The door flew open. It banged against the internal wall and bounced back. I turned and nipped through the gap before it closed. Inside, I saw Fenton’s bed was made. The cushions had been straightened on the couch. And her suitcase was again sitting on the floor next to the door.
I crossed to the window and closed the curtains. I took the chair from the desk and used it to wedge the door. It wouldn’t withstand a serious attempt to get in but should at least stop the door swinging open in the breeze. I carried her case to the bed. Then I picked up the room phone and dialed a number from memory.
My call was answered after two rings. The guy at the other end was on a cell. His voice was echoey and disembodied but I could make out his words well enough.
“Wallwork,” he said. “Who’s this?”
Jefferson Wallwork was a special agent with the FBI. Our paths had crossed a little while ago. I helped him with a case. Things had worked out, from his point of view. He said he owed me. He said I should call if I was ever in a bind. I figured this counted.
I said, “This is Reacher.”
The line went silent for a moment.
“Is this a social call, Major? Only I’m kind of busy.”
“It’s not Major anymore. Just Reacher. I’ve told you before. And no. This is not social. I need some information.”
“There’s this thing now. It’s called the Internet.”
“I need specialized information. A woman’s life is on the line.”
“Call 911.”
“She’s a veteran. She also worked for you guys. She got her foot blown off for her trouble.”
I heard Wallwork sigh.
“What do you need to know?”
“She worked at a place called TEDAC. The Terrorist Explosive Device Analytical Center. Do you know it?”
“I know of it.”
“She got wind of a plot to distribute bombs, here in the United States. There’s the potential for a lot of people to get killed. The guy behind it is named Dendoncker. Waad Ahmed Dendoncker.”
“What kind of bombs?”
“I don’t know. Ones that explode.”
“How many?”
“Don’t know. Too many.”
“Shit. OK. I’ll get the right people on it.”
“That’s not all. The woman’s missing. I believe Dendoncker’s holding her. I believe he’s planning to kill her. So I need all the addresses associated with him, and his business. It’s called Pie in the Sky, Inc. You’ll need to dig deep. He owns it through a whole bunch of shell companies. One’s probably called Moon Shadow Associates.”
“This woman. What’s her name?”
“Michaela Fenton.”
“Last known whereabouts?”
“Los Gemelos, Arizona. It’s a small town, right on the border.”
“She’s out there undercover? From TEDAC? That’s not SOP. The nearest field office should be handling it. What’s going on? Where’s her partner?”
“She doesn’t have a partner. She left the Bureau. This is more of a personal initiative.”
Wallwork was silent for a moment. “I don’t like the sound of that. The last former agent I know who went down the personal initiative route is now in federal prison. His ex-partner tried to help. It got her killed.”
I said nothing.
“All right. I’ll try. But no promises. TEDAC’s not the kind of place you mess around with. It’s locked down tighter than a bullfrog’s ass. They deal with some seriously sensitive shit. Ask the wrong person the wrong thing, it’s not just the end of your career. You don’t just get fired. You can wind up in jail.”
“I get that. Don’t do anything to jam yourself up. Here’s another angle you could try. I suspect Dendoncker is using his business as a front for smuggling. I don’t know what, or who for.”
“OK. That might help. I have a buddy in the DEA. Another at ATF. I’ll tap them up. When do you need this by?”
“Yesterday.”
“Can I get you on this number?”
“You should be able to. For a while, at least.”
I hung up the phone, made sure the ringer was on, and turned to the bed. I unzipped Fenton’s case and flipped it open. Everything was neatly folded and rolled, just like before. A hint of her perfume floated up. I felt even more intrusive than I had two nights ago. I pulled her stuff out. There was the same combination of clothes and toiletries and props for changing her appearance. I found nothing new. No notes. No files. No “if you’re reading this…” letters.