Shadow of Betrayal

Every year the meeting would rotate to another of the member nations: Canada, France, Germany, Italy, Japan, Russia, the United Kingdom, and the United States. It was designed to provide an opportunity for the leaders of some of the world’s most powerful nations to discuss whatever issues were deemed important at the time. And this year, it was the U.S.’s turn to host.

“Impossible,” Peter said. “The government’s got the whole area sealed off. Highway 1 is closed just north of Cambria and south of Gorda. No way anyone can get close even by air. And bringing a bunch of kids with them? Not a chance.”

“Check the schedule.”

“Hold on.” The line went silent for several seconds. “Nothing. There are meetings all day for the next two days. There is a dinner each night.”

“Entertainment?” Quinn asked.

Peter paused again. “Yes. But nothing matching your group of children. Yo-Yo Ma tonight and Harry Connick, Jr., tomorrow.”

Quinn frowned. “It doesn’t matter. We know basically where they’re going. You should be able to pick them up on radar, and if not, you get a large enough force out there, you’ll find them before dawn.”

Peter said nothing.

“What is it?” Quinn asked.

“I can’t get ahold of my client at the Agency.”

“What?”

“He’s dropped out of sight. Not answering his phone.”

“Then call somebody else.”

“I’ve been trying, but no one is taking my calls.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Peter? You’ve got a ton of people you can reach.”

“The Office has been shut out,” Peter said. “The word has gone out not to deal with us.”

“What? How do you know that?”

“Because the goddamn Assistant Director of the NSA told me right before he hung up.”

“You’ve got to keep trying,” Quinn said. “My team and I can’t do this alone.”

“I realize that.”

“Then stop talking to me and do something about it.” Quinn ended the call.

He looked out the window. Where the black mass of the mountains didn’t block out the sky, he saw stars. He stared at them, his mind going blank.

“You should try to get a little sleep,” Orlando said. “You’ve been going almost twenty-four hours. Even thirty minutes will help.”

“You’ve been going as long as I have.”

“Took a nap at the hotel when I thought you were just on a little scouting mission.”

It was hard to miss the sarcasm in her voice, and it wasn’t the funny kind, either.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “The opportunity to get in came up, so I had to take it.”

The left side of her mouth turned up in a smirk.

“All in all,” he said, “it looks like it was a good decision.”

He knew she couldn’t argue that. Still, she looked like she wanted to put up a fight.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

She closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “Sleep. Don’t sleep. I don’t care.”

She got up and walked to the other end of the passenger hold.

Quinn wanted to go after her, but he thought maybe it was best not to. Despite her nap, she had to be as tired as he was. She just needed a little space, he thought.

He slumped in his chair and stared at the floor. At what point his own eyes closed and he fell asleep, he had no idea.

“We’re here.” It was Nate’s voice, very close to Quinn’s ear.

Quinn opened his eyes. The cabin was dim, but he could see Marion Dupuis stretched out on the other side of the cabin.

The roar of the engine was unchanged, and from the way everything was still moving up and down, side to side, Quinn knew they were still in the air.

He sat up. “The pilot,” he said.

“Orlando’s watching him.”

“How long was I out?”

“A little over an hour.”

Quinn blinked several times, then looked out the window. Night still, but the massive Sierra Nevada mountains were gone. In the distance he could see the glow of a city on the horizon. He checked his watch. It was a few minutes before 4 a.m.

“Where exactly are we?” he asked as he stood up.

“Those lights out there are from Santa Maria. We’re about forty miles south, right where the pilot said he was to receive his next instructions. But there’s no sign of the others.”

“North,” Quinn said. “They’ll be on the other side of Santa Maria somewhere. As close as they can get to Hearst Castle without drawing any attention.”

“It’s a pretty tight perimeter up there. There’s a message on the radio warning of a no-fly zone starting south of Arroyo Grande. That’s only about fifteen miles beyond Santa Maria.”

“I need to see a map,” Quinn said.

“There’s one up front.”

•    •    •

There were only two seats in the cockpit. Orlando sat in the one on the left, the gun in her hand pointed at the pilot. He was sitting in the one on the right.

They both glanced over as Quinn leaned between them.

The look on the pilot’s face was tense. Quinn noticed sweat streaks running past his eyes and down his cheeks.

“Where’s the map?” Quinn asked.

“Behind my chair,” Orlando said.