Borko.
The Serb looked nearly unchanged from when Quinn had first seen him in Toronto. The only difference now was that gray hair had started to invade his dark brown mane.
'Hold on,' Orlando said.
She pushed another button, and the action on the monitor began to accelerate. Quinn watched as the men moved from tank to tank, filling those that needed it. Once the operation was complete, they set the tanks on the floor in a row next to one of the cabinets.
'Here,' Orlando said. She punched a button, slowing the picture back to normal speed.
Just as the men were leaving, a phone rang. Borko motioned for the others to continue on, then pulled a black cell phone from his jacket pocket. He looked at the display, then answered the call.
'Borko,' he said into the phone.
He paused, listening to the person on the other end, then started speaking again. But not in Serbian or even German. In English.
'Yes. Yes,' Borko said. 'On schedule. The rest will be here tonight.' He stopped to listen. 'Don't worry. We have forty-eight hours, right? It will be tight, but we will make it.' Another pause. 'No, you don't have to come out. I will come back this evening. Make sure everything has arrived. Tomorrow we put it all together. It will be fine.'
Borko smiled. 'No sign of him or the woman,' the Serbian continued. 'But we have our insurance cards. You sent the files?' A grin. 'That should keep them in check. If they don't give us any more trouble, we can get rid of our guests after the delivery has been made.'
Orlando pressed Pause. 'There's nothing else important,' she said. 'Who do you think he was talking to? Dahl?'
Quinn nodded. 'That would be my guess.'
Quinn glanced down at the frozen image on the screen. Borko was caught in the middle of moving the phone away from his ear. In the background, the door to the room had opened and a man was in the process of stepping inside.
'Press Play,' Quinn said.
Orlando looked at the screen for a moment, her brow furrowed. After a moment, she pressed a button.
Borko slipped his phone into the pocket of his jacket, turning to look at the new arrival as he did so.
'Pause it there,' Quinn said.
The man had walked up and stopped next to Borko. He had sandy brown hair, cut short on the sides, and was a couple inches over six feet tall.
'You know him?' Orlando asked.
Quinn nodded. 'It's Leo Tucker.'
Orlando's eyes widened in surprise. She looked back at the monitor.
'Are you sure?'
'Yes.'
Silence.
'So Piper's group didn't just pass on the infor
mation about us,' Orlando said. 'They're actually involved.' But Quinn didn't answer right away. He almost
kept his thoughts to himself, but he knew he couldn't. 'What if Piper
is
Dahl?' Quinn said.
Orlando started to speak, then stopped herself. He could see the realization dawning on her face as she put the pieces together.
'Of course,' she said, more to herself than to him. She looked up. 'That's it, isn't it? Piper is Dahl.'
'It was more than just bad blood between Piper and Durrie, wasn't it?' Quinn said as he tried to remember the exact circumstances of the split.
'Durrie just thought he was a fool,' Orlando said. 'But for Piper, yeah, there might have been more. Durrie kicked him off a high-profile job for something petty. Durrie said Piper missed an important planning meeting. Durrie said it made them look like amateurs. He badmouthed Piper for months after. It damaged Piper's credibility. Took him years to recover.'
'Right,' Quinn said. 'Only the way he used to tell the story, I think Durrie was just looking for an excuse to break up the partnership. So now that Piper's back in the game, he's in a position to exact a little revenge. Only Durrie's no longer around, so he turns on the only viable targets. The girlfriend and the apprentice. You and me.'
'And Garrett.'
'No,' Quinn said. 'Garrett's a bonus. He may not have even known about Garrett until I led him to you.' Quinn paused, his face hardening. 'Dammit. He made it out like he'd been in Ho Chi Minh City for a long time. But he probably followed me to Vietnam, getting there not long after I did.' He looked at Orlando. 'I led him right to you.'
She turned to him. If she blamed him, she didn't say so. Nor did she say she forgave him either. The look on her face was tense and serious. 'Tell me what you think we should do now,' she said.
He thought for a moment. 'When Borko leaves the plant tonight, we follow him,' he said. 'See if we can arrange a private conversation.'
Orlando nodded. 'Good. If you said anything else, I was going to go alone.'
He wanted to ask her why she didn't just suggest it. Instead, he said, 'Glad we're still on the same team.'
Her smile was not reassuring.
Chapter 31
The argument over who would actually do the following and who would do the spotting was a quick one. Quinn was the better driver and was more physically suited to take on Borko if it came to that. Reluctantly Orlando agreed to be the lookout. But only on the condition that if she could get back to the car quick enough, he would wait for her.
'Thirty seconds,' Quinn had said.
'Forty-five,' she countered.
He sighed. 'That's it, though. If you're not there by then, I'm gone.'
The elementary school directly across Schandauer Strasse from the water plant would have been the perfect place to position Orlando. But there was no easy way to get there, so the roof of the apartment building behind it would have to do.
Once again the early darkness of the northern latitudes proved useful. No one paid attention to two more bundled-up pedestrians walking the half-lit streets. It took Quinn less than fifteen seconds to unlock the front security door of the apartment building. Inside, Orlando spotted the stairwell and led the way up. They passed no one, though when they reached the fourth floor, they could hear people talking in the hallway.
There was a landing at the top of the stairs and beyond it a door that led, Quinn hoped, to the roof. The door looked seldom used. Orlando searched around the jamb, then looked at Quinn. 'I don't see any alarms,' she whispered. 'Shall I?'
Quinn nodded. She reached down and tried the knob. It turned, but the door didn't open. 'Deadbolt,' she said.
Quinn motioned for her to step aside, then pulled out his pick set. One of the items in the kit was a simple screwdriver. The deadbolt housing had been mounted from the inside of the building, so it was easy to remove the screws and disassemble the mechanism. Once the deadbolt was retracted, Quinn fiddled with the lock, jamming it so that it would no longer work. Then he put everything back together.
The door looked as it had when they'd first arrived, only now the deadbolt was disengaged and could not be reengaged without the help of a locksmith. Chances were it would be months before anyone noticed. Quinn pulled the door open, and he and Orlando exited the stairwell into the cold darkness of the roof.
They headed toward the back of the building, crouching as they neared the raised lip that surrounded the edge of the roof.
Once they reached it, Quinn peeked over the top. Closest to them was the school. Thankfully, it was a one-story structure that only partially blocked the view of Schandauer Strasse itself and not the water plant. Their position was not optimal but acceptable.
'Give me the glasses,' Quinn said.
Orlando handed him the pair of binoculars Quinn had been carrying around in his backpack since the night Nate was taken. The Rigel 2100 binoculars he owned back home turned night into day. The ones he was holding now turned night into twilight. They would have to do.
He scanned the water plant. Most of the front was dark. The only light was from the single-bulb fixture around the side, above the entrance. There were several cars parked out front. By Quinn's count: two Mercedes, a Ford, and a Peugeot. Near the entrance was a dark-colored van. Quinn continued his search until he spotted what he knew was already there. Sentries.
There were half a dozen of them scattered across the property. No doubt there were more on the street. This was a huge ramp-up from what the security had been just days before.
Quinn ducked back down behind the protection of the retaining wall. 'Here,' he said, returning the binoculars to Orlando, then told her what he'd seen.
'Call me the second you see him,' Quinn said.
'I will.'
Quinn started to back away from the edge.
'Forty-five seconds,' she reminded him.
'That's all, though,' he said. He pushed himself up and jogged away.
* * *
339
Quinn had parked his car directly in front of the apartment building earlier that afternoon when the street was less crowded. Good thing, too. Now the street was packed with cars parked bumper-to-bumper along both sides.
Quinn sat in the front seat wishing he had a cup of hot coffee, but knowing he was probably more comfortable than Orlando at the moment.
It had been a busy afternoon. In addition to stealing the Mercedes he was sitting in, he'd picked up a few other items they might need. Rope, a crowbar, some other tools, even a phone for Orlando. He'd also spent some more time online, which proved to be both beneficial and frustrating. Beneficial, because he was able to discover the location of the IOMP convention office and was even able to register himself for the convention as Dr Richard Kubik, from Topeka, Kansas. He wasn't sure he would need to actually show up, but if he did, having a registration badge would make things much easier.
The only thing that had made him pause was that the convention wasn't scheduled to begin for another week. Borko had indicated his operation was to start within forty-eight hours. There was a time disconnect Quinn couldn't yet reconcile.
Time. The convention. The connection to the Office. The very nature of the biological agent itself. All were questions Quinn had no good answers for.
Maybe the IOMP meetings were merely a cover for the delivery of the biological agent. Maybe it was just a coincidence, and Duke had just been trying to mislead Quinn. Or maybe any of a hundred other scenarios. As for the identity of the disease, the answer was just as elusive. Quinn had been hoping the Mole would have gotten back to him with an answer by now. But there had been no word.
But most frustrating had been his lack of progress with his attempt to get to whatever files had been uploaded to Jansen's FTP server.
He jerked slightly when his phone rang. Orlando's name was on the display. Quinn put the hands-free earpiece in his ear.
'Yes?' Quinn asked.
'Borko's here,' Orlando said.
The way Orlando described it to Quinn, Borko arrived in a blue Porsche and waited outside the gate until one of the guards pulled it open. Then he drove onto the lot and around to the side, parking behind the van, near the building entrance. Borko was the only one to get out of his car. As far as she could tell, he'd arrived alone. Borko entered the building, and that's when she made her call.
A Porsche.
Great,
Quinn thought. If they ended up out on the Autobahn for some reason, there would be no way his Mercedes would be able to keep up.
It was nearly an hour before Orlando called again. 'He just came out.' Quinn started up the Mercedes, but remained parked at the curb. 'What's he doing?'
'Talking to someone,' she replied. 'They're walking to his car.' A pause. 'I'm coming down now.'
'Wait,' Quinn said. 'We need to know which
direction he goes in.' 'He'll leave the same way he arrived.' 'You don't know that.' Rapid breaths came over the phone, the sounds
of someone in motion. 'I'm already on my way,' she insisted. Quinn cursed to himself as he glanced at his watch, then he said, 'You've got thirty seconds.' 'Forty-five,' she huffed. Quinn guessed she was
on the stairs. 'You've already used fifteen.' He pulled the Mercedes away from the curb and
onto the street, double-parking in front of the apart
ment building. 'Fifteen seconds,' he said. 'I'm almost there.' 'Ten.' 'Wait!' He glanced at the door. No sign of her. 'Time's up. I'm leaving.' 'Don't!' she yelled. Suddenly she burst through the front door and
ran toward the car. Quinn reached over and pushed open the passenger door. She jumped in and pulled the door shut behind her.
'Go, go, go,' she said. 'Elbestrasse. Right in front of you.'
Quinn pressed down on the accelerator. The Mercedes raced forward toward the end of the block, toward Elbestrasse. When they got to the intersection, Quinn stopped. Elbestrasse was empty.
'Maybe he went the other way,' he said.
'No. This way,' she said.
'Then maybe he already went by and we missed him. Or maybe he hasn't left at all.'
She said nothing.
Quinn scanned the intersecting street in front of them. Elbestrasse was divided in the middle by a row of large trees and additional street parking. It was still empty. He considered their options, but basically it came down to wait or give up.
Suddenly there was the roar of an engine and the reflection of headlights off the road. A moment later a dark blue Porsche Boxster flashed by.
'See. I told you,' Orlando said.
Quinn let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding, then turned left onto Elbestrasse, mere seconds behind Borko.
Chapter 32
Borko raced through the city, seemingly with no destination in mind. He was obviously checking for a tail. Quinn kept his distance, but never lost sight of the Porsche.
After twenty minutes, Borko's driving became less erratic, more focused. Finally, he seemed to have settled on a fixed direction. Which meant only one thing.
He hadn't spotted them.
The Porsche pulled up in front of a run-down hotel in the southern part of Berlin known as Schöneberg. Quinn parked the Mercedes half a block away. After a moment, Borko got out of his car and entered the building.
Once Borko disappeared inside, Quinn and Orlando climbed out of their car. They walked toward the hotel, pausing in the shadows near the entrance. From there, Quinn could see into the lobby.