Quinn smiled. He’d have to show Orlando that one.I know you’re busy, but I do hope you come again soon. This is your home, no matter how long you’ve been away.I love you,
Mom
Quinn read the letter twice. He could feel the guilt of having stayed away so long pressing in on him again. The other important email was from Orlando. He checked the time/date stamp. It had been sent just before her text from the night before.Hi Jakey,Your mom’s all set. I’m on a flight from Chicago to New York, and then New York to London. Should be landing at Heathrow around 9 a.m. Coming in on Kuwaiti Air. Let me know what you want me to do once I get in. I’ve found a flat in Soho that I’ve sublet for two weeks. My sense is we won’t even need a week, but I didn’t want to have any problems.Got a potential hit on that photo. Russian. Former KGB. Name: Nikolai Palavin. The information I found lists him as presumed dead. Maybe it’s him, maybe not. Still have no idea why his picture would have been in the folder.I’ll call you once I land.Love,
O
It was apparent Orlando had been talking a little too much about him with his mother. Jakey was a name he hadn’t been called since he’d left home, and he’d had no intention of ever being called by it again.
At the moment, though, what troubled him more was the ID of the man in the photo. Russian, like the woman who’d been showing up everywhere Quinn had been working. Maybe there was no connection, but he would be a fool to ignore the possibility.
He turned off his computer and stuck it in his bag. Since he’d be staying with Orlando that evening, he would take everything with him. But he wasn’t going to check out. London was a big city, and it was always good to have an alternate safe haven.
Once he was ready, he donned his backpack and headed out for his meeting with Wills.
Petra and Mikhail were up and out of the apartment by 6 a.m. Thirty-seven minutes later, Petra was in position outside the building where David Wills supposedly worked. At 7:43, a man approached the front door. Unconsciously, Petra leaned forward as if those couple of inches would make the difference over the half a block that separated them. Based on the description Nova had given her, this guy was too short and too young to be Wills.
The man didn’t knock at the door. Instead he pulled out a key and let himself in.
Petra kept her gaze glued on the entrance in case the man came back out.
Twenty-five minutes later, he did. Only he wasn’t alone.
And there was no mistaking his companion.
David Wills.
• • •
As soon as Petra realized Wills and the other man were going to take a taxi, she moved to the curb to flag down one of her own. She didn’t even let it stop before she pulled open the back door and jumped in.
“I’m with them,” she said, pointing at Wills’s taxi in the distance. “We need to keep up, I don’t have the directions.”
The driver gave her a quick, knowing look, then took off in pursuit.
Maybe he thought she was a wife following her husband. That was fine by Petra. Whatever got him moving.
They drove for ten minutes, fighting traffic all the way. But her driver was a good one and never fell more than three cars behind Wills.
“Looks like they’re getting out,” the cabbie said. “Is here all right?”
Petra looked through the front window. They were nearing a busy corner.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“Oxford Circus, ma’am.”
Wills’s cab was at the curb, the other man leaning in, paying the driver, while Wills waited on the sidewalk.
“This is fine here,” she said.
The cabbie pulled over. Petra threw some cash into the front seat, then scrambled out of the car.
It took her a moment to spot Wills again. His cab was gone, and he and the other man were walking down the sidewalk away from her. She increased her pace and closed the gap to within thirty feet. It was then that she saw a sign for the entrance to the Oxford Circus Underground station, and had a strong hunch that’s where they were headed.
Using the crowd as cover, Petra moved around and in front of Wills, then descended the stairs to the station, praying she was right.
At the bottom, she made a beeline for the automatic ticket kiosk. Since she had no idea where they might be headed, she bought a ticket that would allow her to travel to any of the different zones, then looked back just in time to see Wills pass through a ticket gate.
She followed, once again using the crowd as her shield. She quickly realized that the man with Wills was the one to worry about. At random intervals he would look around like he was making sure they were going in the right direction, but in reality was no doubt checking for tails. Looking, in essence, for her.
She fell back as far as she could, a couple of times even letting them move out of sight for a moment. And so far, it had worked.
When it became apparent they were headed to the Bakerloo southbound platform, she fell back even more. Luck was with her. There were two women about her age heading in the same direction. Petra slipped in behind them, keeping the distance that separated them close enough so that it appeared they were all traveling together.
As she entered the platform it was all she could do not to look for Wills. It wasn’t until the train arrived and she was moving forward with the crowd that she allowed herself to check. Wills was still there, entering the train one car down.
