switched gears. 'Amit? Amid? Something like that?' 'Amirit,' she said. 'We'll meet there at nine p.m.
Saturday.' 'Orlando –' 'Quinn, don't. Just tell me you'll meet me there.' He didn't bother masking his irritation. 'I'm not
going to be happy about it.'
'Good. You shouldn't be,' she said. 'Today I'll work on getting all the equipment arranged. Any special requests?'
Quinn took a deep breath, then thought for a moment. 'A surveillance kit. Weapons. We'll need video taps, too.'
'How many?' 'I don't know,' Quinn said. 'At least fifteen to be
safe.' She looked over at Nate. 'What do you use?' Nate looked up seconds later, confused by the
silence. 'What? Are you talking to me?' 'What kind of gun?' 'I have a Walther back home.' She frowned. 'A Glock would be better. Light
weight. Single-action. Easy to use.' 'I've never had any problems with the Walther.' 'A Glock would be better.' A hesitation, then he said, 'Okay.' Orlando wasn't writing any of it down, but Quinn
had no doubt she would remember. She asked, 'Is that it?' 'If you have any time, a little info on what Borko's been up to lately could be useful.'
'Don't press your luck,' she said.
'What kind of name is Borko?' Nate asked.
'That's a stupid question,' Quinn said.
Nate looked momentarily stung, then his eyes narrowed in thought. 'Okay,' he said. 'Should I be worried about him?'
'That's better. And the answer is yes,' Quinn said.
'He led a group of Bosnian Serbs during the war,' Orlando added. 'They were particularly adept at ethnic cleansing.'
'Great,' Nate said, not looking happy.
Quinn turned to Orlando. 'So how about it?'
'I'm going to have to bring in some outside help on this,' she told him. 'Your paranoid friend?' 'Not paranoid. Just cautious. He's already helping
us with the slide, anyway.'
Orlando's contact went by the name 'the Mole.' Quinn had never talked to him. For all he knew, the Mole was some college geek playing spy out of his dorm room. Given his choice of a code name, Quinn wouldn't have been too surprised if that was true. 'Just don't run up a big tab. Okay?'
'Mama?'
The child's voice came from behind Quinn. He turned.
Garrett, Orlando's son, was standing near the entrance to the dining room. Awake, he looked even more Caucasian than he had when he was sleeping.
'Garrett,' Orlando said as she stood up. 'I heard loud talk,' the boy said in English. 'Are you mad?' 'No, honey. Everything's fine. Come and say hello to Jonathan and Nate.' The boy approached cautiously, then stuck out his hand. 'Hello, Mr. Jonathan. Hello, Mr. Nate.' Quinn squatted down to the boy's level to shake
hands. 'Good morning, Garrett,' Quinn said. 'Are you a friend of Mama's?' 'Yes. I am.' Garrett turned to Nate. 'What about you?' Nate nodded his head. 'Sure. I'm her friend.' 'Do you want to watch a movie with me?' Garrett
asked. He looked up at his mom. 'Can we watch
'We'd love to,' Quinn said. 'But we have to leave.' Garrett frowned, disappointed. 'Maybe next time,' Orlando said. 'But you can
watch it in my room, okay?' 'Okay,' Garrett said, brightening. Quinn put a hand gently on Garrett's shoulder. 'It
was a pleasure meeting you. You take it easy, okay?' 'Yes, sir.' Quinn looked at Orlando. 'I don't want you to
come.'
She looked back at him. 'Neither do I,' she said. 'I'll see you in Berlin.' She pulled Garrett to her and mussed his hair.
Her son smiled. 'Mama, stop.'
Back in his hotel room, Quinn gathered the few things he'd unpacked and threw them back in his bag. The new clothes and other items Nate had picked up had already been split between them and put in each of their bags. He then met up with Nate downstairs so they could make their flight arrangements.
'There are several airlines that fly out of Ho Chi Minh City,' the woman at the desk told them. 'Thai Airways. And Air France, of course. Their office is just across the street, next to the Hotel Continental.'
Quinn thanked her, then headed for the exit with Nate in tow. While Thai Airways was one of his favorite ways
