Читать книгу John Doe on Her Doorstep - Debra Webb - Страница 8

Alexandria, Virginia

Weekend home of UN Secretary-General

Donald Thurlo

“Dammit.”

Donald Thurlo shuffled through the mound of papers on his desk again. A pool of golden light from the brass lamp spilled over the mass of now insignificant correspondence scattered on the mahogany surface. Where the hell was that letter? He needed the damned letter. It was his only protection.

He’d taken it from his wall safe only a few minutes ago. His brow furrowed in concentration. What had he done after that? He’d rushed upstairs to throw a few things into a bag. He glanced at the Louis Vuitton case waiting at his feet. His pulse quickened. He had to get the hell out of here.

But first he had to have that damned letter.

“Looking for this?”

Ice-cold fear surged anew through Thurlo’s veins. Slowly, he looked up from his desk.

Oh, God.

Too late.

With a pistol in his right hand, the stranger reached into the pocket of his leather jacket with his left and produced a folded piece of paper.

The letter.

Dammit.

Thurlo straightened and stared into the startling blue eyes of the assassin who’d been sent to silence him. “Why does it have to be this way?” he asked, his words trembling, fear coursing through him. “I could—”

“There’s nothing you can do now,” the man said in a deep, steady voice that proved more unnerving than if he’d screamed his response. “Goodbye, Mr. Secretary.”

Thurlo started to cry for mercy, but the bullet’s impact stunned him into silence….