“Halt.”
Quinn whipped around, his gun quickly moving back into his hand. The voice had come from behind him to the right and very near. Quinn saw the shadow of a man. Without hesitating he pulled his trigger.
There was the spit of a bullet passing through the suppressor, followed almost immediately by a thump as the sentry’s body hit the ground. Quinn hurried toward the guard, his gun held in front of him. But it was unnecessary. The man was dead.
From around the side of the building came the sound of running footsteps. Quinn searched the sentry’s body quickly for the dead man’s gun. He found a Glock with its own suppressor in the man’s right hand. Quinn grabbed the gun, then watched the side of the building intently.
Seconds later another man came around the corner. Quinn fired the Glock so that the bullet would come close to the new man but not hit him.
The man retreated quickly back around the corner, then called out, “Rolf, it’s me!”
Quinn let off another shot, and the man returned fire. That was what Quinn was waiting for. He let off one more shot, then dropped the Glock near the dead man’s hand. He sprinted back along the wall until he was a safe distance away, hidden in the shadows.
The second guard fired his gun two more times, then waited. When there was no return fire, the guard called out again. “Rolf?”
A second voice joined the first. “What is it?”
“Rolf just shot at me.”
“Are you sure?” the second voice asked.
Quinn didn’t wait to hear the rest. Soon enough they would discover that Rolf was dead, and if Quinn was right, they’d assume that Rolf was the one who had shot first. It was a trick Durrie had taught Quinn, but this was the first time he’d ever used it.
The activity surrounding the dead guard created a large, temporary hole in the building’s security. Quinn saw no one else as he made his escape.
CHAPTER 25
Having little choice, Quinn knew he’d have to return to Sophie’s for one more night. On the way, he stopped once more in Ku’damm.
In the low light of the stairwell, he almost didn’t see it. It didn’t help that he had been prepping himself to find nothing. A mind often sees what it expects. When he did see it, he had to rub his finger over it to be sure that it was really there.
A gray square, affixed to the handrail next to his.
Orlando.
She was alive, and she was free. Quinn had to force himself to breathe again. Carefully he removed another purple square from his bag and placed it halfway on top of the gray one. If all went according to plan, they would meet up at 10:00 a.m. the next morning.
“When?” Sophie asked.
“In the morning,” Quinn said.
He expected her to ask him why he was leaving or where he was going, or even what he’d been thinking coming back to her in the first place. But she didn’t.
“Unless you want me to leave now.”
A sly smile crossed her face. “What I want?” she said. She began to grind her hips against him. “What I want is more of this.”
Quinn awoke early again the next morning, collected his things, and left before Sophie stirred. Even though he had told her he might return, coming back for a second night had been taking a big chance. He told himself it would be the last time, though. He couldn’t tempt fate for a third night.
He took a taxi to Potsdamer Platz, where he was able to buy a breakfast sandwich in the lower level of the mall. Upstairs were the typical stores one would expect to find. Quinn first located a Saturn store, a franchise specializing in electronics, and purchased a charging unit for his phone. Next he went down one level and found a shop where he picked up a few more shirts before venturing back outside.
He spent thirty minutes making sure he wasn’t being watched, then made his way into the S-bahn station and down to the northbound S2 platform. He almost expected to find her standing there on the platform when he arrived. But though there were over a dozen people waiting for the next train, Orlando wasn’t one of them.
Quinn took up a position at one end near an exit tunnel. He checked his watch. It was 10:05 a.m. She was late. Three minutes later a new train arrived. As the doors opened, a group of elementary-age children and their outnumbered adult supervisors disembarked. The noise level on the platform increased exponentially.
Quinn scanned the handful of other passengers who also got off. Still no Orlando. There were a few chaotic moments as arriving passengers headed for the exit and departing passengers made their way onto the train. Then suddenly the train was gone, and the platform was quiet and empty.
No, not completely empty, Quinn noted. Someone was leaning against the wall at the far end. By the way the person stood, Quinn immediately thought female, though she was bundled up in a way that made it difficult to confirm.
She was looking in Quinn’s direction, so he began walking toward her. As he neared he noticed a red and black checkered scarf wrapped around her face in a way that left only her eyes exposed. Her Asian eyes.
If he hadn’t been so well trained, he would have broken into a large smile of relief. Instead he made no indication that he had recognized her. He kept walking, heading toward a staircase that would take him back up to ground level, without giving her a second glance.
Even with the training, it took all of his willpower not to turn and make sure she was following him. But the Berlin train system was covered by cameras, and while it was highly unlikely Borko would have the resources to check them all, it was safer to assume he did. The last thing Quinn wanted was for Borko to know they’d found each other.
Once he was outside, he allowed himself to be consumed by the morning crowd. A moment later, she was beside him.
“Nate?” she asked, her voice partially muffled by the scarf across her mouth.
“No sign yet,” Quinn said. “Are you okay?”
“A couple scrapes. Nothing serious.”
They walked past a mother pushing her baby in a stroller, then an elderly couple weighed down with plastic shopping bags.
“What took you so long to check in?” Quinn asked.
“Not sure you’ve noticed this, but I don’t exactly blend into the crowd here,” she said. “I couldn’t get there the night we were blown. So I found someplace safe and stayed there. No way I was going to show my face in the daytime, so yesterday was out. At least until after dark. That’s when I found out you were still alive.”
“It’s daytime now.”
“Yeah, I’m not too happy about being out here. Come on,” she said. “I’ve got us a room at the Mandola Suites.”
“What?” Quinn stopped, and looked straight at her for the first time. “Hotels are the first place Borko will look.”
“We have to stay someplace, don’t we?” she asked.
“What if someone already made you when you checked in?”
She shook her head. “No chance. I did it all by phone. Had a messenger pick up the key and bring it to me at Friedrichstrasse Station. As far as he knew, I was just someone’s assistant. Yours, I guess.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an electronic keycard.
As far as hotels went, the Mandola Suites was an excellent choice, especially given their situation. It had been designed with the long-term guest in mind. There were several private entrances, which meant guests never had to pass through the lobby. Each room was also equipped with a kitchen. And, best yet, it was right there in Potsdamer Platz. Their room was on the fifth floor, and had a view of Leipziger Strasse. Unfortunately, Orlando had only been able to secure a one-bedroom suite, so Quinn would have to camp out on the couch.