AUTHOR'S NOTES:
This book runs concurrently with Enticements & Obstructions by OhJasperMyJasper and picks up after chapter 13. Events depicted herein are tied into the lives of the central characters from my other book Culture Shock, that take place after chapter 24. If you have not read those, some of what you read here might leave you a bit lost.
Thank you so much to my beloved sister who gives me so much of her time when she has precious little of it.
Thank you to Miss Kate for making sure my Brits sound like Brits.
Hugs always for Maureen and Rebecca.
Anyone who has not read the incredible Equal & Opposite, or is not now reading the brilliance that is Errors & Omissions, or Enticements & Obstructions, all by OhJasperMyJasper, should go do so right now. Links to all are in my profile.
WARNING:
This story is intended for an adult audience! There is crude speech, hate speech and adult sexual subject matter of a homosexual nature. If you are under 18 stop reading now!
AU/AH/OC/Non Magical
All characters from Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling. I just take them out and play with them.
There are actual Arsenal football club players as characters in this book. Real People. Much as I would like to, I do not know them. I do not know anything about them. Their personalities and sexual orientations, as depicted herein, are entirely fictional.
All characters from Twilight belong to Stephenie Meyer. I just play with them too.
Chapter 2: Dubai
The train hurtled out of central London at high speed and whisked them to Heathrow in a mere fifteen minutes. This train made only two stops. They sat and reclined calmly in their seats at the first one, for Terminals One and Three. Terminal Two had long since been closed and there was no stop for Terminal Four. People heading there had to get off at the first stop and transfer to a shuttle. The second stop was directly beneath Terminal Five. Greg and Rick took the long escalator ride up to the Departures level and headed for the nearby British Airways ticket counter. Rick stood by and caught sight of Dré and Vince as they came in from outside. Dré wore a purple polo shirt under a black suit jacket with black jeans. Vince pulled both their suitcases, one large to be checked into the hold and a small rolling carry on. He wore a thin plaid shirt with his sleeves rolled up and snug jeans that hugged his full ass.
"There you chaps are. I thought we'd see you in the train station," Rick greeted.
"We took the National Express out of Victoria. Just had to catch the shuttle over from Central Station," Dré explained.
"Hey, you lot! Get over here. You need to show your passports," Greg called from where he stood nearby at the Club World counter. Rick was quick to hand over his passport.
"Nasir wired you the money, then?" Dré asked as he produced both passports from his suit jacket inner pocket.
"And I already paid for the tickets. You two are in row ten E and F, and Rick and I are in eleven E and F," Greg informed. Dré's face clouded over.
"I had better like these seats, Goyle," Dré warned. "Can you believe my father actually told me he had to check with the Foreign Office to see if it was okay for me to leave the country? Bloody hell, that man," he shook his head.
"Is everything ready on the other end, is my question," Greg countered.
"I have the name of a guy ready to help. Once we get hold of the man's passport, it won't take me five minutes to get his visa," Dré stated.
"That's one thing we can tick off," Greg nodded. The counter agent issued their boarding passes and handed them their tickets with a smile.
"Come on, then. Galleries Lounge is this way," Dré set off and the others took up after him.
"What is that?" Rick asked.
"The British Airways private club. How do you not know that?" Dré demanded.
"Don't we have to be members?" Rick asked. "Are you guys members? I'm not."
"Our Club World tickets make us members for our flights. Jesus, Diggory, haven't you been anywhere?" Dré was caustic.
"I've been across the pond, as you well know, but I've never flown Club World before," Rick stated.
"Neither have I," Greg added.
"Well, c'mon then, chaps. Expand your horizons," Dré led the way to security.
"Have you flown in club before, Vince?" Rick asked as he retrieved his bag last from the x-ray machine.
"Club Europe. Dré's mum flew us to meet her in Italy last year," Vince answered.
"Mum adores Rome," Dré commented as he set off again. They descended to the to the underground concourse that connected 5A with 5B and stepped aboard the people mover. Dré then led them to the escalator up to the Galleries Lounge. Once they checked in, they made themselves comfortable within. Vast glass windows gave them a fantastic view of the big aircraft.
"This is nice. It's quiet," Rick observed as they rolled up to a small round table with four comfortable upholstered arm chairs.
"That's not all. Who fancies a drink? I know I do," Dré offered. Vince said nothing as he set off. He walked past a long bar table with tall chrome barstools on one side and a long refrigerated trough along the center to keep white wines chilled. On the far wall was was a second bar with red wines and spirits.
"Can we get a beer?" Rick asked.
"Only in the bottle. Check those coolers there," Dré gestured past where his lover stood at the second bar as he sat down.
"I'll go with you," Greg dropped his bag and followed. Vince returned with two glasses of red wine.
"Claret," Vince said simply as he handed a glass to his lover.
"Somebody loves me," Dré had a special smile reserved exclusively for his partner.
"You know it," Vince smiled as he leaned down to give his lover a soft kiss on the lips. "Something to eat?"
"No, you go ahead," Dré sipped his wine. Vince set his glass down on the table and set off again.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. For those passengers joining British Airways flight fifty seven to Johannesburg, your aircraft will begin boarding at gate forty five momentarily," came the announcement as Greg and Rick sat back down with frosty cold beers in hand.
"Let's be sure to thank Nasir, yeah? This is the only way to travel!" Rick endorsed.
"You should see the Concorde Room," Dré was dry.
"I saw a sign for that. What is that?" Greg asked.
"The first class lounge," Dré answered.
"I'll bet that's really nice," Rick mused.
"My father is intimately familiar with it," Dré spoke disdainfully.
"There's a really good reason to be happy right here," Greg quipped. Vince returned at that moment with two lunch sized plates of food.
"What did you find, Vince?" Greg asked.
"Artichoke dip, blue crab dip and these little sandwiches," Vince pointed to each with a pinky.
"Blue crab, you said?" Dré interest in food was suddenly piqued. In answer Vince moved his chair closer to the platinum blonde's, spread some of the blue crab onto a small cracker and delicately fed it to his lover.
"Mmm," Dré chewed. "That's the dogs bollocks, that is," he endorsed. Vince promptly loaded another cracker and fed this to his partner as well. He was then quick to make one for himself.
"You've got a right big mouth, Dré," Rick teased with a grin.
"How big his mouth is," Vince bit a little cucumber sandwich in half, "is none of you guy's business," he gestured to both Rick and Greg with the stub of sandwich in his hand.
Dré just smiled at his partner while Rick and Greg snickered.
"You want something?" Rick looked to Greg.
"Maybe some of those little sandwiches. Those look good," Greg answered.
"Back in a jiff," Rick rose, took a swig of his beer and left it on the table as he strode away.
"So, mastermind, what's our plan?" Dré asked.
"Nasir sent me every detail we could want," Greg pulled out his phone. "We have his parents' address and detailed directions, complete with every landmark, on how to get there from our hotel. We have a list of every vehicle the family has, including license plate numbers. He even included a physical description of each member of the family and household staff. His brother sounds almost handsome, actually. Though he seems like a real tosser. Nasir said to especially look out for him."
"We have good intelligence, then," Dré gave an approving nod.
"We'll just have to take shifts watching the house until we see him come out," Greg gave a shrug. "We'll follow him and try to make contact someplace."
"I think we should get a cell phone with a local number when we get there. We can slip it to him and then Nasir can call him and talk to him directly," Vince spoke up.
"Good thinking, Peaches," Dré nodded.
"That is an excellent idea, mate," Greg agreed. Rick returned at that moment with two more plates laden with food for their small table.
"What did I miss?" Rick asked as he sat down.
"Just going over our plan," Greg answered as he snatched up a small finger sandwich.
"My plan is to look sexy. And, oh look, it's working," Rick spread his arms with a grin.
"Huh! Bone thin wanker," Dré rolled his eyes.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. For those passengers joining British Airways flight one oh nine to Dubai, your aircraft will begin boarding at gate forty three momentarily," came the same female voice.
"Ah, good. That's close by," Dré gave a nod.
"Here we go, lads," Greg stood and slung his carry on bag over his shoulder.
"Follow me," Dré just naturally took the lead in this familiar territory. It took two minutes to take the escalator down to the gate level and cross to their gate. In only another five minutes, they were walking down the jetbridge. They stepped aboard the Boeing 777 through a forward door where they were clearly between First and Club World.
"Good evening, gentlemen," an attractive, smiling cabin steward with an all but shaved head greeted them. Dré said nothing while he handed over his boarding pass. The steward looked at it and then back at them with a renewed smile.
"Are you gentlemen traveling together?" he did not wait for an answer. "Your seats are right through here," he gestured.
"Thank you," Greg was polite enough to answer. Dré walked into the club section and looked for their seats. He was instantly less than amused.
"Jesus, Goyle! These seats are in the middle and face bloody backwards!" Dré stopped in his tracks.
"Don't yell at him. I assigned the seats," Rick spoke up. "Look around you, Dré. Only the two center seats are two together. Every other seat in this cabin is a single. Did you want to sit with Vince?"
"It's fine then," Vince stated as he pulled their carry on bag to their assigned seats. It was extremely rare for Vince to voice a contradiction to his partner, but on those occasions there was a very good reason for it, and Dré always listened. Vince alone, among the population of the Earth, had this power. "Come sit down, Duck."
"Look at it this way," Rick could not help himself. "You'll be backing up all the way to the Middle East, and your backside is, after all, your best feature."
"Bugger off, Diggory!" Dré barked from his seat. Rick snickered himself all the way into his. In the next row he and Greg had the two seats together.
"You're pushing him," Greg warned.
"Isn't it great fun?" Rick began to fiddle with his seat and light controls.
"Oh sure it is. And when he has a classic Dré meltdown and takes this aircraft with him, that'll be fun too. I'll just tell all the other people in this cabin that they have you to thank when that happens, shall I?" Greg was flip. Rick only snickered further. He opened every small storage compartment on his side to see what was in them. The luxury wash bag with flight socks, eye mask and Elemis Spa in flight skin care products was of particular interest.
"What's the possibility you could stop fidgeting like a five year old?" Greg asked.
"Blimey, I should have married you way back when. We sound like an old married couple," Rick commented.
Greg gave a sigh and leaned his head back against his seat. "Knob," he muttered.
"Seriously, do you nag Viktor this way? I really want to know," Rick pressed. Greg could tell that his friend was teasing.
"No, it's just you. There's just something about you that brings out the best in people, Rick my old mate," Greg nodded convincingly.
The cabin steward with the nearly shaved head brought a tray with two flutes of champagne which he offered to Dré and Vince. "Champagne, gentlemen? I'm Adam. You need anything at all, just let me know," he smiled warmly.
"Thank you," Dré acknowledged while his partner plucked both glasses from the tray. Vince handed one to his lover, clinked glasses with him, and they both took a sip.
"Gentlemen," Adam appeared in row eleven with two more glasses on his tray. "I'm Adam. I'll be looking after you during our flight. Champagne?"
"Oh, lovely," Greg took a flute.
"Cheers," Rick took the other.
"It's a pleasure to have you gentlemen aboard. Are you traveling on holiday with the other couple?" Adam asked.
"The other? Oh, yes. Yes we are," Rick beamed. He took Greg's hand. "I'm Rick, and this is my guy, Greg."
Adam ignored Greg's pointed stare at his supposed partner. "Anything you gentlemen need at all, don't hesitate to ask," Adam paused for one further smile and then headed off to greet other passengers.
"Now you've made him think we're a couple," Greg observed.
"For the duration of this trip, we are," Rick stated.
"Just don't think you're getting into my pants. That ship sailed over seven years ago," Greg sipped his champagne.
"And when you see me cracking one out, as inevitably you will, try to keep your lips to yourself," Rick returned.
"I'll see if I can't somehow manage it," Greg was flip. The lights in the cabin gave the slightest flicker as the aircraft switched over to it's own power. In another moment they felt the big jet give a shudder as it was pushed from the gate.
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. This is Byron Stewart, your Chief Flight Attendant, on behalf of Captain Corbin Chalmers, welcome aboard British Airways flight one oh nine, nonstop Boeing triple seven service to Dubai. Our anticipated flying time tonight is six hours, fifty five minutes. At this time we ask that all seat backs and tray tables be placed in their full upright and locked position in preparation for departure. Please don't hesitate to let us know if there is anything we can do to make your flight to the United Arab Emirates more enjoyable. Please give attention to your monitors for our short safety video," came the announcement. The usual seatbelt, seat cushion, oxygen and exit door video popped up on all their monitors.
"I will need to collect your glasses, gentlemen," Adam smiled at them. Rick and Greg relinquished their flutes, but not before Rick quickly downed what remained in his.
"Well, we're off then," Rick mused.
"Did you ever think we would head off to the Middle East to save a gay brother we've never even met?" Greg asked as the plane bumped along on it's taxi to the runway.
"Humanitarians, we are," Rick concluded.
"That we are, mate," Greg agreed.
"Gaymanitarians," Rick made a new word with a chuckle.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," came another voice. "This is your Captain speaking. Welcome aboard from the Flight Deck. We anticipate a smooth flight when we reach our cruising altitude of thirty seven thousand feet, and will endeavor to turn off the fasten seatbelt sign as soon as possible, allowing you to move freely about the cabin. At this time we are number two for departure and will be taking the runway in just a few moments. Flight Attendants, doors to Departure and cross check."
"What's Vik doing now, do you suppose?" Rick asked.
"Getting ready for bed about now, I imagine. Arséne has them on the training pitch at the crack of dawn during camp. And if they want something to eat, they best get up even earlier," Greg explained. They heard an even bigger jumbojet roar off down the runway ahead of them before their aircraft took position. After only a short pause the two great turbofans of their jet gave full thrust and the 777 lumbered down the runway. She soon picked up speed and took to the air. Greg let his head rest back against his seat and closed his eyes.
"Please, are you going to go right to sleep? It's just like that time we flew to New York," Rick complained.
"You know how it is, mate. If I'm not driving...," Greg shifted his shoulders to get more comfortable.
"Greg, Rick, will you be dining with us this evening?" Adam asked as he appeared before them again.
"Yes, please," Rick answered.
"Here are your menus," Adam handed them over. "And can I bring you something else to drink after I so rudely snatched away your champagne?"
"I'd love a nice cold beer, actually. What about you, Sweetums?" Rick looked to Greg with fluttering lashes.
"I'll have the same," Greg answered while giving Rick a flat stare. Rick could not hold back his snicker as Adam walked away.
"You think you're very funny," Greg concluded.
"That you don't is the really funny part," Rick smiled.
"Next you'll call me pooky bear," Greg shook his head.
"Oh, I might just," Rick nodded.
"Read your menu," Greg instructed. Rick took a few moments to do so and Adam returned with two frosty cold bottles of beer.
"Here we are. Glasses?" Adam asked.
"Not at all. Thank you," Greg accepted his and took a hearty gulp.
"Have we decided on dinner?" Adam asked.
"The salmon, I think," Greg answered.
"Ah, make that two," Rick smiled.
"Full English in the morning?" Adam queried further.
"Of course," Greg readily agreed.
Dinner was served with two fresh beers half an hour later. Ahead of them in the plane, but behind them as they sat, Dré and Vince continued to drink wine, though the thinner man had switched to white. After dinner Greg pulled out his travel sized chess set and placed the board on Rick's table.
"Fancy losing a game of chess, do you?" Rick asked.
"Is that what you think will happen? Set up the board. I need to run to the loo," Greg handed the box to Rick and rose from his seat. He noticed that Dré and Vince had settled in to watch a movie. Dré had shed his suit jacket finally, but in only a polo, had a blanket wrapped loosely around him for warmth. Greg knew their slight friend would much rather have his partner for warmth, but that was not possible in these seats. Still Vince held his lover's hand atop the small arm rest table between their seats as they watched.
In Club World there was not continuous hand and foot service like there was in First. There was however, the Club Kitchen, stocked with all manner of food and beverages, available to Club World passengers throughout the flight. This was where Greg found Vince when he emerged from the bathroom.
"Hey, Vince. Enjoying the flight?" Greg asked.
"Oh, yeah, very nice," Vince answered as he poured. "Dré just wanted another glass of wine. Thought I might nick a snack as well," he piled a plate with chocolate truffles and petit fours.
"Those do look good," Greg nodded.
"They are. I already had one," Vince picked up the two wine glasses, cradling them in the fingers of one hand, and the plate of goodies which he offered to Greg. Greg popped a truffle into his mouth and hummed his approval as Vince walked ahead of him. Rick had the chess board all set up when Greg made it back to their seats.
"Oh, hey, another beer?" Greg asked before he sat down.
"Oh, yeah, thanks," Rick agreed. Greg found them readily available in the Club Kitchen and returned with two fresh cold ones. Greg made a point to turn the board around so that Rick had the white side and could go first. Three games later Rick gave up his 'two out of three' protests.
"Bloody hell, Greg!" Rick set his king on it's side in capitulation as he could see another check mate was unavoidable. "A ringer you are."
"Sorry," Greg gave a big yawn. Adam passed through the cabin and noticed this.
"Shall I bring your quilts and pillows, gentlemen?" Adam enquired. "Your friends turned in a bit ago."
"What do you say, Pooky Bear? Ready to turn in?" Rick asked with a smile.
"Quite," Greg agreed. "You been savin' that," he added after Adam went to fetch their bed clothes.
"Quite," Rick said it in the same tone Greg used.
"Here we are," Adam handed the quilts and pillows to Greg as Rick packed up the chess set. "Pleasant dreams."
"There you go," Rick handed the packed box back to Greg. "I just need to see a man about a dog. Back in a tick," he rose and headed forward. Dré and Vince were asleep in their beds. Dré lay on his back as close to the near edge as possible and Vince lay on his side facing his lover. Vince's hand lay on Dré's chest and the thin man held it. It brought a smile to Rick's face as he passed through the Club Kitchen. Adam intercepted him by the lavatories.
"Looking for something, Rick?" Adam stepped up entirely too close to Rick and looked deeply into the equally tall man's eyes.
"As it happens, I'm not, Adam, but you very much make me wish I were," Rick answered honestly.
"I'll leave you about your business then," Adam stepped back out of Rick's personal space. Rick reached for the bathroom door and turned back.
"Hang on a minute. How do you know we're not together?" Rick asked.
"I can tell you're having me on. Don't know if it's your friend's idea or yours, but I can tell," Adam answered.
"How can you tell?" Rick asked.
"Pooky Bear? Really?" Adam raised his eyebrows.
"Too much?" Rick asked.
"Just a little," Adam looked askance. Rick only snickered and headed into the loo to take a piss. Greg had put both seats down into flat beds, placed the pillows and spread out both quits by the time Rick returned.
"Adam figured us out," Rick admitted as he climbed into his own bed.
"You did lay it on a bit thick," Greg settled in himself.
"I did, at that. You know, Dré's adorable when he's asleep," Rick observed.
"Be sure and tell him that," Greg sighed. "Be still now. Let's get a few hours of sleep."
"Yes, dear," Rick found himself very amusing.
Dré woke in the morning to gentle lips softly caressing his. "Mmm," he murmured as the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. Dré parted his lips without opening his eyes and ran his tongue along the lip that captured his bottom one. This is how he liked to wake up. And his lover knew it. Dré opened his eyes and put a hand to the side of Vince's face.
"Morning, Peach," Dré looked into his lover's eyes.
"Morning, sexy boy," Vince gave him another loving kiss and sat up.
"Morning, gentlemen," Adam was nearby and had witnessed their intimate moment with a smile. "Ready for breakfast?"
"Yes, please," Vince answered.
"Oh, I need my tea first," Dré leaned up on his elbows. "Christ, are we still flying? This might be the longest flight we've ever taken."
"The flight to New York was just as long," Vince informed.
"Was it?" Dré shook his head. Vince reached over and ran a finger down his lover's throat and into his open polo shirt as far as he could. This brought a smile to the thin man's face.
"Is my guy randy this morning?" Dré asked.
"Every morning. Me body aches to feel you against me. Expect me to rip your clothes off when we get to our hotel room," Vince informed.
"Sounds good to me. Fancy fucking my face or my arse?" Dré licked his lips.
"Yes, please," Vince smiled. Dré laughed.
"Start one way and finish the other, and I don't care which," Dré tilted his head. "Unbutton that shirt," he commanded. Vince did as he was told. The top two buttons of his shirt were already open. He unbuttoned a third, then a fourth, and a fifth. Dré watched most attentively as Vince opened his shirt and ran his fingers slowly through his chest hair.
"God, you are so hot," Dré bit his bottom lip. "The things I want to do to you right now," he shook his head.
"Yes, please," Vince echoed his earlier sentiment with another smile.
"Shall I make your seats up, gentlemen?" Adam asked as he intruded again. "Some coffee or tea before breakfast?"
"Coffee for him. Tea for me," Dré answered. He sat up as Adam gave a nod and withdrew. "Are the others up?"
"Dunno. Haven't seen them," Vince answered.
"If they're not, they're about to be," Dré slid down and climbed out of his bed.
Not all the cabin lights were up and only a few of the window shades had yet been raised. Greg and Rick slumbered peacefully side by side in their twin beds when their slim friend came around from behind.
"Oy, get up, you lot!" Dré delivered a kick to the foot of each bed.
"Oh my God, Dré," Greg moaned. "Is it morning already?" he rubbed his face.
"Are we there yet?" Rick asked.
"Very nearly. You two probably nattered the night away. C'mon, then. Everybody up," Dré dictated.
"Do us a favor, Greg. Don't let's tell them our room number when we check in," Rick suggested.
"I do think I hear Vince calling you, Dré, mate," Greg added. The thin man delivered another kick to each bed for good measure and returned to his seat where his lover and his tea awaited him.
"They up?" Vince asked.
"They are now," Dré was quite pleased with himself as he seated himself comfortably. In short order a full English breakfast was served that Dré ate the half of. Vince helped his thin partner finish his breakfast as he often did. Vince had a hearty enough appetite for the two of them. Even as the dishes of their meal were cleared away, they felt the big aircraft begin to give up altitude as they began their initial approach to Dubai. Like many others in the cabin, they went to the lavatory to freshen up and brush their teeth. They noticed women change into more modest clothes and head scarves or hijabs, and men emerge from the bathrooms suddenly attired in white dishdashas and ghutras.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. We have begun our final descent into Dubai. I have illuminated the fasten seat belt sign. Please remain seated for the duration of our flight. Thank you," came the announcement. The crew made multiple trips up and down the aisles as they busily made the cabin ready for arrival. Dré and Vince both clicked their seat belts into place.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Byron picked up with his spiel. "We ask that all seat backs and tray tables be returned to their full upright and locked position in preparation for landing. Any carry on items that you may have got out during the flight need to be placed back in the overhead compartment or beneath the seat in front of you. Please let us know if you need any assistance in so doing. We will be landing shortly."
In the center of the aircraft they had no way of knowing how close to the ground they were. They only knew the big plane banked gently in a long arc and evened out again. Just when it seemed that they would never reach the ground, they were all but startled by the wheels hitting the runway. The nose came down in another moment and the giant turbofans reversed thrust. They felt the additional power of the brakes slow them even further. Eventually, at a quick taxi pace, the 777 turned off the runway.
"This is your First Officer speaking. From the Flight Deck, welcome to the Emirate of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates. Local time is oh eight thirty two. Flight Attendants, doors to Arrival and cross check," came the heretofore unheard voice.
"Please remain seated with your seatbelts securely fastened until the aircraft has come to a complete stop at the gate," Byron did not miss a beat. "This is the terminating point of British Airways flight one oh nine. British Airways hopes you enjoy your stay in the United Arab Emirates, or wherever your travels take you."
"Here we are, sir," Adam walked up and handed Dré his suit jacket.
"Right, thank you," Dré placed it in his lap and for the first time that morning found it remarkable that he had not needed it for warmth. He took Vince's hand as they both relaxed for the duration of the long taxi to their gate. A few minutes later the big jet came at last to a halt. Passengers did not hesitate to rise from their seats and gather their belongings. Dré put his suit jacket on as it was just a more convenient way to carry it. Soon the door was opened and they followed other passengers as they all funneled through the jetbridge and into the impressive airport. The Emiratis in their native dress were easy to follow through the airport. They had to stop doing that when they came to passport control as they had to head for the line for foreigners. They declared their visit was for tourism, obtained their stamps and headed through to baggage claim.
"I should call Vik," Greg pulled out his phone as they rolled up to their baggage belt.
"Will he be up?" Rick asked.
"Oh, yeah, but I won't get him. He'll be on the training pitch by now," Greg raised the phone to his ear. "I'll just leave him a quick message to let him know we got here just fine."
Mist hung over the early morning field in Bad Waltersdorf in the mountains of Southeast Austria. Their chartered plane had landed in Graz and it had taken the subsequent buses not an hour to reach the tiny mineral spring spa town near to the border with Hungary. Arséne stood on the field this morning with two other coaches talking with Cesc. The coaching staff all wore their gray sweatshirts and black shorts. All the Gunners wore their uniform track jackets and shorts. Viktor stood talking with the two Muslims on the team, Samir and Marouane. Though neither of them had been to any Gulf State, Viktor, nevertheless, had a dozen questions for them. When the cell that rested atop his nearby bag rang, seeing as the leaders had yet to get their act together this misty morning, Viktor dashed for it.
"Grigor!" Viktor recognized his mate's ringtone.
"Vik, I didn't think I would get you," Greg was surprised to hear his partner's voice.
"They talk, talk for twenty minutes, more. We not do nothing. Where are you?" Viktor asked.
"We landed in Dubai a bit ago. Did the passport thing and waiting for the bags just now," Greg informed.
"Ah, good, good," Viktor nodded to himself. "Was good flight?"
"As well as could be hoped without you by my side. Tonight, in a regular bed, will be worse," Greg confessed.
"I know. I not like sleeping apart from you also," Viktor agreed.
"Mr. Krum, turn off that mobile and put it away," Arséne dictated from the pitch behind Viktor.
"They call me now," Viktor stated.
"Okay. I just wanted to let you know that we landed safely and that I love you and miss you already," Greg stated.
"Tay obicham, Slunchitze," Viktor said and hung up.
Greg could not help the smile that covered his face as he lowered his cell.
"I thought you said he would be training?" Dré demanded.
"Not as yet this morning, evidently. I'll just check in with Lune and Lene now," Greg scrolled to another number. Vince and Rick hefted their bags from the belt while Greg spoke with his daughter and Luna, and Dré watched.
"Now we just have Customs. Come along, Goyle," Dré called. Greg quickly finished his conversation and followed. Customs was even easier than Immigration as the officer took one look at them and said not a single word as he waved them through.
"The hotel car should be meeting us just now," Rick informed as he led the way through the Customs doors. A blonde European man in short sleeved uniform shirt and white shorts held a sign with the hotel name and in large hand written letters, Rick's last name.
"Ah, that was easy. Hello," Rick called. "I'm Cedric Diggory," he walked up to the hotel driver.
"Mr. Diggory, welcome to Dubai. My name is Jaan. This is all your party?" he asked in Scandinavian accented English.
"This is us," Rick confirmed.
"Right this way. The car is right at the curb," Jaan carried his sign across the arrivals area and through the doors outside. The flash of heat as they stepped out of the aircraft into the jetbridge did not prepare them for the all embracing furnace that was the not quite ten AM air of the UAE.
"Bloody hell!" Dré made quick work of shedding his jacket.
"This is hot," Greg agreed. Jaan led them to a white Lexus LX470. He started the car and put the air on before loading their luggage in the back. Dré and Vince took the third row seats while Greg and Rick sat in the back seat. Once behind the wheel, Jaan produced only slightly thawed frozen wet towels and a bottle of very cold Evian for each of them.
"Wow. Thanks," Greg happily accepted his towel and cold water.
"I'll say. This is service. Well done, Diggory," Dré endorsed. Vince pressed his rapidly thawing towel to his face a brief moment. Then he folded it up into a strip and placed it on the back of his lover's neck.
"Oh, that's ever so nice," Dré leaned his head forward and closed his eyes while he rested his hand on Vince's thigh.
"I'll have you gentlemen to the hotel in five minutes," Jaan put the vehicle in gear and pulled away from the curb.
"Blimey. Check that out, mates," Greg gestured when he caught sight of the tower.
"Amazing seeing it in person," Rick agreed.
"Ah, that's the Burj al Khalifa, the tallest building in the world," Jaan informed.
"Why did I think it was called the Burj al Dubai?" Dré mused aloud.
"It was," Greg confirmed.
"The tower was renamed in honor of President His Highness Sheikh Khalifa al Nahyan when he bailed Prime Minister His Highness Sheikh Mohammed al Maktoum, the Emir of Dubai, out of his financial crisis," Jaan explained.
"To the tune of billions of pounds," Greg added.
"I'd want a tower named after me too," Dré concluded.
The Radisson Blu Dubai Creek was a ten story building in the business sector, directly fronting onto the creek itself, with excellent views from upper floors of the old historic city center on the other side. Jaan drove up under the porte cochere and both a bellman and doorman advanced on the SUV. The travellers quickly made their way into the air conditioned hotel and turned right to the private Royal Club reception desk. Greg paid for both the rooms as he was keeping track of their expenses. Their room keys were handed over to the bellman and they followed him to the elevators. On the top floor with creek views, a room with a king bed and a room with two queen beds were side by side. If the bellman thought anything about escorting Dré and Vince into a room with one bed, he did not show it.
"I could certainly do with a bloody shower," Dré pulled at his polo as he stepped into his room. Just as quickly he dashed back into the hall. "Oy, you lot. We're going to take a shower just now."
"Oh, sterling idea, Dré, mate," Greg agreed from the doorway of the adjacent room.
"You go first, Greg," Rick said as he walked past into their room.
"Right. You blokes just come over and rap on the door when you're ready, right?" Greg bid.
"Righto," Dré agreed while Vince tipped the bellman. Dré disappeared into the room and let the door shut behind him.
The club level rooms were spacious enough to easily be considered junior suites. There was ample space for a desk with two chairs and even a sitting area with a love seat and two upholstered chairs around a low coffee table, in addition to the two queen sized beds. A private balcony overlooked the creek with a view even to the Gulf that might have been inviting were it not so beastly hot. Rick snatched up the television remote and flopped down on one of the beds. Greg unbuttoned and shed his shirt and dropped it on the other bed.
"I could do with a shower too," Greg commented as he unzipped and dropped his jeans. Even if these two men had not a history of intimacy between them, they were old school chums and had on many an occasion seen each other naked.
"Go ahead. I'm just going to familiarize myself with the telly," Rick flipped away. Greg just shook his head, dug his toiletries out of his bag and headed for the bathroom.
The spacious club lounge just down the hall on the tenth floor had a panoramic view of the creek and the historic old city on the other side. There was a concierge stationed at a small desk within. A modestly dressed Indian woman in a smart business suit and skirt with long jet black hair greeted Greg with a smile when he walked in. The remains of the breakfast buffet had been cleared away. The bar was only open during the evening cocktail hours when hot hors d'oeuvres were served. Lighter snacks of chips and pretzels were available all day along with soft drinks, bottles of Evian and a giant bowl of ice.
"Good morning, sir. I'm Tisya, your concierge. Is there anything I can do to assist you?" she asked with a very white smile.
"Hello there. I'm Greg Goyle from ten fourteen. I wonder if you could assist me in arranging a car. Two, actually," Greg sat down in one of the two chairs before her desk. He wore camo cargo shorts and a white tee shirt.
"I would be happy to assist you with your cars, Mr. Goyle. Did you have any particular needs or desires in the the vehicles?" Tisya asked.
"A Mercedes," Dré dictated from behind Greg as he and his equally freshly showered partner strode into the lounge. Both men wore tan capri shorts and black tee shirts.
"Dré," Greg began to protest.
"We want something that belongs in that neighborhood. Think about it. You know I'm right," Dré sat down at a nearby table.
"Alright. You do have a point," Greg gave a nod. He turned back to the concierge, "Not something crazy expensive. An E class perhaps. And an equivalent BMW for me mates. Give me your driver license, Dré," he bid as he pulled his own from his wallet.
"Good Christ, no. I'm not driving here on the wrong bloody side of the road," Dré announced. Vince stood nearby at the refreshments table sticking bottles of Evian and small bags of pretzels and chips into a ready backpack that he carried for just this purpose. He produced his wallet and handed it to his lover without a word. Dré then extracted his partner's license from the wallet and handed it to Greg.
Rick wandered in, sexy in board shorts and a tight white tank top, "Don't you lot know it's hot here?" He walked to the refreshments table while the others ignored him. Like a proper tourist, Rick wore an expensive camera on a strap round his neck. "You chaps have your camera?" he asked as he picked up a small bag of pretzels for himself. In answer Vince only held up his backpack.
Tisya printed the rental agreements for Greg to sign. While he was the renter of both vehicles, Vince was assigned as a supplemental driver for the BMW 5 series.
"There you are, Mr. Goyle. Just give these tickets to the valet and they will pull your cars right up to the doors for you," Tisya finished by handing over two valet tickets and copies of the rental agreements for both cars.
"Oh, one other thing," Greg continued. "I need a cell phone with a local number. It can be prepaid or whatever. Just a cheap phone. Shall I leave you a credit card?"
"Not at all, Mr. Goyle," Tisya smiled. "I can have it placed on your room. It will take me until this afternoon, however."
"That would be just fine. Thank you so much," Greg tipped the concierge, gathered up his papers and stood. "Shall we, men?"
It was not yet noon when they stepped out into the well over a hundred degree day.
"Blimey," Dré exclaimed as the blast of heat hit him in the face. Greg handed the ticket for the Mercedes to the valet and the second ticket to Vince.
"Let's all go together in one car on this trip, right?" Greg suggested.
"A little reconnaissance? Get the lay of the land?" Dré considered. "Good thinking, Goyle."
A bronze colored Mercedes Benz E 350 drove up and stopped before them. Greg tipped the valet and took the wheel. Rick sat beside him, Dré sat behind Greg, and Vince sat beside his lover. Greg handed his phone, with all the notes from Nasir, to Rick so that he could navigate as Greg drove them out of the hotel. It was a quick and easy drive up Baniyas Road, to the main Sheikh Zayed Road, where they headed North out of the city of Dubai. They passed the airport and soon saw the sign indicating that they were leaving the Emirate of Dubai and entering the Emirate of Sharjah. The ever present sand, where there was not a building or manicured lawn, was a constant reminder of where they were. Over a mile away they could see the tall ferris wheel in Al Qasba Park.
"Oh, they call this the Eye of the Emirates. Fancy that?" Greg commented as they drove by.
"Huh. They've never seen an Eye," Dré scoffed.
"I think this might be our road up here, mates," Greg observed. Beyond the park they could see the tall and ornate twin minarets of an impressive mosque.
"Nasir sent a picture," Rick called it up on Greg's phone. "Is this Al Khan Road?"
"There's a sign up here," Greg squinted. "It is."
"And that is definitely our mosque," Rick held up the phone displaying a picture of what was clearly the same building.
"Nearly there, then," Greg turned left onto al Khan Road and drove them into the Al Khaledia suburb of the city of Sharjah.
"What a beautiful building. Much nicer than the one on Regent's Park," Dré commented.
"Bigger too," Vince added as he squeezed the hand he held in the backseat of the comfortable car.
"It is a beautiful mosque. And much bigger than the Central London Mosque. Bait ul Futuh Mosque in Southwest London is the biggest mosque in all of Western Europe. It's nowhere near as pretty or big as this one just here is," Greg informed as they left Al Huda behind.
"How do you know that?" Dré challenged.
"We have access to news and information at the BBC, mate," Greg stated what virtually everyone on the planet well knew. Vince smiled at his lover as Dré rolled his eyes.
"Around this corner and it should be just down at the end," Rick navigated.
They were armed with good intelligence, but Nasir's information was incomplete. They didn't know to be on the lookout for the ivory Aston Martin Rapide that drove right past them as they turned onto the final street, because Nasir knew nothing about it.
If Rania al Qasimi felt in any way a part of her new husband's family it was entirely due to Zahara al Qasimi. Her father-in-law always had a smile for her when he saw her, but did not interact with her in any way. She could count on one hand the number of words they had exchanged since she had married his son. That, of course, was not out of the ordinary and no less than she expected. Her mother-in-law was very kind to her. Zahara made every effort to include Rania in everything she did and every household decision she made. The two women often went out together. Rania had held a distraught Zahara's hand all the way when Vijay had driven them over to see Adelah and Dimah al Gargawi. That had been an episode she might rather not have been a part of.
Rania felt very much for her sweet sister-in-law and grew afraid of her husband when the whole house heard him shout at Samira. Rania had cried with Zahara when Omar slapped his daughter in the face with enough force to knock her out of her chair. She was afraid for Samira when Omar commanded his son to take his sister home to her husband in London enroute to retrieve his brother from the United States. Samira wiped her face and hugged her, and told her not to be afraid for her. Sadiq was a good man and loved her and would never mistreat her. In fact she was certain that when her husband learned that her father had struck her, he would be so furious over it that she might never be allowed to see them again.
Kasim was in such a pique of anger that he did not even say goodbye to her when he and Samira left that night for London. And when he returned from his apparently failed trip to retrieve his brother from America, he fucked her with rough, angry frustration. It was not pleasant, but she endured it as a good Emirati wife would. And Kasim was not always this way. Their wedding night had driven her to tears when Kasim took her virginity and fucked her three painful times. Nothing the mothers or other women had told her had prepared her for what it was really like. They had said it would be unpleasant and that she would not like it and they had been dead right. But they also said that it would get better and they had been right about that too. Kasim could, when the mood struck him and he took his time, be almost loving. They had slow, gentle sex for a good long while the very morning when Nasir was here and took Samira over to meet with Dimah. Kasim had even kissed her on that occasion. It was the first time and she found that she very much liked it when her husband kissed her. That had been a morning for other firsts as well. It was also the first time Kasim had made her take him in her mouth. She found that she did not like that at all, though he had been kind when she gagged on him. Kasim had told her that she did not have to take all of him, that he understood this was new to her, and that she would be able to do better with time.
The shouting that filled the whole compound the morning Kasim returned empty handed had been all Omar. The Sheikh had gone to great lengths to come to terms with the other Sheikh and would have to start all over again now. Kasim assured his father that he had other tricks up his sleeve, that he was not finished with Nasir yet. Omar berated his eldest son anyway, about that and a number of other topics, including not making provision for his wife. One of the things Kasim had done that very day was to purchase the Aston Martin Rapide in which she rode even now. Kasim, as his father had pointed out for everyone to hear, needed a family car now that he was a family man. If he were to go someplace and take his wife, how could he do that in a little two seater Ferrari? She certainly could not sit next to him. Kasim found a car that he himself would like to drive. A sport sedan with cradling and very comfortable back seats. She had actually never ridden in it with her husband and made the mistake of telling him that she wished he would take her places. When Kasim asked why, she said that she didn't like the way Vijay looked at her, which was not at all true, but that is what came to the top of her head. She never imagined that Kasim would haul Vijay out of the bed he shared with his wife in the middle of the night and punch him in his face. Ashok alone was permitted to drive for her from that moment on and had the wheel of the Rapide as she headed off to meet her sister and their friends for lunch. She liked Ashok better anyway. Rania noticed that when he smiled it never reached his eyes. There was something about the sad young man that appealed to her motherly instincts.
Ashok saw the bronze E class Mercedes as it passed them on the street. He saw that it was driven by a white man, but thought nothing of it. His employer did business with men from all over the world and was not the only one on this street to do so. He didn't know what happened last night when Mr. Kasim had come in a crazed state to assault Vijay, but Sanjiv told him this morning that he alone was allowed to drive Ms. Rania. And he didn't mind that at all. Ms. Rania was kind to him and it got him out of the house. Since his partner had been killed, Pankaj's duties had been split among Vijay and himself. Until such time as Pankaj was replaced, though that would not take long, Sanjiv found himself with more work to do and that put him in ill humor. Pankaj might be easily replaced in the al Qasimi household, but not in Ashok's heart. Pankaj had worked for the al Qasimi home for more than the nearly six years since Ashok had joined them. The servants were like a family themselves and all of them cried the day Pankaj died. But none of them knew how close Ashok and Pankaj had been. None of them knew that Ashok lost his lover and life partner to the murderer's bullet. None of them knew that Ashok cried himself to sleep every night clutching Pankaj's pillow. No one was there when he pushed their beds apart and collapsed on the floor in a sobbing heap. No one knew. No one could know. Ashok was all alone with his pain. There was no one to whom he could turn.
Ashok drove his charge down into Dubai and then took the main desert road that led to the city of Al Ain on the border with Oman. An hour's drive out into the wasteland, a quarter of the way to Al Ain and well past the al Gargawi estate, finally brought them to the turn off for the Bab al Shams Desert Resort and Spa. An ultra luxurious Arabian fort oasis, Bab al Shams was nestled among the endless, shifting dunes. It was the home of, among other things, Masala, Rania and her friends' favorite Indian restaurant. He pulled up before the fortified front entrance and a uniformed doorman reached for the rear door.
"I'll call you when I'm ready to leave, Ashok," Rania said in Arabic as her door was opened.
"Okay, Missus. Have a nice lunch," Ashok bid with a little wave.
"Thank you, Ashok," Rania paused to smile at him before she got out of the expensive car. The doorman closed the door and Ashok drove away to park in the big parking lot and wait. He was very glad to be driving this car. This car was far less painful. Pankaj had never driven it.