Pacing. Tension. Nerves. Dear God, man! Competitive blockbuster writing. A nail-biting chase to the end.
Its route? Short sentences. Rhetorical questions. Sexual tension. What can it all mean? Random italics. Interior monologue. Questions? So many questions? Dynamic verbs. Crossing of boundaries. Direct speech. There’s surely been a mistake!
‘Langdon opened his mouth to explain the bizarre error, but Sophie flashed him a silencing glance that lasted only an instant. Her green eyes sent a crystal-clear message.
Don’t ask questions. Just do it.
Bewildered, Langdon punched in the extension on the slip of paper: 454.
Sophie’s outgoing message immediately cut off, and Langdon heard an electronic voice announce in French: ‘You have one new message.’ Apparently, 454 was Sophie’s remote access code for picking up her messages while away from home.
I’m picking up this woman’s messages?
Langdon could hear the tape rewinding now. Finally, it stopped, and the machine began to play. Again, the voice on the line was Sophie’s.
‘Mr Langdon’, the message began in a fearful whisper. ‘Do not react to this message. Just listen calmly. You are in danger right now. Follow my directions very closely.’
Suspension. Exclamation. Superannuation. Only you can help us now! Laughing all the way to the bank.
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