[Quinn 03] - Shadow of Betrayal

“Another ‘but’?”

Nate smiled. “Orlando’s been giving me tips for accessing some less public sources.”

“Skip the rundown, and tell me what you found.”

“There was a government facility, here in California, called Yellowhammer. The last mention of it was in the early sixties, a few months after the Cuban Missile Crisis. It was apparently decommissioned then.”

“Where exactly is it?”

“See, that’s the funny thing. I’ve found nothing on that anywhere. I found the name. I know it existed. I’m just trying to pinpoint it now.”

Quinn stared down at the laptop, not really looking at the words on the screen. A secret facility? A secret decommissioned facility? That didn’t make Quinn feel very good. But it jibed with Hardwick’s story.

“All right,” Quinn said. “Keep at it. Also send what you’ve found to Peter. Maybe he can use his resources to dig something up.”

“Yeah,” Nate said. “I was going to suggest that.”

“Were you?” Quinn said.

Nate brought up a window on the laptop that had been hidden. “I’ve got the email ready to go.”

Quinn was impressed, but kept his face blank. Once again, he had taken to underestimating Nate.

“Send it,” he said. “I’m going to go check on Orlando.” He picked up the papers from where he’d left them on the counter. “Don’t stay up all night. I have a feeling we’re going to be on the move tomorrow.” He paused as he was about to walk out. “Nate. Good work.”

Downstairs he found Orlando in the same position she’d been in when he’d watched her fall asleep. She didn’t even twitch as he sat beside her and checked her pulse. Steady and strong. By all accounts she was doing fine.

It should have made him happy, but he was pissed that she was in this condition at all. The LP had taken the leg of his apprentice the year before, and they had come within inches of paralyzing the woman he loved. Whether it was the LP behind the shootings or not didn’t really matter. They were involved, and that was enough. Those sons of bitches had screwed with Quinn too much. He only wished there was something he could do about it.

He took his beer and the papers out onto the small balcony off the back of his bedroom. There was a chair, and a table, with a light plugged in to a socket at the base of the wall. Often a gentle breeze would move through the hills, but tonight the air was still.

He took another swig of his beer, then dove in. Though there were dozens of pages, most were painfully short on details. The first half-dozen items had been email exchanges, each no more than two lines long. The final one arranged for a meeting where Primus promised to hand over tangible information. Looking at the log Peter had sent along, this meeting took place in Philadelphia three weeks before the Ireland disaster.

The tangible info turned out to be an initial tracking report on someone identified at the time simply as Alpha, but who Hardwick claimed was Leo Tucker. The document was very similar to the one Peter had passed on to Orlando while they were still back east, only a little lighter on details. There was also a note from Primus.

Director Jackson,

For some time now I have trusted you with data I thought could be useful to you. From what I’ve been able to learn, you have used that information to avoid many potential incidents that could have been damaging to both our country and our friends. You have on numerous occasions asked me to tell you how I have been able to know what I know. To this point I have resisted, thinking that the information I’ve already given you should be proof that I have the country’s best interests at heart.

But I find now I must answer your question, and trust that your reaction will not negatively affect our working relationship. I tell you this thing so you know that I have sources that are unavailable to you through any other channel, but can be very useful to you. And I tell you this because I now find myself at odds with the very reason I have access to those sources.

I am well aware of your personal fight against an organization known as the LP. I know this because I am a member of that organization. Now before you send your people in search of me, let me say that you will never find me. You will never discover who I am. And if I sense there is an attempt to find out my identity and/or take me into custody, you will never hear from me again. I’m sure this is not a condition you would welcome.

The information I have been giving you has been accurate and excellent. And the information I want to pass on to you now is the same.

It is your choice. Consider the accompanying data as an act of good faith. The person identified at this point as Alpha is an agent for an organization that has been in contact with the LP. They wanted our help, but we have declined. Still, they are pressing on. I feel it is vitally important that they are not allowed to succeed. I’m sure you will feel the same. If you choose to continue our relationship, I will spell out why I’m telling you who I work for, and why Alpha is important to you.

Please send your response via the new email address I’ve listed below.

Primus

Quinn read the letter twice. Peter had been right. The DDNI hadn’t known about Hardwick’s LP affiliation for more than a couple months. According to the log, the DDNI hired the Office two days later.

Made sense. While Deputy Director Jackson might have wanted to continue his relationship with Primus, he wasn’t stupid. He knew he’d need help, but because of his previous experience with the LP, he didn’t know who he could be sure of in his own organization. Tasha Douglas, of course, but beyond that he would be taking risks. The Office had been an obvious choice. Peter had proven his trustworthiness.

And when Peter suggested using Quinn to keep tabs on the next meeting, a meeting that for safety reasons was to take place outside the States in Ireland, it would have made sense to the DDNI. Quinn, after all, had been the one to stop the LP’s assassination attempt in Singapore the previous year.