Page 14 of Trapped With the Secret Agent

He took several shots, utilizing the extra lenses to make it look good.

As he worked, he watched Ambassador Mitchell out of the corner of his eye and managed to eavesdrop once or twice. Things weren’t going well. Whoever the ambassador was talking to must have been trying to stall him because at one point, Mitchell used some harsh and descriptive language then demanded to speak to someone else. Things improved, but not by much. The US government wasn’t in the habit of giving in to terrorist demands, their no negotiation policy notwithstanding. Another country might have to become involved as an intermediary and that was going to take time, too.

Mitchell hung up the phone a few minutes before Peter was done taking pictures. He walked over and spoke a few words to Georgia, who kept her head down and answered so softly Peter couldn’t hear her at all. Good girl. She was following both the letter and the spirit of his hurried instructions. She might live through this yet.

But In-Charge wasn’t too happy about the two of them talking.

“What’s this? Speaking to your woman is not allowed.”

“I was attempting to reassure her.”

In-Charge sneered. “You’re in a position to reassure her of nothing.” He glanced at Georgia, who still had her head down. “Night is coming. Perhaps I’ll put her back in the little room with him.” He looked at Peter. “Maybe he will touch your woman, maybe not, but if my demands are not met by tomorrow at dawn, I will take her, then I will slit her throat. Understand?”

The ambassador grew pale. “Yes. I understand.” Sweat beaded on his forehead and trickled down the side of his face. The look he threw Peter told him everything he needed to know. The hours till dawn wouldn’t be enough time.

The terrorist threw some orders at his men. One grabbed Georgia by the arm, forcing her out. Another motioned with his rifle for Peter to follow and they were moved to the next office down the hall.

Neither said anything as the two terrorists positioned themselves in the open doorway, staring at them.

Peter smiled and nodded at them. “Has the food been ok for you guys?”

They didn’t move.

“Bet it’s not like Mom makes it, huh?”

No change.

“That is, if either of you bastards knew who your mother was in the first place.”

The two terrorists made no response.

Peter turned to Georgia and said softly, “I think we can talk freely.”

She didn’t look up and her hands were shaking.

Peter resisted the urge to wrap his arms around her. Every move they made would be reported and he didn’t want to give In-Charge any more leverage than he already had. Instead, he crossed his arms and made a point of looking at the wall above her head.

“Georgia, you’ve been just great,” he congratulated her in a soft tone. “You kept it together when most people would have lost it. I’m impressed.”

Georgia’s voice was hardly more than a shaky whisper. “Ambassador Mitchell asked me to give you a message.”

She sounded tense and scared. This couldn’t be good news.

“What is it?”

“He said, ‘Mother Hubbard’s cupboard is bare.’”

“Shit.” The furious whisper slipped out before he could stop it.

She finally glanced up. “What the hell is all this about?” Her whisper had an edge that pinpointed her position on the precipice of hysterics.

He had to calm her down. He was going to need her cooperation if he was going to save her life and get that bomb diffused.

“It’s code for the American government will never agree to their demands.”

She rolled her eyes and for the first time, took a step away from panic. It didn’t last. A minute later she began to hyperventilate. “Oh my God, they’ll come for me and—”

Peter didn’t let her finish. “I won’t let them hurt you, Georgia.” The thought of what would happen to her at the hands of that maniac and his men made him sick.

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