Chapter Three
“I like men to behave like men—strong and childish.”
- Françoise Sagan
Archer
“Damn, damn, damn!” Archer cursed. “How the hell did this happen?” He slapped his hand on the stack of paper. “And how the hell are we going to get out of it?”
Daviel sat quietly, waiting for the storm to pass. “You know they’ll brain-scan you before they carry out your sentence. They’ll look for overconfidence, plans, that sort of thing.”
“Well, I sure as hell don’t feel overconfident about anything right now,” Archer said ruefully. “I’ve been mousetrapped about as well as anyone can be.” He looked meaningfully at his assistant. “I trust you.”
“I know,” smiled Daviel. “And, I’m afraid, you’ll have to trust me some more.”
Archer nodded, then exploded again. “Dammit, I hate trusting anybody!
