The side of the vehicle next to Nate was smashed in. Quinn imagined Nate trying to jump out of the way, but not being able to completely clear the oncoming car’s path.
Without another word, he and Orlando picked Nate up and carried him to the taxi. Tasha had gotten out and had opened the rear door.
Once Nate was settled, Quinn handed Orlando his phone. “Call Ne Win. He’ll tell you where to take Nate. Then tell him to have a
couple men meet me at Esplanade Park.”
“You’re going after her?” Orlando asked.
“I have to,” Quinn said.
“I know. God, I’m sorry. I...I—”
“Just go. Nate needs help.”
“But how are you going to find her?” Orlando asked.
Quinn glanced for a second at Tasha, then looked back at Orlando. “Markoff ’s message.”
“I should be putting you in jail,” Tasha said.
They were in a Toyota Crown Quinn had hot-wired. Quinn was driving again, while Tasha sat next to him. They were heading toward a rendezvous with one of her people. Tasha had called ahead, asking for the device Quinn had told her they needed. Now, though, it sounded like she was having second thoughts.
“You’ve injured several of my men. Federal officers. You’ve hindered a terrorist investigation, which pretty much means you’re dead. So why shouldn’t I arrest you?”
He said nothing. She already knew the answer. Without Quinn’s help, the congressman was as good as dead, and Jenny would have disappeared.
After several seconds, Tasha asked, “Are you sure this is going to work?”
“No,” he told her.
“That’s just great.”
A few minutes later, they approached the corner of River Valley Road and Clemenceau Avenue.
“There,” Tasha said, pointing at two men standing off to the side.
“No games,” Quinn said. “And no following, either. If they do, I’ll know.”
Quinn pulled the car to the side of the road but kept rolling slowly forward, never bringing the vehicle to a complete stop. He dropped a hand down to his lap where his SIG lay waiting. “Roll down your window. Have them toss it inside.”
Tasha did as he asked. The two men started walking with the car, keeping pace.
“Are you all right?” one of the men asked.
“Fine,” she said. “Just give it to me.”
The other man leaned down to get a better look at Quinn. “I thought he was one of the—”
“He’s okay,” Tasha said. “He was working undercover. NSA.”
“He’s not coercing you?”
“No.”
The first man handed her something through the window.
“I’ll check in soon,” she said.
As they drove off, Quinn kept an eye on the rearview mirror in case anyone was following. But they seemed to have gotten away cleanly.
Tasha held up the device she’d been handed. “What are we looking for?”
“Cell phone ID.”
“You really think her cell phone’s traceable on one of these?” The tracer they’d just picked up would never work on a scrambled signal.
“Not her phone,” Quinn said.
He gave her the same ID number Markoff had scrawled on the inside of the container he’d died in. The transmitter Quinn had taken out of the vase at the Quayside was sitting in his bag in the car Jenny had stolen from him. As long as she hadn’t switched vehicles or dumped the bag, they’d find her.
“I’ve got a signal,” she said. “It’s east of here. At least a couple of miles.”
That was good. It was the same direction they needed to head in to meet up with Ne Win.
“Tell me again why you’re here,” Quinn said.
“I told you, I’m running an off-the-books op. Protection for the congressman.”
“Protection? Or are you using him as bait?”
She had no answer for that.
“Who’s your handler?”
