Page 49 of Chain Reaction

“A ten-thirty-one. Got it? He’ll understand.”

“I’ll be right back,” the kid said. Reacher heard the plasticky clatter as the phone went down on the counter. Military police radio code 10-31 meant investigator required. A uniformed patrol would call it in if they came across a situation above their pay grade. Probably Elwood hadn’t gotten one in years. But he would remember.

Reacher listened to the hiss of the open line and watched the blue bungalow down the street. The front door opened and two women came out. They walked together down the path. Maybe thirty years old. Maybe thirty-five. Neat inconspicuous clothes, but nothing formal. Just office wear. Lawyers, or paralegals, or clerical staff. Impossible to tell. They turned right on the sidewalk and walked away from him toward town. The lights stayed on inside. Someone was still in there.

Reacher heard the phone being picked up off the counter.

A voice said, “Yes?”

Deep, clipped, authoritative, a little impatient, a little irritated. The sound of senior officers everywhere.

Reacher said, “Colonel Elwood?”

“Who is this?”

“General Turner will explain. She’s on her way back to D.C. She’s going to call you from her landline when she gets home. She’s going to warn you about a potential situation regarding your stay in Summertown.”

“Who are you?”

“General Turner will explain,” Reacher said again.

“What situation in Summertown?”

“Your man Bisley was taken against his will from that motel. Chances are they’ll try the same thing with you.”

“Who will?”

“As of now, persons unknown. General Turner will warn you they might be there by morning. I now believe it could be earlier than that. The middle of the night, possibly. Maybe even before. They’re burning a short fuse right now. They’re getting anxious. Reaction time in that part of the world seems to be about ninety minutes.”

“You need to tell me who you are.”

“No, I really don’t,” Reacher said. “Best of luck.”

He clicked off the call. He put the phone in his pocket and leaned on the tree and watched the building down the street.

—

Down on the nerd floor Saxby Cameron dialed his phone. Axel Brill’s private number. Brill answered and Cameron said, “General Turner has a meeting first thing in the morning with the Chief of Staff in his conference room in the E-ring of the Pentagon. It was just added to her calendar.”

“Tomorrow?” Brill said. “Already? That’s awesome, bro.”

“She rents a house nearby in Virginia. The algorithm suggests that’s where she’ll be tonight. There’s no record of hotel bookings for local meetings.”

“Do you have her exact address?”

Cameron read it out. Brill wrote it down. Then he dialed his flip.

—

Reacher leaned on the tree and watched the office down the street. No one else came out. No one went in. The sun dropped lower. Long shadows crept left to right in front of him. Then a woman came out of the acupuncture office beside him. She was a small Asian person wearing hospital scrubs made out of a satin material with a Chinese pattern. She walked straight toward him and stopped six feet away. She steepled her fingers and pressed her palms together and bowed in his direction.

She said, “May I help you, sir?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Reacher said. “I’m not in pain and I’m not addicted to anything.”

“Really I meant, why are you standing on my lawn?”

“I’m communing with your tree.”