The kid side-eyed him. “Which do you think it was?”
Kid had a high-end board, but it was well used. His moves had been pretty decent for the three hours they’d been at it. He knew what he was doing. “I’d say on purpose. You’re both skilled enough and smart enough to have spun out of my way if you’d wanted to.”
The kid nodded but didn’t say anything.
“What’s your name?” Riley finished the water bottle.
“Omar.”
“You’ve definitely got some skills, Omar.”
The kid loosened up a little bit. “We practice a lot.”
Maybe this kid knew how they could get in touch with Sayed. “How about FMX? Any of that around here?”
Omar’s eyes lit up. Perfect. This is when Riley’s reputation would come in handy. “Yes. I’m better at FMX than sandboarding. You want to ride?”
Riley shrugged. He had to play this cool. “I’m always up for a great course, but sometimes it doesn’t work out for me to do public courses. Somebody cuts me off with a sandboard and I can recover pretty quickly. Somebody cuts me off on a motocross bike…”
Omar grimaced and shook his head. “Sorry I cut you off. That was stupid. But I know the perfect FMX course. It’s a private course owned by Mr. El Kadi. He’s also a great rider.”
Bingo.
Riley glanced over at Wyatt and Gavin, who were chatting with some of the locals while also keeping an eye on what was going on with Riley. He gave them a slight nod.
“Why don’t you see if your friend Mr. El Kadi would be open for me and my team to come over? No filming. We’ll keep it casual.”
The kid had a smart phone in his hands ten seconds later, talking excitedly, this time in Arabic to whoever was on the other line. Riley hoped it was Sayed.
He wandered over to Gavin and Wyatt. “My friend Omar over there knows somebody who has a private FMX course. Thought we might check it out.”
Immediately the locals Gavin and Wyatt had been talking to started gushing about Sayed and his course.
It was setting up to be the perfect cover.
“Sounds like a great location to me,” Wyatt said.
Omar came running up. “Mr. El Kadi says he would be honored to have you at his home to ride his course. He looks forward to personally challenging you.”
Riley slapped the kid on the back. “That can definitely be arranged.”
The crowd dispersed, and they all started packing up as the sun began to set behind the dunes. Riley kept up an easy banter with Omar and the other riders coming with them to Sayed’s house. Wyatt and Gavin kept their heads down and helped pack things up like they were part of the crew.
Riley got into the small van with Wyatt and Gavin. They followed the other vehicles, forming a caravan heading to Sayed’s estate.
The guys got Kendrick on the line once they had privacy.
“Update us, Blaze. We’re heading into Sayed’s compound.” Gavin put his phone on speaker and set it next to him as Wyatt drove.
“Satellite footage shows two infrared signatures in the cellar near the barn. My spidey senses are telling me that’s our boys.”
“Security cameras?” Wyatt asked.
“Tons, but all pointing toward the outside. Once you’re inside their walls, security cameras aren’t really a problem. Roving armed guards on the other hand…” Kendrick sighed from his end of the phone. “I sometimes feel like a broken record saying this to you Linear guys, but you’re going in there outgunned and outmanned. If things go to shit, you’re going to be in trouble.”
“Then we won’t let them go to shit,” Wyatt said.
Kendrick sighed again. “If the guards follow the pattern of the past few days, they’re only checking on the prisoners once a day. So they shouldn’t even notice they’re gone until tomorrow—plenty of time for you to make it to Cairo and out of the country.”
“Sayed might suspect you had something to do with it,” Gavin said to Riley.
Riley shrugged. “I’m going to be with the guy the entire time, riding bikes. Based on his invitation, not my request. So he’ll hardly be able to accuse me of anything when I’m kicking his ass at motocross.”
“Just keep him riding until as close to ten p.m. as possible.” Wyatt caught Riley’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Like you’re having the time of your life and want to stay until the last possible minute. So that when we do finally go, we have an excuse to drive like a bat out of hell toward the airport.”
Riley nodded. “You guys just be sure to have them in the van by then.”
“Charter jet is ready, along with private security screening,” Kendrick said. “As long as you guys make it out of the compound and to the airport, you’ll be fine.”
They disconnected the call as the caravan pulled up to the gate.
The guard recognized Riley and was a fan, so Riley chatted with him for a few minutes—which was what he would do in a normal situation, and because it didn’t hurt to build up some goodwill—before they made their way inside.
“Good luck, you guys,” he murmured as they parked next to the huge house and he opened the door. “Keep safe.”
“You too, brother,” Wyatt said.
Omar rushed over to Riley, alternating between gushing and playing it cool as only a teenager could. They all walked around the house toward the bike course.
It was already dark outside, but the industrial, stadium-strength lights provided more than enough illumination. Riley let out a whistle now that he could see the course clearly. Impressive.
“See?” Omar was grinning, obviously delighted that Riley was impressed. “I told you. I told you Mr. El Kadi has the best course, maybe in the entire country.”
“Omar.” A voice rang out behind them. “Our American friend has eyes. Let him judge for himself.”
Riley turned and found a dark-skinned man, definitely of Egyptian descent, in his late forties, and already dressed in motorbike-riding garb. “Mr. Harrison, I am Sayed El Kadi. Salām ‘alaykum. Welcome to my home.”
“Hell of a course you’ve got here.” Riley shook the man’s hand.
He smiled. “That’s because I’m a hell of a rider.”
Riley grinned. He was never going to be friends with a kidnapper tied to terrorists, but he could respect someone who knew his own strengths. Although the man looked more like a businessman than a motocross rider. “What a coincidence, so am I.”
“Then shall we have a little go at my course? You can change clothes in here.” He pointed to a small building.
Riley was changed and on the bike they’d rented in Cairo in no time. Sayed hadn’t been lying about his FMX abilities. He was good. And in riding the course purely for speed, especially with home-field advantage, he was even better than Riley.
But when it came to stunts and showing off, Riley had him beat hands down.
Riley knew how to work the crowd, knew how to perform stunts. After all, they’d gotten him millions of views on YouTube. Riley knew what flips looked harder than they actually were, and that a fall every now and again made everything seem much more dangerous and immediate.
For three hours, Riley made sure the attention was on him while doing his best not to irritate his host too much. Sayed didn’t like to be beat and was used to being the best rider on the course.