Archer sat down in the chair, a coiled viper ready to strike at the slightest provocation. He didn’t want to be here. In this office. Not now. Not when Femmerelle was out there somewhere, needing him. In trouble.
The Director Adjunct tapped his fingers on his temple. “You had us fooled, Archer,” he growled. “You almost slipped it right under our noses.”
“The closer to your nose, the farther from your eyes,” Archer said dryly.
“Indeed,” replied The Director Adjunct.
Then The Director Adjunct smiled. The smile caught Archer off guard. It was a wide smile, showing a lot of pearly whites. Not a smile of mirth. The smile of a predator. Archer had seen that smile once before. Seven years ago, to be precise. Back then, things were easier. Decisions were made without two eyes looking backward. Now that smile had returned. Archer suddenly realized that maybe The Director Adjunct knew something he didn’t.
No matter. Archer knew how to learn information. It was the easiest thing in the world, when you knew what you need to know to know it.
