Hopefully they were all inside, ready and waiting for the three thieves. Nevertheless, Archer felt extremely uneasy. He couldn’t back out now. He’d been trying Gerrard all night on the cell phone but he still wasn’t picking up. Archer had spent the last twenty four hours high up in his hotel room deciding whether to go through with this, his phone in one hand, the 9mm Sig in the other. He’d been up most of the night thinking about it. Anyone thinking clearly and sensibly would jump ship in a heartbeat. But he’d decided yes. Farrell knew who killed his father. Archer needed to stay close to him to find out who did it. And he owed it to Gerry to take down the thieves. They’d come too far. He couldn’t pull the rug from under him now. If he’s even still alive. Looking down the street ahead, he took a deep breath and reasoned with himself.
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