I'd Rather Be In Paris Read Online Free Page B

intelligence operative had ever done.
    The nickname had caught on like wildfire. Rubbing the spot on her neck where Dmitri's gun had been buried, she met Flynn's gaze. He was offering to put her back in the field. Send her back to Paris. Give her the chance to hunt down the man who still appeared in her nightmares. There was no need to call forth any of her personas. She answered him with the determined part of her true self. “I'm ready, sir."
    Stone closed the folder in front of him and toyed with his blue CIA coffee mug. “At this point, Zara, we're still speculating about Dmitri's plans. We have no real reason to doubt the French aren't doing everything they can to recapture both him and Vos Loo."
    Zara didn't miss Flynn's eye roll as Stone continued, “But as we've discussed, the scenario seems too coincidental to ignore. The situation is delicate and must be handled with care. I'm willing to put you back in Paris to see what you can find out, but with a partner. Someone with tracking skills and on-the-ground experience.” Stone shifted his gaze to Flynn. “Director?"
    Flynn rubbed his knuckles across his chin. “I suppose I could get away for a few days."
    Stone set his mug down with a hard thunk. “The Director of CIA Operations does not do fieldwork."
    Flynn winked at her from across the table. “Of course not.” He pushed back his chair and began gathering his files and Day Timer. “Come on, Tango. Let's go find you a partner."
    Zara grabbed her pen and notebook and hurried to follow Flynn out the door.
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Chapter Two
    Lawson shut the door of Director Flynn's office and nodded a greeting. “You paged me? Is Agent Morgan in danger from Dmitri?"
    Flynn motioned him to the chair across from his own behind a massive oak desk cluttered with papers. “Only if she does something asinine like the farmhouse incident."
    The farmhouse incident had been added to the never-ending war stories folks in the CIA loved to tell over and over again. Shortly after Lawson had returned to the States from Paris, the story had grown to epic proportions, much of the gossip warped. Today, when he'd heard Dmitri had beaten the French system, a knot had formed in his stomach. Zara Morgan was an obvious target. “I can't believe she did what she did."
    Flynn shrugged. “She saved Owens’ life. Gotta give her credit for that."
    "With respect, sir, my team saved Owens’ life and Zara's for that matter. She had no business leaving the tech van."
    "Not true.” The challenge in Flynn's voice was subtle but clear. “Contrary to popular belief, Zara is one of the CIA's brightest new operatives. She passed the Farm at the head of her class, and while she didn't have the right kind of experience to deal with Dmitri face-to-face when he pulled his stunt with Owens, she showed more guts and cunning than spies who've been in the field for years."
    "Still—"
    Flynn raised a finger to silence him. “I assure you, Commander, she can jump out of a helicopter with an M16 slung across her back as easily as you can and look more graceful doing it. She was a star ballerina in her younger life."
    A mental image of Zara with an M16 in her hands tested the bounds of Lawson's imagination. She was a fighter—he'd seen that when he rescued her—but she was hardly a seasoned soldier like the majority of spooks he worked with in the field. His mind found it much easier to imagine her dancing across a stage than taking out terrorists. “How did she go from tutus to machine guns?"
    "I believe it was Swan Lake ."
    "Excuse me?"
    "She was fourteen. Her partner didn't support her weight properly during a jump and she was injured. She never performed onstage again."
    While she had certainly attracted his attention, Lawson still couldn't figure out how an ex-ballerina had attracted the CIA's. “Surely you didn't recruit her for her dance skills."
    Flynn chuckled. “You might be surprised what I look for in a recruit and I wish I