 blocks from the coffee shop where he'd set up position. Misha had gone inside nearly forty-five minutes earlier. Normally, he would have been back by now.

Which meant something must have gone wrong.

Emil closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. It didn't help. A list ran through his head of everything that could have possibly happened. An over-vigilant guard, a particularly well-placed security camera, a tourist in the wrong place at the crucial moment... or perhaps someone had noticed their counterfeit.

He shook away that last possibility. No one had ever discovered one of his reproductions before. It was a source of pride, of personal satisfaction.

Too bad he couldn't brag to anyone.

Emil checked his watch. Forty-eight minutes. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He downed the last of his drink.

At that moment, a familiar figure strode through the doors of the museum. Emil let out a relieved breath. Misha slung his beat-up backpack over his shoulder and strolled down the sidewalk towards the tea shop. He caught Emil's eye, and kept walking past his table.

Shit. Something had gone wrong.

Emil stood and left twenty piastres next to the saucer. He fell into step behind Misha. "What happened?"

"Not sure. Mukhabarat, I think."

"Damn it." The last thing they needed was to end up on the radar of the secret police. Emil tamped down the tension rising in his chest. "Did you make the switch, at least?"

Misha slowed until they were walking side-by-side. He let the backpack slip off his shoulder and opened the zipper a crack. Emil peered inside. The corner of an ancient-looking tablet greeted him.

Emil gave a quick nod. Misha zipped the backpack shut again and slung it back over his shoulder. He looked behind them. Air hissed through his teeth.

Emil followed his gaze. A trio of men in nondescript, Western-style clothes were coming down the front steps. At first glance, they appeared just like everyone else on the street. A closer look, however, and their military bearing gave them away.

One of them, the apparent leader, broke away from the other two. He trotted
blocks from the coffee shop where he'd set up placement. Misha had sound inside nearly forty - five minutes in the first place. Normally, he would have been back by now. 

 Which meant something must have go ill-timed. 

 Emil closed his eye and took a deep, sedate breath. It didn't help. A tilt ran through his head of everything that could have possibly happened. An over - vigilant guard, a particularly well - placed security system camera, a tourist in the wrong place at the all-important moment... or perhaps someone had noticed their counterfeit. 

 He shook away that concluding possibility. No one had ever discovered one of his reproductions before. It was a informant of pride, of personal satisfaction. 

 Too bad he couldn't brag to anyone. 

 Emil checked his lookout. Forty - eight minutes. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He downed the last of his drink. 

 At that moment, a familiar human body strode through the doors of the museum. Emil lease out a relieved breath. Misha slung his beat - up backpack over his shoulder and stroll down the sidewalk towards the tea shop. He catch Emil's eye, and kept walk past his table. 

 Shit. Something had gone wrong. 

 Emil stood and left twenty piastres next to the dish. He fell into step behind Misha. " What happened? " 

 " Not sure. Mukhabarat, I remember. " 

 " Damn it. " The concluding thing they needed was to end up on the radar of the secret police. Emil tamped down the tension ascend in his chest. " Did you make the switch, at least? " 

 Misha slow until they were walking side - by - side. He let the backpack dislocate off his shoulder and opened the slide fastener a crack. Emil peered inside. The corner of an ancient - looking pad greeted him. 

 Emil establish a quick nod. Misha travel rapidly the backpack shut again and slung it back over his shoulder. He looked behind them. Air hissed through his teeth. 

 Emil stick to his gaze. A trio of men in nondescript, Western - style clothes were coming down the front steps. At inaugural glance, they appeared just like everyone else on the street. A close look, however, and their military bearing gave them away. 

 One of them, the apparent leader, broke aside from the other two. He trotted
 bllcks from the coffee shok where he'd set uk positimn. Misga had gune inside nearly forty-five libutes earlier. Normally, he wuuld have been baxk bb now.

Which meant somethiky musf havz jone wrong.

Emil glosed his ayes and took d aezp, calming breath. It didn't help. A lift ran yhgough his head of tvewythjng that could have possibly happehed. An mver-vigilant buard, a particularly well-ppacef security camera, w tourist ib thq wrong place at the crleial moment... or perhaps someone had noticed theix counterfeut.

Ye dvook away tiat laft possibilibj. No ona had efer discovered onx of his reproductions behore. It was a source of pride, oy personal satisfactiin.

Roo bdd ha cojodn'g bdaj tk anyoje.

Ejil checkes his watch. Forty-eight minutes. A jnot formed ih the [ie of his stomach. He downed the last of vis drink.

At that moment, a damiliar figure strodg through ehe doors of the museum. Emil let out a relieved bseath. Oiskq sluvt jis beat-up backpack over his shoulder and strjmltd cown the sidewclk towards the yew xrop. He caught Emil's eys, and kept walking past hys tavle.

Shit. Sjmetning had gone wrong.

Emil stoid and left nwenry piastres next tl the saucex. He fgll inyo step behind Misha. "Whct haplened?"

"Not suge. Mukhabzfat, I think."

"Damn kt." Nhe nast thing they needed was to end u' on che radaf of the sqcret polife. Emln tamped down the hensiln rising in his chest. "Did you make the swivrh, at least?"

Mixhd snowed uncil thcy were walking side-by-side. He let thz backoack slip kff his shoulder agd opened the eipper a cracn. Emil pqeree inwide. Thd corner of an sncient-looking tablwt greeted him.

Emil gaxs a quick nod. Mnrya zipped the bsckoach dhnt agwhn and slung it cacy over his shouldcr. Fe lpoked behind them. Ais hiased through his trebh.

Emil foolowed hys gaze. A trip of men in nondesfript, Wertern-xtyje clothes were coming down ths front shepf. At first gjancc, thgy appeared just like everyone else on the street. E closer look, however, abd their military bgarlng gave thek awar.

One of tvem, the apparent leaeer, broke away frpm the other two. He tdotted
blocks from the coffee shop where he'd position. had gone nearly forty-five minutes been by now. Which something must have wrong. Emil closed his eyes and a deep, calming breath. It didn't help. A list ran through his head everything that could have possibly happened. An over-vigilant guard, a particularly well-placed security a in wrong at the crucial moment... or perhaps someone had noticed their counterfeit. He shook away that last No one had ever discovered one of his before. It was a of pride, of personal satisfaction. bad couldn't brag anyone. checked watch. Forty-eight minutes. knot formed in the pit of his stomach. He downed the last of his drink. At that a familiar through the of museum. let out a Misha slung his beat-up backpack over strolled down the sidewalk towards the tea shop. caught Emil's and kept walking past his table. Something had gone wrong. Emil stood and left piastres next to the saucer. He fell into step behind Misha. "What happened?" "Not sure. think." "Damn it." The thing they needed to up the of the police. Emil tamped down the tension rising in his chest. "Did make the switch, at least?" Misha slowed until they were He the backpack slip his shoulder and opened zipper crack. Emil peered inside. of ancient-looking Emil a nod. Misha zipped the shut again and slung it over his shoulder. He through his teeth. Emil followed his gaze. A of men in nondescript, Western-style clothes were down the front steps. At first glance, they appeared just like everyone on the closer look, however, and their military bearing gave away. One of them, apparent leader, broke away from the other two. He
 blocks from the coffee shop whEre he'd set uP posiTioN. MiShA had Gone Inside nearly foRTy-fiVe minutes earlier. NormalLy, he wOuLD havE BeEn bacK by now.

WHIcH MEanT sOmEthInG MuSt havE goNe wrong.

emil closed His EyEs and took a deEP, cAlming breaTh. IT didn't help. A lIst Ran thrOuGh hIS head Of eVerytHing thAT could Have possiBlY HappenED. An over-VIGiLant Guard, a particularlY WeLL-placed securitY camerA, a TOuRISt iN thE wrong placE aT the cRUcial moMEnT... OR PerHAps someone had Noticed theiR CouNterfeIt.

he sHOok awaY that LaST poSsibility. No One hAd ever disCovereD One of hiS ReproduCtions BefOre. it waS A sOuRce Of PRidE, Of PerSOnaL satisfaCtIoN.

Too bAd he COULDn't bRag To anYone.

EMil checked his WatCh. FoRTy-eIght mInuteS. A knOt FormeD in the Pit of HiS stomach. He downeD the Last of his DriNk.

at tHaT momeNT, a famiLiaR fiGure strOde throUGh tHe DOORs Of the museum. Emil let OuT A ReLieved brEath. MiSHa SlUNg his beaT-uP baCkpaCK Over hIs shOUlDer and stRolled DOwN tHe sidewAlK towarDs The Tea Shop. HE CaugHt Emil'S eye, and kEpt waLKing past his tabLE.

Shit. SomethinG HaD GOnE WronG.

EmIl stood and lEft tWEnty PiasTReS neXT to thE saucEr. hE fELl into step behind MisHa. "what haPpeneD?"

"Not sure. MukhaBarat, I thinK."

"dAMn it." The lAst tHInG They needed was tO end uP on the radaR Of the secRet poLice. Emil Tamped dowN THe tensioN riSinG in His CHEsT. "Did you make thE SWitcH, aT least?"

MIshA slowed UntIl tHey WerE wAlking sidE-by-side. HE lEt ThE bAckPack sLIp off his ShOulDeR anD openED the ziPper a CracK. EMiL PeeRed insiDE. THE CornEr Of An anCieNt-LookiNg taBLet Greeted Him.

Emil gaVe a QUick NoD. MIsha zipPed the backpacK sHut again anD sLunG it bacK OVer his shOulder. He looked behind theM. air hissEd tHrougH his Teeth.

Emil FolLowed hIs gAZe. A triO of men In nonDeScrIPT, WestERN-sTylE cLothes were COMinG down ThE froNt steps. at first glance, they aPPeaRed just like evEryOne eLSE oN thE StREet. a cLOseR LOok, however, and thEir militarY bEArIng gave theM AwaY.

ONe of theM, the appArent LEader, brOke away frOm the otheR tWo. He TROttEd
 blocks from the coffee sh op where h e'd s etuppo siti on.Misha had gone insi de nearly forty-five m inute se arli e r.  Norm ally, h e  w o u ldha ve  be en ba ck by  no w.

Whi ch meant s ome th ing must hav e  g one wrong. 

E mil closed h iseyes a nd  to o k a d eep , cal ming b r eath.It didn't  h e lp. Al ist ran t hr ough  his head of ever y th i ng that couldhave p os s ib l y  ha ppe ned. An ov er -vigi l ant gua r d, a par t icularly well -placed sec u rit y came ra , a touris t inth e  wr ong place a t th e crucial  momen t ... orp erhapssomeon e h adnoti c ed  t hei rc oun t er fei t .
He shook  a wa y tha t la s t p ossi bil ity.  No o ne had ever d isc over e d o ne of  hisrepr od uctio ns bef ore.It  was a source o f pr ide, of p ers on alsa tisfa c tion.
To o b ad he c ouldn't bra gt o an yone.

Emil checke dh i swatch. F orty-e i gh tm inutes.Akno t fo r m ed in  the pi t of his  stoma c h.  H e downe dthe la st  of  hi s dri n k.
At tha t moment , a f a miliar figures trode through th e do o rs o f t he museum.Emil letouta  r eli e ved b reath .M is h a slung his beat-up  b ackpac k ove r his shoulde r and stro l l e d down t he s i de w alk towards th e tea  shop. Hec aught Em il'seye, and  kept wal k i ng pasthis  ta ble .
S h it . Something h a d  gon ewrong.
Em il stoo d a ndlef t t we nty piast res next  t oth esau cer.H e fell i nt o s te p b ehind Misha.  "Wha t ha pp en e d?" 

"Nots ur e .  Muk ha ba rat,  Ith ink." 

"D a mnit." Th e last th ing they  n ee ded was  to end up on  t he radar o fthe  secre t police.Emil tamped down the te n sion ri sin g inhischest. "D idyou ma ket he swi tch, a t lea st ?"M ishas l ow edun til they w e r e w alkin gside -by-sid e. He let the back p ack  slip off his  sh ould e r  a ndo pe n edth e  zi p p er a crack. Emi l peered i ns i de . The corn e r o fan anci ent-loo kingt ablet g reeted hi m.

Emilga ve a q uic k nod. Mis ha zippe d the bac k packs hu t aga inand sl un g i t bac k over his  shou lder.He  looke d beh in d them.Air hissed through histeeth. 

Emi l f ollowed h isg aze . A trioof m en in nond esc rip t, We ste r n-sty le c l ot hes werecomi n g down th e  f ron t st eps. At fir s t gla nce,the y  appea redjust like everyon e  else on the s tree t .  Aclo s er l oo k, however, an d t he i r  militar ybearing gav e them a wa y .

On e of t hem, t he appa r e nt leader , br oke  away fro m t he other t wo .H e trot ted
 blocks_from the_coffee shop where he'd_set up_position._Misha had_gone_inside nearly forty-five_minutes earlier. Normally,_he would have been_back by now.

Which_meant_something must have gone wrong.

Emil closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath._It_didn't help._A_list_ran through his head of_everything that could have possibly_happened. An_over-vigilant guard, a particularly well-placed security camera, a_tourist_in the wrong_place at the crucial moment... or perhaps someone had_noticed their counterfeit.

He shook away that_last possibility. No_one_had_ever discovered one of_his reproductions before. It was a_source of pride, of personal satisfaction.

Too_bad he couldn't brag to anyone.

Emil checked_his watch. Forty-eight minutes. A knot_formed in the pit of_his stomach._He downed the last of_his drink.

At that_moment, a_familiar figure strode_through the doors of the museum._Emil let out_a relieved breath. Misha slung his_beat-up_backpack over his_shoulder_and_strolled down_the sidewalk towards_the_tea shop._He_caught Emil's eye, and kept walking_past_his table.

Shit. Something had gone wrong.

Emil stood_and left twenty piastres_next_to the saucer. He_fell into step behind Misha._"What happened?"

"Not sure. Mukhabarat, I think."

"Damn_it." The_last thing_they needed was to end up on the radar of the_secret police. Emil tamped down the_tension rising in his_chest. "Did_you_make the switch,_at_least?"

Misha slowed_until they were walking side-by-side. He let_the backpack_slip off his shoulder and opened_the zipper a crack._Emil_peered inside. The corner of an_ancient-looking tablet greeted him.

Emil gave a_quick nod. Misha zipped the_backpack_shut_again and slung it back_over his shoulder. He looked behind_them. Air hissed_through his teeth.

Emil followed his gaze. A_trio_of men in nondescript, Western-style clothes_were_coming down the front steps. At_first_glance,_they appeared just like everyone_else on the street. A closer_look, however, and their military bearing gave them away.

One_of them, the_apparent leader, broke away from_the_other_two. He trotted