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Authors: Brett Battles

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Espionage, #Jonathan Quinn, #spy, #Thriller, #Suspense, #cleaner

Becoming Quinn (21 page)

BOOK: Becoming Quinn
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The second surprise came just before the kid left. He had made sure to replace the two missing bullets in his mag and thus maximizing his chances for survival. Most people in a similar stressful situation would have just left and not thought about it. Even those who did would probably have just replaced the spent bullet, forgetting that initially there’d been no round chambered in the gun, which meant there was room for a second shell. Jake had automatically pulled two rounds out of the box.  

It was a tiny thing, so small, but an important detail. Durrie had found himself staring at Oliver. That was the moment he decided if he let the kid go on his own, it would be the same as Larson deciding Berit Davies had to die.

Durrie gave Oliver a ten-minute head start. During that time, he stored all of the weapons, except two of the pistols and the sniper rifle, in the safe locker built under the kitchen cabinets so no one else would find them. He then packed the pistols and a few other items in his own bag.

When time was up, he activated the tracking device that was tuned to a signal emitted by a chip in the lining of Oliver’s satchel. Durrie had intended it only as a way to locate the kid’s body when this was all over.

He wasn’t surprised to see that Oliver had diverted from the path he’d pointed out. Oliver had no reason to trust Durrie, and following the road was a guarantee of finding civilization somewhere. Only Durrie hadn’t been lying to him. Taking the road was also the easiest way for Larson to find him.

Durrie adjusted the straps on his pack, swung the sniper rifle over his shoulder, then headed out.

•    •    •

An engine rumbled in the distance.

Jake paused. A car. It could get him downhill a whole lot faster than on his feet. He listened again, but the way the sound was bouncing off the mountains, it was impossible to pinpoint which direction it was coming from.

He glanced around. A ridge rose just on the other side of the dirt road. He raced over to it, and didn’t stop until he was halfway up the slope.

His hope was to find a clear view of the road ahead, but all he could see were a few asphalt-covered spots several miles away. That told him something, though. The road he was following was still dirt, so somewhere ahead it either changed or met a whole new road. His bet was on the latter.

In the farthest spot, he saw a sudden flash of blue. A sedan, he thought, but knew he could be wrong. The glimpse had barely lasted a second, and the distance didn’t help.

He hustled back down the ridge, then briefly contemplated using the dirt road before deciding to return to the woods. Better to stay cautious.

He couldn’t exactly run through the trees, but he did pick up his speed. If the other road was close and he could get there before the car did, he might be able to flag it down.

Dead branches and needles crackled under his feet for a while, drowning out the sound of the car. But soon the motor grew louder, and Jake knew he was going to be cutting it close.

“Come on!” he silently yelled at the asphalt road ahead. “Where are you?”

With all the twists and turns the dirt road had taken, Jake knew it was possible any intersection was still a mile or more away. So he increased his pace, dodging through the trees and hoping he didn’t trip over a root or rock.

Ahead he could see that the trees seemed to end in a distinct line, and realized it had to be the road. He could hear the car, too, maybe a half-mile away at best.

Forgetting his earlier reluctance, he angled over to the dirt road, and sprinted down it.

The path curved, and suddenly, a hundred feet in front of him, it T-boned into the asphalt road.

He was almost there when caution once more exerted itself.

What if Durrie’s right? What if that’s the shooter?

Jake put on the brakes. As much as he just wanted to run out into the road so the driver could see him, he knew that would be foolish. He had to be sure first, see who the driver was.

Reluctantly, he moved into the cover of the trees, and down to a point along the new road about thirty feet down from the intersection. Though he couldn’t see the car, he could hear it. It was just around the bend a hundred yards further down the road. The car was apparently traveling at a leisurely pace, which was good. It would give Jake more time to get a look at the driver before he had to act.

He watched the curve, and waited.

Ten seconds later, the car came into view.

•    •    •

What the hell is he doing
? On the tracker, the dot representing Oliver’s bag had suddenly darted to the left. Durrie automatically looked in the direction the dot was going.

There was a ridge, but not much else. He glanced back at the tracker. The dot had stopped only halfway up. Was Oliver being chased? Had he seen something and was trying to hide? What?

Then Durrie heard it. A car. But it wasn’t particularly close, so Oliver couldn’t have been running from it. No, but if he got up on the ridge, he might be able to
see
it.

Dear God, please tell me he’s not going to pull something this stupid.

Durrie pulled out the map he’d stuck into his pocket earlier. A half-mile ahead was a little used country road. That had to be the one the car was on.

“Dammit,” he said as he put the map away.

He knew the dirt road was the only way he would be able to make up the time. He moved onto it and began to run. Unfortunately, doing so meant he couldn’t monitor the tracker at the same time, and, a few minutes later, he almost blew it when Oliver suddenly emerged from the trees fifty feet ahead of him.

Durrie darted to the edge of the road so that he would blend in with the trees and slowed to a near stop, unsure if he wanted Oliver to know he was following him yet. Thankfully, the kid’s attention was focused in the other direction and soon he disappeared around a curve. Once more Durrie picked up his speed. When Oliver came into sight again, Durrie saw that he was standing in the middle of the road near the intersection.

The car sounded close. A minute away, if that.

Just as Durrie was about to yell at the kid to take cover, Oliver did it on his own, moving into the woods on the right. Glad to see that Oliver hadn’t lost all of his senses, Durrie entered the woods, too, making a rapid arc around Oliver’s position, then hunching down at the edge of the forest, fifty feet further along the country road. He arrived just in time to see a blue Nissan sedan come into view.

•    •    •

Binoculars would be nice right about now
, Jake thought, his eyes locked on the sedan.

Though the sun hadn’t gone down yet, the shadows had begun to get long, and it was difficult to make out any details inside the car. As it drew closer he could make out the basic shape of someone in the driver’s seat. There was no similar shape in the passenger seat, or in the back.

The car moved closer and closer, its speed maddeningly slow.

When it was only a few car lengths away, Jake could see that the person behind the wheel was a woman, and that all the other seats did appear empty. But by the time he decided to step out from his hiding spot, the car had already passed. He ran out into the middle of the road, and began waving his arms, hoping the woman would check her mirrors.

For a moment he thought he’d been too late, then brake lights flashed, and the car began to slow.

She saw me
, he thought, allowing himself a smile.
She—

No, he was wrong. She hadn’t seen him. The reason she was braking was so she could turn down the dirt road that eventually led to the cabin. He started running toward her, waving his arms furiously. Halfway through her turn, she glanced out her window. Her eyes opened wide in surprise, and it seemed as if she said something, then the car’s brakes slammed on.

Jake had paused when she looked at him, but then, just as he was about to start toward her again, he detected movement in the back seat. At the same instant, the woman looked over her shoulder, as if reacting to the same source. When she looked at Jake again, her eyes were wide with fear.

The woman
wasn’t
alone. There was someone hidden in the back, someone who apparently terrified her.  

Jake felt the urge to turn and run, but there was no way he could. The look of fear on the woman’s face rooted him to the spot. He realized in an instant she was being held against her will, her passenger controlling her from behind somehow.

Jake silently cursed himself for not actually carrying the gun Durrie had given him. It was still in the bag on his back. He reached up and started to ease the satchel off his shoulder, but it was only partially off when the driver’s door opened and the woman half jumped, half fell out. She was small and looked Hispanic, maybe in her thirties. As she pushed herself up off the road, Jake could see that she had scraped her hands and arms.

She took a step to run, but a voice from inside the vehicle yelled, “Don’t!” She stopped. “Ask him!”

The woman looked at Jake, her eyes pleading for help.

“Ask!” the voice yelled.

“Where…where’s Dory?” she said to Jake.

“Durrie!” the voice corrected her. “Where the fuck is Durrie?”

 

 

 

29

 

Durrie pulled the rifle off his shoulder, and aimed it at the car. Even from eighty feet away, he could clearly hear the shouted question, and immediately knew it was Larson. Unfortunately, Oliver and the woman blocked the entire back half of the car from Durrie’s view. He needed to reposition.

“Where is he?” Larson shouted.

“I don’t know,” Oliver said.

“Bullshit. You were with him. Where
is
he?”

The woman, all but forgotten now, was glancing at the car, probably thinking she could make a run for it.

Durrie slipped several feet back into the woods, then started running parallel to the road, hoping he could get to a better spot and end things now before the woman took action.

“I don’t
know
where he is,” Oliver said again, then paused. “You’re the one he said was coming after him, aren’t you?”

“What do you mean?” Larson asked.

“He told me last night someone was coming for him. He seemed…annoyed.”

Durrie moved back to the edge, using a cluster of saplings as cover. Oliver had moved several steps closer to the car. Durrie checked the woman, and watched as she eyed the car again, then the woods.

Don’t do it
, he thought. He wasn’t overly concerned with the woman as an individual, but the loss of any civilian life always made things difficult.

“Why would he tell
you
that?” Larson asked.

“I think he was trying to scare me,” Oliver said, stepping closer again.

Durrie raised the rifle and trained the scope on the car. He could now see a small mirror hovering inside the back of the vehicle. Larson was obviously using it to see what was going on while staying out of sight.

“But when I woke up this morning, the door to my cell was open,” Oliver went on.

“Woke up where?”

“In a cabin. Down the road you were turning on.”

The woman took a small, tentative step away from the vehicle.

Dammit
, Durrie thought.

Oliver seemed to notice it, too. As he spoke again, he took another couple steps closer, angling, this time, toward the woman. “When I went upstairs, the place was empty. My guess is he’s not coming back.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Oliver shrugged. “Okay. Feel free to go check. You’re already headed in the right direction.”

The woman took another, larger step.

Stop!

“Maybe I will,” Larson said. “Maybe I’ll have you drive me.”

“I’m not headed that way.”

If Durrie wasn’t sold on the kid before, he was now. Oliver came off as a regular guy, average in so many ways, but he was far from that. And the balls on him...

Of course, Durrie would never tell him that.

“I don’t care which way you’re headed,” Larson said. “If I want you to drive me, you will.”

Durrie could put a couple bullets through the door. He
might
hit Larson, but if he didn’t, things could go very bad very quickly.

The woman started leaning into another step.

“Don’t do it, Mrs. West. Another step and that bullet I promised earlier will be on its way.”

“Please,” she said. “Please. I’ve done exactly what you’ve wanted. Just let me go.”

Durrie stared at her for a moment.

“Please,” she repeated.

•    •    •

“Please,” the woman repeated.

Jake knew he had to do something. He knew it was the dark-haired man—the guy Durrie called Larson—in the back seat of the car. He had used the woman as cover to bring him here. She wasn’t part of this. She didn’t deserve to get hurt.

Almost before he realized he was doing it, Jake jerked to the left, and moved quickly between the woman and the car. “Run!” he shouted at her.

“Not very smart,” Larson said.

Jake looked back at the car. “I’ll take you wherever you need to go. You don’t need her.”

Larson said nothing for a moment, then, “Durrie was wrong. You wouldn’t have fit in this world.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“He didn’t tell you he was planning on recruiting you? Interesting. Maybe he got smart and changed his mind.”

“Recruit me?”

“Probably would have never even considered it if he’d known about your weakness for civilians.”

Jake said nothing, his mind still processing the idea that Durrie had been trying to hire him.

“Me?” Larson said. “I’m smarter than that. A rookie cop, still full of ideals? I knew it was something I could exploit.”

The hairs on the back of Jake’s neck began to tingle, not from what Larson said, but from a sense he wasn’t standing there alone.

“It was so nice of you to come down here and make it easy for us,” Larson said.

Just as Jake started to turn to look behind him, he heard the crack of a gun.

•    •    •

BOOK: Becoming Quinn
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