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“And as a perpetually single married man, I can respect that — but you’re not going to catch the Harts all by yourself.”
“I only need to catch one.”
“Then, even your odds,” I say. “Help me get my wife back and I’ll help you track them down.”
His eyes bounce from my head to my toes. I cringe inside. I know exactly what’s going through his head right now because they’re the same thoughts the other soldiers in Fox and Caleb’s unit used to have years ago. Who is this chump? What use is he? Ditch him. He’s dead weight.
Finally, Archer takes another step closer, rolling his fingers into hard fists. “Get out of my way,” he says, his voice a deep growl.
I slide back, easing myself between him and the office door. “I can tell you where Dante is,” I say, drawing a twitch from his brow. “Their childhood home. They tried to wipe out any record of it, but they missed one. Odds are, that’s where you’ll find him.”
Archer darts closer. “Where?”
“You help me get my wife back and I’ll tell you.”
“Or…” He grabs my jacket with a tight grip, raising me an inch or two off the floor. “I could beat the hell out of you until you tell me.”
“For anything else that would probably be enough,” I admit, keeping his wild eyes centered, “but when it comes to this woman, rest assured that I will fuck you up.” I hold a hard, steady tone. “The Harts for my wife. That’s the deal.”
“All right,” he says with amusement. “Calm down, Sparky. You have my attention.” He loosens his flexed hands and lets go of me before taking a step back and reaching out to straighten my jacket down. “May I please see the security footage?”
I step to the side. “Knock yourself out.”
He passes around me into the office and I reach into my messenger bag for my laptop.
I officially have about sixty seconds to find out if this guy is who he says he is.
My ears perk, listening carefully to his every move behind the wall as I silently type his name into various databases.
I run a quick search through the Snake Eyes master file just in case. Thankfully, his name is nowhere on it — but then again, neither is Fox’s.
“Bloody hell—!”
I flinch and lower the laptop screen halfway. “What?”
“That’s your wife?”
My soul swells with pride. “Yes, it is.”
Archer’s head peeks around the door frame and he offers a slow nod of approval. “Not bad, mate.”
“Thank you.”
He slides back into the office and I hear the gentle whirring sound of the tape rewinding. I don’t blame him. I’d watch Caleb whack that bitch in the face over and over again if I weren’t too scared of her dying at any moment.
I tilt the laptop screen up again and watch the progress bar reach its end.
Archer Allen. Bounty hunter.
A damn good one, too.
Born in London. Former MI-6 agent. Dismissed from duty about five years ago but those records are sealed tight.
For the most part, he’s legit with the small exception of him being in the country on an expired visa.
I close the program as his feet come tapping back into the shop. He passes around the counter and his blue eyes scan the floors and walls for clues again.
“See anything?” I ask him.
