“Let’s see where they go.” Crooks double-clicked on each number, turning the icons red. For thirty seconds, Ava and the two unidentified parties remained standing on the Avenue Gustave Eiffel. And then, two new batons appeared at the right of the screen and sped jerkily along the street, stopping directly beside them.
“The getaway car,” said Mac.
“Quick learner.”
Another fifteen seconds passed. Mac imagined Ava being bundled into the back seat of a car, the kidnappers piling in after her. And then, all five icons—Ava’s blue baton, her kidnappers’ red batons, the drivers’ white batons—advanced rapidly down the street. The moment the five icons breached the digital fence, they disappeared.
“Outside the perimeter,” said Crooks.
“Go back,” said Mac. “I want to make sure those two were inside the restaurant.”
Crooks reset the time signature to 3:10. The two red icons appeared on the screen practically atop Mac and Ava, inside the restaurant. When Ava left, they went with her.
“I saw them on the security camera footage.” Mac took out his phone and showed Crooks the photographs he’d taken of the kidnappers from the restaurant’s security monitors.
“Is that the prince?” asked Crooks.
“That’s him,” said Mac. “Both of them were seated at a table beside us. They were watching us the entire time.”
“Right there? Brazen of them.”
“She thought it was a safe meet,” said Mac.
“How do you know?” asked Crooks.
“She left her gun at the hotel,” said Mac.
“I wouldn’t have done,” said Crooks.
Mac looked at his old friend. He’d had the same thought. You never went to a meet empty handed. Ava knew better.
“Still no idea why?” said Crooks. “I mean, the whole thing. What the woman was doing here? All these characters. Shady prince, Saudi hit men, some crazy politician in Jerusalem. She’s Mossad all those years. Something’s going down. Something big.”
Mac shook his head. He’d come to the same conclusion. Something big was going down. But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t find a thread to tie them all together. What did it matter anyway? His only concern was to find Ava and get her out of trouble. One step at a time.
“Can we follow the phone numbers?” he asked. “I want to see where they took her.”
“Where did you say he lived ... the shady prince?”
“Avenue Montaigne.” Mac had come across an article fromGulf Architectural Digestshowcasing the prince’s opulent residence. It was nice, Mac thought, if you liked lots of gold and marble and the odd masterpiece here and there.
Crooks drew a new perimeter on the city map. This time the area was much larger, encompassing the Golden Triangle and the streets surrounding it. He entered Ava’s number, as well as her kidnappers’, and set the time signature at 3:35. “Let’s take a look.”
He pressed Play. The icons popped up on the screen at the nearest corner of the triangle. “Got ’em,” said Mac, thumping Crooks on the shoulder.
The kidnappers were not immune to Paris traffic. Their vehicle required fifteen minutes to navigate the Quai d’Orsay and cross the Pont des Invalides. All three icons came to a halt before turning onto the Avenue Montaigne.
“Give me an address,” said Mac.
Crooks zoomed in and the street addresses popped up. “27 to 29. Right next door to the Hôtel Plaza Athénée. Sweet digs.”
“He’s a prince, Harry. What do you expect?”
Crooks kept the program running. At 4:25, Ava’s icon vanished. “Finally turned it off,” said Crooks.
“We know where she is,” said Mac.
“We know where her phone was yesterday afternoon at 4:25,” said Crooks.
