The computer beeped.
Max and Twist turned. Micah half-stood, looking at the computer screen.
Maxence asked him, “Was that it?”
Twist jumped to the keyboard and began typing. “Yep, looks like it. Give me a minute.” He ripped a piece of paper from a notebook and scribbled on it.
Arthur had sauntered over and was peering over Tristan’s shoulder. “Cosine.”
“Right,” Twist said, tapping the calculator app on his phone and scribbling faster.
The computer beeped again.
Micah asked, “Is the signal moving?”
Arthur shook his head. “Same three towers.”
Maxence stayed quiet and let the technical people do their work. His uncle had impressed upon him that a good ruler knows when to shut up and let other people do their jobs.
“Since we have a ping,” Twist said to Arthur, “can you turn on the camera and mic from your phone? Maybe we can get some information that way.”
“Oh, yes. Of course.” Arthur began thumbing his phone.
Max’s jaw dropped. “You werewatchingme through my phone’s camera and listening to myconversations?”
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Just because Icoulddoesn’t mean Idid.Your life is far too boring to watch like the telly. And it was for your own good.”
“After we recover Dree, you will disconnect my phone and any other computer of mine from yours,and you will keep your malware to yourself, Arthur.”
“Fine, fine,” Arthur grumbled.
Micah packed his computer into his messenger bag, but he was eyeing them when he thought they weren’t looking.
“Can you see her?” Maxence asked, praying that he could see or hear Dree and that she was all right. “Can you hear anything?”
Arthur shook his head. “Just darkness.” He held the phone to his ear and closed his eyes. “Maybe there’s something, but it’s muffled like the microphone is buried somewhere.”
Damn.
Twist shoved the paper at Micah. “Double check the math.”
Maxence’s ragged fingernails bit his palms and re-opened one of the scabs across his fingers that the bandages didn’t cover.
Micah scrutinized the paper and tapped a few numbers into his phone before he stood. “The location is just outside of Cap-d’Ail.”
“Great,” Arthur said. “Twist can pinpoint the phone’s location as more pings come in, and he can call us with her exact location while we’reen route.Come on, Casimir and Max.”
The three of them began walking toward the door in the rear of the yacht.
“Wait,”Twist said, pointing at Maxence with his pencil. “He’s the Prince of Monaco—”
“Aprince, notthePrince,” Max corrected him. “I’m not the sovereign. It’s just a courtesy title.”
“Okay, butthis is nuts. You’ve got two princes and a billionaire earl who arepersonallygoing on a rescue mission.That’s insane.Shouldn’t one of you be able to call the police or some special forces or professionals or something?”
Maxence shook his head. “I’m having a security problem. I can’t trust anyone who works for Monaco or France right now withanything.Monaco’s Secret Service and God only knows how many other departments have been infiltrated or compromised by my Uncle Jules, the Russian mafia, or more likely,both of them.”
Casimir said, “I’m just a California lawyer. I’m not aworkingmember of the Dutch royal family, and I have no authority. The Netherlands is too far away to call for back-up, anyway. It would take hours.”
