“You ready, Bashir?”

The man smiled in what little light could make its way to the vehicle’s backseat. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this. These days, I mostly golf. Good for the career and much safer.”

“All evidence to the contrary.”

“You make a valid point.”

“Our man is coming up from behind,” the driver announced.

Rapp twisted around and spotted a set of headlights approaching fast. Ahead, he could see a low hill where the road split into three lanes and the semi that was there to block the cameras. Their driver was on the phone again, speaking to both vehicles and watching a timer on his phone. They would all come together at the beginning of the surveillance blind spot.

“One minute,” the driver announced. “Forty-five seconds… Thirty seconds.”

Rapp rolled down the window. He’d go first and then help Isa, who was hopefully a little more nimble than he looked. At least his waistline hadn’t swelled to the point that he’d be in danger of getting stuck.

The dusty desert air began swirling through the vehicle as they eased into the middle lane and came up on the semi. In the left lane, the headlights continued to approach at a speed favored by the Saudi privileged class.

“Ten seconds,” the driver said, shouting over the wind. “Nine… Eight…”

Rapp grabbed his duffle and waited at the open window. They came alongside the semi just as the trailing vehicle pulled even with them and slowed to match their speed. The driver was clearly experienced, bringing his SUV to within a foot of them and holding steady. Still, one mistake—or perhaps an intentional tap on the brake pedal—would leave Rapp’s broken body cartwheeling across the asphalt at sixty miles an hour. Claudia seemed to think it wouldn’t happen and that had to be good enough.

The duffle went first—through the SUV’s open window and into the back of the adjacent Rolls-Royce Cullinan. He went next, slipping across the gap and into the soft leather seat before immediately turning back toward the window. Isa was looking directly at him from the other vehicle, an expression of sadness etched across his soft features.

Only eight seconds until they came back into view of the cameras. Rapp stuck an arm through the window and tried to grab him by the shirt. Isa retreated out of reach and held up a hand in salute. A moment later, Rapp’s driver rolled up the window and jammed the accelerator to the floor. By the time they reentered the surveillance area, the Rolls had regained its speed.

Rapp let out a long breath and settled back into the extraordinarily comfortable seat.