“The camera’s clock could be off,” Peter suggested.
“No way. It’s synced with my computers, which are synced with the network. That time’s actual.”
“There’s still two more,” the man reminded them.
Peter nodded. “Let’s see them.”
The next was of one of the two people who’d left earlier coming back. The final was the wide-hat woman again, her face never once turning toward the lens.
“Oh, my God,” Hagen said. “She must have still been here when I came back.” He looked at Peter. “But…but you do see. It wasn’t me.”
Peter remained silent.
Hagen grew nervous again. “That wasn’t me! I wasn’t here!”
“No,” Peter said. “You’re right. It wasn’t you.”
Hagen’s shoulders sagged as he let out a relieved breath.
“But there is still the fact that whoever that woman is, she was able to get into your apartment and use your equipment as if she had a key to the place.”
“What? No. I don’t know who that was! I don’t! I swear I don’t!”
Peter was tired of hearing Hagen’s whines. He knew very well that the Swede had no idea who the person was, but his machines had been used, and that was a problem.
“There is very little room in our world for mistakes,” Peter said. “And no room for someone who doesn’t learn from them. I believe a lesson is in order.”
“No! No! That’s not nec-”
Peter cut the connection. Michaels would know what to do. If Hagen decided to stay in the business, he would undoubtedly be working from a fortress in the future.
“So?” Olsen asked. He was sitting off to the side so that the camera wouldn’t pick him up, but at an angle that allowed him to watch what was going on.
“It was her,” Peter said.
“Are you sure?”
“Do I have proof, you mean? No. But it was her. The size is right, and she’s the only one who would want to get into that file.”
Mila Voss, again.
Something ticked at the back of his mind. He brought up the file on her removal operation-still labeled COMPLETED — and searched the background information until he reached the part he was looking for. Just as he remembered. But was it worth checking out? With no other leads, what choice did he have?
He made a mental note of the particulars, then exited the file and stood up.
“I’m going out for a smoke,” he told Olsen. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I wasn’t aware that you smoked.”
Peter pulled the half-used pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, and jostled one out. “Not as much as I used to, but sometimes…well…”
“Fine, but don’t be long. I want you here when I call the senator with an update.”
Peter left the room without another word.
“I’ll be right back,” he said to Misty. He then silently communicated to her that she was to contact him if Olsen followed him out.
Before he even reached the sidewalk the cigarettes were back in his pocket. It had been over ten years since he’d actually lit one, but he’d purchased the pack that morning, knowing it would provide the opportunity for a little alone time if needed.
Once outside, he went left to the end of the block and ducked into a bar around the corner. There were only a few customers in the place, none of whom even glanced in his direction. When the bartender saw him, he merely gave Peter a nod of recognition then went about his business.
Peter walked clear through to the back, and entered the bathroom. It was a single-occupant setup, so he locked the door, pulled out his phone, and called Michaels.
“Are you still with Hagen?” he asked.
“We’re just emphasizing a few points,” Michaels replied. “Should be done soon.”
“Wrap it up. There’s somewhere else you need to be,” Peter said, then gave Michaels his new instructions.
CHAPTER 14
ROME, ITALY
The flight from Bangkok took about eleven hours, touching down at Fiumicino Airport outside Rome just before ten p.m. local time.
A cab took them to a hotel Quinn knew about, not far from the reason they had come to the city. So far, neither Daeng nor Nate had asked him, why Rome? Daeng because that just seemed to be the way he was, and Nate because he had worked with Quinn long enough to know when to ask questions and when not to. That was why Quinn’s earlier confrontation with his former apprentice had been so surprising. Sure, Nate had stood up to him once or twice in the past, but Quinn had always won. Nate was obviously not content to let that happen anymore.
Though it hadn’t been part of Quinn’s plan-what little plan he’d had when he’d gone into his self-imposed exile-his absence had apparently provided the final push Nate needed to move beyond his training phase. Quinn had called him an equal before, but their relationship had still been largely defined by their teacher-student past.
Clearly that was over.
The St. Apollina Hotel was in a quiet part of the city filled with old apartment buildings and shops that closed early every evening. The hotel was a small, family-run business with a dozen or so rooms. A call before leaving the airport guaranteed that a room with two beds and a couch would be held for them.
“Don’t get comfortable,” Quinn said once they were in the room. “There’s a place near here we need to check. Wash up, do whatever you need.” He glanced at his watch. “Let’s say ten minutes, okay?”
It only took six before they were heading out again.
They walked up the hill for several minutes, over three streets, then up again for another two and a half blocks.
“There,” Quinn whispered, nodding at a building just down the street and on the other side.
It was a four-story stone building that looked to be at least a hundred years old. While obviously maintained, it looked tired, like it just wanted to take a nap. There was a central, unlit entrance at street level, and six windows each on the floors above it. Light shone from a window on the third floor, but the others were all dark, their occupants either asleep or not home.
“The apartment we’re interested in is on the second floor in the back,” Quinn told them.
“Anyone inside we need to worry about?” Nate asked.
Quinn shook his head.
“What’s the play?”
Quinn looked up and down the street. It was quiet, no one else out. “Daeng, find someplace to hide where you can keep an eye on things. If anyone is even just walking by, let us know.”
“Got it,” Daeng said.
Quinn looked at Nate. “You and I are going to take a look around.”
Nate followed Quinn across the street to the old wooden door that served as the building’s entrance. Instead of a keyhole they could pick, there was a numbered security pad for residents to punch in a code. It seemed out of character for the building, but not for the times.
With the right equipment, they could bypass the pad and release the lock, but equipment was something they were currently lacking. Nate was about to suggest they look for an alternate way in when Quinn simply punched in
