Page 24 of Night's Reckoning
“Sir?”
Ben woke when he heard the flight attendant’s voice.
“Sir, we are approaching Beijing. Can you please bring your seat upright?”
Ben nodded wordlessly and pushed the button to shift his seat. He’d slept all the way from Abu Dhabi, settling into a business class seat next to Fabia, who’d gazed at everything with wide and wondering eyes.
She was reclined next to him, her sleep mask pushed up and her short, pixie-cut hair mussed. “That was the most comfortable flight I’ve ever taken.” She stretched up and out. “I am ruined for economy class.”
“Really?” The corner of Ben’s mouth turned up. “Want to know how much the seats cost?”
“Please no.” She took off her mask, rubbed her eyes, and yawned. “I’m just going to pretend that I’m living in a dream right now. I refuse to spend thousands of unnecessary dollars on a plane seat when that amount of money could get me a Prada handbag.”
Despite working for her uncle, Fabia didn’t travel much. And while she made a good income between the university and Giovanni, she didn’t have time to spend it. Convincing her to come to Beijing as his assistant was surprisingly easy. Especially when he told her they’d be going after a ninth-century Arab shipwreck.
The plane touched down in China, and they started to gather their things and make preparations to exit the cabin.
“You’re sure this visa is legal?” Fabia muttered. “I’ve never heard of one going through that fast. When people from the university have to travel—”
“They go through normal channels,” Ben said. “Not… other ones.” He glanced at the people around them, none of whom were paying attention and none of whom assumed Ben could speak Mandarin. Which he could.
Thanks to Tenzin.
“The visas are fine,” Ben said. “Trust me. And trust Emil. It was his liaison who arranged everything.”
“Okay.” She didn’t look reassured, but then Fabia disliked taking anything on faith. It was what made her such a good friend and an excellent backup. “If you trust them, I will.”
“It’ll be fine.” He knew they were being watched. There would be a court representative meeting them after they retrieved their luggage, but they’d be under surveillance the moment they stepped off the plane. Ben was an invited guest of the elders of Penglai Island. Nothing about this visit would be routine.
“Have you been here before?” Fabia asked.
“China? Sure.”
“Not China,” Fabia said. “The… other place.”
Penglai Island. Ben shook his head. “I’ve only heard stories.”
“Pictures?”
“Not allowed.” He took Fabia’s hand and followed the signs toward immigration and customs. Before he could reach the line, he noticed a solemn Chinese man in a very nice suit trying to catch his attention.
Ben paused, recognized that the suit was far too expensive for a government employee, and walked over.
“Mr. Vecchio.” The man spoke with a crisp English accent. “If you’ll follow me, we can expedite your and your guest’s entry.”
“Thank you.” He followed the man toward the diplomatic entrance.
Their guide opened his wallet and showed the official his credentials. The official narrowed his eyes, looked Ben and Fabia up and down, then nodded. He pointed toward a desk where an attractive, smiling woman sat behind glass.
She examined their passports and visas, then she nodded and said, “Welcome to Beijing” before she motioned them toward the exit.
Ben continued following their guide toward the baggage claim, keeping Fabia’s hand in a firm grip.
“That was fast,” she said in Italian.
“Yes, it was.” Even faster than Ben had expected. He felt visible. Conspicuous. There were so many eyes on him it made his skin itch. So many cameras. So many observers. “But hey, we’re not standing in that hours-long line.”
“I’m in a dream, remember?” Fabia quipped. “There aren’t any hours-long lines in dreams.”
