Spies in Stilettos [Book Two]

Chapter Seven: What's A House Without Secret Passages?

Wow, it feels like forever since I've been on here but it's really only been a few days...I got home real late last night from the March for Life in DC, which was...wow. Incredible. I have no words to describe it. More than half a million people came to stand up for life! It was amazing to experience. I hope you guys saw some of it on the news, I dunno how good the coverage was this year cuz they never show it -_- meh. But yeah, finally here's the next chapter! Please vote and comment and enjoy! I'm not sure when I'll next be able to upload cuz I have a mountain of Euro and algebra and...basically loads of homework but yeah whatever. I might just procrastinate.

Pic of Kieran ---->

Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Seven

What's A House Without Secret Passages?

"We have to get out of here," said Patrick, crossing the room to the closet. Zach stepped away from me, still pale, and I kept my hand in his as Patrick picked up the painting and looked over at us with a strange expression.

"What do we do now?" I asked with a sudden sense of uselessness. I wasn't a spy or agent or anything; what chance did I have against all those men and their guns? I didn't even know what was going on. I wanted to ask who Pazzini was, but Zach's face stopped me.

Patrick opened the closet door, stepped inside briefly, and then emerged again, tossing something in my direction. I looked down as a pair of flats landed at my bare feet, and Patrick said with a little smile, "It's going to be hard to walk around in heels, Nat, get those on."

"You're a genius," I said fervently and slid my feet into the black flats; luckily Carolyn was close to my size. Zach pulled on my hand impatiently, his eyes constantly moving to the door, but he made no move to leave the room as Patrick came forward to stand in front of us, instead asking aggressively,

"What else haven't you told me? How did you know Pazzini would be here?"

Patrick sighed, running a hand over his face. "Jer knew," he replied. "I guess Pazzini really wants to get his hands on this painting, partly because it's worth a couple million and partly because he knows it's important to us." All at once he looked fed up. "I don't know why the CIA didn't just record whatever it was they wanted and burn the damn thing."

Zach's grip on my hand was very tight. "The man who originally tried to steal the painting," he said slowly. "The one I knocked out – he wasn't in the room when you first noticed it was gone?"

"No," said Patrick, shaking his head. "No one was – not the guards, no one. That's why we thought you had taken it."

"So in those few minutes, he had to have regained consciousness and somehow get to Pazzini to tell him I had the painting." Zach's jaw tightened. "That's how he knows."

Patrick was giving him a wary look. "I guess so...look, we have to get going, we're being stupid staying here. We should see if we can find Kieran or someone – I didn't see him in the ballroom – and we have to do something with this painting."

Zach nodded, though his eyes were distracted, and Patrick slid one hand into his jacket into his suit jacket, pulling out a gun. Tucking the painting under his arm, he moved towards the door and checked outside briefly before gesturing for us to follow. As we stepped into the carpeted hallway, I asked Zach why he didn't have a gun. He grimaced and said, "Jer wouldn't give me one. Didn't trust me, I guess."

"More like he didn't want you to have one if you ran into Pazzini," said Patrick, facing forward as we walked down the hall. "In case you did something crazy. He was watching out for you, bro, right up to when he thought you took the painting."