The Silenced

He watched as Wills continued down the path, killing time. Quinn was just about to go out and meet him when he noticed a woman sitting on one of the benches. She was trying very hard not to look at Wills. Just as the Englishman passed her, she did glance up. Quinn could see her face.

She had a look that seemed almost … predatory.

Chapter 26

Where was the backup? Quinn wondered. Had Wills thought the meet was safe enough to bring only the man he’d left out by the entrance?

Quinn brought up Wills’s number on his phone and called his client. He could hear the line ringing, but Wills continued undisturbed down the path.

Could he not have his phone?

But then Wills paused and reached into his jacket. When his hand reappeared, it was holding his cell.

He looked at the display.

* * *

Just a few more seconds, Petra told herself.

Wills had just passed her position. A couple more feet and she could get behind him before he’d even realize it. From that position she’d be in control.

She tensed her legs, ready to push herself up.

Then abruptly Wills stopped.

Petra remained on the bench, waiting for him to start walking again. But instead he pulled a phone out of his pocket, checked the screen, then raised it to his ear.

“Quinn? Are you—”

* * *

As soon as Wills lifted the phone to his ear, Quinn could see the woman start to rise off her bench.

“Quinn? Are you—”

“Watch out,” Quinn said, cutting Wills off. “Behind you.”

* * *

Petra sensed movement to her left.

She turned and saw the woman who had been sitting on the other bench jump up and start running toward Wills.

No! she thought.

* * *

Quinn watched as Wills ducked to the right and moved off the path through a gap between two of the benches.

The woman raced after him, in her hand a suppressor-enhanced pistol.

Wills had turned toward her and, from under his jacket, was pulling out his own weapon, bringing it to bear on the woman.

But then Quinn saw him hesitate.

The cause was a second woman right in the fire zone.

And she seemed … familiar.

Son of a bitch, he thought. It’s the Russian.

He glanced back to where he’d last seen Wills, but the Englishman had slipped down behind the row of benches, out of view.

His attacker moved quickly toward the gap Wills had passed through, then pulled the trigger on her gun.

Thup.

One of the benches exploded in a spray of wood chunks and splinters.

The attacker rushed through the gap, seeking a clear shot at her target. But as she did the Russian threw something at her. A bag.

It hit the attacker’s hands just as she was pulling the trigger, ripping the gun from her grip, sending it flying. Before she could even react, the Russian rammed into her, shoulder first, carrying her through the gap and down onto the grass.

Where’s Wills? Quinn thought. And where the hell is his backup?

The Englishman had yet to reappear from behind the bench. Now would be the perfect opportunity to make a move, but Wills didn’t seem to be taking it.

Screw it.

Quinn pushed himself out from his hiding spot and sprinted into the park. As he neared the benches, he could see the attacker trying to pull herself from the Russian’s grasp, her eyes searching for her gun. The Russian hit her in the face, then twice hard in the gut.

Quinn jagged to his left through the gap in the benches, then pulled to a quick stop. Now he knew why Wills hadn’t made his move.

Quinn’s client was lying on the grass, blood all over his neck and shirt. His gun lay several feet away.

Quinn knelt beside him. The bullet had entered Wills’s neck just left of his windpipe. By the angle of entry, Quinn was willing to bet it had also hit Wills’s spinal cord. He wasn’t dead, but he soon would be.

Quinn picked up the gun, then leaned down next to Wills’s face. The Englishman’s eyes were half closed and unfocused, but he seemed to realize someone was there.

“Just relax,” Quinn said.

“Quinn?” Wills’s voice raspy.

“Everything’s all right.”

Quinn heard footsteps walking toward him. Without looking up, he raised Wills’s gun.

“Close enough,” he said.

The footsteps halted.

Quinn glanced over and wasn’t surprised to see it was the Russian. He also wasn’t surprised to see the other woman’s gun in her hand, pointed at him.

“Are you here to take his body away, too?” she asked.

Wills coughed. Blood was coming out of his mouth, but his gaze was still on Quinn. He tried to say something. Quinn couldn’t make it out, so he leaned closer.

“Care … ful,” Wills said.

“David, do you know who’s responsible for this?” Wills coughed again.

“It’s okay. Don’t force it.”

Wills coughed again, then looked at Quinn as if he was begging for help.

Another wet breath.

Then … nothing.

David Wills was dead. And if he knew the woman who’d killed him or who she worked for, he’d taken that information with him.

Quinn stood up, his gun still pointed at the Russian. Behind her he could see the other woman, the attacker, sprawled out on the grass, her dead eyes staring up at the sky.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“Who are you?” she countered.

In the distance, he could hear sirens heading in their direction.

The Russian lowered her gun and motioned behind her. “You were with her, weren’t you? She is probably one of Palavin’s dogs, and you work for Palavin, too.”

Palavin? That was the name Orlando had mentioned. He hesitated before he spoke. “I don’t work for anyone by that name. But if he’s responsible for David’s death, then maybe you’re the one who works for him.”

The look on her face was utter shock. “What? Of course not. I’m trying to find him. But you know him, don’t