Riyadh, Saudi Arabia

- My God, it's so hot! - complained Enzo for a change.

- An extra reason to get out of this hellhole as soon as possible. - Vini added.

Vini was right. But as it turned out, the desert heat would be the least of the gang's problems. Although the sun practically melted the soles of Enzo's shoes. Stupid problems aside, Mohammed Bin-Al, the Saudi who bought Ana and hid her in his palace, was technically at an advantage because he was familiar with the criminal world and his area of operation. After all, buying people is not exactly a permitted trade by law. Still, Vini, Enzo and Belgium had the effect of surprise to counter-attack. At least that was the initial thought. And not only that. What did Vini have in mind to get Ana out of the palace protected by armed people? Well...

- We pretend to be the TV company, knock on the door, enter and get Ana out of the house. Without exchanging any shots.

Belgium was pretty much incredulous.

- This plan has more holes than a Swiss cheese.

- It doesn't need that much. - Enzo said. - The people here earn badly. We only have to offer three times as much they get and they'll take their clothes off for you.

- Not that we exactly want to see that. - Vini reminded. - But you get my point.

- Everything here is state-owned. If we intercept a vehicle, the rest is easy.

Vini and Enzo went to the headquarters of the state-owned television company in the capital. It was not difficult to find the building. Two metal sheds in the middle of several insignificant residences. At least it was unlikely that the TV signal would come with interference. Still, Vini and Enzo entered quietly like a dog trespassing on its neighbor's land. A man with long hair interrupted their stride and asked for information in Arabic.

Uh-oh.

- We are Amala Bin and this is Mohammed Alah. - said Vini.

- So? - The man still didn't seem convinced.

- We need the van. We're going to do a report on the local architecture.

- Vini, you idiot, no one with more than three brain cells is going to believe your nonsense...

- It's all right. - The man fell like a duck. - Which van do you want to use? The Mercedes?

Vini stared at Enzo, who ignored the teasing.

- We need uniforms. - Vini's requests were never ending. - You know how it is.

- Oh, sure.

Half an hour later, Enzo and Vini returned to the starting point, in characteristic Saudi proletarian clothing and an eight-seater Mercedes van. Everything was going strangely well.

- I don't believe it. - said Belgium, surprised. - You got a van and clothing?

- What can I say? I'm a genius. - Vini boasted. Deservedly so.

- And where do I fit in? - Belgium felt compelled to ask.

- You will be the hot girl reporter. - Enzo said.

- Very funny. - Belgium didn't like her character so much.

- What? - Vini didn't understand. - Few networks now invest in journalists based purely on beauty. It's not politically correct.

- Yeah, I miss the weather ladies with cleavage.

Opinions on modern journalism aside, Vini soon put his plan into action. The basic information about Mohammed Bin-Al's life was public, five minutes of Googling and you could even find his favorite restaurant. So it was not difficult to find the Saudi's address, a luxurious and private neighborhood. His residence took up practically the entire block. Getting in would be a risky task. But considering the circumstances and everything that had happened before, who gave a flying flip? Well, Vini knocked on the door twice, expecting an answer. A male voice probably asked the reason for the visit, in Arabic. Fortunately, Vini was always ahead of the forecast, as he memorized the lines he needed to answer in Arabic. Seconds later, the silver gate opened, like in those haunted house movies.

- Oh, this is gonna suck ass. - Enzo lamented in anticipation.

It was not too difficult to pass through the open courtyards of the residence. In fact, the interior looked like a private condominium, with palm trees and a stone path on the fake lawn. Vini looked around for security cameras and a way out, in case the situation got really messy.

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- All right, you go after Ana. - Vini said.

- Why don't you do this? - Enzo made a counterproposal.

- Do you know how to work with electronics and fuses?

- Of course not!

- Then you go find Ana!

- And you know how to handle them?

- More than you!

- Could the two nitwits focus on finding Ana? - Belgium asked an important question.

Still, it could be worse.

- Hey, is that a golf cart? - Enzo asked as he noticed a distinctive vehicle circling the grounds.

- Are you using your useless superpower?

- This place must be huge, Vini. How are we going to find her?

- We don't have a choice.

- You really don't! - Belgium said.

- Your girlfriend is making me mad. - Enzo complained.

- Go this way. Maybe I'll get lucky in the main room.

Enzo looked around.

- What main room?

- Just shut up and go!

Maybe it was the heat, but clearly they were slowly losing their temper. The idea of looking for her separately turned out to be a good one. At least for Vini, who could relax without having to listen to...

- Do it, Enzo! Go that way, Enzo! Your superpower is useless, Enzo! - Enzo did a stupid imitation of Vini. - Your superpower is to get an erection with a cucumber!

Alone upstairs, Enzo was trying to find a secret passage to another room, like in those James Bond movies. He checked everywhere, but nothing caught his attention. Until luck suddenly smiled on him. A photo of Mohammed and the missing boy in one of the picture frames. And Ana. The suspicions that something didn't seem right were evident.

- Oh. - Enzo made the connection of facts.

Then, the sound of a projectile in the barrel of a pistol right next to his ear interrupted his search.

- Oops. I seem to have lost my way. - Enzo tried to disguise it.

- Who are you? - said the owner of the gun in surprisingly good english.

- No one. - Enzo raised his arms. - I just want to know about my friend.

Taking advantage of the flinch, Enzo struck the man with an elbow, and the enemy staggered back, giving Enzo time to run to one of the random doors on the second floor. Unfortunately, as he opened it, he got an unpleasant surprise. Ana on top of the Saudi. Doing... Well, you know.

- Holy mother of shit!

- Enzo? - Ana's eyes widened in surprise. - Fuck! Save me!

- You don't look like you need saving. - Enzo said.

Above their heads, everyone there could hear the sound of a helicopter. Who in their right mind would fly over a billionaire's house? Ana's father, of course. That should be their rescue. That's what it indicated. The man struck by Enzo started shooting in all directions.

- Holy shit! - Enzo shouted and threw himself close to Ana. - What the fuck is going on?

- I think it's my father. - said Ana.

- Are you sure it's not Daniel Craig?

- Shut up Enzo!

As soon as the shooting stopped, Enzo stretched a little to check the situation. Mohammed and his accomplice were gone. The helicopter landed in the Saudi's garden. Indeed, Ana's father climbed down from the aircraft and soon intimidated Mohammed's men. Ana came running towards her father, in a touching scene. No matter what, she loved him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Vini and Belgium waving. As soon as the father and daughter moments were over, she came running to Belgium and Vini, who hugged her as well.

- You guys came all the way here? - Ana didn't seem to believe in such altruism.

- Why on earth would I come to Saudi Arabia? - Enzo asked. - Tourism?

- There are some very nice places here.

- And here we go. - Vini lamented.

But there was still one more thing missing.

- Where is that son of a bitch? - Enzo asked.

The noise of the steel gate smashing made a huge bang. A silver Hummer drove across the sidewalk and sped away, carrying trash cans and pieces of grass on its bumper. Enzo looked at Vini and smiled. This could mean one thing:

- Oh, no. Another car chase.