The Damaged (A Jonathan Quinn Novel Book 13) by Brett Battles

Author:Brett Battles [Battles, Brett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

SATURDAY

FIVE DAYS UNTIL OPERATION REDEEMER

When Durrie called him, Quinn had asked if they could meet in person and said he could come down to San Diego.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” Durrie said. “I can come up there, if it’s easier.”

“I’ve already booked a flight for early this evening. How about grabbing dinner?”

“Sure. That sounds good.”

“Is that hole-in-the-wall Italian place still in business?”

“Leonetti’s? It is.”

“Meet you there at eight?”

“I’ll be there.”

Quinn arrived at the restaurant fifteen minutes early, and was taken to the table he’d reserved near the back. It was the most private location, separated from the other customers by a wide aisle the servers used to go back and forth from the kitchen.

Durrie walked in at exactly eight p.m.

This was the first time Quinn had seen him in months, so his stomach clenched with trepidation of the man he feared Durrie had become. But that was the reason he’d wanted to have a face-to-face before the mission started. He didn’t want to go in blind, and had decided to see first who he would be dealing with.

He caught his mentor’s eye and waved him over. Putting on a smile, Quinn stood and held out his hand as Durrie approached.

“Hello, Johnny,” Durrie said as they shook.

“Right on time. You look good.”

“I look like shit and you know it.” Durrie chuckled and sat down.

As Quinn retook his seat, a waitress approached. “Something to drink?”

“Definitely,” Quinn said. He glanced back at the open menu on the table. “A Peroni, please.”

“Sounds good to me, too,” Durrie said.

The waitress smiled, said, “I’ll be right back,” and headed for the kitchen.

While waiting for their drinks, Quinn and Durrie perused their menus and covered all the small-talk bases.

How’s San Diego?

Can’t beat the weather. How’s L.A.?

L.A.’s L.A. And Orlando? How’s she doing?

Just fine. How’s dating life?

What dating life?

Conversations like this were not something either of them was particularly good at, but they managed to stretch it out until the waitress returned, avoiding what would have surely been an awkward silence.

“Have you decided on what you’d like to order?”

Quinn went for the gnocchi with pesto sauce, while Durrie opted for the penne arrabbiata.

“So,” Durrie said when they were alone again, “what’s the deal with the job?”

“Standard clean. Travel day, two days on site, travel back.”

“Cargo?” Durrie asked, meaning how many bodies they’d have to deal with.

“Five to ten.”

Durrie’s eyes widened. “Five to ten? And we only have a day to prep?”

“Disposal’s already worked out. We’ll just be delivering site to site.”

“I see. Well, I guess that’s better. Still a lot for just you and me to handle.”

“It won’t just be you and me. We’ll have a driver who can also act as a third pair of hands.”

“Oh, good. That’s…that’s good.” Durrie paused. “If, uh, you haven’t filled the position already, I met this guy I think you’d probably like working with. Angel Ortega. You know him?”

“I don’t. But I’ve already got someone lined up.”

“Figured you probably did. Who is it?”

“Trevor Hart.”

Durrie furrowed his brow. “Was

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