Chapter 28

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Los Angeles, California

23 Months Earlier

FINN FOLLOWED the admin into the office. Archer started to stand, but his phone rang, aborting the action. "Sorry," he apologized, more out of politeness than any real remorse. "I need to get this."

"Please, have a seat," the admin invited. She was an older woman with short, salt and pepper hair. Her appearance reminded Finn of the piano teacher who'd fostered him for about four months when he'd been in grade school. "I'll bring coffee in a moment." The woman indicated the gray pinstripe chairs near the desk before she left, closing the door soundlessly behind her.

Archer's office was one hell of a showplace, but Zo had given him a rundown on what to expect. The floor was white marble with gray veins running through it. The bookshelves and file drawers were behind smoked glass with lighting under the shelves. Near the windows, there was a chessboard with two chairs. The desk was hyper-modern with some molded white material giving it a space-age curve, but it had a wood top, and beyond it was an impressive view of downtown Los Angeles. The man turned his back to Finn, looking out at the city as he talked to whoever was on the phone.

Finn took the seat the admin had indicated, eyed a decanter of what appeared to be cognac on the round table between the pair of chairs, and shook his head. This job interview was off to a hell of a start.

Yeah. Job interview. He'd been pretty sure Zo had pressed and finagled until the Paladin League created a position for him. Archer taking a phone call reinforced Finn's opinion that no one was excited to see him turn up here. He'd thought about telling her no, that he wasn't interested in some made-up position, but he'd followed through on the off chance there was a real job. He couldn't sponge off Zo much longer.

The admin returned, placing a tray on the table. "How do you take your coffee, Mr. Rowland?" she asked quietly in deference to the phone call taking place a few feet away.

"Black is fine, thank you."

To Finn's relief, the cups weren't fine china but strong, sturdy, stoneware mugs in navy blue. The older woman poured him a cup, placed a napkin on the table, and set the mug beside him. She prepared a second mug with a splash of cream and brought it to Archer's desk before returning to him. "Can I get you anything else, sir?"

"I'm good. Thank you, ma'am."

She nodded, retrieved her tray, and left again.

As the phone call dragged on, Finn quietly sipped his coffee. Archer swiveled around, made a vaguely apologetic gesture, and snagged his mug.

Finn identified the language as French, but he wasn't familiar enough with it to pick out more than a word or two. Since he didn't know what the topic of conversation was, he focused on Archer instead. The man was younger than he'd expected, maybe a couple years older than Finn himself. His dark hair was cut short with a precision that suggested regular visits to his stylist, his cheekbones were sharp, and so was his chin. He was dressed casually in a black polo shirt and slacks, but the watch he wore cost as much as a car—Henri Silva had favored the same brand—and he had a bracelet beside it sporting two skulls with red-jeweled eyes. Charming.

Zo hadn't mentioned her boss's age or appearance, but she had cautioned Finn to keep his guard up, that Archer was a manipulative bastard who took any opening and exploited it. That fit a man who'd wear a skull bracelet.

"You have more patience than Zofia," Archer said when he finally finished his conversation. "She would have taken off and gone wandering around the building."

With a shrug, Finn declined to comment. Zo was impatient a lot of the time, but not always. He'd seen firsthand how diligent and methodical she'd been in Puerto Jardin when she'd searched for her friend.

He got to his feet as Archer rounded the desk. Zo's boss was a couple of inches shorter than Finn was, which put him at around six-two, and he moved like an athlete. "Archer," the man said as he offered his hand. No other name.

"Finn Rowland." They shook briefly.

Archer retreated to his desk and leaned a hip against it, crossing his arms over his chest. "I had you checked out," he said casually.

That wasn't a surprise. The question was how deep he'd been able to get before he'd hit one of the walls the US military had in place. Finn resumed his seat and dropped into character. Not Tom Finley, he was too brash for the situation, but someone as much into gamesmanship as Archer seemed to be. "Find anything interesting?"

"More than you'd expect."

"But not as much as you'd hoped for."

Archer gave nothing away, but Finn knew he'd gotten it right. The man was used to finding a lot more intel on the people he had investigated, but the military tightly locked down Special Forces records.

"Do you play chess, Mr. Rowland?" Zo's boss gestured toward the table.

The non-sequitur had him pausing for a fraction of a second before he recovered. "Sorry," Finn said, his tone similar to the one Archer had used earlier—polite but not remorseful. "I never learned how to play. Have you had a match with Zo?"

"I have. She doesn't last long before her attention wanders. I was hoping you'd be better competition."

More like Archer was hoping to use a match to pinpoint Finn's strengths and weaknesses, but he didn't call him on it. "Sorry," Finn apologized again.

There was a long silence, but it didn't bother him. He'd played head games before with men every bit as astute as Archer was. Men who were deadlier. Probably. Finn leaned back in his chair enough to be noticed, but not enough to look indolent, and let the quiet linger.

"Zofia trusts you," Archer said at long last, changing the subject.

"She has no reason not to." At least not anymore.

"She's told you what she does for the Paladin League, correct?"

Ah, they were getting down to the job part of the discussion. "She told me." Archer waited, but this time Finn knew he needed to fill in the quiet. "She travels to meet with antiquities brokers and purchases looted artifacts so the Paladin League can put them in museums. You're in charge of this covert arm of the organization."

For a moment, Archer stayed silent. "Did she explain to you how many artifacts are lost every year to looting and the shadow markets? Not that long ago, cuneiform tablets stolen from Iraq were being sold online. "

"To finance ISIS and other militant groups. I was aware of this before I met Zo."

"Of course," Archer said smoothly. "Someone who'd been a Green Beret would be well-versed in what terrorists are doing. Puerto Jardin is a hornet's nest of illegal artifact sales, and Zo is excellent at identifying whether or not the item is legitimate. She's even better at negotiating for a fair price."

"But?"

"But she cares more about saving the relics than she does about her own safety. The Paladin League can't afford to lose someone with her talent, and this is where you come in."

Finn inclined his head, indicating that he was listening.

"If you agree to work for us, you'd escort Zofia on her trips to South and Central America, and protect her."

There it was. "Why now? Zo has been part of the League for more than two years without a bodyguard."

"Because she'll allow you to accompany her. I tried to assign someone to watch over her in the past, and she managed to lose the person shortly after arriving in Puerto Jardin. She wasn't found until she arrived at the airport for the flight back to the States."

"And you think Zo would let me go with her because?"

Archer's lips curved up at the corners so slightly that it was nearly imperceptible. "Because I allowed Zofia to think she maneuvered me into creating a position for you."

Finn considered that. He had no problem believing the man had manipulated Zo. His loquita was savvy, and she was wary of her boss, but she also was a straight shooter who didn't appreciate subterfuge.

But he remained uncertain that she really did need him to watch out for her. "Zo's smart," he said. "She knows when to withdraw and regroup."

"Perhaps, but I've received reports from my contacts about the chances she's taken to protect an artifact. "

Finn remained skeptical, and the man opposite him picked up on it.

Uncrossing his arms, Archer planted his hands on either side of his hips. "You believe this job doesn't have real merit, correct?"

"Yes," Finn agreed.

"Why don't we do a trial period? You accompany Zo and watch her in action firsthand. We'll meet after a trip to Puerto Jardin and discuss then whether or not you think this job exists to make her happy, or if she does indeed need a keeper. Deal?"

Finn turned the offer over, looking for strings, but he didn't see anything that would trap him. "Deal," he agreed.

"Good." Archer stood, looking smug, and Finn wondered what he'd missed. "I'm assigning Zofia to recover a tumi knife looted from Peru that's being offered for sale by a broker in Puerto Jardin. It's gold with turquoise inlaid in the headdress and earlobes—worth a small fortune. You'll leave tomorrow after I meet with her."

Finn got to his feet. "You're returning it to Peru, correct?"

Archer looked vaguely insulted. "Of course. After the tumi is purchased, the two of you will fly from Rio Blanco to Lima. Zofia will meet with a Paladin League operative there who'll ensure it reaches the national museum. We're not thieves, Mr. Rowland. We are rescuers."