In all my 200 years on this godforsaken Earth, this had to have been the worst foie gras I’d ever had. Of course my opinion didn’t count for much here, the Americans loved it, and most of these people would probably never even leave this country, let alone try real French food. Still, the wine at least made it tolerable.

Not that I was in this tourist trap for the food of course, I was here to meet a fellow Seraph, who predictably was already past late. I raised my phone, twenty minutes late, impressive. It always amazed me how little regard others had for their time in this life.

As long as I was being kept waiting, I figured I might as well make some calls.

“Office of Ms. Lawson how can I help you.” I hear the familiar voice of my secretary, Holly. “Julia Lawson” was my fourth “cover” identity. I was the “senior communications investor” for Hammurabi International, which was itself a bull**** identity. Basically an excuse for me to poke my nose into anything I needed to.

“Hey, it’s me, have you heard anything from that detective in Virginia Beach?”

“Oh I did hear from him actually.” Holly said “I’m sorry but apparently he wasn’t able to find anything. Would you like me to get another one?” Holly was a pleasant young lady, always showed up on time, handled my paperwork without a fuss, and most importantly, never asked any questions.

As she said that I saw the man, Bartholomew, finally walk in. I didn’t even bother hiding my rolling eyes. I should have dragged out the conversation and made him wait, but I actually valued my time and wanted to get out of here. “No, that’s fine. Thank you Holly, I’ll be back at the office in the morning.” I hung up the phone. “I was just about to leave.”

“Don’t be mad, I had a uh… business opportunity on the way here.” He said. As much as he annoyed me at times, including this one, I couldn’t deny he was an attractive man, dashing in the way a lot of British pretty boys were, tall, strong chin, yellow eyes, and long blonde hair which in contrast to my violet hair, was easier to blend in with. “So how’d you do it? The Archer merger, couldn’t have been easy, those guys did not want to give it up, even for the most generous offer."

“I did what I usually do when people don’t cooporate.”

“Oh, of course. So what’d you put in that poor bastard’s head? Actually maybe I don’t want to know. I still get chills from what you did to that last guy.”

“Maybe next time you’re late I’ll take a visit inside your head.”

“Okay I get it, I’ll try to be more punctual next time.” He leaned back on his seat.

“I’m just saying, if you’re going to set one of these up, you should be on time for it. Speaking of which why did you want to meet with me?”

“Why are you so interested in that Leigh Leblanc kid? And why are you trying to hide that interest from Inanu?”

Oh, so he found out about that, I guess Adama must have talked, shouldn’t have trusted him to keep a secret. “Call it an intuition. I think they know more than they let on, and the whole crazy conspiracy angle is a facade to make us think they don’t. I think the disappearance was deliberate too.”

“I see. A new piece on the board. The question is, does this help or hurt us?”

“It’s a shame that my people couldn’t find anything. Guess we’re at the mercy of whenever they decide to come out.” I take a sip of wine. “Although, perhaps if you were to conduct your own search, perhaps that would yield better results?”

Bartholomew leaned forward. “Where did you say they lived again?”