All the crap that had gone down since then, however, made it hard for him to deny he was good at what he did. Very good. And as tempting as sitting on a beach doing nothing was, his taste for the job had been reignited. There was another reason, too, one deep down inside he had no intention of sharing with anyone: the thought that if he didn’t stay in the game, he wouldn’t be able to properly react if someone threatened his friends or family again. He had to stay in the secret world. He had to remain sharp. He had to protect those he cared about.
The next decisions after the Duran Island debacle had been about the business itself. There was Nate, of course. Quinn’s former apprentice had been keeping things going while Quinn was away, even using Quinn’s name to maintain appearances. They could have parted ways like Quinn had done with Durrie not long after he completed his own apprenticeship, but Quinn offered Nate an equal partnership and Nate had accepted.
“For now, anyway,” Nate had said. “We’ll see how things go.”
The partnership Quinn proposed wasn’t just for the two of them. Orlando would make them a trio. Her role in their new configuration was the final decision that needed resolution. Her injuries were still a long way from being completely healed, and while she insisted she would be fine in the field, she had not put up much of an argument when Quinn proposed she take on the role of manager, handling such things as job requests and overall logistics, which she’d always taken care of anyway.
The Copenhagen job was the first under the new structure. Not exactly an auspicious beginning, but their portion of the project had gone off without a hitch.
Orlando found a parking spot almost directly in front of her house. As they climbed out, she pulled her phone from her pocket, checked the screen, and held the device up to her ear. Quinn moved ahead of her and started up the stairs to the front door. When he reached the porch, he looked back, expecting her to be right behind him, but she had stopped on the sidewalk, still listening to the phone.
As she lowered it a few seconds later, she looked surprised and a bit confused.
“What?” he asked.
She didn’t answer. Didn’t even look at him.
“Orlando.”
She blinked and turned in his direction.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“A voice mail,” she said. “From Abraham.”
CHAPTER 7
It took everything Abraham had to keep the rental car at the pace of the traffic around him. As much as he would have liked to press the accelerator to the floor, he knew that would only draw attention, something he had to avoid at all costs.
God, he couldn’t remember the last time he had felt this nervous.
“Yes, I have,” Eli had said when he’d called Abraham back.
The admission had so stunned Abraham he was barely able to speak. “What…?”
“I think it’s best if we meet,” Eli said.
Abraham struggled through the shock. “Of course. Um, I can come to you. Should be able to get to DC in—”
“Not DC.”
“You’re not there?”
“I soon won’t be.”
For the first time, Abraham could hear fear in his friend’s voice. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Might be nothing,” Eli said. “I’m probably overreacting.” A short pause. “Look, can you get to Tampa by tomorrow?”
“Florida?”
“Yes.”
“I can probably get there by tonight,” Abraham said. If the San Diego airport didn’t have any direct flights, he could hop up to LAX in Los Angeles, which had one.
“Tomorrow. Eleven a.m. Azure Waves Hotel. Ask for Charles Young.”
“Okay. I’ll be there.”
“Don’t tell anyone.”
Abraham had been right about being able to get there that night, but just barely. Because of flight schedules and the time difference with the East Coast, he’d arrived in Tampa not long before midnight. When he got to his hotel, he had tried to sleep, but because he was so wired, he only picked up an hour here and there.
Seven years earlier, after he had left the girl named Tessa with the pickup team in Amsterdam, he had left the espionage life and traded his townhome in eastern San Diego for a small bungalow in the Pacific Beach area. He had planned on leading a quiet life — jogging along the beach, reading books, and drinking more than his fair share of wine. He’d even thought he could volunteer some of his time at the tutoring center where he’d first spotted Orlando before taking her on as an apprentice. And while he ended up doing all of those things, none could push away the memories of Tessa.
“Abe!” she called to him. “Abe! Abe! Abe!”
Whether he was asleep or awake, it didn’t matter. She called.
“Don’t leave.”
But he had, and it had been the worst decision of his life.
Six months into his retirement, he had called Eli.
“I need to know what happened to her,” he’d told his friend. “I need to know she’s all right.”
Eli had been hesitant, but said he would do what he could.
For a while, Abraham checked in with him every week, but the analyst would always tell him he had found nothing new. Operation Overtake was sealed tight. To keep from annoying his friend too much, Abraham cut his calls down to once a month, and then once a year on the anniversary of when he’d last seen Tessa.
With the years stacking up, he had come to believe Eli would never find anything. But finally his old friend had, and Abraham could barely keep his hands from shaking at the prospect of learning what it was.
He found the Azure Waves Hotel a few blocks from the beach and pulled into the lot. It was a decent-sized place, with a trio of buildings surrounding what he figured was a pool area. And while it was no Four Seasons, it seemed like a nice old resort, someplace where families on a budget would be more than content to stay.
Abraham climbed out of the car and headed over to the lobby entrance.
The interior sported a retro 1960s décor, complete with a few scattered lava lamps and three plastic egg chairs. A few guests were gathered around a display of brochures, and some kids were sitting on a couch staring down at game consoles in their hands.
“Welcome to the Azure Waves Hotel. How can I help you?” the male receptionist asked when Abraham approached. The receptionist’s name tag identified him as Devon.
“Good morning,” Abraham said. “I’m meeting a friend of mine. I believe he’s staying here.”
Devon smiled. “Your friend’s name?”
“Charles Young.”
The receptionist typed it into his computer and looked at the screen. After a moment, his helpful expression turned into a puzzled one.
“Everything all right?” Abraham asked.
Devon donned a quick smile. “One moment,” he said, and then stepped through a doorway along the back wall.
Abraham did not like the look of this. He plopped his arms on the counter as if bored, and sneaked a look at the computer screen. The name Charles Young was there, with the room number 721 beside it. There was some text in a box lower on the screen, but the font size was too small for him to read.
Soon, the receptionist reappeared, bringing with him an older blonde woman in a business suit.
“Good morning, sir,” the woman said. “I’m Keri, the assistant manager. I understand you were looking for one of our guests.”
“Yeah. Charles Young. I’m supposed to meet him here. Is there a problem?”