“Yes, yes. I take care of it.”
“And the power? You can take care of that, too?”
There was a long pause. “Take care of that, too. My man call you when they are ready. His name Lok.”
“Okay. We’ll be in position in...” Quinn looked at his watch. “Twenty minutes. It would be great if it could happen right around then.”
“You are big trouble.”
The line went dead.
Quinn and Nate stood in the fourth-floor hallway of the Quayside Villas, near the entrance to the stairs. Each had a backpack on his back, and they both wore latex gloves. If someone chose that moment to step out their door and saw them, there would be no mistaking Quinn and Nate as a couple of residents hanging out in the corridor. But like before, the building was quiet, asleep. Their presence had been unobserved.
In Quinn’s hand was his phone. It was also silent.
“Maybe your friend couldn’t make it happen,” Nate said.
“Patience,” Quinn said.
Another minute passed.
“Perhaps we should go back,” Nate said. “Do it tomorrow night. You know, give the old guy more time to arrange things.”
This time, Quinn said nothing.
Another minute. “What if one of the security guards sho—” The soft hum of Quinn’s cell phone vibrating in his hand cut Nate
off. Quinn raised the phone to his ear. “Yes.” “Mr. Quinn?” “Yes. Who is this?” “Lok.” Ne Win’s man. He sounded around the same age as Nate
and had a slight British accent. “We’re ready when you are.” “We’re ready now,” Quinn said. One second. Two. Three. Suddenly all the lights in the hallway went out. Though there was
no window nearby to check, Quinn knew the power outage extended farther than just the corridor, encompassing several blocks on the north side of the river.
“We’re dark here,” Quinn said. “One hour’s the most I can guarantee,” Lok said. “That’s plenty.” Quinn disconnected the call, then switched his phone to thermal
camera mode. The faint blue glow from the screen illuminated his face
but little else. “Anything?” Nate asked. “No,” Quinn said. He closed his phone, then pulled out the small
set of night vision binoculars he’d let Nate use on their last visit. “Wait here.”
Quinn anticipated that one of the residents would come out to check if power was also lost in the hall, but as he made his way toward 04-21 no one had stepped out to join him. Either they were all asleep, or they assumed the entire building was in a blackout.
When he reached room 04-20, he stopped. He pulled out his phone again and aimed the lens at the wall of room 04-21. Nothing. All was dark. No power and no people, either.
He quickly returned down the hallway where he’d left Nate. “Empty,” he whispered. “Let’s go up.” Quinn was working under the assumption that because the door
to 04-21 was impassable, there must be another way. And since the room directly above it—05-21—was owned by another phony corporation, perhaps that was the way in.
The layout of the fifth floor was exactly the same as the fourth. As was the lack of light.
With Nate’s hand on his back, Quinn led the way down the corridor. When the door to 05-21 came into view, he said, “Same as below. Sconce directly across from the door.” He reactivated his cell phone, then handed it to Nate. “Check it out.”
Nate accessed the thermal image function, then turned the device toward the ornament.
“I’m picking up two power sources. Probably batteries,” he said.
“Two?” Quinn said.
“One toward the bottom and one near the top.”
Quinn trained the night vision binoculars on the sconce. There was a hole at the bottom just like the one downstairs. So that had to be a camera. But there was no corresponding hole near the top.
As Nate scanned the apartment, Quinn slipped his backpack off his shoulders and removed a small rectangular box from inside.
“Dark,” Nate said after a moment. “The apartment’s empty.”
“Good,” Quinn said.
He flipped the switch on the side of the box, then a small video screen mounted on the device came to life. He scrolled through a menu until he came to a function labeled sgnl srch. He selected it, was presented with another set of options, selected dig vid, then waited as the device cycled through potential transmission frequencies.
Forty-five seconds later, a dark, murky image filled the monitor. He’d tapped into the feed from the camera in the sconce.
“Here,” Quinn said, handing Nate the monitor.
