[Quinn 02] - The Deceived

After several minutes, Ne Win told the driver to pull the car to the side of the road and park as close to the brush as possible. As soon as the car was stopped, the old man looked back at Quinn and Tasha.

“We’re almost on top of the signal,” Tasha said. She looked up from the tracker at the old man. “How did you know?”

Ne Win didn’t even smile in response. “We walk from here.”

The sign in front of the compound read Kwan Shipping. But instead of entering through the front gate, the man who had been driv-ing—Ne Win said his name was Lian—led them through the brush along the east side.

The day had gone gray, the clouds over the island now dark and heavy with rain. Quinn could feel the moisture beginning to gather in the air in anticipation of the regularly scheduled afternoon rain.

“Our first priority is freeing the hostages,” Tasha whispered to Quinn. “Then we take Jenny. I want her alive.”

Quinn kept his eyes on the path ahead of them, and his mouth shut.

“She’s the link to LP. We need to know who her contact is,” she said. “Understand?”

He glanced over. “Sure. I understand what you want.”

He looked away, then sped up a little so they were no longer walking abreast.

About one hundred and fifty feet away from the road, Lian led them out of the bushes and up to the fence that surrounded the compound. There was a place where the barrier had been cut apart and then pulled back together and held in place with several thick wires. The other man began untwisting them.

“You went in this way last time?” Quinn asked.

Ne Win nodded.

As soon as the last of the wires came off, Ne Win’s men pulled the fence apart so everyone could pass through.

The compound was dense with shipping containers. Some had names on the side, some had none. Quinn even saw a few marked baron & baron ltd., like the one Markoff had been in.

Ne Win tapped one of his men on the shoulder and motioned for him to scout ahead, but Quinn stopped the man before he left.

“I’ll do it,” he whispered.

“I’ll go with you,” Tasha said.

Quinn shrugged, then left the others behind and entered the metal maze. He could hear Tasha behind him, stepping lightly on the sandy ground.

Ahead and a little to his right, he heard a voice. He couldn’t make out what was being said, only that the speaker was male, and the words sounded like English.

Quinn looked at Tasha and held a finger to his lips. The glare she gave him back told him there was no need to emphasize the obvious.

He took the next aisle right, then zigzagged toward where the sound had come from. Again Tasha followed.

Ahead a car door slammed shut.

Quinn could see an open area beyond the final stack. The noise had come from there.

He eased forward until he was only a few feet from the end. He could feel Tasha peering over his shoulder.

He turned his head. “Wait back there,” he said, the words barely audible. He nodded in the direction they’d just come.

“Uh-uh,” she murmured.

“Now,” Quinn said.

Her jaw tensed, but a few seconds later she pulled back and retreated to the end of the row.

Quinn returned his attention to the clearing. It looked to be about fifty feet wide and was lined on all four sides by more of the metal boxes. There were narrow passageways between each row, with only one wider break. It was off to Quinn’s right and was large enough for a truck to pass through. The front gate, Quinn assumed.

He moved right to the edge, tilting his head so he could see around the corner of the container. The Mercedes sedan that he and the others had taken to the Maxwell Food Centre was parked in the middle of the clearing.

There were four people near the car. Two were on their knees, their hands clasped behind their heads. There was no mistaking them.

It was Congressman Guerrero and Kenneth Murray.

Jenny was standing in front of them, a gun in her hand. Behind them was a man Quinn had never seen before. But he was willing to bet it was the same man who’d showed up at the Quayside during the blackout. There had been two people then. One had been young and was sitting in the car when Ne Win’s man had spotted them. With her short hair and slight form, Quinn was also willing to bet the young man had been Jenny.

Quinn took a deep, silent breath. For over a week, he’d been trying to help Markoff ’s girlfriend and discover who had left Markoff to die. But the person he was after was also the person he’d been trying to help. Jenny had never cared about Markoff. She’d only been using him. And when that usefulness had run its course, she’d disposed of him.

And now she had played Quinn like she’d played Markoff.