“What now?” asked Khalid.
“We get on the train.”
Gabriel guided Khalid to the appropriate platform and into a first-class carriage. Mikhail was seated at one end, Keller at the other. Both were facing the center, which was where Gabriel directed Khalid. The carriage was about one-third full. None of the other passengers appeared to realize that the man who had just relinquished his claim to the throne of Saudi Arabia was sitting among them.
“You know,” he said quietly into Gabriel’s ear, “I can’t remember the last time I took a train journey. Do you travel by rail often?”
“No,” said Gabriel as the TGV jerked forward. “Never.”
For the first three hours of the trip south, Khalid’s silenced phone vibrated almost without cease, but the kidnappers waited until the train reached Avignon before issuing their next set of instructions. Once again there was no name or number, only the automated female voice. She told Gabriel to hire a car at the Gare de Marseilles–Saint-Charles and drive to the ancient citadel town of Carcassonne. There was a pizzeria on the avenue du Général Leclerc called Plein Sud. They would drop the girl somewhere nearby. “And don’t bring the two bodyguards,” the voice warned flirtatiously. “Otherwise, the girl dies.”
Gabriel rang King Saul Boulevard and ordered two Hertz cars, one for Mikhail and Keller, the other for Khalid and himself. They were both Renault hatchbacks. Mikhail and Keller departed first and headed north toward Aix-en-Provence. Gabriel headed westward along the coast, into the blinding late-afternoon sun.
Khalid trailed a forefinger through the dust on the dashboard. “At least they could have given us a clean car.”
“I should have told them it was for you. I’m sure they would have found something nicer.”
“Why did you send your men toward Aix?”
“To see whether the kidnappers will be stupid enough to follow them.”
“And if they do?”
“They’re likely to get a rather rude surprise. And our chances of getting out of this in one piece will increase dramatically.”
Khalid was admiring the sea. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“I’m sure it looks better from the deck of the world’s largest yacht.”
“Secondlargest,” Khalid corrected him.
“We all have to economize.”
“I suppose I’ll be spending much more time aboard it. Riyadh is no longer safe for me. And when my father dies—”
“The new crown prince will treat you the same way you treated your predecessor and everyone else who posed a threat to you.”
“That’s the way it works in my family. We give the worddysfunctiona whole new meaning.” Khalid smiled in spite of himself. “I plan to devote the rest of my life to Reema. She lovesTranquillity. Perhaps we’ll take a trip around the world together.”
“She’s going to need a great deal of medical and psychiatric care to recover from what she’s been through.”
“You sound as though you speak from experience.”
“Read my file.”
“I have,” said Khalid. “It contained a reference to something that happened in Vienna. There was a bombing. They say—”
“This might come as a surprise to you, but it’s not something I wish to discuss.”
“So it’s true? Your wife and child were killed in front of you?”
“No,” said Gabriel. “My wife survived.”
The sun was blazing on the horizon—like a car, thought Gabriel, burning brightly in an otherwise quiet square in Vienna. He was relieved when Khalid abruptly changed the topic.
“I’ve never been to Carcassonne.”
“It was a Cathar stronghold in the Middle Ages.”
