Free Extradited by Andrew Symeou Page A

myself.
    When I knew that my family were out of sight, I looked back and wiped away the silent tears.
    ‘Andrew, when we get to the airport, we aren’t going to handcuff you. Usually, we would – in some cases maybe even put you in an airport cell, but we’re gonna take you for a coffee,’ one of them said to me.
    ‘Thanks, I really appreciate that,’ I replied. ‘So what’s gonna happen after we go for a coffee?’ I asked.
    ‘Well, we’re meeting Greek police officers there and we will hand you over to them,’ one of them answered.
    ‘Andrew, I really feel sorry for you, mate. I can’t believe they’re extraditing you,’ Jamie said. I appreciated the comment and thanked him. I couldn’t believe that the words were coming out of his mouth. I knew they were just doing their job and that they could see that I was a threat to no one.
    Being extradited was a surprisingly normal process. In hindsight, it was just like catching a flight, only with police officersinstead of a partner or friends … and going to jail after landing instead of a plush resort.
    Jamie approached three plain-clothed Greek officers in the terminal. I shook all of their hands, which probably confused them a bit. I don’t know if they expected to see me being escorted in handcuffs with a rude demeanour, but they seemed slightly puzzled.
    We were early so the Scotland Yard officers took me for a coffee, as promised. The Greek officers sat on a table close by; they must have been thinking, what the hell is going on?
    ‘Seriously, Andrew, this is ridiculous, mate. There’s no way this would stand in a British court,’ Jamie said to me sympathetically.
    ‘What can I say? Our government signed up to something ridiculous that allowed this to happen,’ I replied.
    He ignored the comment and I noticed him look over to the Greek officers a few tables away from us.
    ‘What do you think?’
    ‘About them?’ he asked. ‘I think they’re all right, they seem fine.’
    ‘I’m crapping myself, I’ve never been extradited before,’ I said sarcastically. Both of the officers chuckled, not having a clue how to respond.
    We conversed over a coffee and it came to the point where I almost forgot that they were the officers handing me over to the Greek authorities. Jamie told me about his career and how he’d become a police officer, then worked his way up to Scotland Yard’s extradition unit. ‘It’s time to board, Andrew,’ he said. I felt faint as soon as I heard the words. The more I pretended it wasn’t happening, the easier it was to accept.
    I have a vivid image of walking towards the gate. It was a tunnel, and it felt as though I was on death row walking the mile. I was drained, and I had an emotion-fuelled headache because I had noidea what was going to happen once I landed. I stood next to the aeroplane door, wishing that I didn’t have to walk through it.
    ‘Good luck Andrew.’
    ‘Jamie – thanks,’ I said.
    I shook both of their hands. The other officer nodded as though he was saying, you can do this . As soon as I stepped onto the plane, I felt the vibrations of the engine running through my body. I smiled at the air hostess, as I would on a normal flight, then was escorted to the very back of the plane and told to sit in the left-hand window seat. Two of the Greek officers sat next to me and one sat in front. I studied them for a few moments; the officer next to me had quite a kind face – I didn’t find him threatening. The officer next to him had a cold, evil look in his eyes and the officer in front of me was older, maybe fifty-five years old and seemed to be smiling a lot of the time.
    ‘So what do you think of London, great city, eh?’ I said.
    ‘Yes, we went to Buckingham Palace and Big Ben, we saw it all!’ the officer next to me responded in perfect English. ‘I was looking at your Facebook group, you have thousands of supporters!’ he said.
    ‘I saw your sister speaking on YouTube,’ the evil-eyed