Brett Battles - Shadow of Betrayal

MARION CAME RUNNING OUT OF THE MOTEL THE minute she saw them pull into the parking lot. Shed been watching the news for over an hour, trying to see if she could spot Iris in the group of children being ferried away from the school. Reportedly they were taking them to a nearby medical facility as a precaution.

The reporter had said none of the children had been harmed. Marion had let out a prayer of thanks when she heard that. But where was Iris?

Quinn jumped out of the car before they were even parked.

Back in the room, he said to Marion.

Why? she asked.

He walked quickly up to her. Because we dont want to draw any attention.

Iris? she asked.

Inside, okay?

As she turned to do as he said, she heard a familiar voice behind her call out.

Goah.

She whipped around. Nate had just emerged out of the back seat. In his arms was the one thing Marion wanted to see more than anything.

Goah, the girl said, smiling at Marion.

Marion rushed over and took Iris in her arms.

Goah, Iris repeated.

Yes, Marion said. Goah. Goah.

In Marions room, Quinn gave her an edited version of what had happened. There was no reason to let her know how close the girl had come to dying. If Marion sensed he was holding back, she didnt say anything. She seemed content just to hold Iris and kiss the girls cheeks.

We need to get her to a doctor, Quinn told her.

What? Why? Marion said, scanning the child. Is she hurt?

The implant, Quinn said. She needs to get it out.

Marion touched the spot where the implant had been inserted. Right. Of course.

I know a place in L.A. Very discreet. And once theyre done, well get you home.

A dark look crossed Marions face.

Dont worry, Orlando said. Well make sure the papers you have for her will hold up. Iris will be yours now and always.

Its not that, Marion said. Im just not sure where home is now.

In the wake of the Morro Bay attack, and the subsequent washing up on a beach in Virginia of another high-ranking CIA officialthis one named Chercoverthe Office was disbanded. But as much as the FBI wanted to pin the bombings and murders on the negligence of Peter and his people, they couldnt.

Quinn didnt want to care. He was going to be through with the Office after this job anyway. Still, he couldnt help feeling a sense of loss. No matter how annoying Peter was, the Office had, for the most part, done some decent work.

Now there was a void waiting to be filled.

The last conversation hed had with Peter had been short.

Ill make sure your money is transferred before we close our accounts, Peter had said.

Quinn frowned. It didnt feel right to be paid to stop the murders of dozens of children, let alone the others who would have died at the school. But he realized there was something he could do with his fee. Marion. Hed deposit it in her account. Of course, the amount would shock her, so hed have to send her a note first so that she didnt do something stupid like tell the bank theyd made a mistake.

I also thought youd like to know about the children whod been Peter seemed to be unable to finish the sentence.

What about them? Quinn asked.

All but one survived. The doctors say he had a heart condition that just couldnt handle the stress of being kept drugged for so long, followed by all the excitement at the school.

He?

A little boy. Thats all I know.

Quinn paused as an image of the boy on the gurney squeezing his hand pushed everything else aside. Though he didnt wish death on any of the children, he hoped for his own sanity that this boy was one of the living.

One last thing, Peter said. You remember the man you caught in the apartment building in New York before you discovered the DDNIs body?

That seemed like years ago to Quinn. Al, right?

Al Barker, Peter said. I was able to have one more conversation with him before the Feds showed up. I brought a picture of Hardwick with me that Id taken from the NSA website. When he looked at it, he identified him as Mr. Monroe.

Monroe?

The landlord who owned the building. Remember?

What the hell? Quinn said. Hardwick had owned the building where Quinn had found the DDNI?

I think weve been played, Peter said. I think we might have just done what the LP wanted us to do. But no one will believe me anymore. Im out of the game. I just thought you should know so you can keep an eye on your back. Since youre still in good standing, theyll be concerned about you. Youre one of the few out there who know they exist and can cause them a problem.

Quinn let it sink in for a moment. Even if they had been set up, there had been no choice. Quinn had to do what hed done. The alternative would have been a disaster. What are you going to do now? he asked.

Get drunk, Peter said.

The line went silent for several seconds before it was replaced by the dead air of a disconnected call.

Nate sat behind the wheel of Quinns BMW, his brand-new prosthesis pressing down on the gas pedal. They were heading south toward L.A., having retrieved the now-dusty car from where theyd left it in the Alabama Hills.

You still want me to take you straight to the airport? Nate asked.

Quinn glanced at the clock on the radio. By the time they reached the city, there would be less than two hours before his flight.

Yeah. Straight there. Tonight hed be sleeping in a hotel in Minneapolis, and tomorrow, after a long drive north, hed be having dinner in his parents kitchen.

Quinn stared out the passenger window at the upsweep of the Sierra Nevadas. After a moment, he looked over at Nate.

Ive been thinking, he said.

Yeah? What? Nate asked.

I was thinking maybe youd like to move into the guest room of my place.

Nate stared at the road ahead, his expression impossible to read.

Im not going to be around that much, Quinn said.

Where are you going?

Now it was Quinns turn to stare out the window. San Francisco.

A smile cracked on Nates face.

I guess Im kind of asking you to watch my place for me, Quinn said.

What about my training?

Your training wont stop.

Nate looked skeptical. Dont jerk me around. Im just going to be a glorified house sitter, arent I?

Quinn didnt answer for several seconds. When he finally did, he said, No, Nate. Youre going to be a cleaner.