[Quinn 01] - The Cleaner

The man repeated Quinn's instructions. He listened for a moment, nodding, then looked at Quinn. 'He says to tell you Nate is still alive.'

When Quinn had the phone again, he said, 'Make it fast.'

'What Gregory just told you is true,' Borko said. 'Your friend Nate is one of my guests.'

'Then let him go.'

'Turn yourself in to us, and I will.'

'Why don't I believe you?'

Borko didn't reply immediately. 'You know,' he said, breaking the silence. 'You are a very talented individual. You've really surprised me.'

'Sorry I haven't made myself an easier target.'

'That's good. You are a challenge. Too bad we aren't working together.' 'That will never happen.' 'Never?' 'Believe it,' Quinn said. 'Let Nate go.' 'Are you going to let Gregory bring you in?' 'You know I'm not.' 'Then I think I might keep him for a little while

longer. Until I'm sure you won't be a problem.' Borko paused. 'If you won't turn yourself in, my advice to you is to get out of town. Forget about your friend. If that happens, once I am finished here, he will be free to go where he wants.'

'And my advice to you is to go fuck yourself.'

There was silence. Then Borko said, 'If you need a little more motivation to leave us alone, you should have your girlfriend call home.'

'What the hell does that mean?' Quinn asked, unable to keep himself from glancing at Orlando. But there was no answer. Borko had already hung up.

As Quinn closed the phone, he thought he heard something on the roof above them. Footsteps, still distant but getting closer.

Gregory smiled at Quinn. 'We seem to have

company.'

Gregory's hand moved quickly to his side. Suddenly there was a knife in his hand. Quinn wasn't sure whose bullet hit Gregory first, his or Orlando's. With a look of surprise, Borko's man sailed backward over the edge, arcing upward first, then plummeting into the darkness below.

Chapter 27

They moved through the suite, down the main hallway, and into the west stairwell. There they took the stairs down to the first floor, one floor above ground level. Slipping into the corridor, Quinn spotted four firemen at the far end of the hallway. He motioned for Orlando to wait in the stairwell, then he strode toward the men.

'Who are you?' one of them called out in German, challenging him. They were all roughly the same size, within an inch or two of Quinn's own height, and fully outfitted in fire gear.

'What have you found?' Quinn said, sounding like it was his right to ask.

Another of the firemen spoke up. 'Nothing.'

'It could be a false alarm,' Quinn said. 'But we need to be certain, yes? Two of you come with me. The other two keep looking to make sure you haven't missed anyone.'

'Who are you?' the first one asked again.

'Criminal Investigations. Whoever pulled that alarm did it deliberately. I need to find him and find out why. I suggest we get moving.'

'Yes, sir. Absolutely,' the first fireman said. 'I will stay with you.'

'So will I,' the man next to him said.

The other two moved off down the hallway. Quinn led the volunteers back to the west stairwell.

Quinn and Orlando discarded the firemen's gear behind the IMAX theater at Potsdamer Platz. The outfits would undoubtedly be found and reunited with their owners once the men explained how they got knocked out and stripped of their clothes.

The gear had provided Quinn and Orlando with the perfect cover. And even though the outfit Orlando wore was several sizes too big, no one had noticed a couple more firemen walking out of the Mandola.

They walked nearly a mile before Quinn felt it was safe to hail a taxi. 'Where can I take you?' the driver asked, once they had climbed into the back.

'Neukölln,' Quinn said.

They found a vacant store on Karl Marx Strasse, less than a mile from the water plant on Schandauer Strasse. Using his lock picks, Quinn was able to open the back door.

'No one's been here for a while,' Orlando said.

She was right, Quinn noted. There was a fine layer of dust over everything, disturbed only by the footprints they had created when they entered.

Quinn passed through the short hallway into the modest showroom that made up the front half of the store. It was occupied only by a few empty display cases and a cardboard box full of trash. The

windows were covered with white paint, preventing anyone outside from looking in. Suddenly a dim light came on from somewhere behind him.

'Did you do that?' Quinn called out.

'In here,' Orlando said from the back of the building.

Quinn retraced his steps and found her in a room off the hallway. There was a single low-wattage bulb glowing from a fixture in the ceiling. Orlando flipped a switch and the light went off. Another flip and it was back on.

'It's the only one that works,' she said.

The room they were in had once served as either a storage room or a large office. It was at least fifteen feet across and ten wide.

'We can set up in here,' she said. 'Get a few sleeping bags, maybe some air mattresses. Just like home.'

The mention of home made Quinn pause.