That isn't exactly true. I've kept him under surveillance since we identified him after Hope made the first sketch. From what we hear and see, he's running scared since the shootout in Georgia." So? How does he know about that?" He's a fucking diplomat, and we both know he's involved with the slavers. I just don't know exactly how. You can bet your ass that Hope was soon to be kidnapped. If the money deal hadn't gone through, I think they would have just taken her. That goes along with what Art got out of the meeting, too. But I think she was destined for the politician – at least for a while. Maybe until he tired of her, then who knows? Maybe out of the country, or an overdose to kill her." And he'll skip on this, won't he? His government will pull him out of the country, no matter what he's charged with. We're back to square one, General. And ... my wives are pushing me to marry Hope. I can't let what he's done to her go unanswered." Never said you should, and you know it, Colonel.. Her skin was pale white in the fluorescent lights, dark brown hair falling in waves around her shoulders, a wisp of it curling up onto her cheek. Her shadowed eyes were darkened by her slacking posture, hunched over her novel, but her face was clearly beautifully shaped nonetheless. Her sculpted brow was knitted in concentration and she almost glared at the words in her hands, oblivious to myself and the rest of the world around her. She was clearly all woman, though, each curve of her trim body hugged tightly by very fitting clothes. Ass perched on the oak counter top with legs crossed and hanging down in front of her, the short skirt she wore was clinging in all the right places, exposing the smooth creamy color of her legs. And that shade of blue on her breasts was… fuuuuck. That blouse was made of sin. As she went to turn a page, she brought a finger to her mouth to lick it, her pink tongue flicking against the tip quickly before she reached back to turn it. That was a terrible.
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