Brett Battles - The Silenced

“What circumstances?”

“I’m sorry to say David is dead,” Mr. Smith said.

“Dead?” Quinn said, acting surprised.

“Apparently he was shot.”

“When?”

“This morning.”

“By whom?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Quinn. Do you?”

“I have no idea,” Quinn said. Could this guy really have found out about Wills’s death already? It was plausible. Mercer, if he was indeed working for Wills, would have informed Wills’s organization, and then they might have begun notifying clients to assure them that current operations were not compromised. Plausible, but the timeline was tight.

“I thought as much, but it is good to hear. The reason I’m calling you is to make sure you’re planning on completing the job. You’ve already been paid, and nicely, I might add. I only ask that once you have the package in your possession, you consider calling me. I would like to dispose of it myself. But if you are not comfortable with that, I understand. Fair?”

“Yeah, see, that’s not the way it works. First I verify what you’re telling me about Wills is true. If it is, then I immediately remove myself, putting as much distance between me and anyone connected with Wills as possible.

Including you. So if your information’s good, you’ll have to find someone else. I’m done.”

Dead air for a moment, then, “What?”

“Done,” Quinn said. “No longer on the job.”

“You’ve been hired for the task. I expect you to carry it out. Mr. Quinn, maybe we should meet in person. We can discuss this-”

“There’s nothing to discuss. Per my standard agreement, in the case that my client is killed, I can terminate my involvement at my discretion. You can be sure I’ll be exercising that clause.”

“Mr. Quinn, that is not an opt-”

Quinn disconnected the call.

“Are you sure that was such a good idea?” Orlando asked.

Quinn’s phone began to vibrate again. BLOCKED on the display.

He pushed the button rejecting the call.

“We have more important things to worry about than a body in a wall,” Quinn said. “We’re off.”

A vibration.

Without even opening his eyes, Nate reached out and grabbed his bag off the floor. Back in college the vibration of a phone wouldn’t have even caused him to stir in his sleep. But now, no matter how deep he was under, it immediately woke him.

The room was still dark, the only illumination seeping in coming from the streetlights outside. Nate activated his phone, then squinted at the sudden brightness of the screen. Once his pupils adjusted, he could see he’d received a text message from Julien.

All quiet out front. Let me know when you’re up.

Nate looked at the clock at the top corner of the display. 5:07 a.m. He tapped out a reply:

Up now, thanks to you.

Julien texted back:

You’re welcome.

There was no use trying to go back to sleep. Nate knew from experience it wouldn’t come. His mind was already alert. He turned off the no-longer-needed alarm he’d set for 6 a.m., then put his phone down and swung his legs off the couch.

He listened for any other noise in the apartment, but all was quiet. Liz apparently didn’t have friends who texted her at five in the morning. Making as little noise as possible, he crossed the living room to the entry.

After Liz had gone to bed, he had braced one of her dining room chairs under the handle of the front door for added security. The last thing he wanted was for her to see it there, so he picked it up and carried it back to where he’d found it.

He thumbed through some of Liz’s magazines, then perused the books on her shelves, before deeming it late enough to take a shower. By 6:20, he was dressed and ready for the day. He began to make bets with himself on when he would hear Liz get up. The winning time turned out to be 7:37 a.m. But it was almost an hour later before she joined him in the living room.

She was wearing dark jeans, a white sweater, a pair of brown boots, and had wrapped a multicolored scarf around her neck. After what had happened the previous night, Nate had been anxious about the moment they would see each other again. As she looked at him, he thought, Here it comes. The I’ve-been-thinking-it-might-be-better-if-you-stay-in-a-hostel speech. Or the listen-last-night-I-drank-a-little-too-much-so-if-I-led-you-to- think-anything-I’m-sorry line followed by the hostel speech.

“Good morning,” she said, a hint of a smile.

“Bonjour,” Nate said.

“Aha. Nice. You work on that all night?”

“As a matter of fact I did. Didn’t sleep at all.”

“Well, it sounds like it paid off.” She stared through him. Now, for sure, he thought. I’m so kicked out. “I’ve been thinking…”

He suppressed a laugh.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing. Sorry.”

Her eyes narrowed as if she was assessing him anew, but then she smiled. “I’ve been thinking that I really don’t want to go to class this morning. So, why don’t we grab some breakfast, then visit one of those places we just looked at from the outside yesterday. Maybe the Louvre? Take in the Mona Lisa? How’s that sound?”

He was stunned into momentary silence. That was definitely not the hostel speech.

“No?” she said.

“Ah, no. I mean, yes,” he said. “That sounds great. But I don’t want to mess you up at school.”

“If I thought it was going to mess me up, I wouldn’t do it.”

“Okay. Sure. I’d love it.” He stood up and met her at the entrance hall.

“Besides,” she said as she pulled her jacket out of the closet, “I’d have probably taken the day off whether you were here or not.”

“I feel so special.”

“Thought you’d like that.”

“Hold on,” he said. “I should hit the bathroom first.”

“Make it quick. I’m hungry.”

In the bathroom, he took a moment to refocus, then texted the new plan to Julien. Before he left, he looked at himself in the mirror.

“She’s Quinn’s sister,” he said. “Don’t screw this up.”

The only problem was, he wasn’t sure if the Nate who was looking back at him was listening.

They spent over an hour and a half at a cafe a few blocks away. Then followed that up by browsing through a couple of bookstores in the neighborhood, looking for a book Liz wanted for her dissertation. It wasn’t until they visited their fourth bookstore that they found it.

“Thanks for letting me take care of this,” she said as they exited the store. “You mind if we drop it off at my place before we head out?”

“Are you kidding? I’d be furious.” He smiled and held up his hands. “You’re in charge today. I’m just happily along for the ride. I mean, I’m in Paris for God’s sake.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m in charge?”

“Within reason.”

“Hmmm.”

A light rain began to fall. They raced down the sidewalk and ducked under the cover of the entryway. While she unlocked the door, Nate glanced back just in time to see Julien slip under the awning of the cafe. He was talking tensely into his phone.

“After you,” Liz said, holding the door open.

They ducked inside, then rode the elevator up to Liz’s floor.

“Maybe we should just stay in,” Nate said once they were back in the apartment.

She gave him an odd look. “You’re not going to let a little rain stop you, are you?”

“It’s not just rain. It’s cold rain.”

“We won’t be outside that much. Besides, it’s a perfect day for the museum.”

While Liz was in her room, Nate went into the bathroom, once again using the time to text Julien.

Everything ok?