“She’s in danger,” Triumph told him. What didn’t he understand?
“She’s not in any more danger than she was five seconds ago. He’s not there, and it’s going to take them some time to meet. Before we can help, we need more information. Show me the video.”
Triumph handed over his phone, his whole body vibrating with frustration at inaction, while his friend watched the video, then watched it again, and then a third time.
Finally, Cosmos handed him back the phone. “Pull up the club.”
“I’ll never be able to see all of them on here. The thumbnails will be too small.”
“And the fact that you just said that to me proves you’re going to be no help to her right now. You’re not thinking; you’re just reacting.”
“What the fuck?”
“She’s still wearing her bracelet from the other night, isn’t she?”
“What?”
“Wow, all the blood seriously did shut down your brain and go to your dick. You don’t need to see all the cameras, dumbass. Use the Follow Me program you created.”
For the love of fuck, he was so stupid!
He’d created the program so that if they had a patron they needed to follow—someone they suspected was up to no good or someone they worried needed help—they could use the cameras to track them directly. It worked partially on facial recognition and partially on the RFID wristbands they wore, which allowed them to record everything from entry and exit to purchases to the activities they participated in while in the club. It was meant for data purposes to track supply orders, peak attendance times, and that sort of thing, but it also had the security side effect of letting them know exactly where someone was while they were in the club.
His fingers flew across the screen. When he switched over from Tripoli’s apartment to the club, he quickly scanned from camera one to two and on until he found her in the entrance of the club talking to Atlas. The man smiled at her, then gestured to his right before escorting her into the emergency hallway.
He hit an icon at the top of the screen that looked like an eye vector. Immediately, the thumbnail she appeared in took up three-quarters of the screen. Along the bottom, four thumbnails remained—the four closest cameras other than the one viewing her.
She must have asked him where the others in the club were, because as soon as she was in the kitchen with Atlas, she drew the gun from her pocket and gathered the staff members there into a corner.
“Does this have audio?” Cosmos asked, a frown on his face.
“No. But you can bet it will be the first change I make when this is over.”
All Cosmos replied with was a grunt as he continued to watch the screen.
Triumph continued to twitch. They needed to go. Now. What was the idiot looking for?
“If she called Guillermo, she’s smart. She’s bringing him to her.”
“How do you know?”
“Look at her. Really look at her.”
She talked to the workers. Calmly. Her face as she spoke clearly displayed a pleading expression. She confiscated their bracelets and herded them toward an external emergency exit. Without the bands, once the doors closed, they wouldn’t be able to reenter, even if they knew the emergency codes.
Cosmos’ phone rang.
“What is it, Trip?”
Triumph didn’t need the speaker to be turned on to hear his friend.
“Francesca. She’s free. They let her go. She’s on the west end of the River Walk, out in the open.”
“Not that I’m not happy about that, but why?”
“Guillermo said she had something more valuable than her person.” He paused. “He took her bracelet. He has full access to Elysium.”
THE CIA SHIT
