* * *
—
Bruno Hix was sitting at his desk. He was staring at his computer screen. And his own face was staring back.
The image was magnified. Hix’s mouth was gaping open. His eyes were half-shut. He looked drunk. Or demented. Or worse, ugly. Hix stamped his foot. Getting two video streams to play side by side was harder than he’d expected. One at a time was fine. But both together he just couldn’t figure out. He had called the prison’s IT expert but the guy had already quit for the day. He was at home, preparing dinner for his cats. He was supposedly coming back but he was taking his sweet time. A person could crawl faster. Hix was not happy. He needed to have a word with Riverdale. It was time for some staff changes. And soon.
Hix’s office door opened. Slowly.
Hix turned and said, “Where the…”
He saw Brockman framed in the doorway.
“Oh,” Hix said. “It’s you. Is there news?”
Brockman nodded.
Hix said, “Good news?”
Brockman said, “Just news.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“Harold called. He got to the construction site. Our guys were not there.”
“They deserted their post? What happened? Were they threatened? Bribed?”
“They just disappeared. Brad’s Explorer was there, parked in exactly the same place Harold saw it earlier. But there was no sign of Brad or Wade.”
“So what happened?”
“No idea. Harold spoke to the driver of the pilot vehicle. He said there had been a weird incident. He said he was heading east, as usual, and he came across a truck blocking the road. He didn’t see the plate but it was the same model as the one Reacher stole. The same color.”
“Did he see Reacher?”
“It sounds like it. Here’s what Harold said happened. The pilot stopped, assuming the truck was trying to turn around for some reason. He figured it would get out of the way, sooner or later. But the other drivers got antsy. They surrounded the truck. Tried to push it. And got nowhere, naturally. It was just some crazy mass hysteria thing. They were still trying when a huge guy showed up from the opposite side.”
“Reacher?”
“Well, he chased these other drivers away. Ten of them. And he kicked another guy’s ass, apparently. Draw your own conclusion. Then he got in the truck and drove off.”
“What did Harold do?”
“He figured Brad and Wade had gotten knocked out and the guy was dumping them like he’d done with Pep and Tony at the truck stop. The roadblock was for cover. So Harold searched for them. He found nothing. But he’s still trying.”
“So we still don’t know where our guys are?”
“No.”
“And Reacher?”
“We don’t know where he is, either.”
“Well, obviously he got past the roadblock. He could be in town anytime. He could already be here. Call Harold. Tell him to come back. Right now.”
“What about Brad and Wade?”
“What about them? They had one job. They failed. We’re better off without them.”
* * *
—
Hannah had been using her phone to do some more research while Reacher was scoping out the prison. About food, this time. The next thing on their agenda.
She had found the place people said sold the best burgers in town. She suggested they head straight there, get some carryout, and take it to their hotel. That wasn’t an approach Reacher favored. He preferred to show up and see how a place looked for himself. He appreciated a good diner. And he was totally opposed to anything that smacked of running and hiding. Reacher was wired to move toward danger. To confront it. To defeat it, or die trying. It was baked into his DNA. But he could tell that Hannah was approaching her limit. She knew people were looking for them. The same group of people who had tried to kill her. It was reasonable for her to want to get off the street. To be out of sight as quickly as possible. It would have been cruel to force her to do otherwise, so Reacher didn’t argue.
The burger place was four blocks north of Main Street in a building that used to be a gas station. Its original pumps were still there, now repurposed as decorations with neon lights. The forecourt had been turned into a parking area. The tables were in the main building, behind large, curved windows and under an extravagant gull-wing roof.
The drive-through counter was where the old night-service window had been. Hannah pulled up next to it. She ordered, paid, and had a paper sack full of food in her hand inside three minutes. She had gotten one burger with a single patty, mushrooms, and truffle aioli for herself and two doubles with American cheese and nothing green for Reacher. She waited another minute for their two large coffees to come out then moved toward the exit. She entered the hotel’s address into the map on her phone and a robot voice told her to proceed to the route. Reacher didn’t find that advice helpful.