in silence. Neither wanted to talk within earshot of the cabbie, so Archer took the chance to get a closer look and sense of the woman beside him.
She was a great combination, tough and feminine, long dark brown hair tied back in a ponytail and rich brown eyes. Her name was Eastern European, Croatian maybe, but her accent told him she was the product of an upbringing in the States. Not New York or New Jersey. She didn’t have the twang. He guessed somewhere else, like Chicago or Philly. She had the street-smarts of a city girl and the strength and resolve of her predecessors, folks who had most likely packed their meagre belongings and headed to the United States, for a new life sometime in the last century after World War II. He imagined she’d broken a few hearts in her time but figured she also took precisely zero shit from other guys at the Bureau who wanted to test her out. From here, he could smell her perfume and could see her tanned legs protruding from the black skirt of her work-suit. She was a scorcher, that was for sure. God had been in a very good mood when he made this woman.
As they moved through the mid-60 streets towards 59, Archer’s thoughts turned from Katic to Gerrard. He pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat and tried calling him yet again, but it rang straight through and went to voicemail.
This wasn’t good.
Everything Katic had told him could conceivably make sense, but it was so unlikely Gerry was the fall guy that Archer just couldn’t believe it. Gerry was a good man. He’d been caring and thoughtful to Archer the boy and had extended the same courtesy to him as a man, and had always been a good friend to James Archer. There were a number of reasons why he could not be picking up his phone, and not all of them were bad. If he was in D.C, stuck in meetings and debriefings, he wouldn’t have a chance to answer any calls. He’d be back tomorrow, and Archer figured he’d just have to make it through the night till he returned. Gerry would have an explanation and a solution for all this. It wasn’t his fault his bosses pulled him from the city tonight.
But he wasn’t picking up his phone.
And that didn't sit right.
This past week, Gerry had always answered his phone, usually by the third ring. Archer’s father had been duped by someone, and shot in the back of the head. Archer sent up a silent prayer that Gerry hadn’t suffered the same fate, and that someone wouldn’t suddenly find his body in a parking lot missing a head. Good men didn’t deserve to die like that. Especially not men like James Archer and Todd Gerrard.
They turned right and started heading along 59 towards Columbus Circle, the Park sliding past Katic’s window on the right. To the left were a series of absurdly expensive-looking buildings and hotels that ran all the way along the street. 59 was where the thoroughfare of Midtown offices ended and the wealth of Uptown Manhattan started. Archer didn’t want to think how much dinner and a night in a hotel in one of the places up here would cost. Probably more than a month’s salary for him.
To the right, the Park looked surprisingly foreboding. During the day, nothing was more pleasant than a stroll inside, but at night it looked like a place that no one would want to enter. He’d heard stories from the past when armed gangs would wait in the shadows to mug pedestrians, and there had been a fair amount of murders in there back when the city was a far rougher place to live. Archer looked at the Park move past the window, all shadows and darkness. He was going to be on the run all night, and if it came down to it, he figured he could always hide out in there.
But he’d make sure to get his Sig back from Katic first.
The car arrived at Columbus Circle and held at the red light. After a few moments, it flicked green and they moved around the circular roundabout from the left. Archer watched the water splash in the fountain below the marble statue of Christopher Columbus as they slid around him and headed up Broadway. They were seven blocks away, and the driver headed up Broadway towards the Upper West Side, past the