Run Girl: Ingrid Skyberg FBI Thrillers Prequel Novella Read Online Free PDF Page A

using the word ‘us’. The US? The embassy? The Bureau? And what the hell could it possibly have to do with her?
    Sol Franklin cleared his throat again and said, “You may or may not be aware that the Secretary of State is in Strasbourg at the moment—that’s in France, just in case your European geography is a little rusty—leading very delicate peace negotiations. It’s taken a long time to get the various warring factions to even agree to set foot in the same country, let alone the same room… but right now they’re battling head to head across a conference table, with the Secretary of State acting as a… global referee.”
    Ingrid let go of the breath she’d been holding, still unclear how any of that impacted on her. What could she add to any negotiations? She said nothing, hopeful Franklin would get to the point soon. She shifted in her seat and crossed her legs. Out of the corner of her eye, she sensed Angelis lean forward.
    “Can I get you anything, Ingrid? Coffee? Water?” he asked.
    “I’m perfectly fine, Mr Angelis.” She deliberately chose not to use his first name. The point wasn’t lost on him. With one eyebrow raised, he leaned back against the cabinet.
    “The Secretary of State traveled to France accompanied by her granddaughter,” Franklin continued. “Not normal protocol, by any means.” He patted the file beneath his hands. “In fact, it’s highly irregular and should never have been allowed to happen. But it did.” He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Apparently the girl has been having some… issues at home. She and her parents don’t see eye to eye—about very much at all. So I guess her grandmother must have thought it would be a good idea to distract her with a little European high culture.”
    “And doubtless a lot of shopping,” Angelis chimed in.
    “Quite possibly. Whether she was in Paris to look at the paintings in the Louvre or the shops along the Avenue Montaigne, is kind of beside the point right now.” He stared Ingrid in the eye. “The girl is missing.”

7
    Ingrid gazed back at him, speechless and motionless. Her mind was swirling with so many questions she was glad she was sitting down. The girl could have been abducted by any one of a number of organizations: terrorists, any variety of European mafia, from post oligarchy Russian to the old fashioned Sicilian kind, regular domestic criminal extortionists, religious fundamentalists. Holy crap . It was a diplomatic disaster.
    “Missing?” she finally managed.
    “She was assigned a private bodyguard paid for by her grandmother.”
    “Why weren’t Diplomatic Security guarding her?”
    “As the girl isn’t officially deemed a close relative, the personnel looking after the Secretary of State couldn’t be used to protect her granddaughter. The State Secretary can’t be seen to be misusing tax payers’ money and all. The guard assigned to protect her clearly wasn’t up to the job.”
    “And you think the girl’s been abducted?”
    Sol Franklin glanced at Angelis. “No, not abducted. It seems Rachel Whitticker deliberately slipped away from her bodyguard some time yesterday evening.”
    “She did what?”
    “Quite determined young thing, it would appear.” Angelis ran a hand through his thick quiff. And shook his head. “The tragedy is, Fortnum’s has an office in Paris, we could have coordinated the whole thing. If only the Secretary of State had known about us—we wouldn’t have let her granddaughter get away.” Angelis threw an accusatory stare in Sol Franklin’s general direction.
    “The French security company was recommended by the Bureau’s Chief of Mission in Paris. It’s on a list of approved suppliers. We’ve used their operatives in the past very successfully. That’s why we’re taking responsibility for—”
    “Clearing up the mess?” Angelis said.
    Ingrid felt as if she were watching a private fight between the two men. It was unseemly at best and downright