Part 27 (1/2)
”Good. That'll make things easier. We need to take a look at the room where the prisoner was held. Can you please take us there?”
”Um, sure. Yes. This way.”
Quinn turned to Orlando and Daeng. ”Travers, you're with me. Song, wait out here. Have a look around.”
Both Orlando and Daeng took a step toward Quinn, stopped, and looked at each other as if saying, ”I thought I was Travers.”
Quinn looked directly at Orlando. ”Travers, let's go.”
She gave Daeng a quick, smug smile as she joined Quinn.
As soon as they pa.s.sed inside, Diaz flicked on a flashlight and led them down a long, dim corridor. Given the appearance of the building from the outside, the interior was surprisingly clean and in order. Doors lined both sides of the hallway. All were closed so there was no telling what was in the rooms.
After turning down another corridor, Diaz finally stopped.
”This is it,” he said.
He pulled out a ring of keys, selected the proper one, unlocked, and opened the door. The room inside was dark. Diaz moved enough out of the way so that Quinn and Orlando could get a look while he s.h.i.+ned his light through the s.p.a.ce.
It was small and had no windows or vents, just a drain in the corner and a threadbare cot along the side. The room was a temporary holding cell, plain and simple.
”You put the prisoner in here yourself?” Quinn asked.
”I only unlocked the door. Captain Moreno and his men put him inside.”
”May I use your light, please?” Quinn said, holding out his hand.
Diaz reluctantly handed over his flashlight.
Quinn played the beam through the room, carefully examining the s.p.a.ce in case Nate had been able to leave some kind of message. He spotted nothing.
When he was done, he stepped back and handed the light back to the guard. ”How long was he held in here?”
”An hour, maybe two,” Diaz said. ”I don't remember exactly. I can check the log if you want.”
”Yes, please.”
Diaz led them back in the direction they'd come. Now that Quinn had seen the cell Nate had been in, he was sure most of the other doors along the corridor would open onto similar rooms. Low profile, out of the way, and with its own airstrip, it was the perfect transfer point for the problematic and unwanted.
Diaz's office was a room near the building's exit and about twice as large as Nate's cell. Crammed inside were a desk, a small couch, and a television that was currently playing a security feed from outside the building, the same feed on which the guard had no doubt spotted Quinn and the others.
Diaz stepped behind the desk and typed into his computer. ”The prisoner arrived at 12:48 p.m., and left again at 3:06. So, over two hours.”
Without looking at her, Quinn knew Orlando had taken special note of the departure time. It was a more exact number than the estimate Moreno had given them.
”And how was the prisoner when he left?” Quinn asked.
”Fine, I guess. Why? Has there been a problem?”
”What do you mean, you guess? Either he was or he wasn't.”
”I don't know,” Diaz said, fl.u.s.tered. ”I couldn't see his face with that black bag over his head.”
Quinn leaned back. Moreno had not mentioned that little detail. ”Of course. Right.”
Though in truth it changed nothing, the thought of Nate in a bag angered Quinn even more.
”The pickup team Moreno handed the prisoner off to-did you speak with them?” Orlando asked.
”No. Just like I said, I opened doors and stayed out of the way. That's my job.”
”Good,” Quinn said. ”That's exactly what I wanted to hear. We'll note that in our report.”
Worry once more crossed the guard's face. ”Report?”
”Routine,” Quinn said with a smile.
Diaz stood up as if he planned to escort them back to their car.
”No need,” Quinn said. ”We want to take a look outside, then we'll be on our way.”
”But the gate's locked.”
”We got in. We'll get out.”
Outside, they found Daeng waiting near the door.
”Find anything?” Quinn asked.
”Some rubber marks on the runway over there,” Daeng said, looking toward a spot just beyond the building. ”No more than a week old.”
”We're done out here, right?” Orlando said. ”If I'm going to find where that plane went, I need a good Wi-Fi signal.”
Quinn nodded. ”Yeah. I don't want-”
”Hold on,” Daeng said.
”What?” Quinn asked.
”We seem to have picked up some interest.”
Quinn tensed.
”A car drove by a few times while you were inside,” Daeng said.
Frowning, Quinn said, ”It was a dark blue Ford sedan, wasn't it?”