“Let me show you something,” he said.
He walked to the computer on the desk, pulled over the chair Quinn had vacated, then sat down. By the time Quinn, Orlando, and Nate had moved in behind him, he’d already minimized the surveillance images on the screen and replaced them with a spreadsheet. It was broken down into four columns. There were locations listed down the left-hand column, dates in the center two, and two- to four-digit numbers in the right.
“What is this?” Quinn asked.
“Inside the envelope you brought back from Ireland was a jump drive.” A tiny flash memory card able to hold multiple gigs of data. “There were only four files on it. This was one of them.”
“Looks like an itinerary,” Orlando said.
“Yes,” Peter said.
“How the hell does this tie into what happened tonight?” Quinn asked.
Peter glanced at Quinn. “The DDNI hired us a month ago for a special project. He’d been approached by a source claiming to have information about a potential terrorist operation.”
“Jesus, Peter. Every source says they have information about a potential terrorist operation,” Quinn said. “It’s the in thing.”
“That’s why the DDNI hired us instead of using his resources at CIA,” Peter said. “He wanted to keep it quiet. Our job was to coordinate meetings with Primus, then check out the info he handed over.”
“I’m sorry. Who?”
“Primus. It’s the code name for the DDNI’s source,” Peter said. “If it turned out the information was good, the DDNI would bring in his people at that point.”
Peter’s story made sense. Much of Washington’s behind-the-scenes work these days was outsourced to private companies. In this post-9/11 world, there just wasn’t enough manpower to handle everything. Even wars were outsourced to companies like Blackwater and Halliburton.
“Are you saying the meeting in Ireland was with the DDNI’s source?” Nate asked. “Because if it was, he’s dead. We all watched him get shot.”
A year ago, Quinn would have given his apprentice a look that would have told Nate to keep quiet. For the most part, that wasn’t necessary anymore. Nate’s questions now were more often than not the same questions Quinn would have asked.
Peter shook his head. “The meeting concerned Primus, yes, but we never met with him directly. The men you saw killed were his go-betweens. Up until that point, the information Primus had been feeding us was pretty solid. Nothing big, just things meant to build trust. The package from Ireland was supposed to be the first about the specific operation Primus had told the DDNI about.” He nodded at the screen. “This itinerary is the movements of one of the terrorist agents.”
“What have you learned from it?” Orlando asked.
“That this guy has made a lot of trips to a lot of different places. Mostly third world.”
“Who is he?”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“Do you know what they’re planning?” Quinn asked.
“No.”
Before Quinn could say anything else, Peter held up a hand, stopping him.
“Primus was supposed to feed us the rest of the information over two additional meetings. The first was to take place two nights ago. And the last, next Thursday.”
“Sounds like the one two nights ago didn’t happen,” Quinn said.
“After Ireland, Primus got scared. He sent a message canceling both upcoming meets. But we knew we needed the information. It seemed like he might actually be onto something. So the DDNI sent a message back using an emergency contact system we had in place. He was able to convince Primus to meet with him personally, one-on-one. Nobody liked the idea, but it seemed like the only thing we could do.”
“You watched him, of course,” Orlando said.
“We did the best we could. The meeting took place here in New York. Grand Central Terminal. That was Primus’s suggestion.”
Same type of location Quinn would have suggested in similar circumstances. A large, public facility with plenty of nooks and crannies for a quick, private chat.
“We lost the DDNI there. That was three days ago.”
“Didn’t he at least have a tracking bug on him?” Quinn asked.
“Of course he did,” Peter snapped. “Sewn in the cuff of his pants. But it had been cut out and dropped in a trash can on Fifth Avenue.”
“So your valuable source kidnapped him? Was he setting him up the whole time?”
Peter took a breath, then said, “We don’t think he did it. Primus contacted us that night, wondering what the hell happened, why the DDNI hadn’t shown up. He could have been just playing with us, but we don’t think so. We think the same people who sent the assassin to Ireland are the ones who grabbed Deputy Director Jackson and killed him.”
The room became still.
“How does it tie in to the building today?” Orlando asked.
Peter turned back to the computer and opened another document. “Primus sent us a list of locations in New York he thought might be of interest.”
The displayed list had at least two dozen places on it. Quinn spotted the address of the abandoned apartment building a little more than halfway down.
“How did he come up with this?” Quinn asked.
“We don’t know.”
“Peter, for God’s sake, you still trust this guy? It sounds to me like he was in on it.”
“We’re convinced otherwise,” Peter said. “Our priority now is to get the rest of the information from him so we can judge if we have a credible threat on our hands or not.”
“The DDNI is dead,” Quinn said. “You have a credible threat, all right. You’ve been talking to him.” He paused. “And, you know what? Right now, shouldn’t your number one priority be getting me out of trouble?”
“I have a question,” Nate said.
They all turned to him.
“Am I the only one wondering why Peter is telling us all this? I mean, no offense or anything, but usually you don’t tell us anything. Am I wrong?”
Quinn could feel his gut clench. He would have noticed, too, if the evening’s events hadn’t pissed him off so much. He had come into Peter’s room expecting to get answers, and answers he got. But now he realized why.
Peter must have seen it in Quinn’s eyes. “Number three,” he said.
“No,” Quinn said.
“Are you going back on the deal? No questions. You’re the one who offered that condition. That means you take whatever I give you.”
Quinn could feel Orlando and Nate tense behind him, everyone realizing the fate they were about to receive.
“Here it is,” Peter said. “Job number three. You help me get the information Primus knows, then help me stop it if necessary.”
“That’s two jobs,” Quinn said, regretting more than ever the deal he’d made.
“It’s one if I say it’s one,” Peter said. “The condition was no questions.”
There was a low, short hum followed by another a second later. Peter reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He flipped it open.
“Yes?” Peter said, then listened for a moment. “All right. Stay there.” He closed the phone, then looked at Quinn. “So what’s it to be? Are you going to stand by your word? Or do I need to let people know you’re unreliable?”
In Quinn’s world, reputation was everything. He was pretty sure he could weather whatever negative PR Peter put out there, but it would still hurt. More important, though, Quinn considered himself a man of his word. If Peter wished to pervert a promise made out of necessity, there was nothing Quinn could do but go along with
