Chapter 15

Armed with pictures of the men they were looking for, Quinn was camped outside the address that Spencer had texted him, watching to see if anyone came or went from the house. He had been sitting in one position so long that he had lost feeling in one foot and his stomach hurt at being crammed into such a small space. He didn't relish standing up, but knew he would have to stretch soon to get rid of the cramp. Quinn turned his attention back to the house as one of the curtains fluttered, and he tried to determine if anyone was inside. These were not the jobs he was used to…he was used to hiding, taking pictures, and knocking heads together, but on his own terms; not at the command of someone else, and especially not someone like Spencer. Still, it was an easy enough job, and he was getting paid very well for it. Spencer had hired him for a few jobs after Quinn had called in the favor the other man had promised him and he was starting to think that in addition to business partners, they were on their way to becoming friends, as much as hitters had friends, anyway.

Quinn sent a text, informing Eliot of what he had seen, and what he hadn't, and requesting further instructions. If he were running the job, he would probably go busting through the door, and let the chips fall where they may. Playing cat and mouse had never really been his style, and though he knew what Eliot's team suspected the man of doing, he had also seen the picture, and the guy didn't look all that tough. Hitters could tell, though other people might not believe how or why they could tell, but they could. There was something—some kind of hardness around the eyes and mouth, something about the way they moved, something in their manner that set them apart.

Fifteen minutes passed, and then half an hour, and he had received no response to his text message. It wasn't like Spencer not to have answered him right away, though he wouldn't if he were engaged in something. Tired of waiting and needing to stretch, he made his way under cover of trees, closer to the house. The last eight or ten feet or so was more open, and it would be harder to avoid being seen, if anyone was watching. He waited for a long time to see if his movement had been noticed—if anyone came to investigate the (quiet) rustling of the bushes. No one did.

Quinn scoped out the area. He saw a tree. If he could move fast enough, he could be behind that tree, or up in the top of it, and a person could be standing in the house or anywhere outside it and would be hard pressed to see him. Quinn was poised with one knee bent, ready to dart behind the tree, when he heard a voice in his ear and the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

(0o0)

Hardison swallowed hard as he carefully opened Eliot's phone. He knew what a private man Eliot was, and somehow, looking at his phone without his knowledge or consent felt wrong. He resolved to seek only the information he needed. When he scrolled to the text messages, he saw that there was one from Bonanno and another one from Quinn. He swallowed hard as he read both silently. Up to this point, he had thought he knew what Eliot did. Busting heads seemed pretty simple. But right now, he had no idea what to tell these people—not even any idea what Eliot would tell them. He had no idea how much strategy was involved in Eliot's job.

Hardison jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Another hand set down a glass of orange soda at the same time.

"I didn't mean to startle you." The mastermind stood behind him, looking over his shoulder at the computer screen.

"No. I just wasn't expecting you, Nate, but I'm glad you are here. What do you think Eliot was thinking?"

"About keeping us safe. Protecting Parker."

"So what do I tell these people?"

Hardison held Eliot's phone out to the mastermind. Nate took it and read the two messages silently. Finally he typed a new message, then another before he closed the phone and handed it back to the other man.

"What did you say?"

"We have a responsibility to keep Quinn clear until we know what Vance and Kitty want to know about the mission. We can't risk him being captured and put in prison. I'm going to meet him at the safe house in fifteen minutes. I've asked Bonanno to meet me there in forty. I'll touch base when I've finished. If you don't hear from me in an hour, call Bonanno's men and tell them what is going on, and ask them to investigate."

"Got it. Be careful, man."

"I always am."

(0o0)

It took Quinn only a matter of moments before the person pointing the gun at him was disarmed and staring down the barrel of his own weapon.

"Why is that?" Quinn asked, looking the man up and down.

"What?"

"When I started to go near that house, you told me you wouldn't do that if you were me. Why is that?"

The wide eyed man didn't answer, but stood, biting his lip and trying to figure out what he could do.

"Nothing to say, huh. Maybe we should just go see." Dragging the man by his collar, Quinn crossed the open area with him in one hand and his gun in the other. He hauled the man up the concrete steps onto the small stoop, and practically threw him through the front door, but not before kicking it open first. His captive landed in a heap on the floor inside the door, and Quinn smiled a wicked smile of satisfaction. Just then, his phone beeped. Now Spencer decides to answer me.

Working quickly and efficiently, Quinn bound the man to a chair by hands and feet, and then cleared the house, room by room. He didn't know what Spencer's plans were, but he didn't need any nasty surprises messing them up. He saved the room with the window he saw from his position outside the house for last, as he was unsure of what he would find there.

He choked back the bile that rose in his throat at the stench in the room. He flipped the light switch, but nothing happened. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw that the tiny bedroom had dingy walls that were once white. A metal bed frame sat in one corner of the room, with a thin mattress and a threadbare quilt. The shag carpeting was worn and discolored, though that might have been an improvement, and the lace curtains had holes in them. At first glance, the room was empty, but Quinn didn't miss the chains attached to one wall. He thought he had heard a surprised gasp when he entered the room, and he knew no one had left. Besides, his captive was way too nervous for the room to have been empty. Someone was here…somewhere. It was simply a matter of finding them.

He followed the chain until it disappeared under the closed door of what presumably was a closet. He tried to open the door, but it appeared to be locked. He was hesitant to kick in the door, since he wasn't sure how far the chain extended, nor where the person attached to it might be in relation to the door. He slid a lethal looking knife out of his boot, and slid it between the door frame and the door and popped the lock. Opening the door carefully, he stepped inside. Huddled against the wall beside the door was a small figure. The figure tried to disappear into the wall at his approach. He reached with the knife to pop the lock, and heard a terrified sob.

"Shh. Don't move and I won't hurt you."

The figure froze and a moment later, he had popped open the shackle that held the person there. Judging by the size of the figure, she was female, but in the dimness, there was no way to tell. He unceremoniously picked up the figure huddled there, and walked back out the way he came. When he got back out into the hallway, where sunlight shone in the windows, he put her gently down. He drew his phone out of his pocket and looked at the message.

"Are you able to walk?"

"I-I think so."

"Good. Here's what happens next. We're going to walk outside, get into my truck, and I'm going to take you somewhere safe and get you some medical attention. I have some friends who would like to talk to you."

"No. I just want to go home."

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I have to insist," he said, knife still in hand. He motioned her forward and she walked down the long hallway to the foyer. When they got there, Quinn hesitated, looking around him.

"Let's go before they come back." He didn't answer. "What are you looking for anyway?" she asked, after another moment.

He shook himself, as if to rid himself of a bad dream, and said, "Nothing. Let's go," as he helped her into his truck and closed the door.

He hadn't said anything out loud because he didn't want to alarm her. The man he had tied up and left there was gone.