Got her out. Looking for place to lay low.
Julien working diversion.
“What are you doing?” Liz asked.
“Responding to your brother,” he said. “He wants to know what’s going on.”
She hesitated, then asked, “You really work for him?”
“Yes.”
“And that other guy, he works for my brother, too?”
“Sometimes, I guess,” Nate said.
“You guess?”
“Yesterday was the first time I met him.”
She was quiet for a while. “What exactly is it my brother does?”
“I think maybe he should answer that one.”
“But he’s not here. You are.”
Nate had no response for that, so he kept his mouth shut.
They rode in silence, stopping at several stations before Liz suddenly sat straight up. “My mother. If people were coming after me, do you think someone might go after her also?”
“We have people watching her, too. She’ll be fine.”
“She can’t run like me,” Liz said. “If they get close, she won’t be able to get away.”
“Your brother won’t let that happen.”
“He let that happen with me,” she snapped.
Several of the passengers at the other end of the car looked over. But they soon returned to their own worlds when it was apparent a yelling match wasn’t about to break out.
After several seconds of silence, Liz whispered, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Nate said. “I’d be mad, too.”
“I need to ask you something.”
Nate gave her a sideways glance. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing?”
That drew out just the barest of smiles on her face.
“Is Jake a criminal?”
Nate had to catch himself from laughing. “No,” he said. “Well, I guess it depends on how you look at things. Some people might think so. But no, he’s no criminal.”
“That’s not exactly a clear answer.”
Nate thought for a moment, then said, “Your brother is one of the most honorable people I know. If he gives someone his word, he doesn’t break it. I’d trust him with my life any day of the week.” Nate paused for a moment. “He’s not the easiest person to get to know. And he doesn’t have a lot of close friends. But that’s not because he’s not a good person. He is. He cares more than he ever shows. He’s just … Quinn.”
“There’s that name again. Quinn.”
“It’s his name now.”
“Jake Oliver wasn’t good enough for him?”
“In our world it’s safer to create a new identity. Hell, until just before I met you, I didn’t know him by anything
She scrutinized him again. “So you’re saying your name really isn’t even Nate?”
He smiled. “It depends.”
“On what?”
“On if we’re talking about before or after I started working for your brother.”
Just then the train began to slow as they pulled in to a new station. Nate looked out the window. A sign on the wall said
“Our stop,” he said.
He stood up and walked toward the door.
“Movement,” Orlando said.
She was at the dining room table, her laptop in front of her. Quinn moved in behind her. The image on the screen showed the blue dot representing Nate’s phone moving west from Liz’s apartment. But was Liz with him? For that matter, had they been taken or were they still free?
Quinn pulled out his phone.
“You still shouldn’t call him,” Orlando said.
“I’m not calling. I’m texting.”
Orlando rolled her eyes as he brought up the virtual keyboard and tapped in one word.
Update
He hit Send. If he didn’t hear back within the next thirty minutes, they’d go to Paris whether it was a bad idea or not.
Orlando’s phone began to ring. She looked at the display, then at Quinn. “It’s Scott Bethel.” Bethel was the person in Moscow she’d asked to follow up on the Stepka lead. She hit Accept. “Hold on, Scott. I’m putting you on speaker.”
She set the phone down next to her computer and touched the screen.
“Okay,” she said. “What have you learned?”
“I found this Stepka guy in an apartment full of highend computer gear,” Bethel said. “Didn’t want to talk at first. But he’s the soft type.”
“Did you hurt him?” Quinn asked.
“Didn’t have to,” Bethel said. “I don’t think he goes out much.” Bethel’s specialty was getting in and out of places unseen. Though he wasn’t large like Julien, he was solid, and could be intimidating if he wanted to.
“Where is he now?”
“Sitting in front of me.”
“What?”
“I’m in his apartment. We just had a nice little talk. But I thought you might want to hear directly from him what he had to say.”
“I’d love to.”
“Let me put him on speaker.” There was a bit of static, then Bethel said in a voice more distant than before, “All right, Stepka. Why don’t you tell my friend what you just told me?”
Silence.
“Stepka. My name is Quinn. Jonathan Quinn. I believe you were doing a little research on me. I’d like to know why.”
More silence.
“So you’re not going to talk to my friend?” Bethel asked. “Maybe this will change your mind.”
There was a loud crash and the sound of something breaking into several pieces.
“No, don’t!” a voice yelled. English with a Russian accent. Stepka.
“What was that?” Quinn asked.
“This kid’s got more computer equipment jammed in here than most IT departments I’ve seen. Well, a little less than he had a moment ago.” Bethel paused. “How about we try this monitor now?”
“No! No, I will talk.”
“Then talk.”
“Mr. Quinn. I … I was only checking on you because … because you have been getting in our way.”
“In your way of what?” Quinn asked.
“Our search for the Ghost.”
“The Ghost?”
“His real name is Palavin. Former KGB. A butcher.”
That jibed with both what Orlando had uncovered and what the Russian woman had claimed. “Why are you
