Page 82 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

She got a grunt in response.

“I’m also aware that Peter occasionally works for the CIA and—”

The general came to halt about fifteen feet away from the now closed door. “Then you should know that the CIA is the most closemouthed organization on the planet.”

Georgia’s eyes flashed and she put her hands on her hips. “I don’t care. He saved my life and I want to know if he’s ok.”

“He’s ok. Now, there’s one thing I’m supposed to—”

It was Georgia’s turn to snort. She stomped over till she was nose to nose with him. “I’m not in a very good mood right now. Why? Because I’ve been threatened, assaulted, and shot at. Add that to the fact that I’m hungry, tired, and I haven’t had a shower in way too long, and what do you get?” Her voice rose with every word. “One veryannoyedwoman. Now, either you tell me how my uncle and Peter are, or I promise you, they’ll be able to hear me yelling in New York.”

Turner stared at her for two whole seconds before a huge grin split his face. “You’re not shy, are you?” Chuckling, he patted her shoulder. “Mr. Welis left instructions to inform you of his...condition, and since you’re next of kin, of course you should know how Teddy is doing.”

Georgia rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?”

“I had to make sure you understood the sensitive nature of the information first.” He patted her again, and she had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. She wasn’t a five-year-old.

“I understand.”

He nodded. “Your uncle suffered some blood loss, but he’s had a couple of units of blood and is now busy yelling at my staff. You’re to call your aunt and reassure her.”

“Once I’ve seen him, I’ll do that.”

“One of the nurses will be by shortly to take him to his room.”

“Mr. Welis?”

“Was in surgery to remove a bullet from his back. It nicked his liver, but the doctors were able to get the bleeding under control. He’ll make a full recovery. He’s being sent Stateside.”

Georgia sighed with relief. Peter was alive. He was going to be ok. “Where?”

Turner shook his head. “Can’t tell you that.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he waved her down. “Sorry. No getting around that one. But Mr. Welis did ask me to give you a personal message.”

That brought her up short. “He did. What is it?”

“He said, I’ll meet you on the beach.”

Georgia stared at the floor. Memories of their conversation in the dark basement replayed in her mind.

She glanced at the aging warrior. “That’s it?”

“He had me write down the name of a place. He said you’d know what it meant.”

She took a slip of paper from the general. “Thank you.”

He nodded. “You and the rest of the embassy staff will be flown to Washington in a couple of hours.”

“Oh,” Georgia replied absently. Her mind filled with images of sand, surf, and Peter. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded again and turned to walk away.

The deep rattle of a jet engine passing overhead pulled her out of her reverie.

“Wait,” she called. “What about the warhead?”

“Ma’am?”

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