Return Fire (Sam Archer ) (4 page)

SEVEN

The British Airways Boeing 747 left New Y
ork right on schedule at 6:20am. Located towards the front of the plane, the Club Class seating was separated into spacious pods, positioned in pairs with screens between the seats to afford some privacy.

Archer and Josh were in a pair of seats on the left of the cabin, Marquez and Shepherd in the middle of the cabin with an aisle either side. Despite what lay ahead and the fact that they were flying into daylight hours, Josh and Marquez managed to doze off early in the journey, their bodies making up for the sleep they’d missed during the night. Beside the sleeping Marquez, Shepherd was hard at work, studying Stanovich and Payan’s files whilst taking occasional sips of strong coffee, figuring out a plan of action when they arrived in London.

In his seat by the window in the pod beside Josh, Archer was also awake, looking through the small gap in the blind at the white clouds and Atlantic Ocean far below. Now they were in the air, time seemed to have slowed right down. Seeing as they were flying into a different time-zone, the flight was due to land at 6:15pm UK time which meant they’d have lost half a day, twelve more hours to move a kidnapped woman whose current location was still a mystery. Although he knew worrying about it wouldn’t do anything to help their situation, he felt that radius of where Vargas could be widening every second.

Twelve hours.

Shit.

By the time they landed, she could be almost anywhere.

Feeling restless, Archer unclipped his seatbelt and rose, walking down the cabin towards the partition between Club Class and Premium Economy. The curtains on both aisles had been drawn across, allowing passengers some further privacy, and a stewardess was standing in the space between, placing several stubby cans of Heineken onto a tray from a compartment and tucking plastic glasses on top.

She smiled when she saw Archer, her uniform as pristine as her make-up.

‘Can I get you something, sir?’

He shook his head, forcing a smile in return. Continuing with her work she pushed the compartment closed and moved down the cabin with the drinks, disappearing down the aisle on the opposite side.

Turning, Archer stood with his back to the curtain and folded his arms, watching the cabin in front of him. Including Josh and Marquez, three or four other people were asleep, another absorbed in a movie, two others working on laptops. Despite how anxious he felt, he was reassured that his colleagues were here with him; he thought back two years to another plane journey, that occasion flying in the opposite direction from London to New York. Someone had killed his father and he’d spent a dangerous week tracking that son of a bitch down; although he’d had a degree of assistance he sure could have used Shepherd’s, Josh’s and Marquez’ help back then too.

The plane suddenly shuddered as they hit a brief patch of turbulence, the movement waking Marquez, who stirred. As she opened her eyes, came to and stretched, she noticed Archer standing further down the cabin and smiled. After a quickly-stifled yawn and smoothing down her hair, she unclipped her seatbelt, rose to her feet and walked down the aisle to join him, getting some blood flowing through her legs.

‘Can’t sleep?’ she asked, the two of them standing near one of the main exit doors of the plane.

‘Not right now.’

She paused for a moment, working her ankles. ‘How are the dreams?’

He looked over at her, surprised. He hadn’t slept for a second, so she couldn’t have seen or heard him struggling with nightmares.

‘Vargas told me,’ Marquez added, seeing the look on his face.

‘Yeah. They’re still there.’

‘What happens in them?’

He thought for a moment. ‘I’m stuck somewhere. There’s no way out. I know something is coming to kill me, but I can’t move, like I’m caught in treacle. It’s coming closer and closer, but I’m trapped. I’m thrashing and shouting, but there’s nothing I can do. Then it goes black.’

Marquez watched him closely and he forced a smile.

‘Gee, I wonder what that stems from,’ he said.

There was a pause.

‘Two weeks ago I tried to go up the Empire State with Vargas and her daughter but I couldn’t even get into the lift. I’ve never headed towards an exit so fast. It’s been four months since that night and it still freaks me out when I have to enter a tall building.’

He shook his head.

‘Bit of a handicap in New York, right?’

‘Don’t beat yourself up,’ she said. ‘That was one hell of an ordeal you guys went through. To bounce straight back from that into an everyday routine was never going to be easy. It’ll get better in time.’

She paused.

‘And everyone’s afraid of something. It isn’t sensible, or rational, it’s just what it is. Fear’s nothing to be ashamed of. It doesn’t make you a coward; it’s what makes you human.’

Standing beside him, she looked down the cabin and smiled, nodding at Josh.

‘He’s terrified of spiders,’ she said, looking at Archer’s partner who was fast asleep, his large frame almost overflowing the seat in the pod. ‘Put him up against big dangerous suspects resisting arrest and he won’t even breathe heavy. But tell him there’s a spider anywhere near him and you watch him jump around like a schoolgirl on Halloween.’

Archer glanced at her and grinned
. ‘Are you serious? I never knew.’

‘He keeps it quiet. You know what some of the guys are like in the Bureau; he’d be finding spiders everywhere.’

Still smiling, Archer turned his attention to Shepherd, who was awake and studying Stanovich and Payan’s files, lost in concentration with his back to them.

‘I can’t imagine much frightens Shep,’ he said, lowering his voice even though it was unlikely he’d hear over the noise of the aircraft.

‘Horses.’

‘What?’

‘Horses, I swear to God. I took a call with him once to Central Park and discovered that little secret when a series of horse-drawn carriages rolled by.’

This time Archer laughed. ‘Where the hell does that come from?’

‘God only knows.’

‘So what are you afraid of?’ he asked her.

She didn’t reply. Turning, he watched her smile fade.

‘Hospitals.’

Archer paused.

‘Why?’ he eventually asked.

She thought for
a moment, then forced a smile.

‘That’s a story for another day.’

Standing beside her, Archer didn’t push it, feeling guilty that he’d stirred a memory in her that clearly made her uncomfortable. He glanced at his fellow detective and close friend; Marquez was a tough, guarded woman and there was a lot about her he didn’t know.

He treasured his own privacy but she valued hers like solid gold.

‘What’s the most afraid you’ve ever been?’ he asked quietly.

She paused, considering
it. ‘Four months ago. Had a gun pulled on me from behind. Thought that was it.’ She nodded at Josh again. ‘Thankfully he showed up just in time.’

‘He has a habit of doing that.’

‘What about you?’

‘When I was a kid,’ Archer said. ‘Eight years old.’

She tilted her head, surprised. ‘Not something from when you were a cop?’

‘This was way worse.’

‘What happened?’

‘I was with one of my friends in a park in London, goofing around on a Sunday. His older brother had told him about a trick the night before that we thought was cool. Mix some strips of aluminium foil with bleach, seal a bottle and shake it and you’ve got a home-made cracker bomb.’

He paused.

‘We were going to try it out there in the park. Apparently there was about a ten second gap between shaking the bleach before it reacted with the foil and went off, so we shook it up, left it on the grass and took off for cover to watch.’

He shook his head.

‘But the groundsman saw us do it and ran over. We tried shouting at him to stop but he kept coming closer, walking right up towards the bottle. I stepped out from where we were hiding and started running towards him but it was too late. The bleach blew up right in front of him.’

He paused.

‘I’ll never forget running over and seeing him just lying there, burning chemicals all over his face and arms. My friend ran for help. When an ambulance came they took the man to intensive care. It was touch and go whether he was going to make it, and I stayed there all night with my mother waiting for the man to wake up.’

He exhaled, taken back twenty years.

‘Longest night of my life. Every second, I thought that nurse was going to reappear telling us that he died.’

‘Did he make it?’ she asked.

Archer nodded. ‘He pulled through.’

‘What happened to him?’

‘I don’t know.’

He paused, lost in thought.

‘That was the most afraid I’ve ever been. Well, until today I guess.’

‘We’ll find her.’

‘If she’s still alive.’

‘Hey; don’t even think that. Not for a second. She’s a fighter, Arch. She’ll hang in there. And last time you were dealing with it all on your own.’

She motioned to herself then Josh and Shepherd.

‘This time you have us. And we’re not going anywhere until we get her back.’

Anot
her period of silence followed. Then Marquez checked her watch.

‘We’re landing in an hour. I need to fill out the immigration card.’

Beside them, a wicker basket had been left on top of the counter to their right, some sandwiches in packaging and muffins wrapped in plastic resting in the centre. Taking a sandwich, she passed it to him.

‘Eat something. You’re gonna need the fuel.’

‘I had breakfast.’

‘No, you didn’t.’

He smiled as Marquez waited, undeterred. Then he took the food.

‘What wo
uld I do without you?’

‘Get trapped in a building with a load of people trying to kill you,’ she said. ‘Probably.’

Squeezing his arm, she walked away back down the aisle to her seat, pulling a pen from her pocket.

Hospitals,
he heard her voice echo in his head as he watched her go.

*

They landed right on time at Heathrow, 6:15pm UK time, the English weather outside the window similar to that back in New York, bright and warm with the early evening sun casting a golden glow over the airfield as they touched down. Once they taxied into Terminal Five and the pilot thanked the passengers over the intercom for flying with the airline, the four NYPD detectives unclipped their seatbelts, grabbed their hand luggage and then made their way off the Boeing jet, quickly heading towards Immigration.

Given Archer’s dual nationality, he was through to the other side
swiftly and waited for the other three to pass through the Non-UK and EU nationals aisles and join him. They did so before the main queues had really started to form behind them, another benefit of a seat further up the plane, and as the trio joined up with him he saw the focus on each face, matching his own.

Now through Border Control, the group navigated their way towards an automated exit that led into the large glass Arrivals Hall of Heathrow Terminal Five. As they walked through the double doors, they saw a line of eager people behind a long barrier to their left, some family members waiting for loved ones, business people waiting for colleagues and chauffeurs holding up signs for clients.

Then, to his surprise, Archer saw two people he recognised. They were standing in the middle of the hall, both looking up at the flight board, Danny White, aka Chalky, and Ryan Fox, members of the ARU’s First Team and two of Archer’s closest friends.

Chalky was Archer’s age, twenty eight, and although a similar build to his best friend he possessed very different colouring, with brown eyes and dark hair. As it was summer he was tanned, making him look almost Mediterranean and a real contrast to Fox beside him, who was five years older, had sandy blond hair and was whippier, almost a physical representation of his animal name-sake. Both men were naturally light-hearted and always good company, but they were also as tough as nails. Each had taken bullets for the Unit before, and although he’d absorbed a huge amount of punishment in the last several years Archer had never been shot, so in that regard both old friends had something on him which they never failed to remind him.

Archer saw they were both dressed in jeans and a navy blue polo shirt with the ARU logo in white on the left side of the chest, police uniform but not their tactical gear. Each also had his sidearm, a Glock 17 in a holster on his hip, which meant they must have cleared their presence with the Heathrow police before they entered the building. Turning, Chalky suddenly saw the NYPD quartet and hit Fox on the shoulder, who popped a last piece of a chocolate bar into his mouth and swivelled to face the approaching four detectives, stuffing the wrapper into his pocket.

Archer took the lead and the two groups met up beneath an Arrivals board.

‘Look who’s back,’ Chalky said, giving Archer a bear hug. ‘Twelve months on and still so damn ugly.’