Lance touched his own ear. “Mr. Ahmad is in the lobby. He’s coming up.”
Archer nodded and looked at her. “Ready?” Zoe nodded jerkily. The tension was about to make her break into pieces, but if he believed she was anxious due to the meeting, that was for the best.
For a long moment he faced her, and she worried he would ask her to back out. Instead he nodded and walked out. As she replaced her headset, her cell buzzed.
“Zoe? You can hear me OK?”
On the screens, she saw Archer walking the different sections. It took all her strength to answer with a steady voice. “Yes, loud and clear.”
Lance said something she didn’t hear, and Zoe looked at her phone. It was a picture and text message. The picture was one of Lucas at a baseball game. The message was to the point.
Stay on standby. You will know your assignment in a few minutes. You know the stakes.
“Zoe? Do you hear me?”
“Yes, sorry. You have my attention.” Which was a total lie, but she couldn’t falter now. On the screen, Lance and Archer looked around and for a moment, Archer stared at one camera in particular, as if conveying a message. But it was Lance who broke the moment.
“Zoe, your door is locked, keep it that way. Mr. Blackwood, Jones, and I are the only one who can come in, so don’t worry.”
A statement that was supposed to reassure her only spiked her stress levels more, especially not knowing what Finch required of her.
Exhaling a shuddering breath, she looked at the screen as Lance and Archer were standing by the door.
“Everything will be alright, Zoe. Breathe.”
Shit! He must have heard her doing just that. And at his obvious concern, a tight ball formed in her throat preventing her from answering. But it wasn’t necessary as Kareem Ahmad and his entourage entered the living room.
The men exchanged cordial greetings and went to the lounge area. Kai and Lance were on screen, waiting by the door with two huge men she assumed were Ahmad’s bodyguards.
The first hour was mostly a general conversation about the city and done in English. It was incredible to see Archer confronting those men all on his own. She expected advisors and strategists with him, but he was a one-man army, unshakable and eerily confident. That was his calculating, cold persona, an alpha predator and he knew it.
Once they all ran out of niceties, they moved to the conference table. It took a moment for Zoe to find the perfect mic combination as sound reverberated over the glass in the immense room. Once she found it, the quality made her able to even hear whispers.
And as if on cue, as Ahmad was talking to Archer, two of his advisors started whispering.
She immediately relayed the information. Her voice remained low. So as not to startle him, and so she could continue hearing what the two men said. A third one scribbled a note on a piece of paper, and Zoe was fortunate enough to decipher it before it disappeared from the screen. Again, she told Archer who seamlessly redirected the meeting with this new bit of information.
Not once did he signal her, and Zoe fell into a reassuring comfort zone. This had been her work for many years, and relying on her experience, letting it take over her nerves, was a godsend.
Halfway through the morning schedule, Archer proposed a break and all the men agreed. As if on cue, two waitresses came in, carrying trays and started setting up on the outside terrace.
Her phone buzzed with an incoming call. Unknown ID. Immediately, she muted her microphone. “Hello?”
“If your control freak boss is on time, it should be time for the break.” Finch’s voice made her skin crawl. “Listen. The bodyguards won’t stray far away from their masters, giving you the perfect opening.”
“Opening for what?” The question terrified her, but she was damned if she would let him know.
“I need you to get to Ahmad’s phone and send me his contact list. All of it.”
Zoe gasped at what it implied. “Mr. Ahmad won’t certainly leave his phone behind.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. He trusts his security system more than anything else. It doesn’t even bother him to lose it! That’s the kind of fool I like.”
“I’m not a hacker!”
“No, my dear. His phone is not even locked. Inside, everything is written in an old tribal dialect, the one his grandmother speaks. Over and over again, we’ve tried to find an interpreter, but it’s been no use. You will do this little task for me. Get the phone, find the contact list and transfer it to the number I give you. Understood?”
She hesitated a second and he immediately jumped on her like the hyena he was. “You know the penalty for not doing what I say or hinting your intentions to your little friends. I won’t warn you another time, Miss Somersby.” And he hung up. One second later, a phone number appeared in a new text message.
