Shadow of Betrayal

On the drive, Quinn told Orlando and Nate about his meeting with Hardwick. There was one thing he did leave out, though. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, his thinking that given Orlando’s current condition, she didn’t need any more stress. She could learn about Leo Tucker’s involvement later.

“Yellowhammer?” Orlando said. Her voice was low and sleepy.

“That’s what he said.”

“He didn’t tell you where it was?”

“Here in California somewhere. Said we should be able to find it easy enough.”

“Does the name mean anything to you?”

Quinn shook his head. “You?”

“No.” She paused.

There was a momentary lull.

“I’ll check it out when we get to your place,” Orlando said.

Quinn gave her a quick sideways glance. She was leaning against the passenger door, her eyes half-closed.

“Nate can do it,” Quinn said. “You’re going to bed.”

“That’s sweet, Quinn. But I don’t think I’m going to be in the mood.” Even in her near-semiconscious state, she was able to crack a smile.

“Oh, God,” Nate said. “My ears. I didn’t really need to hear that.”

•    •    •

Quinn’s house was built against one of the many slopes of the Hollywood Hills. The top floor was at street level and contained the living room, dining room, and kitchen in an open format that made it feel almost like one room. The floor below, following the incline of the hill, contained the bedrooms and a gym.

As soon as he got Orlando settled in the master bedroom, he returned upstairs. Nate sat at the kitchen table using Quinn’s laptop to try and get a line on Yellowhammer. Quinn didn’t want to disturb his progress, so he grabbed his phone and walked to the other end of the living room.

He stood in front of the plate glass window that made up the whole rear wall of this level, and looked out on the city. The L.A. basin glowed white with millions of individual lights, some moving, some stationary, but all adding to the visual mix of the city.

He took a deep breath, then looked down at his phone and called Peter.

“I expected to hear from you hours ago,” Peter said, irritated.

“I had a man down.”

“Jesus,” Peter said. “I saw the news. The shooting at the museum. Who?”

“Orlando.”

Silence. “Is … is she okay?”

“She’ll be sore for a while, but she’ll live.”

“What happened?”

Quinn gave him the rundown of the fun at the museum. “I’m willing to bet it was the same people who hired the assassin in Ireland.”

“I think you’re right,” Peter said. “Tell me about the meeting.”

“You mean the meeting with the guy from the LP?” Quinn said with no attempt to hide his anger. “The goddamn LP, Peter. I thought you were working against them, not using them as an information asset.”

More dead air.

“How long have you known?” Quinn asked.

Still no response.

“Peter, how the hell long have you known?”

A chair in the kitchen screeched against the floor. Quinn glanced over and caught Nate looking at him before his apprentice could look away. Nate grabbed an apple off the counter and returned to the laptop.

“Not long,” Peter said.

“That’s a bullshit answer.”

“After Ireland, all right?”

Quinn stared out into the night. “The assassin,” he said.

“Yes,” Peter said. “Once we ID’d him we realized he was on an LP watch list. We didn’t know if he worked for them for sure, but we knew it was a possibility.”

“What happened? He break when you questioned him?”

“He didn’t break.”

“Losing your touch?”

“He didn’t break because someone got to him before he gave anything up.”

“Someone got to him?” Quinn couldn’t believe it.

“He wasn’t under our control. We handed him over to the DDNI as soon as the plane landed. One of my men worked up the ID kit on the plane. Fingerprints, hair and saliva samples, photos. But by the time we were able to figure out who he was, he was already dead. The Agency stuck him in a supposedly secure safe house, but he didn’t even last that first night. A suicide pill slipped to him by one of the agents in the facility. The agent left before anyone knew what happened and hasn’t been seen since. The DDNI was furious, but there was nothing he could do. When I confronted him with what I’d found out, he was reluctant at first, but I think he realized he had to close ranks and use only his most trusted assets. Apparently I was one of those.”

“Help me out, Peter,” Quinn said. “The DDNI was getting information from someone in the LP, and the LP was also trying to kill his messenger and yours? How does that make sense?”

A pause.

“The contact was anonymous. He used some back channels to reach DDNI Jackson directly. Based on who you say Primus is, he could have just walked into the Deputy Director’s office and left a package on his desk.”

“Is that how it was done?”

“No. Emails, and a letter to Jackson’s home. Primus provided information on some small things at first. A planned kidnapping of a Russian official’s daughter by the Chechens in Odessa. DDNI Jackson passed that information on to his counterpart in Moscow. The kidnappers were caught, and the plan was exposed. And you remember what happened to Anton Likharev?”