The Sentinel (Jack Reacher)

FIVE

Speranski was back in his living room, reading his newspaper, when the secure phone rang again.

‘Good news,’ the voice at the other end of the line said. ‘The Center agreed. The team was sent back out. And right away they re-established contact.’

‘Excellent,’ Speranski said. ‘Where?’

‘Going into a diner. Opposite Rutherford’s building.’

‘Can they take him there? What’s the plan?’

‘Not inside. They’re going to wait. Take them when they come out.’

‘Them?’

‘Correct. Rutherford and the drifter.’

Speranski was silent for a moment. Had his contact in the police department lied to him? Or failed to carry out an adequate interview?

‘They showed up together,’ the voice said. ‘From the direction of the courthouse. Looked like they were getting to know one another, according to the report. Probably got released at the same time and started talking.’

That sounded like an assumption, Speranski thought. He didn’t like assumptions. Maybe it was time to test his contact’s loyalty. Or his competence. Or both. Yes. He should definitely do that. But in due course. The current situation had to be resolved first. If it wasn’t, nothing else would matter anyway.

‘So they’ll take them on the street?’ Speranski said.

‘In an alley,’ the voice said. ‘There’s one right next to the diner, I’m told. You probably know it. They’ll lure them in. Block the entrance with the Suburban to avoid any witnesses. And hit them with the tasers.’

Speranski did know the alley. He pictured the scene. It was suitable, he decided. The plan was simple, but sometimes simple is best. And if they got the drifter as well as Rutherford, that could be advantageous. Because he couldn’t touch Rutherford. He couldn’t afford to leave any marks. Nothing that might raise suspicion at an autopsy. He had to rely on scaring him. But he could do whatever he wanted to the drifter. Which would no doubt help to loosen Rutherford’s tongue.

And it would be fun.

He would have to summon his housekeeper. Tell her to prepare the generator room. To clean the instruments, at least. The walls and floor could probably wait.

Reacher looked at the man facing him with the bulging jacket and said nothing.

‘Into the alley.’ The guy pointed with his free hand. ‘Move. Backward. Now. I’ll tell you when to turn.’

‘What’s the rush?’ Reacher said. ‘This is a serious decision. I’m going to need more information. Let’s start with you explaining why I’d want to go into the alley.’

‘Because I’m telling you to.’

Reacher shook his head. ‘See, that is not a compelling reason. In fact, it’s the opposite. A moment ago, before you opened your mouth, there was a possibility I’d wind up in there. Based purely on random chance. It wouldn’t have been very likely. If a top mathematician happened to be passing by she could have calculated the probability, tiny though it might have been. Now, on the other hand, even if you invented a whole new branch of mathematics you wouldn’t be able to come up with a number small enough.’

The man fidgeted from foot to foot. ‘OK. Do the math on this. Go into the alley, right now, or I’ll shoot you.’

‘Again, not compelling. If you want me in the alley you must have a reason which doesn’t involve shooting me on the street or you would have done that already. And on top of that, in order to shoot me you’d need to have a gun.’

‘I have a gun.’ The guy flapped his jacket. ‘I’m pointing it right at you.’

‘That’s a gun in your pocket? Oh. OK. I didn’t realize. What kind is it?’

The guy’s mouth opened but no words came out.

‘Pistol or revolver?’

The guy didn’t answer.

‘Thirty-eight or forty-five?’

The guy stayed silent.

‘Take it out. Show it to me. You might learn something.’

The guy didn’t move.

‘You don’t have a gun. It’s OK. You can admit it. But you do realize that the game’s over? Because here’s your real problem. You already know you can’t make me do anything on your own. That’s why you pretended to be armed. Only you’re not armed. So here’s my decision. I’m going to decline your invitation. And give you a choice. Tell me who sent you and why they want me in the alley, and I’ll let you walk away. Otherwise, do you have a phone?’

The guy didn’t answer.

‘If you do have one, and you choose not to tell me what I want to know, you should take it out. Call 911. Right away. Because I’m going to throw you through that window. You don’t want to run the risk of bleeding out on the floor.’

‘No one’s calling 911.’ It was a man’s voice, from somewhere behind Reacher’s back.

‘And if anyone’s getting thrown through a window, it’ll be you.’ A second voice.

Reacher turned and saw two men strutting out of the alley. Both were also around six feet tall. Both were bald with full bushy beards. They were wearing greasy coveralls and were broad with thick ape-like arms curving out in front of them. Reacher pictured them in a truck workshop carrying giant tyres around all day.

‘You see, this is why I don’t like alleys,’ Reacher said. ‘They attract rats. Are there any more in there? If so, they’d better slink out now. Because I don’t know what you have in mind but whatever it is, two tubs of lard aren’t going to get it done.’

‘There are three of us.’ The original guy now had his hand out of his pocket and he’d bunched it into a fist.

Reacher grabbed him by his ear, spun him around and launched him forward so that he bounced off the other guys’ bellies and landed at their feet. ‘You’re not quite the same weight class, but stay where I can see you all the same.’ Reacher waited for the heavier men to help him up. They got him vertical then closed in tight on either side. A subconscious urge to defend the weakest in the group? Or stupidity? Reacher didn’t know. But whatever the reason, it was a poor position to adopt. They should have spread out. Formed a triangle. Multiplied the threat they posed. Put the bigger guys on the outside corners. Have them advance together. Attack simultaneously. Then even if Reacher successfully blocked them both he’d temporarily be occupied. The skinny guy would be free. Front and centre. His chance to be a hero.

‘I assume there was some kind of message you were planning to deliver,’ Reacher said. ‘Want to tell me what it was?’

The broad guys swapped glances, then the one who’d been the first to emerge from the alley took a step forward. ‘We know what you’re doing,’ he said. ‘Stop it. Go home. And take your boss with you.’

‘My boss being?’

‘The man you came here with.’

‘OK. Now we have a real problem. You know why? If you think that guy’s my boss, you must think I’m here to work. If I’m here to work, I’m getting paid. If I stop working and leave, I won’t get paid. I’ll lose out. So it’s like you’re trying to take money out of my pocket. Do you know what happens to people who try to do that?’

The guy glanced at his buddy but didn’t answer.

‘The details vary but the outcome is always the same. A long stay in the hospital. But this is your lucky day. I’m going to give you a chance to forgo the usual penalty. Tell me who sent you and I’ll call it even.’

‘Can’t do that.’

‘Are you trying to annoy me?’ Reacher said. ‘I really dislike the imprecise use of language. You mean you won’t tell me. Obviously you can. In fact, you will. You just need the necessary encouragement.’

Reacher grabbed the skinny guy and pulled him forward. Changed their geometry. Cut their options.

‘Try again,’ Reacher said. ‘Tell me who sent you.’

None of the men replied.

Reacher twisted the skinny guy’s hand so that his inner arm was facing up, then gripped him by the wrist. ‘You know when people say a kid has a broken arm, the bone is often not severed all the way? It’s what’s called a green-stick fracture. The bone’s just bent. Because young people are supple. But as you grow older, your bones become more brittle. They no longer bend. They shatter. Now, this guy’s no kid. He’s not old, either. I wonder how far his bones will go before they snap?’

Reacher started to bend. The guy started to scream. More in anticipation than pain, Reacher thought, given the limited amount of force he was using. He kept an eye on the broad guys’ position. They were running out of time. Their best option now would be for the skinny guy to drop to the ground and the other two rush simultaneously and push Reacher back against the wall, pinning his arms. And if they were lucky, snagging his legs.

They didn’t move.

Reacher bent the arm further. The guy screamed louder and rose up on to his tiptoes. Even if he could no longer drop, the other two should still charge. They’d end up in more of a tangle and their guy might get a little squashed but it was still their best bet.

They didn’t move.

Reacher bent the arm further. The guy screamed louder. He rose up higher on his tiptoes. The guy on Reacher’s right moved forward. Slowly. And alone. Reacher shifted his right hand to grip the skinny guy’s neck and rotated so that his head tracked the bigger guy’s movement. He waited until the two guys’ heads were inches apart. Twisted so that their temples were parallel. Then drove his left fist hard into the side of the skinny guy’s skull, using it like a cue ball to sink the bigger guy. Reacher let go and the pair slumped down in a tangled heap of limbs. He spun back, his elbow raised in case the other guy was following in. But he hadn’t moved. He was standing still, mouth open and broad ape arms curving uselessly out in front.

‘It’s just you and me now,’ Reacher said. ‘What should we talk about?’

The guy didn’t answer.

‘How about this? Answer my question about who sent you and you can take your friends to the hospital. Otherwise, you’ll be joining them there. It’s your choice.’

The man stepped back as if retreating but he planted his rear foot way too deliberately. He paused, then sprang forward, arms wide, trying to catch Reacher in a bear hug. It would have been a reasonable move if he’d disguised it more effectively. As it was, Reacher chopped him on both sides of the neck then grabbed the front of his coveralls, pivoted, and launched him into the wall. The man’s eyes glazed over, and all the breath was knocked out of him. Reacher jabbed him in the solar plexus, but gently. He wanted to put the guy down but not knock him out. Not until he revealed a name, anyway. The man folded forward, his legs buckled, and he wound up sitting at Reacher’s feet. But before he could speak again Reacher heard a siren. Moments later the street was pulsing with red and blue light.

‘Stop. Hands where I can see them.’ The voice was distorted by the loudspeaker but Reacher recognized it all the same. ‘And this time you are getting down on the sidewalk.’