“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”
The man twisted his head, mindful of the gun still pointed at him. “Leary William Leary.”
“You’re not lying to me, are you, William?”
“No, sir. Not lying.”
“And you’ll answer all my questions?”
“I’ll tell you everything I know.”
Quinn let him stand there for a moment longer, then nodded at Orlando to shut the door.
“So, William,” Quinn said after he returned the man to his seat. “What’s going on with the children?”
Leary looked between the three of them. “You have to understand, I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t know what I was getting into when they hired me, and by the time I got to the base it was too—”
“Orlando, get the door.”
“No! No!” Leary said.
“Then don’t lie to me, William. You knew what was going on. You were a part of it.”
William licked his lips. “I swear I didn’t know what was going on. Mr. Rose threatened to kill me if I didn’t help them.”
“Who is Mr. Rose?” Quinn asked.
“Mr. Rose?” Leary said, confused. “He’s the big boss.”
“The Australian?”
“That’s Tucker. He was in charge of manpower outside of the lab. Security, things like that. And I think he’s the one who brought the children here.”
“So, what? You answered an ad, and took the job without knowing what it was?”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
“You’re lying,” Orlando said. She was looking at the display on her phone.
“What are you talking about?” Leary said.
“Tell us about Wright Memorial Hospital,” she said.
He stared at her, unable to speak at first.
“Don’t remember that?” she asked. “Then how about Helene General Hospital? Or even the Rosen Medical Center.”
“How did you …” Leary’s voice dropped into silence.
Quinn looked at Orlando. The thumb scan she had done had apparently come up with gold.
“He’s a doctor,” she said. “Only he’s a little screwed up. Likes to sell drugs he took from work to schoolkids. Must have half a dozen aliases. Or did I get the wrong William Leary?”
The look on the man’s face told them she was right.
“What kind of doctor?” Quinn asked the man.
He hesitated, trying not to look at Orlando. “General practice.”
“Huh,” Orlando said. “Then they must have got it wrong on your record.”
“What’s it say?” Quinn asked.
“Says that Dr. Leary here is an anesthesiologist.”
“I–I haven’t done that for a while,” Leary stammered.
“How long is a while?” Quinn asked.
“I stopped a couple years ago, okay?”
“Stopped?” Orlando asked.
Leary let out a defeated breath. “My license was revoked. Happy? But then Mr. Rose found me. And he offered me a hell of a lot of money.”
“What did Mr. Rose want you to do?” Quinn asked.
“Keep the children sedated until we need them.”
“Need them for what?”
“You don’t know?” Leary said. “But isn’t that why you’re here?”
No one said anything.
Finally, Leary said, “As a diversion. To get the explosives in.”
No one said anything for nearly thirty seconds.
“What explosives?” Quinn asked.
“They’re built into the juice boxes,” Leary said. “Binary explosives. Clear liquid. Looks harmless.”
“How does it work?” Quinn asked.
“I didn’t work on them directly.”
“But you know,” Quinn said.
Leary looked away, then nodded. “I heard something.”
“What?”
“I was told the chemicals inside were kept in two different compartments inside the pouches. Apparently they’re only dangerous once the divider between them is removed and they mix together. The boxes will go in with the kids.”
“Into where?”
“That I don’t know.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Quinn said.
“I don’t! Really!”
Quinn stared at him, watching to see if he was lying. But he wasn’t. “How are the boxes triggered?”
The technician glanced at the floor. “One of the children,” he said. “One of the children is the trigger.”
Quinn heard Marion gasp, but she said nothing.
“How does it work?” Quinn asked.
“It… em … eh …”
Quinn’s hand shot out, shoving the man’s head against the wall.
“How does it work?” he repeated.
The man’s eyes were wild in fear; for a few seconds his gaze fell on Marion as if he were scared of her the most. “One of the children has the triggering device implanted in her thigh, just below the skin. It has to be activated first. A handheld device. I only saw it once, but it looked like a cell phone.”
“Who has it?”
“I don’t know. Mr. Rose or Tucker, I would guess.”
“So they activate it,” Orlando said. “Then what?”
Again he glanced momentarily at Marion. “When the trigger, the child, enters the room where the boxes are, a signal from her prompts the membrane inside to dissolve. Then thirty seconds later …”
“Jesus,” Orlando said.
“So one of the children is the trigger,” Quinn said.
Again the glance.
“Yes,” Leary said.
“Which one?”
No answer.
“Which one?”
“The new one,” Leary whispered, this time doing everything he could not to look at Marion. “The African girl.”
“Oh, God,” Marion said. “Oh, God, no.”
Quinn shot her a glance, and she grew quiet again.
“One of you was a surgeon?” Orlando asked.
“N-No,” Leary said.
A stillness filled the cabin before Orlando asked her next question. “Then who implanted the device in the girl?”
Leary dropped his chin to his chest. “Don’t make me answer that.” It was answer enough.
Quinn pushed the man’s head back up. “We need to know the target, William.”
“I told you, I have no idea,” Leary said. “I just know they needed the children to make it happen. They had to be special needs. Really, that’s all I know.”