Silent Night - By Tom Barber Page 0,8

Bureau avoided him as a consequence.

But he had a special dislike for Archer. It had been evident from the minute Archer had walked in five months ago. Given his background, he’d been expecting some heat and initial opposition to his inclusion in the Bureau, despite the fact that his father had been NYPD. He hadn’t been disappointed. But Jorgensen in particular really hated him, so much so that it had taken Archer by surprise, although he could guess the reason. Archer knew that close to a thousand cops had applied for positions in the Counter Terrorism Bureau after its inception. Josh had told him over a beer that Jorgensen’s best friend, an old team mate at Rutgers, had applied for one of the spots but had just missed the final cut. Judging from his attitude, Archer guessed that Jorgensen felt his friend would have been a more valuable addition to the team than him. He met the big detective's glare across the table and stared straight back, not intimidated in the slightest. Archer just thanked God that the two of them hadn’t been assigned as partners. That would have been awkward.

Sitting beside Jorgensen was 3 Grade Detective Lisa Marquez. She was an entirely different case from him altogether. The only woman in the team, she was also one of the most natural detectives Archer had met, on both sides of the Atlantic. Born in the Bronx and just turned thirty two years old, Marquez was a great mix of Latina passion and incisive thinking. Although she was only five six and about a hundred and thirty pounds, she was just as tough as Jorgensen and didn’t take an ounce of his shit, which was just as well considering that the two of them were partners. She was perceptive and sharp; Archer had liked her from the moment they’d met. The feeling was mutual.

She looked across the table at him and nodded, giving a quick smile.

‘Morning, Archer,’ she said.

‘Morning.’

Just as Jorgensen was about to speak again, there was movement behind them at the door and the head of the team entered the room, Sergeant Matt Shepherd, dressed in a cream-coloured fleece and dark blue jeans. In his mid-thirties and with almost fifteen years of experience under his belt, Shepherd was one of those guys who would be just as comfortable in a gunfight in a crack den as he would be delivering a presentation to the senior heads of the Police Department in shirt and tie. Previously Josh’s sergeant at Midtown South, Shepherd had made the transfer to the Bureau with him. He was similar in build to Jorgensen, over six feet tall with a powerful frame, but that was where the similarities between the two men ended. Shepherd had a far more likeable demeanour and was also one hell of a leader.

The team had recently been forced to make do without him for a month. He’d returned two weeks ago from an unexpected leave of absence. No one knew why he'd been forced to take time off or where he'd gone, but once he’d returned they’d picked up straight away that things weren’t right. Usually an engaging and charismatic guy, Shepherd hadn’t smiled once since he’d returned to duty. He seemed distracted and slightly aloof. Everyone on the team was concerned, but no one had dared broach the subject with him. He’d talk when he was ready. And right now, he obviously wasn’t.

Stern-faced, he walked past the detectives to the head of the table, followed by a computer analyst named Rach. In her early thirties, with blonde hair and a kind but somewhat plain face, Rach worked with the team as their main analyst. She was diminutive and unassuming but was just as valuable as every other member of the team. Hollywood frequently portrayed their heroes working alone against seemingly insurmountable odds but the reality was very different. None of the detectives in the room could do their job without Rach’s assistance. Jorgensen might have outweighed her by a hundred pounds, but she was just as important as he was, perhaps even more so.

As she moved past Jorgensen and Marquez, taking a seat behind the computer terminal, Shepherd nodded at Archer to shut the door. The room was quiet, the only sounds coming from Rach as she started tapping away at the computer. Sitting back down, Archer took a mouthful of tea and watched the screen on the wall spark into life, the NYPD login page appearing and Rach quickly