Page 63 of French Escapade

He’s pacing on his bridge, talking on his cell phone. If we were on one of my ops, I would have surveillance equipment. With the latest gear for my unit, I could hear every single word. Instead, I’m biding my time.

Two minutes later, Ted’s cell rings. The conversation is brief. Ted hangs up with a smile on his lips.

“The kid, his uncle is a Uber driver. The kid called him when Arkady asked for a taxi who knew how to keep his mouth shut. Andrea’s meeting him at Place des Lices, and says he’ll get all the information we need to track them.”

“Shall we get going, then?” Jimmy is out of patience.

“Nah, we wait a little bit more,” Ted answers. “We need to give the kid a chance to return, otherwise the captain will get suspicious and warn Arkady. God knows where he would go hide then.”

So, instead of looking at my watch and counting the seconds, I decide to enjoy the moment. After all, I’m sitting outside, on a terrace facing the harbor of the legendary town of Saint-Tropez. In front of me are the Mediterranean and luxury yachts. By my side, I have two friends and a wonderful young woman who risked her job to help me. A young woman whose hand I would love to keep on holding after all this is over with.

If only Madison was safe, I would be in heaven.

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