I stopped for gas whenever the needle dropped below halfway. I kept an eye open for anyone who might take too much interest in me. No one did. And I called Fenton at random intervals. The same guy answered every time. And he followed the same routine when he brought the phone to her. His chair scraped back. He took five footsteps. He opened a door. He took eight footsteps. Then he unlocked Fenton’s door. I figured he had to be coming from the next room. The one at the end of the corridor. The only one I hadn’t seen the inside of. Yet.
I arrived at the hotel at 2105. It was the first in a line of four. It was identical to the others except for the sign announcing which chain it belonged to. The building was rectangular. It had two stories. Small windows. A flat roof. The office was at one end. A bunch of air-conditioning machines was clustered at the other, half-hidden behind a line of spindly bushes. There were parking spots all along one wall, with an overflow lot between the building and the next hotel. It was empty, so I took a space at the far end of the last row. I climbed out. Stretched. Made sure the truck was locked. And made my way back to reception.
A woman was sitting behind the counter. She didn’t notice me for a moment. She was too engrossed in a book she was reading. Her concentration didn’t break until the phone rang on the desk in front of her. It was a complicated-looking thing all covered with buttons and lights. She stretched out to pick up the receiver, then stopped when she realized I was standing there.
“They can call back.” She smiled at me. “Or leave a message. Sorry to keep you waiting. Can I help?”
“I have a reservation. Name of Reacher.”
The woman woke her computer and tapped on some keys. “Here we are. Already paid for. An online booking. Just the one night?”
I nodded.
“Could I see some ID, please?”
I handed her my passport.
She flicked through to the information page, then narrowed her eyes. “This is expired, sir.”
“Correct. No good for international travel. But still valid for identification.”
“I’m not sure…”
I pointed to her computer. “Go online if you don’t believe me. Check with the federal government.”
She paused with one hand hovering above the keyboard. She didn’t believe me. That was obvious. I guess she was weighing the consequences of proving me wrong. The paperwork involved with issuing a refund. Explaining to her bosses why she’d turned away a customer. The impact on occupancy statistics. “No need, Mr. Reacher. I’m sure you’re right.” She passed the passport back to me. “How many room keys will you be needing?”
“Just one.”
The woman opened a drawer and took out a piece of plastic the size of a credit card. She fed it into a machine on her desk and tapped some more computer keys. A little light turned from red to green. She retrieved the card and handed it to me. “Room 222. Would you like me to write that down for you?”
“No need.”
“OK, then. The breakfast bar’s in the lobby and it’s open from six until eight. Any questions, dial zero on your room phone. I hope you enjoy your stay with us, and visit again soon.”
The woman went back to her book. I went back to the truck. I sat on the rear fender, leaned my head against the tailgate, closed my eyes, and felt the cool evening breeze on my face. Ten minutes ticked past. Fifteen. Then I heard a vehicle approaching. More than one. I looked up and saw a line of silver sedans. Five of them. All identical. Chrysler 300s. The lead car swooped into the parking lot. The others followed, then fanned out and stopped in a row in front of me. The guy who was driving the nearest car climbed out. It was Wallwork. He hurried across, passed me a white plastic sack, then shook my hand.
“Reacher. Good to see you.” He nodded toward the truck. “The device. It’s in there?”
“As promised.”
“Excellent work.” Wallwork gave a thumbs-up to the guys in the car next to his. “Thank you. We’ll take it from here.”
I unlocked the door, took out the backpack, and handed the key to Wallwork. “I’ve left a suitcase in there. It’s Fenton’s. Look after it until tomorrow?”
“Sure.” Wallwork took me by the elbow and led me away from the other vehicles. “Listen.” He lowered his voice. “I think we trust each other, so I’m going to be totally honest with you. After we spoke I called my old supervisor. The one who’s at TEDAC now. He’s on his way out here. We’re going to secure the area, and he’s going to examine the device. In situ. I know I said we wouldn’t move it until tomorrow. But unless he’s certain there’s no risk to the public, I’m going to have to break that promise.”