Page 130 of Chain Reaction

He was close enough by then that his brain could finally interpret the odd vague shapes in the shadow in front of him, that steps ago could have been rocks, or part of the fence, or some kind of reinforcement for the foundation, but were now revealed to be prone human beings aiming guns. He crunched to a stop on the gravel. He had an MP5 on a sling. He swung it forward and Turner hit him center mass with a spitty burst of three silent rounds. A tight pattern. You could have covered it with a business card. Medically equivalent to a hole Reacher could have put his fist through. The guy went down face first and crashed on the gravel.

By then Reacher was already on his way to haul him onward to safety in the shadow. He grabbed the guy’s wrists. Five more feet. Plus five for luck. The guy left a furrow in the gravel and a trail of blood. Then Reacher ducked back and got behind the shotgun again. If someone had noticed, then noise didn’t really matter anymore. The next guy to step in the channel was going to get a solid steel slug through his head. Which had a deterrent effect all its own, mostly on those inside the splash radius.

But no one came.

Five minutes gone.

They got up and moved forward, fast and quiet, past the chair-borrower’s body, onward to where they had been before, safely out of sight, but close enough. The fence meant they couldn’t press up against the side wall of the building and peer one-eyed around its corner. They had to hang back and calculate the triangular geometry. They went as far as they felt they could, checking the view after every step. If we can’t see them, they can’t see us. The safe point came where the shadow began. They leaned on the fence and took a breath.

Six minutes gone.

Reacher said, “Remember the part where we were pretending I was in your chain of command?”

“Yes,” she said.

“That’s over now,” he said. “We’re going to do this one at a time, and I’m going first.”

“Why not me first?”

“They’ll shoot you on sight. Those are their orders. By now they must have figured out you and Elwood are doing this alone. You’re putting nothing in the computer. No one else in G-99 knows a thing. Therefore taking you and Elwood out solves their problem forever. Therefore they’re not planning on a big negotiation. They’re planning to aim and fire before the first word is spoken.”

“They’ll do the same to you.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Because Hennessy wants to fight me. He doesn’t like me. He’s going to make it personal. I’ll get a few minutes to talk. I’ll move them out of position as much as I can. You and Elwood can pick off a couple from the flanks, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“He wants you unarmed.”

“He doesn’t have X-ray vision.”

Seven minutes gone.

“I can’t allow it,” she said.

“That part is over now.”

“Personal, not military,” she said. “I dragged you into this. I can’t let you get killed over it.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” he said. “Not anymore. This is about Amanda now. She already lost her dad. She ain’t going to lose her mom too. Not while I live and breathe.”

“I want you in the world. I want to be able to feel you’re out there somewhere, doing something. I need that.”

“No one ever got me yet. Plenty tried. One day, maybe, but not today. Not against a leftover first sergeant with too much on his mind. He’s juggling strategy and tactics and corporate bullshit and a boss with a psychotic ego. His head is spinning. He can’t think straight.”

“That’s not good. It makes him unpredictable.”

“Except with two things. First, he’ll keep Julia alive until you and Elwood are dead. He has to. She’s the bait. Second, if he wants to go head to head with me, he’ll lose. These are facts we can rely on. So I’m going first.”

She didn’t answer.

Eight minutes gone. Theoretically Elwood should be arriving at the far back corner right about then. Doubled over, breathing hard, shaking. If he hadn’t already tired out or twisted an ankle or had a heart attack. But he hadn’t. A phone buzzed in Turner’s pocket. Not her work phone. Her personal cell. A text message.

“Elwood is in position,” she said. “Clear line of sight, range two hundred and fifty yards, ready to fire on command.”

“Any typos or spelling mistakes?”