[Quinn 03] - Shadow of Betrayal

“Maybe his radio’s not working and he’s using his phone,” she said.

“It’s not him,” Nate said, looking at the display. He flipped it open. “Hi.” He listened for a moment. “I’m in the emergency exit tunnel…. No. He went back in…. about fifteen minutes ago…I can’t get through. I think he can’t get a signal on the second level…. There’s a reason, a good one…. Wait, wait. Orlando, let me talk for a moment…I didn’t go with him because I’m not alone. We found Marion Dupuis. She’s with me…. No, no kid. That’s who he went back for … are you there?… Yes. Said if he didn’t get back in a few hours, I was to try and get Marion out…. Where are you?… Jesus, you’re as crazy as he is…. You need to watch out for the motion sensors. They go all along the road, then fan out in a wide arc as you near the gate. Maybe you should wait at the … Okay, okay. But you’re not going to be able to get through the gate without them knowing…. What’s that mean?… Orlando?… Orlando?” He pulled the phone away from his ear. “Shit.”

Orlando had been the name the other man, Quinn, had mentioned before he left. Marion assumed it was another member of their team.

“What did your friend say?” Marion asked.

Nate continued to stare at the ground for a few seconds longer before looking at her. “She’s on her way to help us.”

“That’s good, right?”

He forced a smile, then turned and walked back down the tunnel toward the facility corridor. “Maybe I can get a signal if I go back into the hallway.”

“Don’t. Please,” she said. “I mean Quinn wanted us to wait here.”

Nate nodded. “All right. I’ll give him another fifteen. If we don’t hear from him by then, I’ll go back in. That fair?”

“Sure … yes. Very fair.”

It wasn’t the fear of being discovered that had made Marion stop Nate. It was the fear that he might actually get ahold of Quinn. And when he did, Quinn would tell them that Iris was dead.

At least this way, she could hold on to hope a little longer.

CHAPTER

34

FOR AN HOUR AND A HALF TUCKER HAD PLAYED THE good boy, standing beside Mr. Rose as they both watched the others get the cargo ready. The technicians had started the job by prepping the solution that would put each package—as Mr. Rose had dubbed them early in the project—under for as long as would be needed, then administering it one by one. Tucker’s men then moved the gurneys each package was on into one of the two storage rooms nearest the elevator.

Tucker purposely didn’t look at any of their faces. It wasn’t because he was afraid of feeling a sudden rush of sympathy. In fact, quite the opposite would have been true. Their faces, their bodies, turned his stomach. They were just… wrong. He’d felt that way since he’d picked up the first one in Bangladesh two months earlier. Still, they were the key, the method in.

But not the delivery device itself. That was also a stroke of genius. No one would suspect a thing. And when it was over, not only would the targets be eliminated, but the unwanted brats, too. The fact that Mr. Rose was using them in this way made perfect sense to Tucker. It was economical. No waste at all.

After the cargo was in the storeroom, they packed up the remaining materials and wheeled everything on carts to the small trash incinerator at the far end of the second level. There could be no evidence left.

“What time is it?” Mr. Rose asked as the last cart was wheeled down the hall.

Tucker looked at his watch. “Eleven fifty-three.”

“They’re running slow. This should have been done twenty-three minutes ago.”

“We’re still ahead of schedule.”

Mr. Rose turned his laser eyes on Tucker. “That is not the point. Done by eleven- thirty was what we agreed to.”

Knowing it was useless to argue, Tucker said, “You’re right. My apologies.”

“I don’t want your apologies, Mr. Tucker. I want your efficiency. Tomorrow is a very important day. Everything must run smoothly.”

“It will. We’ve gone over it dozens of times. My men know what to do.”

“They’d better, because if something goes wrong and you somehow get away, I will find you. And I promise, I will not kill you.”

Despite himself, Tucker felt a shiver go down his back. He knew Mr. Rose had vast resources. Hell, he’d been able to assemble and pay for this operation in a matter of months. And it hadn’t been cheap, not even close. Forget what he was paying everyone. The travel, the special equipment, Yellowhammer, it had all cost big-time.

“I understand,” Tucker said. “Everything will be fine.”

Mr. Rose stared at him for another several seconds, then said, “I want the helicopters in the air by one- thirty.”

“I thought the plan was to go at two.”

“One-thirty,” Mr. Rose said.

There was no need for Tucker to respond. Mr. Rose had already turned and walked away.

Quinn had waited in the elevator shaft for forty-five minutes before he felt it was safe to sneak into the lower level. Even then, he’d been forced to duck into an unused office before he’d been able to get very far.