The Cleaner (21 page)

'Twenty,' she said.

Five more than he'd asked for. 'Okay. I think I can cover most of this room with just seven.' Quinn had worked it out in his mind ahead of time, but now he was going to have to make an adjustment. 'I haven't had a look at the rest of the place yet, but based on the blueprints, let's say another eight for the back offices. That leaves five. One for outside the front door of the building. One for around back to cover the door there. One for directly across the street, and two for either end of the block. Shit, that's all of them.' He thought for a moment. 'Okay, maybe only seven for the rest of the building. That'll give me one I can put inside the sphere.'

'You're not going inside there,' Orlando said, surprised. 'If I get the feeling something's wrong, I'll just turn around and back out, okay?' 'That sounds like a great plan,' she replied, not hiding her displeasure. 'Glad you like it.'

It took him an hour to place the cameras throughout the building. Each was paired with a microphone that was really no more than a tiny disk attached to a piece of adhesive. As long as it was placed within ten feet of the camera, audio could also be picked up.

Seven cameras were still one shy for covering the two rooms per floor on the four floors in the back of the building, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He hid the booster in the attic, jamming it between the rafters where it would be hard to find. Duke had been right. The floor of the attic was definitely weak. More than once Quinn was worried that he might crash through.

When he was done, he headed back downstairs. There were six cameras left in his bag when he returned to the front room, five for outside the building and one for inside the sphere. Quinn walked over to the metal staircase that led up to the platform.

As he mounted it Orlando asked, 'Do you think you can make a little more noise?' She was undoubtedly watching him from one of the cameras he'd placed around the large room earlier. The stairs, though sturdy, were loose in their fittings. No matter how quietly Quinn tried to move, they clanked with every step.

He came to the short platform at the top of the stairs. Ahead of him was the entrance to what he'd started to think of as the air lock. Now that he was close to it, he could see that the material surrounding the sphere and the tube wasn't made from simple canvas. It was thicker and had an almost rubbery look to it.

The entrance to the tube was through a hard plastic doorway mounted in an equally sturdy frame. There didn't appear to be any lock. Quinn turned the knob and opened the door. 'I'm going into the tunnel,' he told Orlando.

Flashlight in hand, he stepped into the tube and shut the door behind him.

The inside was lined with a dark opaque material. As a test, he switched off his flashlight. He held his hand up in front of his face, but couldn't see it.

He switched the flashlight back on and proceeded forward along a narrow metal platform. Glancing at the ceiling of the tube, he realized there was something there he hadn't noticed before. Something colored the same matte black as that of the material that lined the tube. Not only was it on the ceiling, but it also covered the walls. Quinn took a step closer for a better look.

Thin rods, he realized. Made of some sort of sturdy yet flexible material that could bend with the shape of the structure. They formed a series of triangles that covered the whole inside of the tube. A geodesic skeleton of some sort?

Quinn continued moving forward. At the far end was another door similar to the one he had just passed through. As he approached it, a green light set into the door frame at eye level came on. The light was about the size of a half-dollar. He guessed it must have been triggered by a motion sensor.

'I'm going into the sphere itself now,' Quinn said. He reached for the handle and opened the door. There was a rush of air as he carefully stepped over the threshold. Once inside, he pushed the door closed behind him.

Almost immediately, his ears popped. It only took a moment for the meaning to register on him. His ears had
popped.
Not only that, but the rush of air when he entered, hadn't it been moving in
with
him? He turned back to the door and opened it again. There was another rush of air, not as strong as before, but definitely moving
into
the sphere from the tube.

Quinn closed the door again, then played the light along the inside surface of the sphere. It was identical to that of the tube: black opaque material, and the same metal skeletal structure. It all added up to one thing. The air pressure in the sphere
was
lower than that outside.

'Jesus Christ,' he muttered.

'What's wrong?'

He told Orlando what he'd found.

'Okay, don't panic,' she said.

'I'm not panicking.' He took a deep breath.

His original instinct had been correct. The place was a classic bio-secure zone. Quinn turned around, putting his back to the door and shining his light toward the center of the space. The platform he was standing on extended out another ten feet. At the other end of the platform was a door to a structure that looked like a large square box. It was what he had expected to find. A stand-alone containment room. Undoubtedly the pressure inside it was even lower than that in the sphere. It would be the place in which the real work was done.

Peeking over the edge of the platform, Quinn could see the whole thing was sitting on an elaborate metal scaffolding tower that plunged downward into the bowels of the sphere. He allowed himself to relax a little. If there were deadly bio-agents inside the containment room, he should still be safe where he was.

They had been looking for a link to the disruption, but what they'd found was a link to the deaths in Colorado. The bracelet. The slide and now this? It was too much to ignore. And though he didn't have the proof yet, Quinn was sure it all tied into the disruption.

'Take some pictures of the setup here. I want to send them to Peter when I get back, okay?' Orlando didn't answer. Quinn tapped the receiver in his ear. 'Orlando, did you hear me?'

Still nothing. 'Nate, are you there?'

The only thing Quinn heard was his own breathing. There was a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. 'Orlando?' Silence.

'Orlando?'

No response.

Then he heard something. Not over his receiver, but from somewhere beyond the walls of the sphere. It was the clank of metal on metal.

Someone was coming up the scaffolding stairs.

Chapter 20

Quinn looked left, then right. But he already knew what he'd find. The only way out was the way he'd come in.
It's a goddamn trap,
he thought.
And I'm right where they want me.

'Son of a bitch,' he said under his breath.

Outside, the sound of steps moving up the stairs continued. Soon they'd reach the platform and the tunnel that led into the sphere. Had Quinn been anywhere else in the building, he would have had multiple opportunities for escape. But standing where he was, his options were severely limited.

He stopped himself. There was one possibility. There had been a door in the housing at the bottom of the sphere. He wasn't sure if he could get there from where he was, but trying was better than just standing there and waiting for them to arrive.

Quinn hurried across the platform toward the door to the containment room, stopping and kneeling down just before he reached it. He looked over the edge of the narrow walkway into the space below.

The crisscrossing scaffolding structure he'd glanced at moments earlier led down into the darkness at the bottom of the sphere. It would be easy to climb down. He quickly pointed his flashlight at the very bottom, and though it was hard to tell for sure, there appeared to be some kind of hatch on the floor. His best guess was that it led down into the circular base structure where the other door was located.

Potential escape was there, but he'd never make it in time. He'd be spotted by whoever was coming up the stairs before he was even halfway down.

He looked under the platform again.

Okay. Escape might be impossible, he thought.
But what if
–

The clanging of the metal steps ceased.

There was no more time to think. Quinn stowed his flashlight and quickly lowered himself over the edge of the platform. Moving as silently as he could, he maneuvered his body underneath it.

He paused for a fraction of a second to get his bearings, then worked his way across the scaffolding, using it like a kid's jungle gym. When he was directly under the center of the bio-containment room, he stopped.

He could feel the sweat beading on his brow, and his breaths were coming in short, silent bursts. But he knew just hanging from the center of the room wasn't enough-

He pulled his feet up and secured them on top of one of the crossbars, tucking himself horizontally against the bottom of the room. He wasn't invisible, but it was the closest he could get to it.

He heard the door to the sphere open. There was a rush of air, followed by the sound of two people stepping through the opening and onto the platform. A pause, followed by a low voice, then a flicker of brightness. The new arrivals were scanning the space with a flashlight. Quinn could see the reflection of the beam as it occasionally slipped below the level of the platform and glinted off the scaffolding.

After several moments, the footsteps continued across the platform, to the door of the lab. There was a sucking sound as the door was opened and air moved from one space to another. A moment later the door shut.

Quinn's left calf had begun to cramp. He chanced moving his leg to relieve the pressure and had just found a more comfortable position when the door to the lab opened again. Then: 'One, this is Matz. The sphere is empty.'

The voice spoke German, clear and distinct. Matz was apparently talking into a radio. It was also obvious by the unhampered sound of his voice that he was not wearing any protective gear over his face. To Quinn it meant the lab wasn't hot yet. He would have felt a sense of relief if he hadn't been hanging dozens of feet above the ground wondering how long it would be before a bullet pierced his skull.

The radio crackled with static, then a voice, also in German but not with a native accent, said, 'You checked everywhere?'

'Yes,' Matz replied. "There is no one here but us.'

'Underneath?' the voice asked.

Another pause. Then Matz said, 'We're checking now.'

Quinn tensed. There was nothing he could do except remain perfectly still. He couldn't even grab his gun without upsetting his balance.

Suddenly, the flashlight beam swung over the edge of the platform. There was a thump, and Quinn guessed that one of the men was kneeling down so he could get a better look below. The beam of light flashed across the scaffolding close to Quinn as it traveled down toward the bottom of the sphere. Once there, it moved slowly across the floor, taking in every inch.

'I don't see anything,' a voice said. Not Matz this time, but his partner.

'Are you sure?' Matz asked.

'You want to look?'

'One, this is Matz. There's no one below.'

'He has to be in the building somewhere,' the voice on the radio said, his irritation coming through clearly. 'He hasn't come outside yet.'

'Maybe his partner warned him,' Matz offered.

'Not a chance. Get out of there and go out back in case the others are able to flush him out.' 'Understood.' Quinn listened as the two men walked across the

platform above him and exited the sphere.

Quinn remained hanging under the platform, as still as possible, for what he guessed to be about thirty minutes. Eyes closed, his breathing even, he silently recited the lyrics to the songs on
Changes One,
David Bowie's first greatest-hits album.

Halfway through 'John, I'm Only Dancing,' his leg cramped again. He flexed his foot back and forth, easing the pressure on his calf. But neither Bowie nor the pain in his leg could clear his mind.

The operation had really gone to shit.
It's the disruption all over again,
he thought. Only this time, it was obvious who had set them up.

Duke.

'Fuck conspiracy theories,' Durrie had said. 'The obvious is right ninety-nine percent of the time.'

From the moment Duke had sent Quinn the e-mail, it had been a setup. The only reason he hadn't been taken out the minute Duke had him in his car was that they wanted to get Quinn's entire team.

Quinn's eyes narrowed. Did that mean Peter was involved in the deception, too? After all, he was the one who had pushed Quinn to come to Berlin. Taking it a step further, could that then mean Peter was involved in the disruption of his own organization?

A chill passed through Quinn, but he couldn't bring himself to fully believe it. Whatever the truth was, he wasn't going to figure it out hanging here. He'd waited long enough. It was time to move.

The interior of the sphere was in complete darkness, but he couldn't chance using his flashlight. He eased himself down the scaffolding by touch, careful to transfer his weight from one point to the next slowly, cutting down on any unnecessary noise. Finally, his feet touched bottom.

No longer able to minimize the risk, he pulled out his flashlight. Before turning it on, he put his hand over the lens to better control the beam. Once he flipped the switch, his palm glowed a reddish yellow.

He played the light across the floor. Black hard plastic, molded to fit the bottom of the sphere. He was standing on top of the pedestal he'd seen from the outside. That put him approximately seven feet above actual ground level.

Off to his right was something that looked like a submarine hatch. It was set into the floor and hinged to lift upward. The only thing missing was a handle to open it. Instead, there were two buttons set into the center of the door. One red, one green.

Quinn pushed the green button. For half a second, nothing happened. Then the seal on the door released and Quinn was able to pull it open. Again, air rushed past him into the sphere.