[Quinn 01] - The Cleaner

Neither of them said anything for over a minute. Finally, Orlando pushed herself away from him. But it was gentler; the fight had temporarily gone from her.

'God knows what they're doing to Garrett right now,' she said. 'We should get help. You can use your contacts at the Agency.'

"They won't do anything to him,' Quinn said. 'Garrett's too valuable. They'll only do anything if Dahl thinks we're becoming too much of a problem. That's why we can't call anyone. You know that. Garrett's best chance is with us. No one else.'

Her shoulders sagged, and he knew she realized he was right.

'I promise,' he said, 'the moment an opportunity to get Garrett comes up, one where we have a chance of succeeding, we'll take it. Until then we do things step-by-step. Okay?'

She didn't answer.

Quinn reached into his backpack and pulled out the small first-aid kit he carried. It was no more than a cloth bag with a zipper on top, about the size of an average eyeglass case. From inside he removed a small packet, opened it, and dumped two pills into his palm – sleeping pills. He held them out to her. 'I want you to take these.'

Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head. 'No.'

'Take them,' Quinn said. 'You're not going to be able to help your son unless you're sharp. And you won't be sharp unless you get some sleep.'

'I said no.'

'Orlando. Please. He needs your help, and I need your help. But not when you're like this.' 'I don't want to,' she said, but her voice was low, not fighting him, just telling him. 'I know,' he said, still holding the pills out to her.

Finally she reached out and took them from his hand. She stared at them and then, without saying anything else, put them in her mouth and dry-swallowed them.

'We'll get him back. I swear to you we will.'

Without a word, she turned away and moved over to the wall, then sat down with her back against it. From inside her coat she pulled out something small and rectangular. She held it in her hand, staring at it until her eyes finally closed.

Once she was asleep, Quinn sat on the floor beside her. He looked over to see what she held so tightly in her hand. It was a plastic wallet insert, the kind that would hold several pictures. It was starting to slip out of her hand, so he gingerly picked it up with the intention of setting it on the floor beside her. Instead, he glanced down at the photo she'd been looking at. Garrett. He could have guessed as much. Most of the other pictures in the miniature album were of Garrett, too. Only the last one was different. A cropped image of the same photo sitting on the altar in Vietnam. Durrie.

Feeling like he was trespassing, he set the pictures on the floor.

To get his mind on something else, he pulled the remote viewing monitor from his backpack, setting it on his lap. The device wasn't much bigger than a typical hardback book, and only a half-inch thick. On the upper portion of the flat front surface was a color screen that provided sharp detail. Below the screen was a keypad, not unlike that of an accountant's calculator. The pad allowed its user to switch rapidly from one camera position to another. It also had an internal hard drive that would allow for several hours of multi-camera recording. There were two data ports for external devices to be connected, a built-in speaker, and a place to plug in a set of headphones.

Since his current position was well within the one-mile signal radius of the cameras, he expected to have no problem receiving an image. He turned the monitor on, then removed the set of Sennheiser earphones that went with it from his backpack. He plugged them into the audio slot and fit the earpieces into his ears.

Outside it was dark. The winter sun was still hours away from rising. Quinn shuffled through the views coming from the six cameras. Everything looked quiet. Exactly what he expected at this early hour. He turned the monitor off and set it on the ground.

His eyes grew heavy, and as he was falling asleep a thought grew in his mind, one that would shape his dreams over the next few hours.

What if I can't keep my promise?

By 10 a.m., Quinn was awake again, studying the monitor. Orlando, still asleep, had slumped onto her side. There was activity in the water plant now. Two men were moving through the sphere into the bio-containment room. They were wearing biohazard suits. Each was carrying a hard plastic case, about the size of a typical carry-on suitcase. Quinn recognized them as the cases he had seen sitting open in the basement room containing the refrigerator.

Once the men were in the center room, they set the cases on the stainless-steel counter. The taller of the two men went over and opened the door of the refrigerator nearest the room's entrance, while the other opened his case. The first man then returned to the counter and opened his own case. They began removing small cardboard boxes from inside and setting them on the table. It didn't take long. There were only a total of eight boxes.