In a style much different than the polished, presentable look of their reception area and personal offices—areas to where those seeking the firm’s help had access—the “Conference Room” was actually set up to work as the team’s war room.
Directly behind him was a concrete wall that had been reinforced with state-of-the-art soundproofing panels. They’d all agreed on the extra expense as it gave them another layer of protection when discussing their confidential cases.
To Archer’s right was a solid brick wall. Since their team leader’s office was on the other side, the soundproofing wasn’t needed. If Logan had a client in his office when the others were in here, they simply held their conversations on the far side of the room.
The wall he was facing, as well as the one on his left, didn’t need the soundproofing, either. Made of brick and massive floor-to-ceiling windows, their black metal muntins dividing each one into several equal squares.
Thanks to the building’s angle and design, the views from both directions offered an expansive, panoramic snapshot of Elliot Bay.
Strategically placed within the wide-open space were six desks. Separated into pairs, each was butted up against its partner so the two teammates using them could face one another.
Archer looked to his left, toward an elevated, loft-like platform. That was where the real magic happened.
Arguably the most important area of the entire room, the high-tech space had been designed specifically with their technical analyst in mind. A massive L-shaped desk housed several monitors, three computers—each encrypted out the ass—and a slew of other electronic devices Archer couldn’t even begin to use.
Lucky for him—and their clients—he didn’t have to.
Give me a load of C4 or a tripwire any day.
Explosives. That’s where Archer’s passion lay. As a former SEAL, he’d had all the same specialized training as his teammates. Weapons, hand-to-hand…he’d even filled in as the team’s medic a few times back in the day. But his real expertise was blowing shit up.
Speaking of things blowing up…
He checked his watch and then looked at the door, wondering what the hell was taking everyone so long. Starting in that direction, he’d made it all of two steps when the telltale beeping of the security system alerted him that someone was about to enter.
“Hey, Nash.” Chase Boyer, the youngest member of Eagle’s Nest, was the first to join him. “What’s up? Hannah said you wanted to see us before we left for the day. You catch a big case or something?”
Or something.“It’s looking that way, yeah.” Archer gave the team’s lead sniper a nod.
“Cool.” Excitement laced the Texas native’s slight drawl.
Standing right at six feet, the brown-haired jokester was the most laid back member of the bunch. But put a TAC-338 sniper rifle in Chase’s hands, and the man was as deadly as his expert aim.
Another beep and Jason “Lucky” Lucas sauntered inside. “Okay, Arch. I’m here. But this better not be one of those could-have-been-an-email kind of meetings. I’ve got a date in an hour, and it’s one I donotwant to be late for.”
The clean-cut and chiseled man was a total player when it came to women. But as the team’s technical analyst, there wasn’t anyone Archer trusted more behind the keyboard.
“This the same gal you went out with a couple weeks ago?” Chase turned his turquoise eyes in Lucky’s direction.
“Nope. That was Mandy.” The other man scoffed as he made his way to one of the eight empty chairs around the table. “Can you believe she called me two days after our date—which went great, by the way—to say she’d gotten back together with her ex?”
“Ouch.” Chase’s scruff-covered face twisted with sympathy as he took the seat next to Lucky.
“Eh, it’s whatever. Just means I gotta keep looking for The One.”
“Isthatwhat you’ve been doing these last few months?” Logan Hayes was the next of the members to appear. “Sleeping your way through Seattle in search of the future Mrs. Lucas?”
The brainchild of Eagle’s Nest Securities, Logan had also been their SEAL Team leader back in the day. In fact, if it weren’t for Logan and his wife Natalie, there wouldn’t evenbean E.N.S.
And you’d still be flying charter planes for rich assholes and their twenty-something mistresses.
From over his shoulder, Lucky shot Logan a look. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t ya think?” He pulled out a wheeled chair and sat down at the table. “And sure I like to go clubbing now and then. But come on…it’s not like the woman of my dreams is going to magically appear on my doorstep.”
“I mean stranger thingshavehappened, I suppose.” Chase plopped down in the chair next to Lucky. “Guess we can’t all beas lucky as Hayes, here. But enough of that…” With a light push off his booted toe, the thirty-one-year-old swiveled the leather chair around to face Archer. “Okay, Nash. Spill it. What’s with the impromptu emergency meeting?”
Glancing back at the door, Archer was about to ask where the final member of the team was when Logan told him, “If you’re waiting for Van, he’s still out dealing with the system glitch at the Lambert estate. I can catch him up later, if you want to go ahead and fill the rest of us in on what you’ve got going on.”
Van’s real name was Donovan Braddock. Technically Van was the team’s medic, but the guy had many talents when it came to the kind of work they did.