Shadow of Betrayal

The distractions were a little extra something he’d added into the mix that Mr. Rose didn’t know about. It was going to be his ass on the line, after all, so anything that could help with a successful escape was welcome.

He disconnected the call and headed for the exit, wanting to get down to the second level so he could supervise the first load himself. As he did, he checked his watch again, then smiled.

With any luck they’d actually be off the ground ahead of schedule.

Quinn had just begun his search for the second room when he heard someone talking. The voice was distant, but that could have been a trick of the corridors. And, he soon realized, it wasn’t just a single voice, it was several.

He knew he should find an empty room and hide out until he could move freely again, but he also knew he was running out of time. So he increased his pace, checking the rooms he passed, but finding nothing.

When he turned down an intersecting corridor, the voices grew louder. He crept forward, passing two hallways, then stopping before he reached the third. The voices were coming from around the corner. Though they were distant enough that he knew they were down the hall a bit, he could make out snippets of conversation.

“… time to take … fine.”

“We need … think?”

“… promise anything … best.”

He checked the lighting and realized he was in a deep shadow. He knew if he took a look around the corner, the risk of being noticed would be minimal. Keeping his motions slow, he leaned out just enough to see around the edge.

Forty feet away, the hallway widened out into a common area where over a dozen men were gathered. Most were big, ex-military types like the ones who had captured Furuta. A few were smaller, wearing white coats like doctors or lab workers. All were focused on the man standing in the middle. Tucker.

Quinn hesitated only a second, then crouched down and crossed the intersection. He moved as fast as he could, taking a back route to the room where he’d found the first group of children. Maybe he could find a way to block the door, and at least slow Tucker’s people down. He wasn’t going to be able to stop them, not on his own, but if he could throw off their timetable, he might be able to get back to the surface and figure out some way to keep them from leaving.

Only he was too late.

Four other men were already at the room. Quinn could see them through the half-opened door. They were arranging the gurneys in some kind of order.

Quinn had no choice. He reentered the same room he’d hidden in earlier, this time leaving the door opened a crack.

The first thing he heard was one of the gurneys being wheeled out of the room and back into the hallway. Just before it passed the room he was in, someone called out, “Hold on.”

The cart stopped.

“Let me get the drip going,” the voice said. “We don’t want them waking up mid-flight.”

Flight? Quinn thought. Maybe there was an airfield and a plane that could hold all the children.

“Hurry up,” a second voice said.

“Two seconds,” the first said. A pause, then, “Okay. You’re good to go.”

As the cart started up again, a second came down the hallway. Again the first voice—one of the technicians?—stopped it for a moment before letting it move on. After that, the carts began rolling out unhindered. The technician was no doubt getting each of the IVs going before they left the room.

Quinn pulled out his cell phone. He wanted Nate to get into a position where he could observe the main ground-level exit so that he could see where they were taking the children.

There was a voice message waiting for him. He pressed Play and put the phone to his ear.

“There are four Sikorsky Superhawks in a clearing about an eighth of a mile southwest of Yellowhammer’s entrance.” It was Orlando. The Superhawk was a troop-transport helicopter. “You said you thought they might be leaving soon. If so, this is how. I got Marion on the other side of the fence, so I’m going in for a closer look.”

That was it. There was no follow-up message. He couldn’t call to get an update, either. The minute he’d open his mouth, those in the hallway would hear him. But at least he now knew how they planned to fly out. Not a plane. Helicopters.

He fired a text off to Orlando.

Status?

He didn’t wait for a response before sending a second one, this time to Nate.

Have u heard from O?

He thought for a moment, then decided a third was in order.

Be ready. They’re moving tonight. Be advised they have hostages. More soon.

He chose Peter’s name from his addresses, then hit Send.

Another thirty seconds passed before he got any response. It was from Nate.

Last radio contact 30 min ago when she took M out. Have tried to reach her since, but no reply. U need me to come to u?

Quinn typed:

No. They’re starting to clear out of here. O left message she spotted helicopters. Meet up with her. Disable them if u can.

It took Nate ten seconds to receive and reply.

OK.