The Deceived (36 page)

The beauty of the bug was that Orlando could power it up and down remotely, so unless someone was doing a sweep while she was using it, there was a good chance it would go undetected. That was as long as he found a good place to hide it.

“Hold this,” he said to Nate, holding out the bug.

Quinn used the screwdriver to pull one of the drawers open again, then did exactly what he’d told Nate not to do. He grabbed the sides of the drawer with his gloved hands, and pulled the drawer completely out. He set it carefully on the floor.

“Bug,” he said, holding out his hand to his apprentice.

Nate placed the black wafer in Quinn’s hand.

Before peeling the protective coated paper off the adhesive tape, Quinn did a visual measurement of the drawer, then looked under the desk to gauge whether the drawer fit snugly against the back of the desk when it was closed, or left a gap.

There was no question. Definitely a gap, at least several inches. More than enough room for what he needed.

He removed the protective paper and attached the computer tap to the outside back of the drawer. The only way anyone would ever see it was if they pulled the drawer out and looked.

Once he’d replaced the drawer, he took the phone back from Nate. “Try it now,” he said to Orlando.

There was a pause. “I’ve got a signal from the tap,” she said.

“What about the computer?”

“Trying to access now,” she said. Quinn could hear her breathing faintly on the other end. “There. Yes, got it. Log-in screen.”

“See if you can log in before we get back,” he said.

“Is this a race? Because if it is, I guarantee you I’ll be in before you’ve even gotten out of the building.”

“Wait,” he said. “What about the screen?”

“What about it?”

“The top was closed on the laptop when we came in, and it was asleep.”

“That’s fine,” she said. “Close it. I can still wake it up. As soon as I log in, depending on how much is on the machine, I’ll only need ten minutes or so to download everything.”

Quinn shut the computer. “It’s closed,” he said. “We’ll see you in a bit.”

He hung up and put the phone in his pocket.

“Everything the way we found it?” he asked Nate.

“I didn’t touch anything. You’re the only one who was moving stuff around.”

“Fine, then let’s—”

Quinn’s phone began vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out. It was the same number Lok had called him from earlier.

“What’s up?” Quinn asked.

“Whatever you’re doing in there, you may want to get out now,” Lok said.

Quinn looked at his watch. There was still over ten minutes left in the hour that had been promised him. “What’s going on?”

“Someone pulled a few strings. The power will be back on in less than five minutes.”

“Dammit,” Quinn said to himself.

“That’s not all,” Lok said. “My boss also put someone outside the Quayside Villas to keep an eye on things.”

Quinn’s eyes narrowed. He hadn’t asked Ne Win to do that.

“A car just pulled up in front,” Lok went on. “Two people. One got out to talk to the security guards. A Caucasian. The other’s still in the car. Another guy. Younger.”

“Great,” Quinn said, mainly to himself. “All right. Thanks.” He hung up and looked at Nate. “Time to go.”

They raced up the staircase, replaced the false floor in the closet, then sped through apartment 05-21 to the front door.

Quinn pulled the door open and rushed gun-first into the corridor, the night vision binoculars held to his eyes.

“Clear,” he whispered, then turned on his flashlight.

Nate joined him, shutting the door behind them. Quinn crossed over to the interference disk they’d left next to the sconce and removed it from the wall.

“Stairs,” he whispered to Nate. “Hurry.”

They moved quickly down the hall, trying to remain as quiet as possible. When they reached the door to the stairwell, Quinn put a hand on it and started to push it open, but stopped.

There were footsteps coming up from below.

Quinn motioned for Nate to follow him, then headed further down the corridor. There was just enough curve left in the hallway that if they went to the end and hugged the right corner, they would be out of sight of the stairwell door.

As soon as they took up position, Quinn doused his flashlight and replaced it with his SIG. He aimed his pistol through the black void toward the corner.

Seven seconds later, the stairwell burst open. There was light, not a lot, but enough to send a gentle glow around the corner toward them. Quinn stood motionless, counting footsteps and waiting for the moment one of them decided to check around the corner.

But no one did. And within seconds, he could hear the two people moving down the hallway toward apartment 05-21.

A door opened, then closed again. Suddenly the hall was plunged back into darkness.

“What about the bug?” Nate asked.

“What?” Quinn whispered.

“The bug? Isn’t Orlando trying to get onto the computer right now?”

Nate was right. Quinn should have thought of it, too. He quickly dug out his phone and called Orlando.

“Don’t tell me you’re still—” she started to say.

“Someone’s going inside. Shut it down now!” he said, then hung up. He put a hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”

Nate went straight to bed when they returned to their new base, with instructions to wake everyone up by noon the next day. But Quinn stayed with Orlando, giving her a more detailed description of what had happened.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said when he was through. “It’s set up like a very high-end operation.”

“But?” she said, obviously sensing his hesitation.

“But...” He thought for a moment, then said, “It seemed off.”

“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that. What do you mean by ‘off ’?” There was an underlying irritation in her voice. But it was easy to see why. Her eyes were bloodshot from working on the computer, and her cheeks were taut with fatigue.

“It was like something wasn’t right,” he said, trying to clarify. “Everything seemed too well put together. Too perfect. Like the indentations on the pad of paper.”

“That wasn’t perfect,” she said.

“No. That was sloppy. Someone in this kind of operation shouldn’t do something like that.” Like Quinn and Orlando, they would have been trained to place individual sheets of paper on a hard surface before writing, never on something that would record their words.

“Maybe you should have brought it back with you,” she said.

He shook his head. “I got the feeling it was left there on purpose. If I took it, it would have been noticed.”

He then told her about the hair. How it also seemed out of place, and that he had seen no others anywhere.

“That’s really odd,” she said. “Tucked under the box? No others?”

“No others,” he said. “In fact, the rest of the apartment was pristine. No fingerprints or anything else.”

“I think maybe leaving them there was the right move,” she said. “It
does
feel off.”

“It just didn’t make sense.” He began to yawn. “Why don’t you take the other bedroom,” he told her. “I’ll take the couch.”

“I’ve got too much to do,” she said, turning back to her laptop. Sitting next to it on the table was a rectangular metal box about two inches thick. It was cream colored and whirred in a similar fashion to the arms dealer’s computer, only louder.

“You’ll probably do better with a little rest,” he said.

When she looked back at him, he realized he’d said the wrong thing. “Look. What do you want? Do you want to know what’s on the tape Jenny gave you? Because it was pretty fucked up and it’s going to take me time to get any information off it. And what about the computer from tonight? Do you want me to analyze what’s on it or not? Not to mention finding out something about the unknown LP. Or do you want me to just get some sleep and let all this sit until then? I’m willing to do that if that’s what you want, because God knows I’m tired. But I was under the impression we needed to figure this stuff out sooner rather than later. Was I wrong?”

She stared at Quinn, defying him to say anything.

“Okay,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “I’ll stay up and help you.”

“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea,” she said, rolling her eyes upward. “And just what exactly do you expect to do? Maybe we can take turns typing every other letter.”

“I was thinking more I’d keep you company,” he said softly.

She looked at him again, her eyes unblinking. Then after several seconds, she closed them and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” she said, though there was still an edge to her words. “I’ll do better if I can just concentrate on my own. You go. You need the sleep as much as I do, and one of us should be fresh.”

As much as he wanted to argue the point with her, her logic was sound. Things had been moving fast since Markoff’s body had shown up.

“If there is something you need me for, anything,” he said, “wake me up.”

She smiled, acknowledging his offer but not exactly accepting it.

As he started to walk out, she said, “Quinn?”

He stopped at the entrance to the hallway and looked back.

“I’m sorry.”

This time her annoyance was gone.

In his dream, he was on a sailboat not unlike the one Markoff had rented in San Diego. Only it wasn’t Markoff he was sailing with, it was Peter and Nate. The waves gently rolled the boat. Peter said something about pulling in the fish being Quinn’s job. But Nate was talking about sail length, and rudder speed, and—

“Scoot over.”

Quinn’s eyes fluttered open. Though the light was off, there was enough sunlight seeping in around the edge of the curtains for Quinn to see her. Orlando was standing next to the bed, wearing only a white tank top and matching underwear.

“Come on. I’m tired,” she said.

As Quinn moved more toward the center of the bed, part of his mind thought maybe he was still dreaming.

Orlando lifted the blanket and slipped underneath.

He didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do.

Perhaps she just didn’t want to be alone. He could understand that. Hell, despite what most people thought, he didn’t want to be alone either.

She rolled so she was facing away from him, then inched her way back until she was pressed up against his body—her back against his chest, her legs against his legs. Without even realizing what he was doing, Quinn moved his arm over her, hugging her around the waist.

Her hand slipped down in response, her fingers entwining in his. He closed his eyes and moved his head forward, burying his nose in her hair.

He could both hear and feel her take in a deep breath. He thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep. Then her head turned, and his lips brushed her ear. Then her cheek.

Then her lips were on his. Tentative at first, their kiss light, almost chaste. Then she turned her whole body to him, and his hand moved from her stomach to the small of her back.

As he pulled her close, her lips parted, their tongues touching, searching, caressing.

For a fleeting moment, the image of Durrie appeared in his mind, a reminder that his old mentor had once said Orlando belonged to him and no one else.

“I made you promise, Johnny,” Durrie’s voice seemed to say to him. “I made you promise never to move in on her. Remember?”

For so long, Quinn had done as Durrie had requested.

But for the first time, Quinn realized the promise meant nothing anymore.

So he didn’t stop.

And neither did Orlando.

CHAPTER

THE DOOR TO THE BEDROOM OPENED.

“Rise and shine,” Nate said. “It’s noon.”

Quinn’s first thought was that now Nate knew what had happened between him and Orlando. But as he opened his eyes, he realized he was alone in the bed.

He rolled onto his back and peered across the room. Nate was standing in the doorway.

“You wanted me to wake you up, remember?”

“I remember.”

“Orlando told me that I should let you sleep a little longer. But I figured since you said noon, it was going to be noon.”

“Thanks,” Quinn said, not sure if he meant it. “Where is she?”

“Where else?” Nate said. “At the computer.” He stepped into the hallway, then leaned back into the room. “Coffee’s ready, too.”

Orlando couldn’t have been gone too long, Quinn thought. He remembered holding her while he slept, and waking every once in a while because he wanted to know she was really there.

As he got up, he could smell her on the pillow, the distinct scent of her body: tangy and sweet and inviting.

A quick hot shower cleared the fog from his mind and helped him to focus on the here and now. Once he was dressed, he went straight for the kitchen, grabbed a cup of coffee, then returned to the living room.

“Hey,” he said as he approached the table where Orlando was

working. “Hey,” she replied. The silence wasn’t exactly awkward, but it wasn’t normal either. “Did you sleep all right?” Quinn asked. She glanced up at him, the barest of smiles on her lips. “I slept

fine.” “Good,” he said, then added a little too quickly, “So did I.” Another lull. “If anyone’s wondering, I slept pretty good, too,” Nate said. Usually Quinn would have said something like “Nobody’s won