the unit’s main space. Her entrance, however, opened into a five-foot-long, three-foot-wide steel box. At the other end was another door that would only open when either Orlando or Quinn placed their right palm on the biometric scanner beside it. If anyone else tried, the metal box would seal shut and Orlando would receive notification of an intruder.
She pressed her hand against the glass, waited for the click, and entered. The unit was Quinn’s and her private warehouse. Secured cabinets full of weapons and ammunition and explosive devices lined the back wall. Through the center of the room ran three rows of heavy-duty shelves, holding a wide variety of other items that might be needed, such as communication gear, bugging equipment, and tracking devices. Many of the items had been created for specific one-time uses, but had been retained in case similar needs arose in the future.
Along the entire left side of the room was a workbench with drawers built underneath, holding a myriad of parts both mechanical and electrical. A pegboard covered with several hundred different kinds of tools hung on the wall above the bench.
She unlocked one of the back cabinets, removed several customized bags and a large plastic crate, and set them on the workbench.
She had no idea how long she would be away, or what she and the team might need, but given Helen’s disappearance, she knew the smart move was to prepare for the worst.
She started with the weapons, selecting handguns based on the preferences of Quinn, Nate, Daeng, and herself, and loaded them into the bag designed to carry them. She added an ample number of suppressors and four night scopes. In a second bag, she packed enough ammo to hold off a small army.
Next up was explosives. As tempted as she was to bring along some of the big stuff, she stuck only to small devices that could be used to blow open locks and windows. That finished off the soft-sided bags, and she moved all three over to the door.
Into the plastic crate went the electronics. She ended up going a little overboard and had to get a second box, but she’d rather have extras than end up cursing herself for what she didn’t bring.
Leaving the bags and the crates in the unit, she returned to the RV and borrowed the keys from Mr. Vo. The camper had plenty of storage cabinets accessible from the outside, but only the two at the back could also be reached from inside the vehicle, via hatches under the dining-area bench seats.
The Vos had stored a pair of folding chairs, a portable awning, and some blankets and pillows in Orlando’s desired spaces. She removed them and began the back and forth trips to bring all her things out.
One by one, she slid them into the compartments, pushing them as far back as possible. When that was done, she measured the height and width of the space, and retrieved the appropriately sized metal dividers from the unit. They were a near perfect fit, making the storage areas look smaller than they actually were and completely hiding her equipment from view. She repacked the Vos’ items in front of the dividers, and then made sure the shop was secured before climbing back into the RV.
Total elapsed time: twenty-three minutes.
“Breakfast,” Mrs. Vo said as Orlando closed the RV door. She was holding a plate with a thick omelet and a sliced banana.
“I don’t know if I can eat all that,” Orlando said.
“Not for you, for baby. You eat.”
“Okay, okay. But after we get going.”
Mrs. Vo frowned but held on to the plate.
Orlando looked past her to where Mr. Vo was sitting with Garrett. “Mr. Vo, do you need a little more time?”
The man stood. “No, no. Wait only for you. Where you want to go?”
Orlando had given that considerable thought as she’d loaded up the RV. Quinn might not need her help, but she wanted to be close enough to provide it if it turned out he did.
“North,” she said.
LOCATION UNKNOWN
H ELEN WOKE TO the smell of sweat and
She pressed her hand against the glass, waited for the click, and entered. The unit was Quinn’s and her private warehouse. Secured cabinets full of weapons and ammunition and explosive devices lined the back wall. Through the center of the room ran three rows of heavy-duty shelves, holding a wide variety of other items that might be needed, such as communication gear, bugging equipment, and tracking devices. Many of the items had been created for specific one-time uses, but had been retained in case similar needs arose in the future.
Along the entire left side of the room was a workbench with drawers built underneath, holding a myriad of parts both mechanical and electrical. A pegboard covered with several hundred different kinds of tools hung on the wall above the bench.
She unlocked one of the back cabinets, removed several customized bags and a large plastic crate, and set them on the workbench.
She had no idea how long she would be away, or what she and the team might need, but given Helen’s disappearance, she knew the smart move was to prepare for the worst.
She started with the weapons, selecting handguns based on the preferences of Quinn, Nate, Daeng, and herself, and loaded them into the bag designed to carry them. She added an ample number of suppressors and four night scopes. In a second bag, she packed enough ammo to hold off a small army.
Next up was explosives. As tempted as she was to bring along some of the big stuff, she stuck only to small devices that could be used to blow open locks and windows. That finished off the soft-sided bags, and she moved all three over to the door.
Into the plastic crate went the electronics. She ended up going a little overboard and had to get a second box, but she’d rather have extras than end up cursing herself for what she didn’t bring.
Leaving the bags and the crates in the unit, she returned to the RV and borrowed the keys from Mr. Vo. The camper had plenty of storage cabinets accessible from the outside, but only the two at the back could also be reached from inside the vehicle, via hatches under the dining-area bench seats.
The Vos had stored a pair of folding chairs, a portable awning, and some blankets and pillows in Orlando’s desired spaces. She removed them and began the back and forth trips to bring all her things out.
One by one, she slid them into the compartments, pushing them as far back as possible. When that was done, she measured the height and width of the space, and retrieved the appropriately sized metal dividers from the unit. They were a near perfect fit, making the storage areas look smaller than they actually were and completely hiding her equipment from view. She repacked the Vos’ items in front of the dividers, and then made sure the shop was secured before climbing back into the RV.
Total elapsed time: twenty-three minutes.
“Breakfast,” Mrs. Vo said as Orlando closed the RV door. She was holding a plate with a thick omelet and a sliced banana.
“I don’t know if I can eat all that,” Orlando said.
“Not for you, for baby. You eat.”
“Okay, okay. But after we get going.”
Mrs. Vo frowned but held on to the plate.
Orlando looked past her to where Mr. Vo was sitting with Garrett. “Mr. Vo, do you need a little more time?”
The man stood. “No, no. Wait only for you. Where you want to go?”
Orlando had given that considerable thought as she’d loaded up the RV. Quinn might not need her help, but she wanted to be close enough to provide it if it turned out he did.
“North,” she said.
LOCATION UNKNOWN
H ELEN WOKE TO the smell of sweat and
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