Chapter 3: The Stolen Plans
Emma Storm was seething. How stupid could the American authorities be? She was on the same side as them, working against a common enemy, yet they’d locked her up in this cell in the New York headquarters of the FBI. Her clothes and personal possessions were on a side table, where a female agent had put them after strip-searching her. The woman had handcuffed Emma’s hands behind her back, then forced her to sit stark naked on a bare wooden chair.
Then the woman had left, presumably to tell her superiors that the prisoner was ready for interrogation. That gave Emma all the time she needed to wriggle out of the cuffs—a simple matter, given her MI6 training. It was a good thing the cuffs were behind her back, since anyone entering the room would have no idea she w
