Delta: A Spy Novel

Chapter Three

'Lo, y'all. So, um, i hope you're not too mad at me for not updating, i was trying to finish my other book, "A Weather Eye on the Horizon." I did finish it, so i'm very happy. Maybe you guys could go check that one out? Okay, so here's the next chapter, and please comment and vote and stuff. Tell me what you think!  Thanks so much you guys! love y'all!

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 P.S. PIC OF ASTRID ------------------------------------------> And as for choosing the actors, the name "Astrid" was a coincedence, i've always liked the name so i chose it for my character, and then found that as the perfect actress, so yeah.

Chapter Three

♣         Josh          ♣

            The cool air of the apartment was amazing compared to the former sauna of the Great Outdoors. I had to agree with Astrid, this was a pretty nice place to live. Or stay, anyway. Astrid sat up on the bed as Pierre sat at the foot of it. Her eyes stayed on him even as I said, “Okay, Pierre, shoot.”

            Her crush on Pierre could get seriously annoying.

            Pierre glanced at her. “For starters,” he said, in his annoyingly superior voice. “You could get off my bed.”

            Astrid looked around. “Oh. This your bed?”

            Pierre rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he said patiently, “and the one next to that bed is Josh’s.”

            “Georges’s,” Astrid corrected. “You’re the only one with a real French name here. Although,” she added thoughtfully, “I guess you really are French, aren’t you?”

            Pierre sighed. “Honestly, Josh – okay, Georges – how could you stand a whole plane flight with her?” he asked incredulously. I grinned. “Astrid, or whatever your name is supposed to be now, you’re sleeping in that room.” He pointed: there was an adjoining door that led to a small room with a simple bed and dresser. “Now, am I allowed to start?”

            Astrid lay back on the bed. I think she liked the idea of being on Pierre’s bed. Not that I mean anything by that. “Knock your socks off,” she said, staring up at the ceiling. Pierre looked at her, shaking his head before he started again. I couldn’t help leaning forward as his voice took on a more serious tone.

            “All right. So, there’s this drug dealing group called G7 that operates with various poppy fields in South America. The group itself is supposed to be German. One of their leaders is supposed to be this guy named Decrioux – probably not even his real name. All we know is that he is a millionaire – or the French equivalent – living outside of Marseilles, in a mansion.”

            I frowned. “So what’s the problem? Why don’t they just storm his mansion thing and arrest him? Or at least do a drug raid?”

It seemed relatively simple to me – it definitely didn’t seem to need three fully qualified agents. All of us had started training before we were teenagers, around ten or eleven. Pierre, tall, dark, and eighteen, was completely badass: toned body, amazing marksmanship second only to Astrid, and expert in karate, tae kwon do, and more. His opinion of the authority figures of Delta was far from polite, a fact he rarely hid, even though he was crazy about rules and regulations. He was completely ruthless in everything he did – except when it came to his friends, which, I suppose, is why he’s put up with Astrid for so long.