“That’s what he goes by now. Trevor Robb.”
The name Petra was so desperate to know, Quinn thought. “Go on.”
“When …
“So he came to you for money, is that it?”
“Yes. He agreed to share what he knew in exchange for enough cash to make him wealthy, and the promise that we would provide whatever protection he deemed necessary for the remainder of his life.”
“That’s a pretty steep price.”
“Apparently his information more than compensated for his demands at the time.”
“But not now,” Quinn said.
“He hasn’t been an active asset for us for many years. I understand he still tries to keep his fingers in things, but nothing we would be interested in. Then we heard from him a little over a month ago that his life was in danger, and that we were bound by our agreement to protect him. He was an inactive client I inherited from previous case officers, so it fell to me to arrange what he wanted. I talked with his representative, who laid out their plan, and instantly I knew it was something MI6 couldn’t touch. I took it to my superiors, thinking they’d instruct me to tell Mr. Robb to go to hell. But they didn’t. They agreed we shouldn’t be directly involved, but they felt it was important we stick to the deal. There are British interests at stake. It was decided that we would pass it on to one of our contractors, giving them a story that they would find plausible.”
“David Wills, and suitcase bombs for North Korea?” Quinn said.
“You’ve figured a lot out.”
Another connection surfaced in Quinn’s head. “Did you set him up with a computer information specialist, too? Someone to dig into the histories of those working for him?”
She looked away. “That … that we kept in-house. One of our top hackers was assigned to the project.”
Quinn stared at her in disbelief. “You’re telling me your little group there at MI6 is responsible for the danger my … people are facing?”
“Whatever Palavin’s done with the information is all on him,” she said quickly. “We had no idea what he wanted it for.”
“No idea?” he yelled. “That does
“Hey, everything all right in there?” Orlando asked through the door.
“Fine,” Quinn shot back. He locked eyes with Annabel. “If anything happens to them,
She sucked in a nervous breath, but said nothing.
Quinn allowed himself a moment to calm down, then said, “Once you passed the job onto Wills, why didn’t you just let it go then?”
Her lips trembled slightly as she spoke. “This wasn’t something that was furthering national security. It was eating me up. When I found out Palavin had planted a man on Wills’s teams, I knew I had to do something.”
“Wait. Planted?”
“A man named Mercer.”
“Mercer? David said Mercer was his man.”
“Cover story. Mercer’s mission, as I later found out, was to not only make sure the targets were neutralized, but also to liquidate the strike teams after each mission. Donovan and his men, they’re all dead now. The same is true for Freeman in Los Angeles and the people he was working with.”
“What?” Quinn said, shocked. “They’re all dead?”
Annabel looked at the floor, then nodded.
Quinn was silent for several seconds as he let it all soak in. Finally, he said, “Mercer was at the park after Wills was killed. My Russian friends in there think that Palavin was responsible. Are they right?”
She nodded. “We’re almost positive. The dead woman in the park is a freelancer Palavin has been in contact with before. We think she’d been hired to tie up loose ends.”
Quinn shook his head. “Then why didn’t she wait until I showed up? I’m a loose end, too.”
“You showed up?”
“He was in the park to meet me.”
She stared at him. “We didn’t know that, and Palavin probably didn’t know that either. If he did, he would surely have had her wait.”
If Wills hadn’t told anyone who he was meeting at the park, Quinn thought, only that he was going there …
Then it hit him. Mercer.
Wills had undoubtedly used him for security. Except instead of watching Wills’s back, Mercer had let Palavin know the plan.
Then he realized something else. The body removal from the Alexander Grant Building, the job most anyone could do, now he understood why Palavin wanted him to do it. It was meant to be Quinn’s last job. Once he turned the remains over, he would be eliminated, too.
“If Palavin’s so afraid of being uncovered, why doesn’t he disappear again?”
“Disappear? You don’t understand him at all. He spent decades preparing his post — Soviet Union identity, and even more decades living it. He’s not going to give up the life he created that easily. And with the support of his agreement with British intelligence, his ego is large enough that he feels he doesn’t have to, that he can rid himself of the problem with several well-placed bullets.” She shook her head. “He’s a monster. All these people he killed in Moscow, we should have never helped him cover that up.”
“Spare me your guilt.” He paused for a moment, then said, “So I’m the only one left on the Ghost’s removal list.”
“Not after he finds out what I’ve done to help you.”
“You, Ms. Taplin, already have plenty of blood on your hands. Being on his list is the least of your problems. But if you’re interested in staying alive and seeing what karma has in store for you in the future, then I suggest you continue being helpful.”
Ten minutes later, Quinn reentered the bedroom. This time he left the door open.
He looked at Petra. “To answer your question, I’ll help under one condition.”
She looked surprised. “Anything you want.”
“This is non-negotiable.”
A hint of caution entered her voice. “What is your condition?”
“I’m in charge,” he said. “Because I’m going after him no matter what, and unless you’re with me, you’re in my way.”
“Only if you promise we take him alive.”
He frowned. “I can’t make that promise.”
Petra said nothing for several seconds. Then she nodded. “All right.”
Chapter 42
“Nothing cute,” Quinn said. “Keep to the script.”
He and Annabel were the only ones left in his room at the Silvain. Orlando had gone upstairs with Petra and Mikhail into one of their rooms to arrange for the extra help Quinn’s plan would need. Petra had said she knew someone who could provide the men, but Quinn didn’t trust her enough yet to make the contact on her own.
“Don’t worry,” Annabel said. “I know what to do.”
He held his phone out to her. It was attached via wire to his laptop. Orlando had started a program that would make the call look like it was coming from a cell phone inside the Wright Bains building.
She dialed a number, then held the phone up to her ear.
