“Some rubber marks on the runway over there,” Daeng said, looking toward a spot just beyond the building. “No more than a week old.”
“We’re done out here, right?” Orlando said. “If I’m going to find where that plane went, I need a good Wi-Fi signal.”
Quinn nodded. “Yeah. I don’t want-”
“Hold on,” Daeng said.
“What?” Quinn asked.
“We seem to have picked up some interest.”
Quinn tensed.
“A car drove by a few times while you were inside,” Daeng said.
Frowning, Quinn said, “It was a dark blue Ford sedan, wasn’t it?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
CHAPTER 35
This time nate didn’t hearthe door to his cell open.
He had passed out, his mind in survival mode, cutting him off from all external input. What it couldn’t ignore, though, was the hand that grabbed his shoulder and shook.
Immediately, the pain that his unconsciousness had masked flooded back. Though it no longer felt like he was constantly being stabbed, the searing ache was almost worse.
“Get up,” Janus ordered.
He pulled on Nate’s arm as if he were going to roll him onto his back. Realizing this, Nate shoved the man’s hand away, and twisted up into a sitting position to avoid his wounds coming in contact with anything but air.
“You feeling better, I see. On your feet.”
“Why?” Nate croaked.
“You have appointment.”
No bag was placed over his head this time as Janus led him from the room and down the now-familiar stone hallway. Instead of taking him to the courtyard, though, Janus escorted him up an old staircase and out onto a large stone deck. For the first time, Nate was able to see beyond the walls of the building, but the view didn’t comfort him.
Water as far as he could see swept out from the building on three sides. The view of the fourth side was partially blocked by more of the stone building, allowing him to see only the hint of vegetation growing in that direction. At least it wasn’t more water.
“Keep moving,” Janus said with a nudge.
Janus half dragged him to a door at the edge of the terrace, pulled it open, and pushed Nate inside.
They went along a corridor, down a set of stairs, passed by several doorways, and into a room that was dimly lit despite the afternoon sun outside.
Harris was there, looking out at the ocean through a tinted window. There was an older, frail-looking man also present. He was sitting in a padded leather chair behind an ornate desk. In his hands was a tablet computer that he was watching intently while listening to whatever was playing through a set of earphones.
“Please have a seat, Mr. Quinn,” Harris said without turning around.
Janus gave Nate a push toward the guest chair in front of the desk, then let go of his arm. Nate staggered forward and had to grab the back of the chair to keep from falling down.
“Sit,” Janus said.
Exhausted, Nate did as ordered, sitting up as straight as he could so his wounds didn’t touch the back of the chair. Behind him, he heard Janus step out of the room and shut the door.
The old man’s gaze stayed fixed to the tablet, and he’d smile every few seconds. Behind him, Harris continued to stare out the window.
Nate used the silence to try to refocus his mind. He was in a hell of a lot of pain, and it wasn’t going away, but he couldn’t let it control him. If he did, he might as well give up. Which, of course, was not an option.
He steadied his breathing and channeled the pain to one part of his mind. He couldn’t make it completely disappear, but he was able to box it up enough to manage it. With each passing second of silence, more focus returned, so that when the old man finally set the computer down and pulled the earphones out of his ears, Nate’s mind was as sharp and ready as he could have hoped.
The man stared across his desk at Nate for a moment, then smacked his lips and closed the folder. “You are quite accomplished, Mr. Quinn,” the man said. Though he had an accent, he spoke English like he’d known it all his life. “What you do is almost like an art form, wouldn’t you say?”
He waited for Nate to respond, but Nate kept his mouth shut.
“Not like the others, I mean,” the man went on. “They have their specialties, but what you do takes a whole different mindset. The removal of the dead. The erasing of all signs that something had happened. Not just anyone could do that. Of all of you, you’re the one I come closest to regretting bringing here. Unfortunately, guilt by association is still guilt.”
Again he paused as if he expected Nate to say something, and again Nate disappointed him.
“This morning’s session was painful, I know. And I’m not going to lie to you. It’s only going to get worse.”
Nate almost kept silent again, but then decided, what the hell. “Thanks for the breaking news.”
A momentary spike of anger flashed across the old man’s eyes, but a second later he was smiling again. “I had you brought up here, as I did with all of your colleagues, to see if you understand why you are my guest.”
“That’s an easy answer. No.”
“I thought as much. Perhaps this will clear things up.” There was a pause that Nate was sure was meant to be dramatic. “Isla de Cervantes.”
Nate had heard of the place. Isla de Cervantes was a small but strategic island nation in the Caribbean Sea. The few pictures Nate remembered seeing of the place were the typical gorgeous beach shots like all the other islands in the region, but he’d never had reason to go there.
He stared at the man, his expression unchanged. “And?”
Once more, the hint of anger, then quick containment. “You have an actor’s face. I’m sure that comes in handy sometimes. But I’m told you have an excellent memory, which means there’s no way you could have forgotten.”
Nate ran the name through his mind, trying to recall if Quinn had ever mentioned it. He was pretty sure the answer was no. But that wasn’t surprising. His mentor had a way of not mentioning a lot of things.
“Maybe I remember. Maybe I don’t,” he said. “What does it matter? It’s not going to stop you from doing whatever it is you have planned.”
That was not what the old man wanted to hear. His chair scraped backward. Harris turned quickly around, and rushed over to help as the old man stood up.
“That’s right,” the man said. “It
“Was that the big reveal? That we’re all going to die? Shocking.”
“You! You’re not any better than the rest of them. You’re no artist. You’re a hack. A pretender.” He shot a glance at Harris. “Put me down!”
Harris eased the man back into his chair.
“Bring me the next one,” the man said.
“Janus!” Harris called out.
The big man reentered the room.
“Take him back and bring the next one,” Harris sneered.
Janus yanked Nate to his feet.
