Highest Rank:
||Mystery/Thriller #1||
||Action #3||
We don't have a written manual on how to survive being a teenage girl and an agent for a secret government organization but there are definitely a few unmentioned rules that we spy girls go by:
...
Surprise kiddos! Here's an early update because I'm in San Fransisco visiting family and I was bored so I had time to write up a chappie.
"She does not want us involved at all," I mutter as we were waiting in one of the studies in the embassy. We had agreed to meet Sara here so she could take us up to Marco's room where the kidnapping had happened.
"Well sucks for her because we are involved," Blaire commented with a smile.
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"This isn't supposed to be some sort of fun day trip, this is serious," Bianca told her,glaring angrily.
"Honey, I put the fun in dysfunctional. Now shut up. We're looking for kidnappers not murderers so don't kill my vibe," Blaire responded immediately. Great, now they're back to killing each other.
"Can you two just stop for five minutes? If we don't work together, R.I.P won't take us seriously," Tiffany scolded both of them. Her cold eyes made me squirm and they weren't even meant for me. Tiffany will make a great mom someday. Scary as hell? Sure, but a great one nonetheless.
"If you're all done with your boring foreplay, I'd like to take you up the crime scene so you can do your job and stop wasting my time," Sara's voice echoed icily through the study and we all turned to look at her in embarrassed silence.
"Well come along children, don't just stand there," she said motioning for us to follow, but I could tell by the way she all but spit out the word 'children' that she wouldn't mind leaving us behind one bit.
"The Prime Minister is also upstairs willing to answer any questions you need to know in order to make a file on the kidnapping," Sara explained as she led us down the empty and quiet halls of the embassy.
Since we had a direct case from R.I.P, we were dismissed from our jobs as interns at the museum for the time being. Not that any of us minded missing out on picking up left behind soggy maps, litter, and making sure snotty kids didn't place their hands on the priceless art. We weren't exactly mourning our loss.
"Up these stairs is the East Wing where the Prime Minister and his family all have their own rooms. It's like the penthouse of the Embassy," Sara told us while we walked up the grudgingly steep and somewhat filthy stairs. They looked like they hadn't been used in ages which was odd since supposedly the family lived up stairs implying they'd have to go up and down these steps every day.
The halls of the East Wing were even more lavishly decorated than the rest of the Halls of the Embassy. There were several portraits of past Prime Ministers and several pieces of art that were grand enough to be in the museum. If we so much as breathed too much, I felt like we'd knock something down and break a priceless artifact worth more than my entire family.
With it's large open and airy windows allowing bright sunshine into the exquisite halls, it was hard to imagine a kidnapping happening in the picturesque environment portrayed in the East Hall. It seemed like a nearly impossible task to have kidnapped Marco in broad daylight.
