Page 2 of Chain Reaction

“A meeting with the general.”

“Which general?”

“Our general.”

“Who are you, that you have your own general?”

“Sir, it’s a new agency, quite large. It combines several different disciplines. Overall command was considered to lie at the one-star level. An O7 brigadier general.”

“Why does he want to see me?”

“Sir, it’s a she.”

“Same question.”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“You mean you don’t know.”

“Yes, sir, I don’t.”

“What’s the name of the new agency?”

“I’m not at liberty to say.”

“But you do know that one, right?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

Reacher paused a beat.

He said, “I’m here to get a new ATM card. That’s all. That’s my main priority today. But you know that, obviously. It’s why you’re here. How long have you been waiting?”

“Two days,” the guy said. He went into one of his many pockets and came out with a white envelope. He said, “We thought we might save you a minute or two.” He handed the envelope to Reacher. It was empty, except for a small plastic rectangle that slid around inside. He took a look. His new card, clean and shiny. Good for the next many years.

“Thank you, chief,” he said. “Much appreciated.”

The guy said, “Sir, the invitation from the general still stands.”

Reacher nodded. He said, “But it’s not a very attractive proposition, from my point of view, is it? A brand-new agency that won’t even say its name? And can get instant obedience from civilian banks? I mean, that’s not an automatic hell-yeah, is it? Would you go, soldier? Deep inside the lion’s den?”

“I would be ordered. You’re being invited.”

“I was invited to go line dancing once. I said no to that too.”

“Sir, the general anticipated a certain degree of reluctance. But she wants to make it happen. So it doesn’t have to be the lion’s den. She’s happy to come to you. One on one. Absolutely your choice of time and place. Whatever works.”

Reacher said nothing. Not his circus. Also not his comfort zone. He had been terminal at major. A humble O4. The most junior of the senior ranks, and he had been happy to keep it that way. Light colonels and full birds were bad enough. One-stars and up were a total pain in the ass. That had been his experience. Best avoided.

But on the other hand, he was curious. Perhaps. Slightly. Mildly. Maybe more. And he had known a diner about a mile beyond the Rock Creek building, going the other direction, away from the river. Maybe it was still there. Probably was. People had to eat, whoever they were. It had been his kind of place. Good coffee, good grill work, good griddle work. Decent pie. The waitresses had been tough but friendly. Maybe it was still the same. Some things had to be.

He said its name, and the warrant officer nodded once. Noted. Then Reacher said, “Breakfast tomorrow morning, 0800 hours. Tell the general to wear plain clothes. A one-star in uniform would scare away half the customers. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for that.”

The warrant officer nodded again, noted, and Reacher walked away.

Chapter 2

Normally Reacher might have gotten there many hours early, maybe four in the morning, to scope it out, to monitor the comings and goings, to watch for perimeter security setting up, to look for back-up hiding out behind the dumpsters. But he didn’t. He was in the belly of the beast. D.C., northern Virginia. Their turf. They were going to do whatever they wanted to, and there was nothing he could do about it. All he had was a binary choice, take the risk or hit the road.