Henri Beck & the Hidden Library | 📖

11

"Egypt." Thea nodded. "That can't be a coincidence."

"I agree," Callahan said. "But I still can't see why Arkangel would hire them to kidnap your parents. I mean, why not just work together to find this library?"

"Because my father didn't want to," Henri revealed. "An offer from Monet Delacroix was on the table, but he declined it."

The agent stroked his chin. "Right, right."

Henri shared a look with his sister. They sported the same skeptical look on their faces. Behind them, Malik found himself snooping through the agent's stack of magazines on a nearby coffee table.

"So, are you going to help us with this?" Thea asked.

Callahan popped his gum. "Help you with what exactly?"

"Rescuing our parents for starters." Thea squinted at the agent. "And maybe, oh I don't know, prosecute Arkangel for hiring mercenaries to kidnap people?"

"You don't even have proof it was them who hired Sergei."

Henri frowned. He had a point. This entire time, they'd been operating under the theory Monet Delacroix was involved. But what if she wasn't? Then what? And, even if she was, how were they to obtain enough evidence to legally go after her? The woman was the figurehead of an international company—he was willing to bet she knew enough to cover her tracks.

Beside him, Thea leaned forward in her seat. "Our parents were kidnapped by someone. That happened. They need to be rescued."

"Ma'am—"

"My name's Thea. Jeez, dude, I'm only twenty."

"Thea." Callahan pinched the bridge of his nose before letting out a tired sigh. "We don't even have any leads—"

"Have you not been listening this entire time? Or are you FBI agents just as useless as the rest of this country's law enforcement?"

Henri suppressed a grin. His sister's mouth was akin to a sawed-off shotgun at times. At least he wasn't on the other side of it this time.

"For someone who needs my help, you sure are disrespectful," the agent grumbled.

"I'd be more than happy to be proved wrong."

"Alright, alright." The man muttered something under his breath. "Look, as much as I look like the boss around here, I don't call the shots. My boss does. He'll want to hear about something like this before I can promise you anything. She's in a meeting right now, but I'll see if I can get a message to them."

"I don't think any of us thought you were the boss," Thea told him. Henri and Malik murmured in agreement.

"Aren't you a delight?" The special agent flashed her a sarcastic smile. "Look, just sit tight in here. I'll be back shortly. Also, I've got some spare clothes in that drawer over there. You guys look like a dumpster fire." He pointed at one of the drawers in his desk. Then he turned to Malik, who was now roaming around the room examining all the little knick-knacks Callahan had stashed about. "And, please, stop touching my stuff."

Malik held his hands up. "Sorry."

Rubbing his forehead and grumbling, Callahan slipped out of the room. The door to this office closed with a quiet click. The trio sat in silence for a few moments.

"Well..." Malik had picked up a snow globe from the agent's coffee table. "Do you think the guy can help?"

Henri sighed. "I hope so."

"Oh, he better. I'm not leaving here otherwise."

As much as he admired her determination, if they wanted her gone, she couldn't exactly stop them. All they could do now was wait and hope Agent Callahan came through. Until then, though, Henri decided to take a look at the spare clothes he mentioned earlier. To his dismay, it was nothing but FBI-branded sweats and t-shirts. Anything was better than what he currently had on. He reeked of smoke and sweat and looked like it too.