{"product_id":"shadow-of-betrayal-isbn-9780440243724","title":"Shadow of Betrayal","description":"Three jobs, no questions. That’s the deal Jonathan Quinn—freelance operative and professional “cleaner”—has struck with his client at the Office. But his first assignment in rural Ireland unexpectedly results in four dead bodies to dispose of—and leads him to an astounding mystery about to spin wildly out of control.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow Quinn, along with his colleague and girlfriend, the lethal Orlando, has a new mission: find and protect a U.N. aide worker who has suddenly disappeared from her assignment in war-torn Africa. If it were only that easy. Soon Quinn and Orlando will unearth a horrifying plot that is about to reach stage critical for a gathering of world leaders—and an act of terror more cunning, and more insidious, than anyone can foresee.“The best word I can use to describe his writing is addictive.” —James Rollins\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“Brett Battles has established himself as one of today’s best thriller writers, right up there with Lee Child, Barry Eisler, and Thomas Perry.”—\u003ci\u003eDeadly Pleasures\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A sinister plot so downright clever it’s a wonder somebody hasn’t tried something similar in real life. Start \u003cb\u003eShadow of Betrayal\u003c\/b\u003e early in the day, or be prepared for a later-than-usual bedtime.”—\u003ci\u003eBookPage\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003e“The action is heart-pounding, gripping and always engaging.”—\u003ci\u003eTucson Citizen\u003c\/i\u003eBrett Battles lives in Los Angeles and is the author of two acclaimed novels in the Jonathan Quinn series: \u003cb\u003eThe Cleaner\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e,\u003c\/i\u003e which was nominated for a Barry Award for Best Thriller and a Shamus Award for Best First Novel, and \u003cb\u003eThe Deceived\u003c\/b\u003e. He is at work on the fourth book in the series.\u003ci\u003eChapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e MAY 25\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e THE MEETING LOCATION HAD BEEN CHOSEN FOR ITS isolation, an  abandoned Catholic church on the east side of a little-used road fifty kilometers  northwest of Cork, Ireland, near the border between County Tipperary and County Cork.  The structure that remained was all but invisible from the road. One of those places  only a local would know about, then forget over time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As a bonus, no one lived within  a kilometer and a half of the ruins, making it a natural choice for an exchange.  In the two days Jonathan Quinn had been scouting the location, no more than a dozen  cars a day had driven past, and not a single one had even slowed, let alone stopped.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The roof of the church had long since disappeared, leaving only the gray, pitted  stone walls of the chapel. Encouraged by the wet Irish climate, vegetation had grown  up around the building, both surrounding it and filling the inside. It was as if  a congregation of flora was waiting in the open-air sanctuary for a priest who had  yet to arrive. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nearby, an untended cemetery provided the only reminder that people  had once worshipped here. Quinn didn't know how long the compound had been abandoned,  but the most recent grave marker he'd located had been for someone named Maureen  Owens, year of death 1889. So it wasn't hard to imagine that it had been at least  a century since any parishioners had gathered between the chapel walls.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn did  a last walk-through just after noon, careful to step only on broken stones or patches  of grass to avoid leaving any trace of his presence. He double-checked to make sure  all the cameras and microphones were well hidden and working. When he was satisfied,  he returned on foot to the van parked a half kilometer away.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The meeting was scheduled  for nine that evening. According to the agreed-upon terms, the informant was to arrive  from the south, while the man from Quinn's client—an organization known as the Office—was  to come in from the north. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They were each instructed to park a quarter kilometer  from the location and walk the rest of the way in. They were to meet inside the church,  with each participant allowed to bring one associate. Once they had all arrived,  the informant would give the Office's agent certain information in exchange for what  Quinn assumed was a generous cash payment. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The details of the exchange, what the  information was and what the informant was earning for his efforts, were none of  Quinn's business. He was a cleaner. His job was to watch and observe, and—only if  necessary—clean up any mess that might occur. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e As Quinn reached the back of the  van, the right side door swung open. Quinn's apprentice Nate was hunched inside,  a Glock 19 pistol in his right hand. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Ground check?\" Nate asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We're all set,\"  Quinn replied.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nate relaxed. While he had no doubt been watching Quinn's approach—first  on the cameras stationed around the church, then on those surrounding the van—and  had seen his boss return alone, there was always the possibility someone had gotten  to Quinn in one of the dead areas, and was waiting just beyond the camera's view.  But Quinn had answered Nate's question with the prearranged all-clear signal. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The  apprentice moved aside and let Quinn enter, then leaned out and pulled the door shut.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The van had been transformed into a mobile observation post. But unlike those fancy  ones in the movies, here little attention had been paid to the human component. A  half-dozen small flat-screen monitors were mounted on the right wall. Five were receiving  signals from the ten cameras back at the church, each monitor assigned to two cameras,  and automatically toggling back and forth every five seconds. The sixth monitor was  digitally divided into four smaller screens displaying different views of the surveillance  van and the surrounding area. Below the monitors, twenty-eight digital recorders—each  no larger than a paperback book—were hung in portable racks. Two recorders per feed,  in case one crapped out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And as if that wasn't enough, there was a satellite link  sending a real-time signal back to the Office's headquarters in Washington, D.C.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e State-of-the-art equipment all. It was the two plastic chairs and the banged-up  portable ice chest that seemed out of place. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You check in with Peter?\" Quinn asked.  Peter was the head of the Office, and the man who had hired them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Fifteen minutes  ago,\" Nate said as he settled into the chair nearest the back of the van. \"We did  another connection test. Signal strength is steady. I flipped it to black, so they're  not getting anything at the moment.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Any more interference from the cameras?\" Quinn  said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nate shook his head. \"Everything seems fine now. I think we're ready.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Keep  an eye on them,\" Quinn said, nodding toward the monitors. \"If anything acts up again,  let me know.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You going somewhere?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn pushed the empty plastic chair toward  the equipment rack, then stretched out on the floor. \"As far away from here as I  can,\" he said as he closed his eyes. \"Wake me in two hours if there aren't any more  problems.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yeah, sure,\" Nate said. \"I'll just . . . stay here.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Stay alert.\"  Quinn tapped the cooler with his foot. \"Have a Red Bull, if you need one.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nate  said something under his breath.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn opened one eye. \"What?\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Nothing.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn  stared for a moment longer, then closed the eye. \"I could have left you in Los Angeles,  you know.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He could sense Nate wanting to say something more, but his apprentice  remained silent. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e At five minutes to nine, the Office's agent, a veteran operative  named David Otero, arrived. With him was William Ownby, the allotted second man.  Quinn and Nate watched as the two agents cautiously approached the church, then entered  the abandoned sanctuary. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Peter had told Quinn that Otero and Ownby would have no  knowledge of Quinn's presence. That wasn't unusual. Quinn and Nate weren't there  as backup. They were there for an entirely different reason. One Otero and Ownby  wouldn't have wanted to consider.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nate glanced at his watch. \"It's three minutes  after nine. Our other guest is running behind.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn nodded, but said nothing.  The second party had been told the meet would take place somewhere in the south of  Ireland, but had only been given the exact location three hours earlier. And the  church wasn't the easiest place in the world to find.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Hold on,\" Nate said. \"Lights.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn used a handheld joystick to pan a camera that was covering the road to the  south a little to the right, centering a pair of distant headlights moving toward  the church. For a moment, they disappeared as the road dipped between two hills.  Quinn and Nate had measured the distance that morning. The vehicle was just under  a kilometer away. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A moment later, the car reappeared, and less than thirty seconds  later it began to slow. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Approaching the turnout,\" Nate said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e On the screen, the  car slowed to almost a crawl, then pulled off into the wide spot in the road, and  its lights were turned off.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn leaned forward and pushed a button on a rectangular  metal box mounted in the rack. Next to the button was a speaker, and just above that  a microphone was mounted on a five-inch gooseneck extender. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Peter, you getting  this?\" Quinn asked, then let go of the button.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes. That's got to be them.\" Though  Peter's voice came through the speaker, the quality was so good it sounded like he  was in the van with them. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn glanced back at one of the monitors covering the  inside of the church. Otero had found a large block of stone to sit on, while Ownby  had taken up a less visible position in a nook near the north entrance. If either  man was getting impatient, they didn't show it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Four minutes later, one of the microphones  picked up the sound of footsteps approaching the church.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Everything recording?\"  Quinn asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nate glanced at a small LCD monitor mounted on a swivel arm next to  the hard drives. He pressed one of the buttons on the touch-screen menu. The display  changed to a set of green lights. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"All drives recording,\" he said, then glanced  over his shoulder toward the communication equipment. \"Satellite link steady and  strong.\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn pushed the button that connected him with the Office. \"Approaching  the church now.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Good,\" Peter said. \"Let's get this over with.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otero must have  also heard the footsteps. He stood up, and put a cautious hand on the bulge in his  jacket pocket before looking back at Ownby and pointing in the direction of the approaching  sound. Ownby reached under his jacket and pulled out a gun, a Beretta 9mm. From his  pocket he pulled out a long cylinder, a suppressor, and attached it to the end of  the barrel. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The footsteps stopped just beyond the walls of the church. Then silence  for almost a minute.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I don't see them,\" Nate said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"They're there,\" Quinn said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I know. But I don't see them.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There were a series of numbered buttons on the  base of the joystick Quinn was holding. He punched number 8 and began panning a camera  covering the outside of the church's south end. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"There,\" Nate said, pointing at  the monitor for camera eight.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn could see them now. There were two of them,  crouched low and half-hidden by the thick brush. As Quinn and Nate watched, one of  the men sprinted forward, stopping only when he reached the outside of the church  wall. He then moved down the wall until he came to what had once been a doorway,  and peered inside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Are we going to play games, or are we going to meet?\" It was  Otero. He was still standing in the middle of the church, not concealing his presence.  When there was no response, he said, \"Two minutes and we're leaving.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The man who  had been looking into the church from the doorway glanced back at his partner and  waved for him to come over.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Quinn,\" Nate said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I thought they were only  allowed one companion.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn shot Nate a glance, then looked at a monitor Nate  was pointing at. It was the one covering the north approach to the church, the way  Otero and Ownby had come. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I don't see anything,\" Quinn said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"In the tree,\" Nate  said. He leaned forward and touched the screen.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e For half a second, Quinn still didn't  see anything, then a slight movement revealed the form of a man lying prone on one  of the branches, facing toward the church. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e A quick glance at a monitor that gave  a broader view of that side of the church confirmed Quinn's suspicion that the man  was high enough to see through the missing roof into the abandoned structure.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn  pushed the mic button again. \"Peter, we have a problem.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Check the feed  to camera six. In the tree, near the top of the image.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There was a pause.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Do  you see him?\" Quinn asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yes.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Is he one of yours?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I played by the rules.  Only two,\" Peter said. \"He must be one of theirs.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn wasn't convinced of that,  but there was no time to argue the point. On another monitor the two newcomers stepped  through the doorway, entered the church, and walked a couple paces before stopping.  They looked nervous, like this was the first time they had ever done anything like  this. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You need to abort right now,\" Quinn said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We need that information,\" Peter  said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Peter,\" Quinn said, \"if you don't abort, you might not get anything.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At  the church Otero said, \"You guys are going to have to come a little closer.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The  taller of the two men shook his head. \"We are fine here. I think you have something  to show us.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Otero smiled, then tossed a coin in the air so that it landed a foot  in front of his counterparts. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Your turn,\" Otero said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The tall man tossed his  own coin toward Otero. This was the prearranged recognition signal. Otero had been  carrying a fifty-yen Japanese coin, and the informant a 1998 Canadian half-dollar.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Peter!\" Quinn said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"The meet's already started,\" Peter said. \"They won't answer  their phones until they're back in their car.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"They might not even make it back  to their car,\" Quinn said, then let go of the button.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We can start the van,\" Nate  suggested. \"That should throw everyone into a panic. We could even fire off a shot.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e It was an excellent idea, Quinn thought. He relayed it to Peter.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e There was a pause,  then Peter said, \"Do it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn pulled his SIG Sauer P226 out of the holster under  his left arm as Nate moved toward the back door to open it. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Several rapid flashes  from one of the monitors caught Quinn's eye. It was the one showing the close-up  of the man in the tree. He glanced at the view of the church. Otero, Ownby, and the  man who had been talking for the other party were all on the ground and not moving.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The final man had just exited the church and was making a run for it. Then there  was another flash. The man jerked to the left, his momentum dropping him into a bush  at the side of the trail. Like the others, he didn't get up. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Stop,\" Quinn said  to Nate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The door was already half opened. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Close it. Quietly.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nate shut the  door as Quinn sat back down. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn pushed the button. \"Your op is blown.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I can  fucking see that,\" Peter said. \"Goddammit! You need to keep whoever that is from  getting to the bodies. One of those guys is carrying something we need.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Don't  know if you noticed,\" Quinn said, \"but your men are probably dead. That guy in the  tree's got a silenced rifle, and I'm not really interested in walking into his range.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Do what you were going to do before! Scare him off. He's not going to want to get  caught.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn took a deep breath, then nodded at Nate to open the door again. He  checked monitor six. The assassin was holding his position, waiting to see if anyone  else was going to show up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn pulled one of the remote communication sets from  a bag near the recorders. He slipped the receiver over his ear, then climbed out  of the van. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Talk me in,\" he said to Nate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You're going to try to take him out?\"  Nate asked, surprised.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn shook his head. \"I'm just going to convince him to  go someplace else.\" \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You want your suppressor?\" Nate asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn paused for a  second. If things went as planned, he'd need the noise of the shot to scare the guy  off. But if things got off track?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Toss it to me,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Nate disappeared for  a second, then stepped back into the doorway and threw a dark cylinder to Quinn.  \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Quinn stuffed it in the front pocket of his jacket as best he could. Once it was  secure, he nodded back at the van. \"Talk me in. You're my eyes, so try not to get  me killed.\"Barry Award-winning author of The Deceived","brand":"Dell","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304157597925,"sku":"NP9780440243724","price":8.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780440243724.jpg?v=1767736420","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/shadow-of-betrayal-isbn-9780440243724","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}