back now?' he asked.
'What? Oh, right.' Tucker pulled the cash and map out of his pocket and handed everything to Quinn, who then slipped it all into his pocket. 'I'll walk you out,' Tucker said. 'Make sure you get that cab.'
They turned for the door.
'Mr. Quinn,' Piper said. Quinn looked back. 'I don't know for a fact who's put up the reward, but that doesn't mean I don't hear rumors.'
'What's the rumor?' Quinn asked.
A pause. Then Piper said, 'Borko.'
'Borko?'
Piper nodded. 'He's no friend of mine, and by your reaction, he's not one of yours either. I'd be careful if I were you.' Quinn stood motionless for a moment, absorbing this new information, then nodded and left.
Chapter 15
It was during the cab ride back to the hotel that Piper's identity finally clicked in Quinn's mind. Reuben Piper. He could be no one else. Durrie's first partner, long before Quinn had joined the business. Durrie had seldom spoken of Piper, but occasionally a story would come out. Quinn could recall few details. The pairing had ended badly, though. That much he did remember.
The cab dropped Quinn off in front of the Rex at 11:30 p.m. Technically, it was after the citywide
11:00 p.m. curfew, but the streets were still busy, and Quinn had noticed several restaurants and clubs still open during the drive back. His mind spinning, the last thing he wanted to do was to go up to his room, yet the idea of returning to a club did not appeal to him. He considered for a moment walking over to Mai 99, but opted in the end for the rooftop bar at the Rex.
As he took a sip from a glass of Tiger beer, he couldn't help but consider the ramifications of his encounter with Piper. Quinn had thought he was coming to a safe haven in Vietnam. Instead he and Nate had been spotted the moment they'd stepped off the plane. And as if that little bit of news needed an extra kicker, Piper's revelation that Borko might be involved in the disruption was disturbing to say the least.
About the only positive that came out of the impromptu meeting was what Piper had not said. There'd been no mention of Orlando at all. If Piper had known she was also here, he wouldn't have let Quinn go so easily. It was bad enough having Quinn in town, but two top-level agents in Saigon at the same time? Two agents who not only knew each other, but had worked extensively together in the past? It would have been too much. But apparently their paths had not crossed in the couple of months Piper had been there.
Quinn's thoughts returned to Borko. He was a problem, and not just a small one. It was like going to the dentist for a cleaning and being told you had to have multiple root canals right away, Quinn thought, then quickly changed his mind.
Still, Quinn had to admit, Borko's involvement made a certain amount of sense. Undertaking a disruption was a huge task, one that usually wasn't worth the risk. But Borko's organization was the Sex Pistols of the intelligence world, willing to do things that few of their competitors would touch. The strategy both helped and hurt Borko. Most clients wouldn't deal with him. But occasionally an unconventional need would arise, and that's when he'd get a call.
While Quinn's path had crossed that of the Serbian's organization only once, it was enough. No matter how hard he tried, the memory of that job was something he could never forget.
It had been six years earlier in Toronto.
It started off like a lot of his jobs did, with Quinn crammed in the back of a van, staring at a rack of monitors mounted temporarily against the wall. This time the images on the screens were different angles of a work area in a City of Toronto vehicle maintenance facility. He wasn't the only one watching. Two other guys were shoehorned in there with him.
'What's that? Eight shots?'
'Nine,' Quinn said.
Dan Skyler, the one who asked the question, was sitting to Quinn's right. He was a local guy Quinn had hired for the gig, a disposal specialist among other things, though Quinn wasn't planning on tapping into that part of Skyler's talents.
When the job had been offered to him, it had been characterized as being straightforward. Keep an eye on things as the exchange went down, then go in after everyone was gone and sanitize the scene
– remove any trace of their presences: tire tracks, fingerprints, footprints, things moved out of place, any physical evidence at all that might lead someone to pick up the trail of the asset. If someone had later been able to trace the asset to the exchange location, it needed to be a dead end. Quinn liked to think of it as a water job. Like in a movie, where someone would run into a creek and use the water to cover his tracks and wash away any scent he might leave behind. Quinn's job was to be the creek.
Only based on the scene in front of them, it was going to take more than just a creek to clean things up. Skyler's specialty was going to be needed after all.
To Quinn's left was Joseph Glaze. He was with the client, a group called V12, there to monitor Quinn's work and communicate back to his superiors when everything was done. Not a situation Quinn was particularly fond of, but it sometimes came with the job.
'Jesus Christ,' Glaze said, his eyes wide. 'We need to do something.' He started to push himself up out of his chair, but Quinn reached over and grabbed Glaze's shoulder.
'Hold on,' Quinn said.
'But –'
'It's not our job.'
