“Breaking the law’s not personal?”
She tilted her head, looking at him with dark smiling eyes. “Okay,” she said. “I got in because nothing else seemed as exciting.”
“That’s a job-interview answer.”
“Really? So tell me a better one.”
He smiled. “How about, I got in because if I’d said no, they would have killed me.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that true?”
“You just asked for a better answer, not a true one,” Quinn said, though his answer was essentially correct.
“I took Abraham’s offer because if I didn’t, I’d have ended up sitting in a cubicle in Silicon Valley, programming crap so some idiot could spell-check his document a little faster. Bullshit work. At least this way, I get out sometimes.”
She moved a finger to her mouth and touched it to her lips, letting him know she’d heard something else. This time he didn’t turn his head, but instead looked toward the door. Which, of course, meant he had to look directly at her, too.
He’d met Orlando several times over the previous nine months, but before, Durrie and Delger were always around. This was the first time they had spent any time alone together.
For some reason, their bosses decided today’s mission would be best conducted by the two rookies. The task wasn’t that difficult. No cleanup involved. It was an info-gathering job. Get in, plant some bugs, then get out. It was a mission more aimed at Orlando’s specialties than Quinn’s, but Durrie had deemed it a good exercise for his apprentice.
The building was the research facility for Net/Gyro Inc., one of those overnight technology wonders that seem to have sucked in a lot of cash but had yet to turn a real profit. Someplace Orlando might have ended up working at if she had taken the safer path.
Quinn’s function on this mission was guide and bodyguard, while Orlando was tasked with inserting the bugs into the phone system so that specific lines could be monitored. Who would be making those calls, and what they would be concerning, neither of them had any idea. It was just another one of those “you don’t need to know” situations.
They’d gotten into the facility fine. They’d even planted the bugs without any trouble. It was the getting out that had been a problem. Their exit route, one planned by Durrie, had proved to be unusable. Building construction had sealed off an entire wing of the structure, removing it from play.
Exiting the same way they’d come in also wouldn’t work. The automated video loops of empty corridors that covered their arrival would have stopped working at least fifteen minutes earlier.
So Quinn had contacted Durrie, who told them to find someplace to hole up while he tried to figure out an alternate exit.
It should have been annoying, but Quinn didn’t mind. In fact, for the moment, he didn’t care how long they had to wait.
As Orlando glanced over at him, he raised a questioning eyebrow, hoping to hide the fact he had been staring at her. She pointed to the right, indicating the noise was coming from that direction of the hallway. Quinn had already heard it, but he pretended to listen, then gave her a nod as the footsteps grew nearer.
When she looked away again, he couldn’t help but let his gaze return to her—the curve of her neck, her pale brown skin, the ponytail of dark hair that reached just below her shoulders. He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to be interested. But he didn’t know how not to be. She’d captured him, and she didn’t even know it.
Outside, the footsteps began to slow. They were close now, almost to the door. Quinn could feel Orlando tense. He cursed himself for not letting her enter the closet first so he would have been between her and the door.
One step.
A second.
Then a hand on the door.
Quinn pulled out the only weapon he’d been allowed to bring along. It was a handheld Taser. He leaned forward, across Orlando’s lap, ready to strike the moment the door opened.
He could hear the knob turn, then the latch release. He expected the door to ease away from the jamb slowly, but it didn’t.
With a jerk, it flew wide.
Quinn lunged forward, the Taser aimed straight in front of him. But the man on the other side seemed to expect the move. He was standing several feet away from the threshold, well out of Quinn’s initial range. Quinn started to push himself up for a second attempt, but the man’s words stopped him.
“Nice try,” Durrie said, a knowing glint in his eyes. He was wearing the uniform of a Net/Gyro security officer. “Get to know each other better in there, did you? Well, teatime’s over. Let’s go.”
It had been a test. Durrie had known all along the way out he had given them wouldn’t work. What he wanted to see was if they’d keep calm when things went wrong. It was an exam they both passed.
And though Durrie couldn’t have cared less, he had been right. Quinn and Orlando had gotten to know each other better, enough to establish a friendship that continued to grow stronger over the years. Only never in the direction Quinn had hoped. Instead, somehow that honor had fallen to Durrie. Orlando had been too good for Quinn’s old mentor, but there was no way he could tell her that. She had loved Durrie and taken care of him.
Quinn would have considered it a waste if not for Garrett—the son Durrie would never even acknowledge as his own.
