10
The Mexico Job
Philippe perched himself on the Chesterfield next to me, like it was some weird afternoon tea party; a coffee in one hand, a plate in another with a slice of cake. All terribly British.
Agent Danby shut the internal door to the living area of the apartment, shoving waking-up bodies out of the way and fastening the back-up security system, aka, the latch.
He joined the party on the opposing sofa, as Peter clicked a remote. A giant modern art painting slid upwards, revealing a large flatscreen, lighting up with a map of the world.
“We hoped you’d come after Lorna,” Peter said to Philippe. “Forgive us if we didn’t fancy snatching you off the street. We didn’t quite know who we were tracking. Our guess was that Lorna here would be easier.”
“Oh, none taken,” I said.
Pet
