The Agency: Vol 1 PRINT

Excerpt From: Flirting With Danger

Skye Adams knew first-hand that life was never easy when your dad was the equivalent of James Bond. She'd known this to some level from her very youngest days-though it wasn't until her late twenties that she understood the true nature of his work. Her only knowledge while growing up was that her daddy's work was 'important'.

She couldn't count the number of missed dance recitals, parent-teacher interviews or times someone else had had to drop her off home because she was the last one waiting to be picked up, seemingly forgotten by her father.

Lucy Adams, her mother, had died of cancer before Skye turned twelve. Skye knew her parents loved her very much, but that didn't help the overwhelming loneliness that marred the ten or so years after her mum's passing.

A chill of fear always shivered down her spine when she thought back to how she had almost passed by the one time her father had reached out to her for help. When the phone had rung at a little after two a.m., a bored-sounding operator had asked if she'd take an emergency, reverse charges call from Victor Adams who was at an unpronounceable hospital in Helsinki, Finland.

Skye's first thought as she'd run a hand through her shoulder length, brown curls had been that the call was an elaborate joke being pulled over her by a friend. Laughing, still half asleep, she had assured the operator that, sure, she'd take the call. Skye had expected a howl of laughter followed by some quick commentary and identification of the friend forthwith.

Instead, a very shaky, weak, male had spoken, then stopped to clear his throat. The undeniable tone of her father had come once again over the scratchy connection.

"Skye, can you hear me? Damn this abominable hospital phone to hell," her father had growled.

"Daddy?" she'd gasped, her warm blue eyes widening in the darkness of her bedroom as she shot bolt upright in her bed. She hadn't wanted to believe that the call was from Helsinki and from her father, but his voice was unmistakable.

"I've run into a minor problem, sweetheart," Victor had continued, pain evident in his every word. The very faint slurring had made Skye wonder what kind of painkillers they had given him, or possibly just how very much suffering he must have been enduring for his voice to sound so ragged. She'd never seen him so much as flinch before in her life.

Always her father's voice and manner soothed and calmed her every fear. Victor Adams had always been the strongest, most steadfast man of her acquaintance. Fear had clutched at Skye's heart, as to what could be going on, confusion had clouded her mind.

She'd reminded herself that, whatever happened, her father could handle it. Obviously something extreme had occurred and he'd turned to her for help. She needed to keep a grip on herself.

Skye had followed her dad's clipped, precise instructions to the letter and, in what had felt like both forever and no time at all, she had made it to his hospital room, his travel suitcase packed, assisting him to discharge himself.

Victor had been shot in the leg, beaten and abused. She'd overheard the nurses gossiping that he'd nearly died from the blood loss. The transfusion and her father's foreigner status as well as lurking police suspicion surrounding his true motivations for being in the country had convinced the doctors that the most stringent requirements regarding this man needed to be in place.

They would only release him to a family member.

His protégé and sometime partner, Garth Spenser, had also been present that evening when Skye had arrived. Tall, dark-haired, olive-skinned and with a neatly clipped beard, he sat in the corner of the room on the single chair and glowered at her as she'd tried to make sense of what her eyes told her. Garth had left, muttering something to Victor about 'giving you some space'.

The moment they'd had privacy she'd demanded a full explanation. The dislocated kneecap and evident beating around his face and upper body did not point to the vague 'financial broker' career he'd always talked about.

Her dad had finally told her the truth. He worked for an agency in the espionage industry for the United Kingdom.

Initially Skye hadn't been able to help but feel the story was preposterous, a fabrication for who knew what reasons. She had pressed him, annoyed by his seemingly frivolous attitude. All too soon, random dots she'd never thought twice about had connected, until Skye's eyes were opened to the full picture.

Her father was a spy.