#the prologue is just the first ficlet set in the future but i didn't know where else to put it in the series

[youssefguedira]

<3<3<3 the joenicky diabolik au, hope you continue it!

thank you anon! glad you're enjoying it! and just for you, here is the next part (set after both previous ones), which is really just setting up some plot things, but enjoy anyway! (no nicky today, but he'll be back next time!) (tagging @eya-trying-to-function too)

other parts in the series:

[a prologue, of sorts] [part one] [part two] [you are here]

Despite the events of the night before, everything is still going to plan. If Di Genova is telling the truth - and Yusuf thinks he is, even if he has no real reason to - the paintings will be back where they belong, ready for the deal with Merrick. Then Yusuf will be able to leave Milan having completed what he came here to do, and he'll have an interesting story to tell Booker when he does.

This is what Yusuf is thinking about while he's at dinner that night, how he's going to describe the details of his meeting with Di Genova to Booker, and why he doesn't notice the man approaching his table immediately.

He'd wondered briefly when he sat down whether Di Genova was here, in the restaurant, but quickly shaken it away - he has a job to do, and he won't be distracted from it. The man who stands before him now, however, is definitely not the thief.

"Yusuf al-Kaysani?" the man says, in a way that sounds more like a demand than a question.

"Yes?" Joe answers, keeping his voice as polite as possible while also moving his hand slowly towards the knife on the table - it won't do much damage, but it'll be better than nothing if it comes to that. The man's eyes track the movement, and he smiles unkindly.

"Mr. Merrick requests your company," he says, nodding over to a table near the back of the restaurant, where sure enough, Merrick is watching them. Joe curses internally.

"The meeting wasn't scheduled until the day after tomorrow," he says, careful to sound more annoyed than worried. "If Mr. Merrick has a problem-"

"He is well aware of when the meeting was scheduled for," the man interrupts. "This is a different matter. He would like to speak with you now."

Joe glances around the restaurant. There aren't many others here at this time in the evening, and Joe wonders how many of them are in Merrick's pocket. The man takes a step closer, his hand drifting to his waist, where Joe can clearly see a knife hilt. He gets the message.

"Of course," Joe says, as politely as he can manage, and stands.

He follows the man over to Merrick, who smiles, though it doesn't seem at all genuine. "Mr. al-Kaysani. A pleasure."

Joe forces himself to smile back, even as he tries to work out what this is even about. "Mr. Merrick. This is earlier than I expected to meet. The paintings have not yet arrived, so if that is what you want to discuss, you will have to wait," he lies.

"No, I just have a few questions for you," Merrick says. He holds his hand out to the man who still hasn't moved from their table, effectively keeping Joe trapped, who passes him a file marked AK. Merrick flips open and pulls out a black-and-white photograph. He slides it across the table to Joe. "Is this not you, two weeks ago, meeting with the forger Sebastien le Livre?"

Joe looks down at the photograph, his heart already sinking. It's unmistakably him in the photograph, laughing at something Booker says. Behind him is a large package, the right size to be Merrick's paintings. Joe keeps his expression carefully neutral.

"Where did you get this?" he asks.

Merrick shrugs. "I have my sources." He slides over another photograph, and another. "Do these look familiar?"

They're both him - both with billionaires he'd sold to and who had had their unethical business practices exposed less than a month later. He'd been careful, he's always careful, but evidently it hadn't been enough. "What are you trying to imply, Mr. Merrick?" he asks.

Merrick smiles again, nastily. "I believe that the paintings you are planning to sell me are fake, and that you are going to use the deal as a front to find information that you will use to attempt to undermine me, is that correct?"

"You imply that there will be something to find," Joe responds.

Merrick ignores him and places the full file on the table. "I have evidence here of you breaking and entering multiple times, selling forgeries, and your… less than respectable past. I will, however, make you a deal: if you bring me the paintings, the real ones, in four days, then you can have this information and I will leave you alone. If you do not, I will release this information to law enforcement and the public. Is that clear?"

Joe stares him down. Merrick doesn't flinch.

"Do we have a deal, Mr. al-Kaysani?"

The man standing by their table moves closer threateningly. Joe's trapped.

"It seems we do," he says. Never mind that he doesn't know how he's going to manage getting the real paintings - which are held under high security - in four days.

"Good," Merrick says. "Keep the photos. As a reminder." He stands, then, snapping his file shut and nodding to the other man. "See you in four days."

With that, he leaves. Joe waits until he's out of sight, then gets up himself and leaves the restaurant.

He can't get word to Booker in time, or any of his other contacts. He'll have to figure this out on his own. He's on his way back to his hotel room when an idea begins to form, one that is quite possibly insane and has only a slim chance of working, but is the only real option he has.

He's going to need to find a way to contact the thief.