Julien was quiet for a moment. “I suppose. Is this a good job?”
“I’m sure you won’t want to miss it.”
“Where?”
“Las Vegas.”
“Vegas? I have not been there in many years. I like this idea. When do you need me?”
“Tomorrow, as early as possible.”
“Tomorrow for me? Or tomorrow for you? It’s already Saturday here.”
“Tomorrow for me. Today for you.”
“I don’t know if I-”
“Find a way, Julien,” Quinn said, his tone dead serious. “I need you here.”
The humor that normally ran through Julien’s voice vanished. “Let me see what I can do.”
“Thank you.”
Quinn hung up and made a second call. “Jergins? This is Quinn.”
“What’s up?” the team leader asked.
“I’ve been giving it some thought, and I think I’m going to bring in a man to help out. It’ll just keep things smoother.”
“Sure. Do you have a name?”
“Not yet. I’ll make some calls.”
“All right. As soon as you know who it is, let me know. Peter wants a listing of all those involved.”
Having zero intention of actually doing that, Quinn said, “No problem.”
CHAPTER 16
ROME, ITALY
It had been a quiet night outside Julien’s apartment building. Quinn had taken the second shift, the hardest because it split sleep time in half, or it would have if he had actually fallen back to sleep when he returned to the room. Eventually, he gave up trying and went out for a long walk around the city.
When he returned, Nate was dressed and about to head down for the breakfast that came with the room.
“You going to go relieve Daeng after you eat?” Quinn asked.
Nate gave a hesitant nod, and said, “I have someone I need to meet first.”
“Oh? Who?”
“If you haven’t noticed, we’re a little equipment shy. I thought it’d be good to gear up a bit.”
Of course, Quinn thought. “Bianchi?”
“No. He’s out of the business.”
“What?”
“Heart attack.”
“Dead?”
Nate shook his head. “Just scared the hell out of him apparently. He left the city and moved in with a daughter somewhere in the south.”
In the past, Quinn would have been up on news like this, but during his exile, the world had moved on. “Who took his place?”
“Several players have stepped up, but none to Bianchi’s level. The guy I’m seeing is named Nicholas Giacona. I used him once before. Seems okay.”
I used him once before? Quinn was surprised. Nate had apparently been busy while he was gone. “You want me to come along?”
“Sure. You can help carry the bags.”
The taxi dropped them off two blocks from their destination. The area was crowded with cafes and shops and other businesses, but at this early hour, it was only the cafes serving breakfast that were open.
“It’s up this way,” Nate said.
Though he’d been to Giacona’s place only the one time, he remembered the route well. He led Quinn to the end of the block, through a narrow alley, then half a block down the next street before stopping in front of an unmarked door next to a butcher shop. On the wall near the jamb was an intercom. Nate pushed the button.
“ Si?” a male voice said through the box.
“ Buon giorno,” Nate said. “I have an appointment.”
“ Signor Quinn?”
“ Si,” Nate said quickly, fighting the urge to look at his mentor.
The door buzzed and he pulled it open. On the other side was a scuffed-up hallway that ran the length of the building. There were several doors along it, all closed.
As they neared the back, Quinn said, “Are you going to explain that, or-”
The door at the very end opened, and a fiftysomething Italian guy with a goatee and salt-and-pepper hair looked out. “Quinn. Good to see you again.”
Nate picked up his pace, and extended his hand. “I appreciate you getting up so early, Nicholas.”
As they started to shake, Giacona noticed Quinn for the first time. “Your friend, who is he?”
“This is Jonathan. We’re working together.”
Giacona eyed Quinn for a moment. “If you say he’s okay, fine.”
“He’s okay,” Nate said.
The arms dealer nodded. “Then come in, come in.” He waved for them to follow him and disappeared inside.
Before they could step through the doorway, Quinn grabbed Nate’s arm and pulled him back a few feet. “Why’s he calling you Quinn?”
“Later,” Nate said.
“Does he think you’re me?”
“I said later.” Nate had known this was something that would eventually come up, but he couldn’t worry about it. He’d done what he had to do.
They passed through the doorway into a workshop that took up half the space of the ground floor. There were lathes and drill presses and hydraulic metal cutters and several other machines Nate didn’t even try to figure out. To most of the world, Giacona ran a small but efficient machine shop that specialized in repairs and customized metal work. To those in Nate’s and Quinn’s world, he was a local supplier who was building a reputation as an expert in all things hard to get.
“Your call surprised me,” Giacona said. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”
“A last-minute thing,” Nate told him.
“Something I should know about?”
“Is it ever?”
That elicited a laugh from the Italian. “I always like to ask. So, what is it you need today?”
Fifteen minutes later, they left with three SIG Sauer P226 pistols-Quinn’s weapon of choice and one Nate was growing fonder of-extra clips and ammunition, a couple miniature remote video cameras with built-in wireless connectivity, a compact set of short-range bugs and tracking devices, six sets of communication gear, and, as a last-second request from Nate, a set of lock picks. Everything fit nicely into a single, medium-sized duffel bag.
“Okay, it’s later,” Quinn said once they were on the street.
Nate looked around to make sure no one was nearby, then focused on his old boss. “He called me Quinn because I am Quinn to him, and to several others, too.”
“Others? What are you talking about?”
“After you left, we still had calls coming in, jobs that wanted only Quinn.”
Quinn’s eyes widened. “You…pretended to be me?”
“I had to keep things going. I didn’t know if you were coming back or not, but if you were, I thought it would be better if your reputation didn’t tank completely while you were gone. So, yeah, I told people I was Quinn, not Jonathan Quinn, just Quinn. And you know what? I took jobs, did them, and never once had a complaint or problem.”
“What if I don’t return? You’ll just go on being Quinn?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’ve been doing this for you. Holding things together for you. If you can’t see that, it’s not my problem.”
Nate started walking again. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. His anger was unfair, he knew, but he couldn’t rid himself of it. No matter how much he knew that Quinn’s disappearance had been necessary, he was having a hard time forgiving his mentor for basically abandoning him.
A few seconds later, he heard steps behind him, but didn’t turn to look. Then Quinn drew abreast of him, and they walked in silence to the end of the block where several taxis were parked.
“Nate,” Quinn said before they climbed into one of the cabs.
Nate turned.
“I…” Quinn paused, his head twisting to the side as if frustrated. Finally he looked back. “I’m not sure what to say. It seems every time I…I open my mouth, I…” He stopped again. “I wanted to forget about the world, isolate myself and clear my head. The thing is, I didn’t think about the world continuing on without me.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens.”
“I have no right to be angry about any of it, but that doesn’t mean I won’t react without thinking again.”
“So are you apologizing for now or the future?”
“Both, I guess.”
“I’m not going to let you off that easy,” Nate said as he opened the cab’s door. “We’ll take it on a case-by-case basis.”