'What about him?' Skyler said, nodding toward the dead mechanic by the door.
'We leave him here,' Quinn said. 'There's spray paint in the kit in the back of the van. Tag a few of the vehicles, some of the walls.'
They would make it look like an act of vandalism gone bad. To cover the bloodstains, Quinn would open one of the fifty-gallon drums of used motor oil, letting it spill over the entire floor. Hide one crime scene with another. And at least this way, one family would have some kind of closure.
Quinn gave the room one final look before they left. It was a good job, and, surprisingly, it had gone quickly. Only eighteen minutes by his watch. But it wasn't their handiwork that stuck in his mind as he climbed into the van. It was Borko and that goddamn screwdriver.
Karma was something Quinn was pretty sure existed. Only in his mind it wasn't perfect. Some people got away with some pretty bad shit. If Borko's karma ever came back at him, it was going to be hellish. And for just a moment, Quinn was not opposed to exacting some of the payment himself.
'Have you ever dealt with anything like that before?' Glaze asked as they drove away.
'It's what we do,' Quinn said.
'Are they all like that?'
'I've seen worse,' Quinn lied.
Quinn ordered another beer. It was nearing midnight, and the Saigon evening had finally turned pleasant. Still warm, but the humidity had dropped to bearable levels. There were about a dozen or so other people spread out across the rooftop dining area. But at the bar there was only Quinn and the bartender.
Quinn took a deep drink from the bottle before setting it down on the counter. It had been six years since that incident in Toronto, yet Quinn had still never encountered another incident as brutal.
Borko.
He raised his beer to his lips and finished it off. 'Another,' he said to the bartender.
Chapter 16
The next morning there was another message from Duke.
Xavier, We're on. Need you in Berlin by Sunday. You are registered as Donald Bragg at the Dorint Hotel Am Gendarmenmarkt. Contact information and update after you arrive. Advise any arrangements I need to make for your team
P4J
Quinn sent Duke a confirmation.
'We're definitely leaving today,' Quinn said.
He and Nate were sitting with Orlando at the table in her dining room eating
team were in Ho Chi Minh City, she was pleased to hear they weren't aware of her. Quinn turned his attention to the job in Berlin. 'Were you able to find anyone for me?'
'I don't want you to argue with me about this,' Orlando said, her eyes locking on his. 'It makes the most sense.'
'No,' Quinn said, realizing where she was headed.
'I'm the logical choice. There's going to be a lot of surveillance going on. That means a ton of data that needs to be processed and analyzed. That's what I do. I'm the best and you know it.' She paused. 'There's no choice here, Quinn. You need me. And I'm coming.'
'We can do this without you,' he said. 'There are others who can handle it.' She stood, picking up her empty bowl of soup. 'I've already got my ticket,' she said. 'I leave tomorrow.'
Nate looked down at his bowl of pho as if it had suddenly become the most important thing in the world.
'Dammit!' Quinn said. He stood and followed her into the kitchen. 'I said I don't need you.'
'My son will be fine while I'm gone.'
'I didn't say anything about him,' Quinn said.
She set the empty bowl in the sink, then looked at Quinn for a moment. 'But it's what you're worried about.'
Quinn took a deep breath. She was at least partially right. But it was more than just her son that concerned him.
Orlando returned to the living room. Again, Quinn followed.
As she sat back down she said, 'Remember that
Indian restaurant near Oranienburger Strasse?' 'What are you talking about?' Quinn asked. 'It was just north of the Mitte.' Quinn closed his eyes for a moment as his mind
