A/N: So many of you have guessed about who Ana is with and where they are headed. Carol222 guessed Ana's traveling mate correctly. No one guessed the travel location. That's because this is the beginning of the story taking a hard right turn that nobody could expect.

Moving forward, COVID is going to play a major role in this story. I am going to take a lot of liberties regarding the actual virus, the global timeline for the pandemic, and the reactions of different countries. I feel like I need to say this now: this story is fiction. The real facts surrounding COVID and what is currently happening are different than what you will read in this story. Again, this story is a work of fiction. I will be taking A LOT of artistic liberties regarding the COVID pandemic, international reactions, self-isolation, etc., etc., etc. I know that this may drive some of you to drink, but hopefully it will make for a more entertaining story. Let us proceed. Thank you for reading along.

As always, your reviews, your follows, and your favorites are what propels me forward. Much love and stay safe!

Chapter 17

Dubai, Bye

After two flight changes and 23 hours of travel, José and I navigate through customs and collect our checked baggage. We exit into the bright sun outside of the Dubai International Airport. We find our driver and head to what has to be the nicest hotel in the history of man. After checking into our suite, neither of us has the energy to do more than shower before we crash hard. I have a hard time believing that just 36 hours ago, I was naively planning to make dinner for Christian so that we could talk and, hopefully, move forward from the Foolish chaos.

******FLASHBACK*****

"Ana, can I talk to you for a minute?" José asks.

"Sure." He nods down the hall to indicate that he wants to talk away from our friends gathered in the living room.

Alone in my room, José proposes his plan to me."

"Look, I have just booked a gig overseas. It is very last minute. I fly out tomorrow morning. Would you want to come with me? I'll need an assistant to help with the equipment and all. The booking vendor will pay for your travel. I have a budget in the contract to afford to pay you for the work."

"Hum…where overseas?" I query.

"The UAB."

"The UAB? As in the United Arab Emirates?" José nods. "Wow, that's quite an opportunity. How long would we be gone?"

"A little over a week. It takes a full day of travel each way. The shoot is scheduled for three days. Since the majority of the pictures are outdoors, we are scheduling two more days in case of weather or what not." José explains.

"Is this a fashion shoot? Why so last minute with the booking?" I want to know.

"The original photographer had to cancel just yesterday. He is stuck in China because of the Corona-19 travel restrictions that just went into effect."

"How did you get this gig? I mean, I think you are amazingly talented, but this seems pretty exotic compared to the other gigs that you book."

I hope that my question does not offend my friend. It seems like a big jump to go from doing shoots for Seattle publications to shooting half way around the world. Wait, is the UAB half way around the world? Shrimp and grits, I need a globe, stat.

"A friend of mine from art school works for a pretty hot fashion designer in the Middle East. They got a contract designing the new crew uniforms for Emirates airlines. It is a pretty big deal, because Emirates is known to have the most beautiful flight attendants and caters to big bucks travelers so the uniforms are getting a lot of press. The airline wants the pictorials of the uniforms to highlight some of the amazing landscapes throughout the UAB. That's what made my friend think of me. She knows how much I love landscape photography but that I also do a lot of fashion photography to help pay the bills."

José goes on to tell me how much the job of his assistant will pay. The rate is enough to make me consider going along. It's not like I have many other employment opportunities in my near future. I tell José that I will think about it. We agree not to tell our friends lest they try to dissuade me from fleeing the problems that continue to plague me state-side.

*****END OF FLASHBACK*****

Had I not been living in my own little bubble for the past several weeks, perhaps I would have been following the growing COVID concerns coming out of China. Alas, this is not the case. Although the virus has not yet left the confines of mainland China, it seems that health officials are predicting China's epidemic will soon go global.

We learn how seriously the world is taking the COVID concerns on our first night in Dubai. José and I venture out to find dinner. Everyone around us is donning surgical masks. While we were sleeping off our travel, the health ministry released a declaration advising that everyone wear the masks in public. By the next morning, José's photo shoot is paused after stay-at home orders are issued.

Soon after we receive news of the delays for the photo shoot, our hotel delivers us a COVID care package to the suite. It is stocked with masks, hand sanitizer, and things to keep us occupied like playing cards and Sudoku puzzles. All food will be delivered to our suite until further notice. How depressing! We traveled all the way to Dubai only to get grounded in place at our hotel.

I try my hardest not to let my mind wander to Christian. I have no doubt that I love him. When we are apart, I fell like I am not whole. When we are together, everything feels better. Unfortunately, being together is not stopping Leila's relentless attacks. This time, she not only hurt Christian but she had no problem making me collateral damage.

I know that leaving without telling Christian was a dirty thing for me to do. I was weak and spineless. I knew that he would try to talk me out of going. I am not even sure why I left. I want to be with Christian. He wants to be with me. I think that I am just overwhelmed with all of these life changes – Kate getting engaged, me falling in love, losing my job, having such intensely private pictures show up in the media…it all feels so overwhelming.

José and I spend our first full day in Dubai watching the news, playing cards on our balcony, and drinking over-priced cocktails from our mini-bar.

José returns from the balcony where he has been on his phone. I guess that Mr. International Photog can afford a fancy phone plan.

"Ana, I just talked with my agent. He is going to work with the booking clients to get us tickets back to Seattle. He doesn't think it will be hard since one of the clients is Emirates."

"Oh, wow. So, he doesn't think we should stay in case they decide to go through with the shoot?" I ask.

"Actually, he is afraid that we won't be able to get back into the U.S. if we don't go now. The U.S. is going to be issuing strict travel bans in hopes of avoiding the COVID virus from reaching American soil. He wants us home before that happens."

"Oh, are you sure that he is right? I mean, this virus is still limited to just one country, right?"

"My agency is recalling all clients that are booked on international jobs right now. They say it is the safest thing to do. They don't want anyone getting stuck abroad if the U.S. really does start issuing travel bans."

José and I go ahead and pack our bags while we wait to hear of details for our travel back home. His agent calls back with news that we are booked to fly out on standby. We head back to the airport.
The scene at DBX is vastly different from our arrival. Our driver cannot even make it close to the departures terminal. We end up having to walk the last half a mile through grid locked traffic. Travelers from all over the world are seeking to get back to their home countries. This is the moment that José and I realize how dire the situation really is. Thank goodness for our airline connections. Surely, we will get home before the U.S. closes the borders.

José and I are able to go through security and get to the international terminal based on our stand-by status. We are given passes to wait in the Emirates club lounge which proves vastly superior to the terminal itself. The terminal is stacked waist deep with stranded passengers. Countries are beginning to issue incoming travel bans.

The club lounge is very chic. We set up camp in two plush recliners in a private alcove. The lounge serves free snacks so we are set until we can get booked through on a flight. Swallowing my pride, I call Ray.

"Annie, I'm sorry about how our last phone call went. For a moment, I forgot what it was like to be young and in love. It makes you do stupid things like taking half-naked pictures."

"And running off to Dubai," I confess.

"Dubai, Annie have you no sense at all? How could that Grey fellow let you do something so stupid?" I wince at his 'stupid' comment.

"Daddy, I left without telling Christian. José got a gig here. I came along as his assistant."

"What?! José Senior is not going to be happy when he hears this. At least you two idiots are together," my dad laughs. With that chuckle, I know that I am forgiven for my pictorial transgressions as well as my ill-planned travel abroad.

"Do you think that it is going to be hard for us to catch a flight home? The airport here is crazy packed with people looking to get back to their home countries. What are they saying on the news at home?"

"Annie, you know I don't follow the mainstream media," Ray replies. "I will call my contact at the State Department. He ought to be able to help get you on a flight home."

"Thanks, Daddy."

"Love you, Annie Girl. I'll get back to you as soon as I hear something."

We end the call so that Ray can get up with one of his former military buddies at the State Department. We have nothing to do but wait for my dad's return call.

Ray calls us back in less than an hour. Wow, his contact at the State Department is good.

"Annie, is José nearby?"

"He is right here, Daddy."

"Ok, are y'all somewhere private that you can put me on speaker phone? I need to talk to both of you."

José closes the door to our alcove. I put the phone on speaker.

"Look, you two, I am going to give you a lot of information. Do you have something to write with?" José grabs a pad and pen from his knapsack.

"My buddy can't help you two get on a flight right now. He says that they are inundated with calls like mine. Americans from all over are having trouble getting home. Some are in much less safe situations than your own.

Get on any flight that will get you back on American soil. It doesn't matter where you fly into. The important thing is to get you back before the American borders close. If you can get back to the States, we can figure out a way to get you back to Seattle.

My contact says that your best bets are on flights into either San Fran or Philly. These flights seem to have some availability.

You are going to want to connect through Europe. My buddy says that Asian connections will be the first to stop when the U.S. starts issuing bans on incoming flights. Avoid connections through Italy. The CDC is predicting Italy will be the first European COVID hotspot. France seems to be your safest bet for a stop-over.

No matter what, keep your passport on your person. Do not store it in a bag. That's too risky for getting it stolen. You don't want anything to delay your re-entry.

Ok, here is what I want you to write down. I have two contacts for you. The first is a friend at the American Embassy in Dubai. Worst case scenario, if you can't get out of Dubai, you can use this contact to gain access into the Embassy compound. Once you are in the Embassy, this is considered American soil. If you are in the Embassy, you will qualify to get home on humanitarian flights if it comes to that.

Now this second contact is your last resort. I am going to give you his contact info just in case you can't get out of Dubai and you can't get to the Embassy. This guy, he can help you get somewhere safe to wait this out. Exhaust every option before you reach out to him. Do you both understand?"

José is feverishly writing down the information for Ray's two contacts. We both say "yes, sir". We are the children of career soldiers. We understand our own roles when we are being issued direct orders.

"One more thing, Annie. José Senior and I are going Code Delta until this COVID crisis is behind us. Do you understand? We are Code Delta."

"Yes, sir. I understand. Code Delta. I love you, Daddy," I reply trying not to let Ray hear the fear in my voice.

"I love you, too, Annie girl. Stay safe."

The phone call ends with an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. Both José and I are familiar with Code Delta. Our fathers served several tours together during their active military service. Code Delta is the plan that they used to communicate home when on covert missions.

Now that our fathers are retired from active duty, Code Delta has evolved into an emergency action plan. When activated, Ray and José Senior intend to go 'off the grid.' They will head off to a remote fishing cabin that they keep pre-stocked with enough supplies to sustain them indefinitely. They will supplement their diet with fish. They even have the supplies to grow a vegetable garden. The exact location of this cabin is known only to themselves and a few other military buddies with cabins nearby.

Code Delta also means a very proscribed means of communication. On certain days, at certain times, our dads will hike to a location with a battery-operated radio. They will use the radio to relay messages to a contact with a satellite phone. That contact will then send a communication email a burner email for either me or José. We can respond to the emails. These messages will be relayed back by radio on preset dates and times. While Code Delta seems very complicated, both José and I have spent our lives going through practice drills and running through different Code Delta scenarios. We are ready to activate the plan.

What scares me about Code Delta is that my dad feels like this is the necessary time to invoke its use. Whatever his friend at the State Department said about COVID, it was bad enough for Ray and José Senior to go Code Delta.

Over the next 36 hours, José and I spend the majority of our time trying to get on flights only to be bumped because of our stand-by status. We have Frederic and Kate working from their end to try to get us out. At this point, I would hop on a chicken train to get back home. If only there were not oceans for us to cross…

José and I are exhausted. We have decided that we are willing to separate if a single seat out becomes available. Our problem seems to be that everyone is calling in favors to get back home.

We are in desperate need of showers and sleep when the news comes across the wires. COVID is now showing up outside of China. Several countries in Asia and Europe are simultaneously reporting outbreaks. The U.S. is banning all incoming international travel. Ehr mah gawd! We are stuck abroad until the COVID crisis is over.

We attempt to get up with Ray's Embassy contact in Dubai. We learn that if we leave the international terminal at the airport and are unable to make it to the Embassy, we will not fall under the immediate protection of the U.S. government. This is important, because we need this protection to be included on humanitarian flights home.

Our fatigue is making it hard for us to decide what to do. Do we attempt to make it to the Embassy or do we shelter in place?

José suggests we contact Frederic for his thoughts on our situation. Luckily, Frederic is with Kate and Elliott when we FaceTime.

Kate is crying as she flits in and out of the background. Frederic tells us that Kate and Elliott have had to indefinitely postpone their wedding due to COVID concerns. They spent the day contacting vendors as well as guests. Kate is nearly hysterical. Elliott looks like he is at his wits end.

My Katie Bug is melting down. No one is getting out her pink bunny pajamas. Why isn't someone pouring her a glass of wine and encouraging her to watch The Devil Wears Prada? People, this is not a drill!

Frederic keeps glancing at something off screen. He tells us that he is working on a plan and tells us to remain within the international terminal until we hear from him again.

Here José and I sit. Surviving off of hors d'oeuvres in the club lounge of an airline that is no longer permitted into U.S. airspace. Seriously, I must have been a serial killer in a past life to earn this kind of karma.

When Frederic FaceTimes us back, Kate appears to be calmer. The two of them huddle together in front of the camera. It is Kate who spells out our plan. Since we can't get in the U.S., we need to go somewhere that is still allowing incoming travelers. Dubai is too expensive for us to stay here indefinitely.

"Ok, guys, we have a place for you to go. It is a small, privately owned island called Barabei. It is in the Maldives off the southern coast of India. Now, the Maldives has closed its border to commercial flights and cruise ships, but they are still allowing in property owners who can travel by private jet. You guys will be allowed in as guests of a property owner."

"Kate, we can't afford a private jet. And who owns this island? We can't stay with some stranger." I shake my head in disbelief. We are not going to go mooch off of some friends of Kate's parents.

"Don't worry," Frederic says. "It is a straight flight from Dubai into the Maldives. We are working on getting you seats on someone's private jet. Most flights stop in Dubai to refuel before flying into the Maldives. With tons of travelers stranded abroad, many people who own property there are loaning it for refuge to friends and acquaintances." Again, I see Frederic glancing at something off camera. It must be a person, because Frederic is handed a piece of paper from that direction.

"Ok, we have found a private flight with room for you both. The plane is scheduled to land in Dubai tomorrow. I am going to email you instructions on what you need to do to get on board. Once you land at the airport in the Maldives, someone will be there to meet you and assist you in getting to Barabei."

"Kate," I ask. "Whose plane is picking us up?"

I fully expect her to say GEH so when she gives me a smug smile and replies, I nearly choke on my tea.

"You will be traveling aboard a plane owned by the Carter-Knowles family." Well, clutch my pearls. Someone get the smelling salts! José and I are carpooling with none other than Jay-Z and Beyoncé.

José and I manage to get some sleep our last night in the Dubai airport. The club lounge staff takes pity on us and gives us access to the crew lounge so we can shower. José insists that I apply lip gloss and mascara to prepare to meet our new plane buddies. I insist that he shave his patchy scruff.

From the club lounge, we are escorted to the private air travel concourse. We are led out onto the tarmac at the international terminal and shepherded into a blacked-out Land Cruiser. Rich people sure do love some window tint.

We are driven past large jumbo jets and through a maze of baggage loaders and ground traffic directors. We drive to the far end of the airport where we are then escorted into a smaller concourse.

Holy Nikes, Batman! We have entered a playground for the filthy rich. We are surrounded by opulence - marble floors, golden fixtures, and plush velvet. We watch as designer clad travelers, flanked by entourages, are guided towards more blacked-out SUVs that ferry them to and from their private planes.

Suddenly, I feel very self-conscious in my Old Navy skinny jeans and Chuck Taylors. My Target knapsack pales in comparison to the carts of high-end luggage that follow the entourages. Hold up, isn't the whole purpose of this trip for me to grow a pair? I stand tall and work my outfit like it came straight from Fashion Week.

"So, do you really think we are about to meet Jay-Z and Beyoncé?" José asks me for the one trillionth time.

"I don't know. It could be that they loaned their plane to someone else. Maybe it is Solange or Beyoncé's agent or something."

Before we have time to further discuss, a perfectly-styled airport representative approaches us. "Mr. Rodriguez? Ms. Steele?" We nod in confirmation. "Please follow me. Your flight is preparing for take-off."

We take another Land Cruiser across the tarmac to a sleek, white jet. The stairs are down and a little red carpet has been placed at the bottom. Nice touch, Carter-Knowles family!

We are greeted on the ground by the Captain and his co-pilot. I am so freaking nervous. Am I about to meet the original Sasha Fierce? Entering the cabin, we are stunned speechless when the occupants cry, "Surprise!" Sitting on the white leather seats are Kate, Elliott, Mia, Frederic, Ethan, and my former CPO Sawyer.

Natalie, the flight attendant, speeds through the pre-flight safety instructions faster than an auctioneer. José and I barely have time to fasten our seat belts before the Captain taxis us to the runway.

It seems like today is a busy day for private flights leaving from Dubai. I guess that even the wealthy are scrambling to get where they need to be before the global pandemic hits. Within minutes we are airborne.

"Ana Banana, did you really think that we were sending Beyonce and Jay-Z to rescue you?" Elliott teases.

"A girl can dream!"

"We didn't lie," Kate says. "This really is Beyonce and Jay-Z's plane. They loaned it to us for the trip."

"Why would they loan you their plane? More importantly, why are you guys here? Are you insane? You know that you are now stuck outside of the U.S. until this COVID mess is over. That could take weeks or even months. Why did Christian let you go?"

Kate and Elliott do that couples thing where they look at each other and silently decide which one of them will speak. Apparently, their eyes decided on Kate.

"Ana, sweat pea, you know that we love you, right?" I nod. Kate continues, "Christian arranged everything – borrowing Beyonce's plane, the private island in Barabai, supplies, everything."

"Kate, who owns the island?" I think I know the answer already. This time their eyes decide Elliott should speak.

"Urh, well, umm, I am not sure who the official owner is on paper but well…"

"Just tell me Elliott. It's Christian, isn't it? Your brother owns Barabai, doesn't he?" Kate and Elliott give me a collective nod.

"Why did Christian send you guys out of the country? Why aren't we using the GEH jet?" I ask.

"Well, you see, the GEH jet was already in use so Christian reached out to his friends to see if anyone would be willing to loan out their plane." Elliott explains. Wait, what? Christian is friends with Jay-Z and Beyonce. Another pearl clutcher.

"Ok, so your brother has fancy friends. It just doesn't seem like Christian to let you leave the country while he stays behind. He must be going crazy knowing that you can't re-enter American soil." I say.

"Well, I can see how that would be frustrating to Christian, if he were on American soil," Kate replies. Geez, getting details from these clowns is like trying to play catch with a Vaseline -covered watermelon.

"Kate, Elliott," I say, using my best mom voice. "What are you not telling me?"

"Christian is already in the Maldives," Elliott blurts out. "He, Taylor, Gail, and some of the other security detail flew over yesterday. His insurance company made him go. Since GEH is privately owned and doesn't have a board, their insurance guys felt like working from an isolated location is the best way to keep Christian safe from COVID. If something happens to Christian, all of GEH is in jeopardy. They also made Ros go somewhere just as far away."

"Why can't Ros come to the Maldives with Christian?" I ask.

"Well, the insurance company needs to know that if something happens to one of them, the other will still be safe. So, they made Ros and Christian go to different parts of the world. Only a very select group of people know where either of them are self-isolating. This whole thing is all very top secret, save the billion-dollar company, hush, hush," Kate replies in her best classified information voice.

I sit back and laugh. I signal for Natalie to refill my champagne flute. In a few more hours, I will be living on a deserted island with the man who I just abandoned in the middle of the night less than a week ago. My father has gone into tactical hiding. I am banned from re-entering my country of origin. If I didn't know better, I might begin to think that Leila Williams caused COVID.