Page 60

And he’d been wiggling there in her awareness, like a brain worm, ever since.
Maybe it wasn’t just her.
Red widened her perceptions.
He was attracting attention amongst the women. There was a stir of jealousy that they, too, wished to be swept around the dance floor by someone gallant enough to have this guy’sskills and not use them to boost his own ego but to showcase the woman in his arms.
He was the ball’s Pied Piper, mesmerizing the women with dance instead of music.
Charming, yes. Butuninterestingto her mission unless he turned out to be part of the ring deal.
And since Elena’s gaze wasn’t locked on his, and she was continuously scanning, Red thought Elena was immune to the man’s elegance. She was here for the deal.
Understandable. It was about forty million euros sliding into her bank account and averting a possible indictment for the murder of five men and whatever the German equivalent was to manslaughter for Dr. Klein’s death.
So no, Elena wasn’t distracted by him.
But he, most certainly, was fixated on Elena.
It didn’t matter.
He didn’t matter.
Elena was the goal.
As the last strains of the dance were played, Red watched as the man bowed and Elena curtsied. Red watched as he seemed to notice something on the floor and crouched to pick it up right near the heel of Elena’s shoe.
At that moment, Grey arrived by Red’s side, and she repositioned him so she could keep her eyes on Elena.
Elena’s gaze was on the door that exited toward the ladies’ room. The man rose fluidly, holding out his discovery. Elena touched her ear and shook her head; no, it wasn’t her earring. “She’s going to head to the ladies’ room,” Red told Grey. “Keep an eye on her in case I’m wrong. I want to get there first. Time to plant some electronics.” And time to get away from this guy and his strange effect.
“Get to it,” Grey said. “Good luck.”
***
Red bent over the sink, reapplying her lipstick as Elena entered the ladies' room.
With a quick look around to see the attendant adjusting a woman’s dress and smoothing the back for her, Elena pulled out her phone and texted.
Red put her lipstick back in the pocket hidden in the folds of her dress. She caught Elena’s gaze in the mirror. “Pockets!” she said victoriously, feigning a French accent.
“I’m jealous,” Elena said, pulling her bag forward. It hung on a black beaded chain that blended with her gown. “But in a dress cut as this one, it would not work.”
“Your gown is stunning, if impractical. But who wishes to be practical on such a night as this?” Red reached into her pockets and pulled out a handkerchief, her phone, and a tiny bottle of hairspray, placing each on the counter before reaching into the other pocket to retrieve a comb. “The designers this year are not our friends. Have you noticed the waistlines? How do they expect us to breathe?” Red pretended to use the comb and spray her hair and used her hands to smooth any frizzes into place. In fact, with the salon's spray, Red wasn’t sure she’d ever need to comb her hair again.
With her banter and primping, Red was trying to accomplish two things simultaneously.
She used her chandelier earrings to take pictures of the rings on Elena’s hands.
And, with Red’s phone lying inches from Elena’s. Red pressed the side button to activate the spiderware that moved through the WIFI. Within moments, it should reach into all the crevices of Elena’s world—any app, file, connection, or contact that had been accessed from Elena’s phone was now accessibleto Langley. That was unless Elena had protections that could thwart CIA software. And it wouldn’t be helpful if this was Elena’s burner phone. From the tiny scratches on the corner, Red was sure that wasn’t the case.
Elena’s phone pinged. She sent Red a flat-lipped, this-chat-is-over smile and moved to a stall. Red walked down to the end and entered a booth far enough away that Elena wouldn’t feel crowded or, worse, followed.
Red opened her own phone expectantly.
There it was.
Spyware success. On the app’s display was the phone number that had called in and the readout of voices being recorded.