Shadow of Betrayal

“What the fuck?” the man said as the screen lit up.

A bright light glowed on the screen for a moment, then went out. Orlando let go of his hand, then tapped the phone twice bringing up the keyboard.

While Orlando was busy with the phone, Quinn crouched down so that he was eye level with the technician. He pointed his SIG at the man’s chest.

“What’s your name?” Quinn said.

The man shook his head, then said, “I’m not talking.”

“Really?” Quinn looked at Orlando. “Door.”

Instantly she was on the move. Quinn then grabbed the technician and pulled him back to his feet.

As Orlando threw the side door open, the cabin was filled with the mixed roar of the wind and the engine. Within seconds the temperature dipped to near freezing.

Quinn shoved the man in the back, moving him near the opening. The man got to within two feet, but would go no more. Quinn placed the barrel of his gun against the back of the man’s head.

“Take a good look,” he yelled. “There’s a hell of a lot of wilderness out there. By the time someone finds your body, you won’t be much more than bones. But I guess that wouldn’t be something you’d need to worry about. It’s the fall you’re thinking about, isn’t it?” He paused. “You won’t have to worry about the fall, either. I’m going to shoot you in the head as I push you out. So, really, it’s the bullet you need to be worried about. Now, what’s your name?”

The man said something, but his words were lost in the wind.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

The man twisted his head, mindful of the gun still pointed at him. “Leary William Leary.”

“You’re not lying to me, are you, William?”

“No, sir. Not lying.”

“And you’ll answer all my questions?”

“I’ll tell you everything I know.”

Quinn let him stand there for a moment longer, then nodded at Orlando to shut the door.

“So, William,” Quinn said after he returned the man to his seat. “What’s going on with the children?”

Leary looked between the three of them. “You have to understand, I didn’t have a choice. I didn’t know what I was getting into when they hired me, and by the time I got to the base it was too—”

“Orlando, get the door.”

“No! No!” Leary said.

“Then don’t lie to me, William. You knew what was going on. You were a part of it.”

William licked his lips. “I swear I didn’t know what was going on. Mr. Rose threatened to kill me if I didn’t help them.”

“Who is Mr. Rose?” Quinn asked.

“Mr. Rose?” Leary said, confused. “He’s the big boss.”

“The Australian?”

“That’s Tucker. He was in charge of manpower outside of the lab. Security, things like that. And I think he’s the one who brought the children here.”

“So, what? You answered an ad, and took the job without knowing what it was?”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

“You’re lying,” Orlando said. She was looking at the display on her phone.

“What are you talking about?” Leary said.

“Tell us about Wright Memorial Hospital,” she said.

He stared at her, unable to speak at first.

“Don’t remember that?” she asked. “Then how about Helene General Hospital? Or even the Rosen Medical Center.”

“How did you …” Leary’s voice dropped into silence.

Quinn looked at Orlando. The thumb scan she had done had apparently come up with gold.

“He’s a doctor,” she said. “Only he’s a little screwed up. Likes to sell drugs he took from work to schoolkids. Must have half a dozen aliases. Or did I get the wrong William Leary?”

The look on the man’s face told them she was right.

“What kind of doctor?” Quinn asked the man.

He hesitated, trying not to look at Orlando. “General practice.”

“Huh,” Orlando said. “Then they must have got it wrong on your record.”

“What’s it say?” Quinn asked.

“Says that Dr. Leary here is an anesthesiologist.”

“I-I haven’t done that for a while,” Leary stammered.

“How long is a while?” Quinn asked.

“I stopped a couple years ago, okay?”

“Stopped?” Orlando asked.

Leary let out a defeated breath. “My license was revoked. Happy? But then Mr. Rose found me. And he offered me a hell of a lot of money.”

“What did Mr. Rose want you to do?” Quinn asked.

“Keep the children sedated until we need them.”

“Need them for what?”

“You don’t know?” Leary said. “But isn’t that why you’re here?”

No one said anything.

Finally, Leary said, “As a diversion. To get the explosives in.”

No one said anything for nearly thirty seconds.

“What explosives?” Quinn asked.

“They’re built into the juice boxes,” Leary said. “Binary explosives. Clear liquid. Looks harmless.”

“How does it work?” Quinn asked.

“I didn’t work on them directly.”

“But you know,” Quinn said.

Leary looked away, then nodded. “I heard something.”

“What?”

“I was told the chemicals inside were kept in two different compartments inside the pouches. Apparently they’re only dangerous once the divider between them is removed and they mix together. The boxes will go in with the kids.”

“Into where?”

“That I don’t know.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Quinn said.

“I don’t! Really!”

Quinn stared at him, watching to see if he was lying. But he wasn’t. “How are the boxes triggered?”