It had been a busy afternoon. In addition to stealing the Mercedes he was sitting in, he'd picked up a few other items they might need. Rope, a crowbar, some other tools, even a phone for Orlando. He'd also spent some more time online, which proved to be both beneficial and frustrating. Beneficial, because he was able to discover the location of the IOMP convention office and was even able to register himself for the convention as Dr Richard Kubik, from Topeka, Kansas. He wasn't sure he would need to actually show up, but if he did, having a registration badge would make things much easier.
The only thing that had made him pause was that the convention wasn't scheduled to begin for another week. Borko had indicated his operation was to start within forty-eight hours. There was a time disconnect Quinn couldn't yet reconcile.
Time. The convention. The connection to the Office. The very nature of the biological agent itself. All were questions Quinn had no good answers for.
Maybe the IOMP meetings were merely a cover for the delivery of the biological agent. Maybe it was just a coincidence, and Duke had just been trying to mislead Quinn. Or maybe any of a hundred other scenarios. As for the identity of the disease, the answer was just as elusive. Quinn had been hoping the Mole would have gotten back to him with an answer by now. But there had been no word.
But most frustrating had been his lack of progress with his attempt to get to whatever files had been uploaded to Jansen's FTP server.
He jerked slightly when his phone rang. Orlando's name was on the display. Quinn put the hands-free earpiece in his ear.
'Yes?' Quinn asked.
'Borko's here,' Orlando said.
The way Orlando described it to Quinn, Borko arrived in a blue Porsche and waited outside the gate until one of the guards pulled it open. Then he drove onto the lot and around to the side, parking behind the van, near the building entrance. Borko was the only one to get out of his car. As far as she could tell, he'd arrived alone. Borko entered the building, and that's when she made her call.
A Porsche.
It was nearly an hour before Orlando called again. 'He just came out.' Quinn started up the Mercedes, but remained parked at the curb. 'What's he doing?'
'Talking to someone,' she replied. 'They're walking to his car.' A pause. 'I'm coming down now.'
'Wait,' Quinn said. 'We need to know which
direction he goes in.' 'He'll leave the same way he arrived.' 'You don't know that.' Rapid breaths came over the phone, the sounds
of someone in motion. 'I'm already on my way,' she insisted. Quinn cursed to himself as he glanced at his watch, then he said, 'You've got thirty seconds.' 'Forty-five,' she huffed. Quinn guessed she was
on the stairs. 'You've already used fifteen.' He pulled the Mercedes away from the curb and
onto the street, double-parking in front of the apart
ment building. 'Fifteen seconds,' he said. 'I'm almost there.' 'Ten.' 'Wait!' He glanced at the door. No sign of her. 'Time's up. I'm leaving.' 'Don't!' she yelled. Suddenly she burst through the front door and
ran toward the car. Quinn reached over and pushed open the passenger door. She jumped in and pulled the door shut behind her.
'Go, go, go,' she said. 'Elbestrasse. Right in front of you.'
Quinn pressed down on the accelerator. The Mercedes raced forward toward the end of the block, toward Elbestrasse. When they got to the intersection, Quinn stopped. Elbestrasse was empty.
'Maybe he went the other way,' he said.
'No. This way,' she said.
'Then maybe he already went by and we missed him. Or maybe he hasn't left at all.'
She said nothing.
Quinn scanned the intersecting street in front of them. Elbestrasse was divided in the middle by a row of large trees and additional street parking. It was still empty. He considered their options, but basically it came down to wait or give up.
Suddenly there was the roar of an engine and the reflection of headlights off the road. A moment later a dark blue Porsche Boxster flashed by.
'See. I told you,' Orlando said.
Quinn let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding, then turned left onto Elbestrasse, mere seconds behind Borko.
Chapter 32
Borko raced through the city, seemingly with no destination in mind. He was obviously checking for a tail. Quinn kept his distance, but never lost sight of the Porsche.
After twenty minutes, Borko's driving became less erratic, more focused. Finally, he seemed to have settled on a fixed direction. Which meant only one thing.
He hadn't spotted them.
