Run Girl: Ingrid Skyberg FBI Thrillers Prequel Novella (14 page)
Read Run Girl: Ingrid Skyberg FBI Thrillers Prequel Novella Online
Authors: Eva Hudson
Tags: #mystery, #thriller
He escorted her all the way to reception. “I know you’ll make the right decision.” With that he waved her goodbye.
Ingrid wandered toward Grosvenor Square in a daze. She’d just been offered a dream job and hadn’t jumped at the opportunity. What was wrong with her? A tall figure stepped in front of her. She blinked and looked up into the smiling face of Nick Angelis.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked him, all thoughts of the job offer quickly banished from her mind.
“How did you enjoy your little surprise? It’s not every day you get to meet the Secretary of State.”
“She’s a very gracious woman.” Ingrid wasn’t sure when her heart rate would return to normal, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Angelis.
“She certainly is. I think she’ll be a formidable Secretary of State. The peace talks went better than anyone expected. She’s back in a couple of weeks for another round of negotiations. Without her granddaughter next time, one would hope.”
“Good for her.”
“And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“Your job offer.”
“You know about that?”
“I am in the intelligence business.” He winked at her.
“I told Sol I’d think about it. But I suppose you know that already too.”
Angelis smiled and gestured toward his motorcycle parked across the street. “Your carriage awaits.”
“My what?” Despite her better judgment, she found herself following him to the bike.
“You deserve a proper guided tour of this fair city, and by God, that’s exactly what you’re going to get.” They reached the bike and he handed her a motorcycle helmet. “I’ll let London itself influence your decision to stay. I have to warn you—it’ll be quite a compelling case.”
Ingrid shoved the helmet over her head and climbed on the bike. Maybe a few months away from home, from the VCAC program, and a little distance from Marshall, might help her decide what she actually wanted to do with her life. She felt herself warming slightly to the idea of a few months in another country.
And maybe a little adventure of her own.
By the time Angelis had ridden them past the major landmarks of central London, with a running commentary of the history of each one, bought her coffee in two of the finest coffee shops she’d ever visited, and shown her the cityscape in its full glory from Primrose Hill, a spectacular vantage point just north of London Zoo, Ingrid was completely sold on the idea.
For a little while at least, London was going to be home.
—*—
Thank you for reading
Run Girl
– I really hope you enjoyed it.
To find out when the next book in the Ingrid Skyberg FBI Thrillers series is released (and receive the occasional freebie)
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The first book in the series,
Fresh Doubt
, is available from Amazon here:
http://smarturl.it/freshdoubt
Here’s an excerpt:
FRESH DOUBT
Chapter One
The whole thing took less than a few seconds. A moment to shove the woman sideways, another to drag the straps of the purse from her shoulder, then finally a second more to snatch and scoop the bag into his arms. Then the young Caucasian male was away, barging into a crowd of early morning office workers making their way sedately along the Thames just east of Waterloo railway station.
Special Agent Ingrid Skyberg saw it all happen in slow-mo as she ran past. She glimpsed the woman’s mouth form a wide silent ‘O’, throw up her hands in disbelief then scream at the top of her lungs.
Ingrid had just been getting into her stride, feeling her muscles warm, absorbing the faint heat of the early morning April sun on her face.
“Goddammit,” she said to no one in particular, “why this morning?”
She pulled up fast—the perp was escaping behind her—and turned on a dime. A few seconds later she was in pursuit, all her previous momentum moving with her again as she tried to accelerate through the crowd.
“Stop!” she shouted, pumping her arms faster. “FBI!” Then she remembered herself, threw a glance over her shoulder and yelled at the mugging victim to call 9-1-1. The woman looked at Ingrid blankly. “I mean 9-9-9, call 9-9-9!”
Ingrid turned face front again and quickly realized she’d lost the perp. She scanned a sea of mildly disgruntled faces and shouted at them to get the hell out of her way. Scrutinizing the very edges of the crowd, she spotted him again, his shaven bright white head appearing a few inches above the general mass of commuters. She formalized his description in her head for later. White, male, five-eleven, one-seventy pounds, bald head, no more than twenty years of age. For a moment she considered grabbing her phone to relay the details to the local cops when the cell started to vibrate, tingling against her bicep. Whoever it was would have to wait.
The crowd cleaved in two in front of her, opening a central channel. Ingrid pumped her arms harder and gulped a deep breath, forcing air into her lungs as they were just starting to burn. She lengthened her stride and lifted her chin a little. She was starting to enjoy herself. She hadn’t felt this alert since the last Academy refresher course. And that had to be at least six months ago. No, longer. She quickly counted the weeks she’d been in the UK and realized she hadn’t been home for over four months. The embassy job was meant to be a temporary posting. How had she let it stretch out this long?
Thirty yards ahead of her the perp changed direction, darting quickly right, away from the river, and up a spiral flight of bright yellow painted concrete steps. He was tiring and Ingrid was gaining on him with every stride. “Stop! Police!” she yelled, as she took the first four steps in a single leap. She pushed hard against the concrete spiral with her arms, using the extra momentum as leverage to shoot her up the staircase faster. She looked up just in time to see a bottle of water hurtling toward her from above. She ducked quickly left, the half liter of Evian bouncing harmlessly off her shoulder.
“Sonofa…”
When she reached the top of the steps she located her quarry crossing an expanse of concrete paving, discarding items from the woman’s purse as he went. Finally he dropped the bag itself, but held on to a bright pink pocket book. He ran toward a set of steps leading down to the road at the back of the Royal Festival Hall. She couldn’t let him reach the road. There were too many escape routes at street level.
She lengthened her stride, for a split second enjoying the lactic burn in her quads. He was only a dozen or so yards ahead now. Three yards out she lurched forward and snatched at his jacket, managing to catch the hem in a fist. The sudden jerking movement forced the pink wallet from his hand and it flew into the air. Ingrid pulled up sharp and yanked hard on his jacket, then attempted to reel him in. When his head was only inches from hers, her cell phone started buzzing again. She couldn’t ignore it again. Distracted for a moment, she didn’t see the perp wriggle free of the constrains of his coat until he had slipped right out of her hands.
He glanced at her, eyed the pocketbook on the ground, hesitated a moment longer, then flung himself toward the metal stairway. When he reached it he stopped, turned and gave Ingrid the finger before running down the steps.
Ingrid had to resist the temptation to follow him. Right now she had more important things to attend to. She snatched the cell phone from its pouch. “Agent Skyberg.”
“You took your time.”
“I’ve been making the streets safer for the good citizens of London.”
Almost
.
She stooped down and snatched the wallet from the ground and then retraced her steps, gathering items as she went, a treasure trail of the content of every woman’s purse. She pulled up short at the packet of condoms. Ingrid supposed it was always best to be prepared. Even at eight a.m. on a Monday morning. “What’s up, Sol?” She wondered briefly why the assistant to the deputy section chief was calling her himself.
Sol Franklin, Ingrid’s boss, cleared his throat. Then started to cough. Ingrid had to pull the phone from her ear while she waited for him to compose himself. Finally there was silence at the other end. Either the assistant deputy had choked to death or he was quietly wiping the tears from his eyes.
“Sol?”
She heard a deep inhale. “Deputy Chief Louden has personally requested you deal with this case urgently.”
Louden?
“Get yourself down to St Pancras Hotel—in King’s Cross. The… ah…
victim
is waiting for you there.”
***
Grab a copy of
Fresh Doubt
from Amazon here
:
http://smarturl.it/freshdoubt
EVA’S BOOKS
INGRID SKYBERG FBI THRILLERS
Run Girl - Prequel novella
In Europe to help broker a peace deal between warring African nations, Secretary of State Jayne Whitticker is in the middle of delicate negotiations when her favourite grandchild disappears from Paris.
Special Agent Ingrid Skyberg is hauled out of her FBI training session at Scotland Yard to head the hunt for the 18-year-old girl, who the FBI believe is now in London. Will she succeed in her unexpected mission? Or will her failure lead to the collapse of the crucial peace talks?
Download from Amazon by clicking here:
http://smarturl.it/rungirl
Fresh Doubt - Book One
A story of lies, secrets and deadly mind games. Brilliant American psychology student, Madison Faber is in police custody - a potential murder suspect. Two hours ago she found her roommate lying in a pool of blood. Only American Embassy FBI agent Ingrid Skyberg can save her.
Download from Amazon by clicking here:
http://smarturl.it/freshdoubt
Kill Plan - Book Two
An American trader is found fatally poisoned in his office in the City of London. Two days later, a Latvian immigrant is discovered floating face down in the River Thames, brutally murdered.
In the course of investigating these two murders, Special Agent Ingrid Skyberg puts her own safety at greater risk than she ever has before. The problem is, she doesn't even know just how much danger she's in.
Download from Amazon by clicking here:
http://smarturl.it/skyberg2
Skyberg Files
Three short stories written especially for Ingrid Skyberg fans.
SPOILER ALERT: Should only be read after reading book 1 and book 2.
Download from Amazon by clicking here:
http://smarturl.it/skybergfiles
ANGELA TATE INVESTIGATIONS
The Loyal Servant - Book One
Winner of the Lucy Cavendish Prize for fiction,
The Loyal Servant
is a whistleblower thriller that topped the Amazon political fiction chart. Investigative reporter Angela Tate investigates scandal and corruption in the corridors of power.
Download from Amazon by clicking here:
http://smarturl.it/loyalservant
The Third Estate - Book Two
Thirty-three years ago two little girls disappear. Today, the man convicted of murder three decades ago is back on the streets as another girl vanishes. Angela Tate covered the first disappearances and is dragged into discovering the terrible truth behind the latest.
Download from Amazon by clicking here:
http://smarturl.it/thirdestate
STANDALONE BOOKS
The Senior Moment
Featuring one of the characters from
The Loyal Servant
as its heroine,
The Senior Moment
follows the adventures of a sixty-five-year-old grandmother alone in New York as she tries to track down her missing son and his pregnant wife.
Download from Amazon by clicking here:
http://smarturl.it/seniormoment
About the author
Eva was born and raised in London. She's been a local government worker, web editor, dot com entrepreneur, portrait artist and singer. She wrote her first novel in 2005 and has never looked back.
In 2011 Eva won the inaugural Lucy Cavendish Prize for Fiction for her first published novel,
The Loyal Servant.
The book was also shortlisted for TV’s People’s Novelist Award. Eva lives in Sussex and London, and loves to spend time in the US.
You can catch up with Eva on her website:
evahudson.com
, on Twitter:
https://twitter.com/Eva_Hudson
and Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/evahudsoncrimewriter
RUN GIRL
EVA HUDSON
First published 2014 by Two Pies Press
Version 1.01
Copyright © 2014 Eva Hudson
Eva Hudson has asserted her right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
This book is a work of fiction and, except in the case of historical fact, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without prior permission of the copyright owner.
