Shadow of Betrayal

A second later the line clicked live again.

“Quinn?” Nate said.

“I’m here.”

“Orlando?”

“Are you crazy?” she said. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in there? You’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Listen,” he said.

“No. I’m not going to listen. You pull out now. We’ve got more than enough for Peter to act on. Let’s leave it to him.”

“He’d never be able to get here in time. They’re moving out soon. Within the next hour or two would be my guess.”

“Doesn’t matter. You should not be down there by yourself.”

“Listen, goddammit,” he said. “I’ve found something.”

“I don’t care what you’ve—”

“Children,” he said.

That stopped her. “What?”

“I’ve found children. At least seventeen and probably more.” He told her about the room full of gurneys.

She didn’t say anything for several seconds, then when she did speak, her voice was low and controlled. “You’re sure they’re all alive?”

“As far as I can tell.”

“Iris?” Nate asked.

“Who’s Iris?” Orlando asked.

“The child who was with Marion,” Nate said. “That’s what she calls her.”

“Can Marion hear you?” Quinn asked Nate.

“No, I’ve moved up the tunnel.”

“She’s not here.”

Nate and Orlando fell silent.

“That means one of two things to me,” Quinn said. “Either they’ve … gotten rid of her …”

“Jesus,” Nate said.

“Or,” Quinn went on, “there’s another group of children somewhere.” He explained about hearing the gurneys being wheeled into the room, then his discovery of them. “But I also heard something else being pushed in the other direction. Sounded similar to the gurneys that had rolled past me. So I think it’s likely there’s another room with more kids in it.”

“What the hell are they doing?” Nate asked.

“I don’t know, and at the moment it doesn’t matter,” Quinn said. “That’s why I can’t leave yet. I have to find them. I have to see if there’s something I can do … we can do.”

Orlando, who had been silent through the entire explanation, said, “I think I can get onto the base without anyone knowing. I found a weak spot, a dry riverbed that’s been eroding the dirt from under the wires. I think I can dig myself under.”

“No,” Quinn said. “Just stay out there. See if you can cause a distraction for the guards at the gate. Everyone’s tied up here, so I don’t think they’ll get any immediate help. It just needs to be enough to allow Nate and Marion to get out without being caught.”

“That’s a stupid idea,” she said. “I’m coming under. I’ll meet up with them at the tunnel, then bring Marion out myself the way I came. That way Nate can stay in case you need him.”

“It’s too much of a risk,” Quinn said.

“Don’t talk to me about too much risk,” she shot back. “This is not open for discussion.”

There was a click on the line.

“Nice going,” Nate said. “She hung up.”

Quinn took several breaths, allowing himself to calm down. “Text me when she gets there,” he said, then disconnected the call.

He gave one last look at the gurneys spread out behind him. Then, without realizing what he was doing at first, he found the bed with the boy who’d woken up.

“I’ll take care of this,” Quinn said to him.

He then doused his flashlight and stepped back into the corridor.

CHAPTER

35

TUCKER ENTERED THE LEVEL ONE CAFETERIA AT precisely 12:45 a.m. and found all four of the helicopter pilots sitting at a table finishing their meals. Their crew members sat at a nearby table silently scarfing down the remains of their sandwiches.

“It’s time,” Tucker said. “We’ll have everything on board in forty minutes, then lift off right after that.”

“All right,” the head pilot, a guy named Seizer, replied. “We’ll meet you topside.” He stood and looked over at his crew’s table. “Let’s go.”

Almost as one, the crew members and the remaining pilots all stood.

“We’ll be ready,” Seizer said.

They filed out of the room.

Tucker glanced over at the table in the back where several of his men sat drinking coffee. “We’ve got forty minutes to get the cargo up to the surface and into the helicopters,” Tucker said. “You should be able to fit four packages per elevator car. I want both cars in constant operation. Should be able to have everything all topside by,” he paused, looking at his watch, “fifteen after. Petersen’s bringing the truck around.”

One by one they stood.

“This is what we’re getting paid for, so let’s not fuck it up,” Tucker told them.

As soon as his men were gone, he pulled out his cell phone.

“It’s Tucker,” he said. “We’re in final prep and should be off the ground by one-thirty. Flight time a little less than two hours, so figure three-thirty worst case.”

“We’re ready and waiting,” the man on the other end said.

“No problems?”

“None at all.”

“And the targets’ schedule?”

“Unchanged. They’ll be at the center at nine-thirty a.m.”

“Good. And the distractions?”

“Both cars already in place. I’ll give you the detonators when you arrive.”

“Perfect,” Tucker said.