[Quinn 02] - The Deceived

Only Quinn wasn’t going to be played anymore.

Jenny said something to her partner, then started walking toward the stacks that lined the rear of the compound.

Quinn pulled back until he reached Tasha. Further down the aisle, he could see Ne Win and his two men waiting. Quinn held up one finger, then motioned for someone to come to him.

Ne Win tapped Lian on the shoulder.

“Take my position here and keep an eye on them,” Quinn whispered directly into Lian’s ear as soon as he got there. “If it looks like they’re going to kill one of the hostages, take the shooter out.”

Lian nodded.

Quinn reluctantly motioned for Tasha to follow him, then began moving off to his right. Within moments, they reached an intersection of a path that ran along the back side of the compound. It led toward the section Jenny had entered moments earlier.

Quinn leaned around the edge of a container. He could hear footsteps in the distance, down one of the intersecting aisles. At this distance, he couldn’t tell exactly which direction they were going in.

“Wait here,” he said to Tasha.

“No,” she replied.

“I don’t need you getting in my way.”

“I don’t give a shit what you need,” she said. “I’m the one who’ll be bringing her in.”

He knew whatever he said she wasn’t going to listen, so he made his best guess which aisle Jenny had gone down, and began running toward it.

He stopped when he reached his target aisle, got as close to the edge as possible, then listened. It was quiet, no steps at all. Did she hear us? he wondered.

He looked over his shoulder past Tasha, half expecting to see Jenny standing there waiting for him to notice her. But there was no one there.

There was the crunch of sand under a shoe, then again. The steps had returned. They were at least fifty feet down the new path and moving away from Quinn’s position. Then the feet stopped again and were followed almost immediately by the sound of metal on metal.

He’d heard the sound before, recently, though it seemed like years ago. It was the sound of the doors of a container opening.

After about ten seconds, the doors shut again, and the footsteps returned. Apparently, Jenny was looking for something specific. Not cargo; these containers would all be empty.

No, she was looking for the perfect tomb, he realized. An unfitting resting place for a presidential candidate.

Instead of following her, he turned in the other direction and led Tasha toward the clearing.

Nothing had changed. Guerrero and Murray were still kneeling on the dirt, and Jenny’s man was standing watch behind them.

Nothing had changed, that is, except Quinn’s angle. He was now behind the watcher.

He listened and was immediately rewarded with the sound of Jenny’s footsteps still far away.

“This time you stay,” he said to Tasha. “Watch my back in case she returns.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Our first priority,” he said, repeating her words. “Freeing the hostages.”

“You can’t do it alone.”

“Just stay here.”

The nod she gave him was so slight, it barely even registered. But it was enough.

Carefully he moved out from between the containers. He measured each step, rolling from the balls of his feet to his toes, then pushing off again. He didn’t let his heels touch the ground until he was standing two feet behind the man.

Quinn wanted to shoot him, but while the sound of a suppressor was by design minimal, it was still distinctive, especially to those who were familiar with it. Quinn had no doubt it was a sound Jenny knew well.

He flipped his SIG around so that he was holding it by the barrel, then whipped it against the man’s temple. There was the slap of metal against skin, but that was it. The man didn’t even have the opportunity to yell out in pain before he lost consciousness.

Quinn caught him as he fell to the ground, minimizing the additional noise.

He stepped over the body, then leaned forward and touched the congressman on the shoulder. Guerrero reluctantly looked over his shoulder, then his eyes grew wide when he saw who it was.

Quinn was holding a finger to his lips. The congressman seemed to understand and remained silent.

Quinn then tapped Murray.

“You son of a—”

Quinn put his hand over Murray’s mouth. Once he was sure Murray was going to keep quiet, he pointed at each of them, then at a break in the stacks off to the right. Lian was standing just in view, having moved out in response to Quinn’s actions.