"Well, this is great, just great," I muttered to myself. "So much for going to find her...whoever she is. Why did she even say that?" I shifted positions in the rope, which made it swing back and forth. I swallowed. Of all the bad luck, to be swinging in the air and prone to severe motion sickness...!
"Steph! Is that you?" The shrill, bossy voice rang in my ears and I recognized my half-sister greeting me incredulously. I glanced down to see her on the street, shading her eyes and squinting up at me.
"Uh, yeah, it's me," I said. "Got any Advil? My head hurts."
"You're dangling from a rope over Chicago." she groaned. "What about 'secret agent' don't you understand?" My peripheral vision caught her ominous hands-on-the-hip gesture.
"Look, Claire," I began, feeling the need to defend myself, "I don't know how I got here. Some girl knocked me out--"
"You mean that blonde chick who tried to follow us?"
"I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, next thing I knew I was here."
Claire clapped a hand to her forehead and groaned again. "I don't know why they even hired you. I'm the one who does all the work."
"Hey, I'm a good pickpocket! Remember the president?"