Unless…
The experts who designed the prison had not counted on one of the cells being filled with medical equipment. Reacher did a mental inventory of what he had seen in W1. He figured there might just be a chance, if his high school physics had stood the test of time. He spun Begovic around and told him to follow.
Reacher grabbed the roll of tissue off the weird one-piece, unbreakable stainless-steel toilet/basin/mirror assembly in the corner of the cell. He handed it to Begovic and said, “I need you to take all the paper off this. I want just the cardboard tube from the inside. OK?”
Begovic said, “Sure.” He grabbed the roll, poked one index finger up into the center, and started to pull.
Reacher said, “Stay here a minute. I’ll be back.” He hurried into cell W3, took the hammer out of the pillowcase, stretched up, and used the claw to rip the metal conduit carrying the lighting circuit off the ceiling. He tore the wiring free and repeated the process in W5 and W7. He returned to W1 and found Begovic had the cardboard tube ready. Reacher took the knife from the pillowcase and cut a slit into the insulation at the end of the first length of wire he’d harvested. He gripped the plastic between one thumb and finger, and the copper between the other thumb and finger. He pulled them in opposite directions and the shiny copper emerged like a snake shedding its skin. He repeated the process with the other lengths of wire and ended up with three six-foot strands, which he joined together into one long piece by twisting the joints between his teeth.
“OK,” Reacher said. “Hold out the tube. Grip it tight. Don’t let it spin.”
Reacher wound the copper around the cardboard again and again, up and down, back and forth, until he had a tight, thick coil with a six-inch tail at each end. He took the defibrillator off the wall. He bound one copper tail to each paddle with duct tape. Led the way out into the corridor and up to the door. Flipped the switch on the defibrillator that read charge. Waited for the light to turn from red to green. Turned the dial to the maximum discharge setting. Gripped the insulated handles that were attached to the paddles. Held the coil up to the doorframe on the side opposite the hinges, roughly halfway up. Then he turned to Begovic and said, “OK. When you’re ready, hit the shock button.”
Begovic said, “Ready.” He stretched out a bony finger and jabbed the red disc.
There was a flash like a bolt of lightning. A buzz like a fuse box overloading. A sudden whiff of burning cardboard and scorched paint. And a soft thud when the coil hit the floor after the copper tails melted away.
Reacher said, “OK. Let’s hope we just fried ourselves a magnet.” He went to W1 and returned a moment later carrying the 12V battery from the body-sized box. “One way to find out.” There was a metal conduit on the wall leading away from the frame on the hinge side of the door. Reacher used the claw of the hammer to tear it free. He pulled out about three feet of cable, doubled it over the knife blade, and sliced through. He trimmed back the insulation. Separated the two strands until the ends of the wire were far enough apart to reach the battery’s poles. He made contact with the positive. Then the negative. Then he listened. He imagined he could hear the steel rod obeying the electromotive force and sliding slowly along its tube inside the door. Pulling clear of the frame. He held the wires in place for twenty seconds. Thirty. Then he dropped them and stood up.
He grabbed the pillowcase and turned to Begovic. “That’s it. It worked. Or it didn’t.”
It had worked. Reacher pushed the door. It swung back. And he came face-to-face with three men. Two guards with AR-15 rifles. And a pasty-faced guy in a suit.
Chapter 45
Reacher grabbed the stock of the nearer guard’s gun and pushed it up toward the ceiling. He kicked the second guard in the balls. Butted the nearer guard in the face. And kicked the second guard in the head before he could crawl away.
Begovic ran to the door that led to the exit corridor. It was locked.
The guy in the suit didn’t move. He said, “You must be Reacher. Hell of an entrance.”
Reacher collected the rifles and slung them over his shoulder. “Who are you?”
The guy didn’t reply.
Begovic said, “His name’s Riverdale. The warden. He’s a complete asshole.”
Reacher said, “Riverdale? OK. Time to redeem yourself. These doors need to open.”
Riverdale stayed silent for a moment. Then he said, “No problem. I can do that. You just need to do one thing for me first.”
Reacher said nothing.