he will shoot you. We don’t want to make a big scene. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Rapp looked at his watch. There was no man with a gun of course, but Waheed would never know that. “Are you ready to take a walk?”
“Yes.”
Rapp cut the flex cuffs on Waheed’s wrists and said, “You know I’d just as soon kill you, so don’t do anything stupid.” With his knife still in hand Rapp acted as if he was straightening Waheed’s robes. His free hand slid between the folds and checked something on the Saudi’s vest. Rapp put the knife away and opened the back door. The mosque would begin to empty in a few minutes. He helped Waheed edge his way to the back tailgate. With his sunglasses, dark skin, robes, and black beard Rapp fit right in. He let Waheed sit there for twenty seconds, his feet resting on the ground. Rapp did not give him sunglasses. He wanted Saeed to recognize his son. Grabbing him under the arm, Rapp helped him to his feet. In the shade the heat wasn’t too bad and in fact Rapp hoped it would help speed the bloodflow to Waheed’s legs.
The first step was not good. Waheed’s legs buckled and Rapp had to move quickly to get under him so he didn’t drop to the pavement. Rapp stood him up against the back of the van, closing one of the rear cargo doors.
“Small steps,” Rapp said. He moved Waheed away from the van and closed the other door.
Waheed put one hand against the side of the van and started to walk while Rapp had a firm grip on his left side. He made it past the van to a palm tree and stopped there for a few seconds.
“Remember…nothing stupid.”
Waheed’s eyes were slowly adjusting to the light. “Why are you doing this?”
“Let’s just say the king likes your father and leave it at that.”
Waheed smiled, proud that his release had been secured by none other than the king of Saudi Arabia. This news seemed to give Waheed a much-needed boost in energy. They made it to the corner of the building. A security camera was mounted above their heads. Rapp wasn’t worried. Waheed stood up on his own for the first time. He looked across the street at the beautiful mosque has father had built and was overcome with emotion.
He started to weep and Rapp said, “Come on. There’ll be time for that later. Don’t fuck this thing up.”
Rapp led him around the corner. There was a fountain in front of the building ringed by stone benches. If for some reason Waheed was unable to stand, Rapp would leave him there and let the father come to him. They stood by the fountain for a minute. Rapp pulled out a bottle of water and gave the Saudi another drink.
“How do you feel?”
“Better.” He blinked repeatedly under the bright Saudi sky.
The front door to the mosque opened and two men appeared. “It won’t be long now,” Rapp said. “You are to stay on this side of the street. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“If you try to cross the street you will be shot. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Rapp thought he detected a faraway, drugged-out look in Waheed’s eyes. “What will happen if you cross the street?”
“I will be shot.”
“Good.” Several more men came out of the mosque. Rapp felt his pulse begin to quicken. He was carrying his silenced Glock 9mm, two extra clips, forty-nine rounds total, and the knife. Rapp felt Waheed begin to sway and he firmly grabbed hold of his bicep. “Do you need to sit?”
“No. I’m fine.” Waheed widened his stance.
There was now a constant stream of men coming out of the mosque. Rapp had only seen pictures of the father before, but even if he’d met him in person he wasn’t sure it would have done any good. All the headdresses, white robes, beards, and sunglasses made it difficult to get a good look at anyone. That was also why the security camera gave Rapp little concern. As Rapp had predicted, though, the father traveled with an entourage. Both doors were opened for him and he left the mosque with a man on each side and a procession of people following him. Rapp felt Waheed stiffen. He turned to see if there was recognition in his eyes. There was.
“Stay calm,” Rapp told him. “When he’s halfway across the street I will leave your side. That will be the signal for your people to release the hostage. If you take a step in any direction other than to greet your father you will be shot.”
“What hostage?” Waheed asked, suddenly confused over this new twist.
There was no hostage, but Rapp wanted to keep Waheed’s mind occupied. Speaking out of the side of his mouth Rapp said, “You don’t think I’d give you back without getting something in return, do you?”
The father spoke briefly with several people and then started across the street with a trail of at least a dozen men. Rapp stood his ground. If the father continued on a straight line, he would pass five feet to Rapp’s right. Rapp checked Waheed one last time. “Remember, no sudden moves. Once he’s all the way across the street and on the sidewalk you may go to him. Not a moment sooner.” The father was halfway across the street. Rapp stepped away from Waheed and said, “Good luck.” Under his breath he whispered, “I hope you and your father enjoy hell.”
Rapp had noted the slow pace of the father. He moved away from Waheed at a brisk pace, but not anything that would attract attention. Exactly four paces away, Rapp retrieved a remote detonator from his pocket. He glanced down at the remote and pressed the first button on the left. The bars lit up on the small screen, telling him the signal was good. The trickiest part about setting off a remotely detonated bomb was usually arming it. That was why he had waited until the last possible moment.
