Authors: Brett Battles
Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #Suspense, #Mystery & Detective
TEN MINUTES HAD PASSED SINCE THEY’D LEFT
the financial district when Quinn’s phone rang. The caller ID read
BLOCKED
.
“Here we go,” he said.
He pushed Accept.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Quinn?”
“Who is this?” Quinn asked.
“My name is Fedor.”
“Sorry, I’m talking to only your boss.”
Quinn could hear Fedor start to say something, but he disconnected the call before he could hear what it was.
It took only ten seconds for the phone to ring again.
“Mr. Quinn,” Fedor said, “I’m calling to give you instructions for—”
“I talk to your boss or I talk to no one.”
“Wait!”
“Tell him if he wants Trevor Robb’s body,” Quinn said, “he’d better be the one on the other end when my phone rings again.” He hung up again.
No one said anything for several moments.
Finally, Orlando looked over at Petra. “You never told us what he did to you.”
“I’m sorry?”
“The Ghost. You said he hurt all of you in one way or another. What did he do to you?”
Petra looked uneasy.
“If it’s too personal,” Orlando said, “you don’t have to answer.”
“No,” Petra said. “It’s just hard to talk about.” A wan smile crossed her lips. “His name was Andrei. I was twenty-three, and he was twenty-five. We’d been married a year and a half when the Ghost’s men came for him. He did nothing wrong, other than want a better future for our children.”
“How many did you have?” she asked.
She shook her head. “None. We were going to have two. A boy and a girl. That’s what we talked about. But the Ghost took them from me before they could even be conceived. Someone in our building overheard Andrei saying something they took to be subversive and turned him in. What, I never knew.”
Once more, silence descended on the car.
After nearly a minute, Quinn said, “I think we’ve waited long enough.”
He called the number Annabel had given him, and almost immediately Fedor answered.
“Is he ready to talk to me now?” Quinn asked.
“How did you get this number?” Fedor stammered.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about? Do you know what I do for a living? Put your boss on.”
The line went silent for half a minute, then Palavin came on. “Mr. Quinn?”
“Yes.”
“You have a problem talking to my assistant?”
“I don’t have a problem talking to him,” Quinn said. “I just don’t have any reason to. This business is between you and me.”
“You have something for me?”
“If you mean do I have the body you sent me after, yeah, I have Trevor Robb right here.”
Palavin’s response was quick and casual. “Robb? Is that supposed to mean something to me? Because, Mr. Quinn, it doesn’t.”
“That’s interesting,” Quinn said. “It’s the name I found on the ID tucked under the sole of his shoe.”
“His shoe?”
“Yes. Looks like he put it there in case something happened to him. Guess it’s a good thing he did.”
Neither of them said a thing for several seconds.
“What is it you want?” Palavin said.
Quinn smiled at Orlando and nodded.
“I assume you still want his body,” Quinn said. “If you don’t, I’m pretty sure I can think of some alternate places to leave it. Only, I’d probably have to leave an explanation, too.”
“Do I have to remind you about your sister?”
Despite himself, Quinn tensed. But he refrained from responding.
“This is completely unnecessary,” Palavin said, trying to sound conciliatory. “We were calling
you
with the drop-off location.”
“No.”
“No?”
“That’s not the way it’s going to work.”
“What are you talking about?”
“We’re doing this my way,” Quinn said. “Step one. You’re allowed one car. One. And in that car will be one of your men, my sister, and you. No more.”
“You can’t be serious. I might as well kill her now.”
“And I’ll turn over Trevor Robb to someone who will be more than happy to find out the backstory on this guy.”
“You mean you’d risk your sister’s life on some unknown interest in this dead person?”
“No,” Quinn said. “You’re not seeing this clearly. You’re the one taking the risk. As long as I have the body, you won’t do anything to my sister.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because according to my sources in British intelligence, Trevor Robb is still alive and well. And around your age.”
Silence.
“This can go very simply,” Quinn said. “What you have for what I have. No problems. Be in your car
with
my sister in ten minutes. I will call you back.”
He hung up.
“Are your people in position?” Quinn asked Mikhail.
“Yes.”
“Tell them it won’t be long now.” He looked at Orlando. “How about you? All ready?”
“Absolutely.”
He turned to Petra. “Time to lose the tail just long enough to drop Orlando off.”
Five minutes after Orlando had left the van, Quinn called the Ghost back.
“Are you in your car?” he asked.
“Of course.”
“Is my sister with you?”
“She’s here.”
“Let me talk to her.”
“No,” the Ghost said. “You can’t talk to her until our business is done.”
It was an empty threat, and they both knew it. “Put her on or our business is already done.”
“Jake?” Liz said a moment later.
“Liz. It’s going to be all right. It’ll all be over very soon. Tell me, how many people in the car, including you?”
She paused. “Four.”
“Four including you?”
“Yes.”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed. “Just stay strong and I’ll make sure everything is all right.”
“I’ll try,” she said.
Palavin came back on. “That’s enough. So where do you want us to go?”
“My instructions were one man, my sister, and you. No more.”
“Well, that’s just too bad, isn’t it?”
Quinn was silent for several moments. “Fine,” he said. “Should I assume, then, that you have other cars following behind somewhere? Ready to move in if necessary?”
The Ghost said, “Of course not. Just my two men and me. I want this over.”
“That makes two of us. Waterloo Station. Fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes is not enough—”
“Fifteen minutes,” Quinn repeated, then turned his phone completely off.
• • •
They headed first south across the Thames River, then west toward Waterloo Station, the sound of raindrops thumping against the roof of the van. Per Quinn’s instructions, Petra made sure not to shake their tail. He knew as long as the person behind them had them in sight, the Ghost would still think he had the upper hand.
“Anything?” he asked Mikhail.
“Not yet,” the Russian said, his phone held firmly to his ear.
“Does your friend speak English?”
“Of course.”
“Put him on speaker.”
Mikhail said something in Russian into the phone, then pushed a button and lowered it into his lap. “Can you hear me?” he said in English.
“Da,”
a voice said on the other end. “A little noisy but I can hear you.”
“Nova, right?” Quinn said.
“Yes,” Nova said.
“This is Quinn. I appreciate your assistance.”
“Not necessary. The Ghost is no friend of mine.”
“He should be arriving soon,” Quinn said.
Nova was in a car near Waterloo. “Good. I have men all around the station. The moment they see him, I’ll know.”
“It’s important that he doesn’t realize he’s been spotted.”
“We understand,” Nova said.
“We’ll keep you on speaker. Let us know the moment there’s a change.”
“I will.”
Quinn pushed himself off the floor and shuffled into the front passenger seat. The rain was steady, but not hard, the windshield wipers more than a match for the storm so far. Quinn looked at the GPS device mounted on the dash, but it only showed a closeup of the road they were on. “Our friends?”
She glanced into her side-view mirror. “Still there.”
“Okay. Let’s do a little zigzagging.”
“Zigzag?”
“Take a few turns. Left-right?”
“Ah, yes. No problem.”
“But don’t lose them. Just make it look like we’re being cautious, and keep our basic direction the same. We want them to still think we’re headed for Waterloo.”
“Hold on,” she said, grinning.
Quinn grabbed the dash as Petra took the next turn, then leaned over enough so he could see the side mirror out her window. Nothing for several seconds, then a set of headlights made the turn behind them.
“Palavin’s men?” Quinn asked.
Petra gave the mirror a quick glance. “Yes.”
“Okay. Take the next turn. My guess is once we do, they’ll start to wonder if we know they’re there, and they’ll halve the distance between us.”
She turned again, and just as Quinn predicted, they were only a half block down when the trailing car showed up again.
“Keep it straight for a few blocks,” he said.
After several seconds of silence, Quinn looked over at Petra. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
He paused. “For Andrei.”
They sat in silence, both watching the road ahead. Suddenly Nova’s voice echoed over the speakerphone.
Quinn looked back at Mikhail. “What did he say?”
“Possible sighting,” Mikhail said.
Quinn glanced at the GPS unit. Waterloo Station was only a few blocks away now.
“Make it like you’re heading toward the station, but keep a block or two between it and us. If you have to, go all the way around. When I give you the word, break off and head toward point two.”
She nodded.
Quinn then made his way back to Mikhail, but remained in a standing crouch.
“Nova?” he said.
“I’m here,” Nova replied.
“Tell me exactly what your people saw.”
“A dark blue Mercedes. S600. Very nice.”
“How many inside?”
“Windows are tinted, so could only see the driver and a man in the passenger seat.”
“What makes you think it’s them?” Quinn asked.
“They circled the station once, then pulled off onto Spur Road and parked at the curb. No one’s gotten out.”
“Any following cars?”
“Yes,” Nova said. “Two so far. A black Audi and a silver Mercedes. Four people in each.”
Counting the car behind the van and the Ghost’s sedan, the total rose to fifteen people.
“There could be more, but two cars sounds about right,” Quinn said. Then in a voice loud enough for the whole van to hear, he said, “Time for the next phase. Is everyone ready?”
“Yes,” Petra said.
“Give my people two minutes to get to their cars,” Nova said.
“All right,” Quinn told them. “Two minutes and I make the call.”
“LET ME SPEAK TO MY SISTER,” QUINN SAID.
“Where are you?” the Ghost asked.
“Let me speak to my sister.”
“You already spoke to her.”
“And you could have dumped her since then. Let me speak to her, or we abort.”
The phone exchanged hands.
“I’m here,” she said, strain still in her voice, but a little calmer than the last time.
“Still okay?”
“Yes.”
“Good. It won’t be long.”
“All right,” she said. “Jake, what about Nate? Is he—”
Quinn could hear the phone moving again.
“I’m at Waterloo,” the Ghost said. “Bring me the package now and you can have her back. Then we can both move on.”
Quinn’s phone vibrated, indicating a text, but he ignored it for the moment.
“Step two,” he told the Ghost. “Head toward Victoria Station. I’ll call you in five minutes with further instructions.”
“That is unaccep—”
Quinn disconnected the call, then looked at the screen. The text was from Orlando.
Arrived point 3. All clear.
Quinn sent her a quick message back.
Did you check on Nate?
While he waited for her reply, he leaned toward Mikhail’s phone. “Anything?”
“The Mercedes is moving,” Nova reported. “Hold on.”
Quinn heard Nova speaking in Russian. There was a muffled reply that sounded like it was coming over another phone. When he came back on, he said, “It’s heading west toward Westminster Bridge.”
“That’s him,” Quinn said.
Nova said something in Russian again. Quinn looked at Mikhail, his eyebrows raised.
“He’s checking on the backup cars,” Mikhail said.
Good. That was going to be Quinn’s next question.
Fifteen seconds of nothing, then Nova said, “Have positions on the Audi and the other Mercedes, too. The Audi looks like it’s hanging back to cover the Ghost’s car, while the Mercedes is racing ahead.”
“Any sign of anyone else?” Quinn asked.
“None,” Nova said. “Should we drop the hammer?”
“Soon,” Quinn said.
His phone vibrated again.
Still alive
The rain had increased, soaking the road and chasing most people off the streets.
“Now,” Quinn said to Petra as they passed Victoria Station.
Ahead, the light was changing. Petra pressed the accelerator to the floor, then swerved the van around a car that was slowing for the light, and raced through the intersection.
“Did they make it?” Quinn asked.
Petra looked in the mirror. “No. There were too many cars between us.”
“Lose them,” he said.
Petra took the next right, then went several blocks before taking a left onto a quieter residential street. As she continued to work her way through the neighborhood, Quinn kept checking to see if the other car had returned, but it hadn’t.
“Where’s our tail?” Quinn asked.
Mikhail spoke Russian into the phone, then looked back at Quinn. “They’ve gone south. Back toward the river.”
Quinn smiled. “And Palavin?”
Mikhail spoke into his phone again, then said to Quinn, “Nearing Victoria.”
“Take us to point three,” Quinn told Petra. He then called Palavin.
“We’re here,” Palavin said. “We’ll park on the north side. You’ll have three minutes to find us, or the deal is off and your sister is dead.”
“I think you misunderstood me. We’re not meeting at Victoria Station,” Quinn told him.
“I’m done playing your games. Come get her and give me my property.”
“Step three. You should write this down. Fifty-one point seven—”
“What the hell is this?” the Ghost said.
“Figure it out,” Quinn told him, then gave him the rest of the GPS coordinates. “You should be able to get there in an hour. I’ll give you fifty minutes. And if you do anything to my sister, I will expose you, Mr.
Robb
, and you’ll be spending your last years in prison for murder.”
He hung up the phone.
“Well?” he asked Mikhail.
The Russian was sitting across from him, listening to his own phone. “They’re still at Victoria,” he told Quinn. “Wait … they are on the move again.…” There was a pause of several seconds. “Heading … toward … point three.” Mikhail said something in Russian, then to Quinn, “Definitely heading toward point three.”
“Okay,” Quinn said. “It looks like we’re on.”