Return Fire (Sam Archer ) Read Free Page A

but no new messages.
    He clicked onto the missed calls to see if they’d been from Vargas, but they were from Josh.
    Shit.
    Looking down at the phone, he suddenly focused on the present and frowned.
    Josh’s missed calls had come less than half an hour ago.
    Glancing at the time on the screen, Archer saw it was 2:32 am, not to mention the fact that the team were on leave for the week.
    What the hell is he doing calling me at 2 in the morning?
    Confused, he started to scroll for his partner’s number. Maybe he’d pocket-called him by accident, or had had too much to drink.
    But before he could find the number, Archer suddenly heard something through the balcony glass.
    Three quick knocks on his front door.
     
    He froze.
    The raps were slightly muffled through the glass of the closed balcony door but still carried an unmistakeable urgency.
    Rising quickly from the wicker chair and sliding the balcony door back, Archer moved rapidly across the apartment, past the front door and towards his bedroom. Opening his bedside table, he retrieved his Sig Sauer P226 pistol, checking the chamber by pulling back the top-slide half an inch and seeing a round resting there in the pipe. It was the middle of the night, not the time people typically came calling, and Archer had learned the hard way to always to be on his guard.
    The three knocks came again, quiet but urgent, and louder now Archer was inside the apartment. He moved forward, keeping the Sig by his right leg just in case the child in the bedroom had woken up and was watching him.
    Passing her door, he glanced in and saw she was still asleep.
    He walked up to the front door, then flattened himself against the wall and turned his head towards the frame.
    ‘Who is it?’ he asked quietly.
    ‘ Josh.’
    Instantly relaxing and shaking his head as he exhaled, Archer opened the door and saw his NYPD Counter-Terrorism Bureau partner standing there. Thirty years old, African American, happily married and a father of three, Josh Blake was a unique mix, built like a tank yet with a calm and gentle temperament, totally unexpected from someone of his intimidating size. He also lived in Manhattan on the Upper West Side, which meant he was a long way from home, especially at this hour.
    Dressed in jeans and a grey t shirt that couldn’t have been smaller than an XL, he had a look of urgency on his face which Archer immediately noticed.
    ‘Jesus Christ, you almost gave me a heart attack,’ Archer whispered so the girl wouldn’t wake up.
    He pulled the door back so his NYPD partner could come in.
    ‘What’s wrong?’
    ‘I’ve been trying to call you,’ Josh replied quietly, stepping into the apartment.
    ‘I just saw,’ Archer said, pushing the door closed and locking it. ‘Why?’
    Josh paused. Glancing over Archer’s shoulder at the open door of the little girl’s bedroom, he motioned for his partner to follow him.
    The two men moved across the sitting room and Josh drew back the balcony door, Archer joining him and still carrying his pistol as Josh pulled the panel shut behind them.
    ‘What’s going on?’ Archer asked, the two men standing face to face and talking normally now they were out of earshot.
    Josh hesitated for a moment. ‘It’s Vargas, Arch.’
    Still holding the S ig, Archer immediately tensed. Josh looked him in the eye.
    ‘Something’s happened.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘She’s gone missing.’

 
    THREE
    Twenty minutes later, Archer gave Vargas’ daughter a final hug and left her with Josh’s wife Michelle at their home over on the Upper West Side in Manhattan. Pulling the front door shut quietly behind him and joining Josh on the front step, the two men strode towards the Counter-Terrorism Bureau Ford 4x4 parked by the sidewalk.
    The smile Archer had forced when he’d said goodbye to the girl disappeared the instant he’d closed the front door.
    After Josh had told him why he’d stopped by, Archer hadn’t wasted a second asking for details, knowing