Fuse of Armageddon
“An American woman in her midforties with a calm face and a plain dress.
“I’m required to ask you for a Coke—” the woman held up a cell phone—“in exchange for this.”
Quinn invited her in and pointed to a crate as a seat. He slid the door shut and turned to her. “You’re one of the hostages,” he said, relieved at the thought. This was his first real indication that Safady truly wanted negotiations.
“In a sense, yes. I run the orphanage.”
“Esther Weber,” Quinn said.
She blinked.
“I learned as much ...as I could from the Mossad about the orphanage. I’m Mulvaney Quinn.” He offered her a cold bottle.
Esther accepted it but did not open it. She shifted on the crate and looked around the interior. “It’s true, isn’t it? You have no military backup here. Not even weapons.”
“I’ve got my laptop to keep me connected. Mainly, though, I rely on my charm and wit.”
“So you’re suicidal,” she said. Then she smiled.
“I’m working on a simple premise here.MoreLess
“I’m required to ask you for a Coke—” the woman held up a cell phone—“in exchange for this.”
Quinn invited her in and pointed to a crate as a seat. He slid the door shut and turned to her. “You’re one of the hostages,” he said, relieved at the thought. This was his first real indication that Safady truly wanted negotiations.
“In a sense, yes. I run the orphanage.”
“Esther Weber,” Quinn said.
She blinked.
“I learned as much ...as I could from the Mossad about the orphanage. I’m Mulvaney Quinn.” He offered her a cold bottle.
Esther accepted it but did not open it. She shifted on the crate and looked around the interior. “It’s true, isn’t it? You have no military backup here. Not even weapons.”
“I’ve got my laptop to keep me connected. Mainly, though, I rely on my charm and wit.”
“So you’re suicidal,” she said. Then she smiled.
“I’m working on a simple premise here.MoreLess
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