The Cleaner

CHAPTER 31

The argument over who would actually do the following and who would do the spotting was a quick one. Quinn was the better driver and was more physically suited to take on Borko if it came to that. Reluctantly Orlando agreed to be the lookout. But only on the condition that if she could get back to the car quick enough, he would wait for her.

“Thirty seconds,” Quinn had said.

“Forty-five,” she countered.

He sighed. “That’s it, though. If you’re not there by then, I’m gone.”

The elementary school directly across Schandauer Strasse from the water plant would have been the perfect place to position Orlando. But there was no easy way to get there, so the roof of the apartment building behind it would have to do.

Once again the early darkness of the northern latitudes proved useful. No one paid attention to two more bundled-up pedestrians walking the half-lit streets. It took Quinn less than fifteen seconds to unlock the front security door of the apartment building. Inside, Orlando spotted the stairwell and led the way up. They passed no one, though when they reached the fourth floor, they could hear people talking in the hallway.

There was a landing at the top of the stairs and beyond it a door that led, Quinn hoped, to the roof. The door looked seldom used. Orlando searched around the jamb, then looked at Quinn. “I don’t see any alarms,” she whispered. “Shall I?”

Quinn nodded.

She reached down and tried the knob. It turned, but the door didn’t open. “Deadbolt,” she said.

Quinn motioned for her to step aside, then pulled out his pick set. One of the items in the kit was a simple screwdriver. The deadbolt housing had been mounted from the inside of the building, so it was easy to remove the screws and disassemble the mechanism. Once the deadbolt was retracted, Quinn fiddled with the lock, jamming it so that it would no longer work. Then he put everything back together.

The door looked as it had when they’d first arrived, only now the deadbolt was disengaged and could not be reengaged without the help of a locksmith. Chances were it would be months before anyone noticed. Quinn pulled the door open, and he and Orlando exited the stairwell into the cold darkness of the roof.

They headed toward the back of the building, crouching as they neared the raised lip that surrounded the edge of the roof.

Once they reached it, Quinn peeked over the top. Closest to them was the school. Thankfully, it was a one-story structure that only partially blocked the view of Schandauer Strasse itself and not the water plant. Their position was not optimal but acceptable.

“Give me the glasses,” Quinn said.

Orlando handed him the pair of binoculars Quinn had been carrying around in his backpack since the night Nate was taken. The Rigel 2100 binoculars he owned back home turned night into day. The ones he was holding now turned night into twilight. They would have to do.

He scanned the water plant. Most of the front was dark. The only light was from the single-bulb fixture around the side, above the entrance. There were several cars parked out front. By Quinn’s count: two Mercedes, a Ford, and a Peugeot. Near the entrance was a dark-colored van. Quinn continued his search until he spotted what he knew was already there. Sentries.

There were half a dozen of them scattered across the property. No doubt there were more on the street. This was a huge ramp-up from what the security had been just days before.

Quinn ducked back down behind the protection of the retaining wall. “Here,” he said, returning the binoculars to Orlando, then told her what he’d seen.

“Call me the second you see him,” Quinn said.

“I will.”

Quinn started to back away from the edge.

“Forty-five seconds,” she reminded him.

“That’s all, though,” he said. He pushed himself up and jogged away.

Quinn had parked his car directly in front of the apartment building earlier that afternoon when the street was less crowded. Good thing, too. Now the street was packed with cars parked bumper-to-bumper along both sides.

Quinn sat in the front seat wishing he had a cup of hot coffee, but knowing he was probably more comfortable than Orlando at the moment.

It had been a busy afternoon. In addition to stealing the Mercedes he was sitting in, he’d picked up a few other items they might need. Rope, a crowbar, some other tools, even a phone for Orlando. He’d also spent some more time online, which proved to be both beneficial and frustrating. Beneficial, because he was able to discover the location of the IOMP convention office and was even able to register himself for the convention as Dr. Richard Kubik, from Topeka, Kansas. He wasn’t sure he would need to actually show up, but if he did, having a registration badge would make things much easier.

The only thing that had made him pause was that the convention wasn’t scheduled to begin for another week. Borko had indicated his operation was to start within forty-eight hours. There was a time disconnect Quinn couldn’t yet reconcile.

Time. The convention. The connection to the Office. The very nature of the biological agent itself. All were questions Quinn had no good answers for.

Maybe the IOMP meetings were merely a cover for the delivery of the biological agent. Maybe it was just a coincidence, and Duke had just been trying to mislead Quinn. Or maybe any of a hundred other scenarios. As for the identity of the disease, the answer was just as elusive. Quinn had been hoping the Mole would have gotten back to him with an answer by now. But there had been no word.

But most frustrating had been his lack of progress with his attempt to get to whatever files had been uploaded to Jansen’s FTP server.

He jerked slightly when his phone rang. Orlando’s name was on the display. Quinn put the hands-free earpiece in his ear.

“Yes?” Quinn asked.

“Borko’s here,” Orlando said.

The way Orlando described it to Quinn, Borko arrived in a blue Porsche and waited outside the gate until one of the guards pulled it open. Then he drove onto the lot and around to the side, parking behind the van, near the building entrance. Borko was the only one to get out of his car. As far as she could tell, he’d arrived alone. Borko entered the building, and that’s when she made her call.

A Porsche. Great, Quinn thought. If they ended up out on the Autobahn for some reason, there would be no way his Mercedes would be able to keep up.

It was nearly an hour before Orlando called again. “He just came out.”

Quinn started up the Mercedes, but remained parked at the curb. “What’s he doing?”

“Talking to someone,” she replied. “They’re walking to his car.” A pause. “I’m coming down now.”

“Wait,” Quinn said. “We need to know which direction he goes in.”

“He’ll leave the same way he arrived.”

“You don’t know that.”

Rapid breaths came over the phone, the sounds of someone in motion. “I’m already on my way,” she insisted.

Quinn cursed to himself as he glanced at his watch, then he said, “You’ve got thirty seconds.”

“Forty-five,” she huffed. Quinn guessed she was on the stairs.

“You’ve already used fifteen.”

He pulled the Mercedes away from the curb and onto the street, double-parking in front of the apartment building.

“Fifteen seconds,” he said.

“I’m almost there.”

“Ten.”

“Wait!”

He glanced at the door. No sign of her.

“Time’s up. I’m leaving.”

“Don’t!” she yelled.

Suddenly she burst through the front door and ran toward the car. Quinn reached over and pushed open the passenger door. She jumped in and pulled the door shut behind her.

“Go, go, go,” she said. “Elbestrasse. Right in front of you.”

Quinn pressed down on the accelerator. The Mercedes raced forward toward the end of the block, toward Elbestrasse. When they got to the intersection, Quinn stopped. Elbestrasse was empty.

“Maybe he went the other way,” he said.

“No. This way,” she said.

“Then maybe he already went by and we missed him. Or maybe he hasn’t left at all.”

She said nothing.

Quinn scanned the intersecting street in front of them. Elbestrasse was divided in the middle by a row of large trees and additional street parking. It was still empty. He considered their options, but basically it came down to wait or give up.

Suddenly there was the roar of an engine and the reflection of headlights off the road. A moment later a dark blue Porsche Boxster flashed by.

“See. I told you,” Orlando said.

Quinn let out a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding, then turned left onto Elbestrasse, mere seconds behind Borko.