The Hard Way

"And?"

Silence for a long moment.

"You see, I’ve been through this before," Lane said. "Five years ago. Anne was taken from me. In just the same way. But back then I followed procedure. I called the cops, even though the men on the phone had been very clear that I shouldn’t. The cops called the FBI."

"And what happened?"

"The FBI screwed up somehow," Lane said. "They must have been spotted at the ransom drop. Anne died. They found her body a month later in New Jersey."

Reacher said nothing.

"That’s why there’s no cops this time," Lane said.

Chapter 6

REACHER AND LANE sat in silence for a long time. Then Reacher said, "Fifty-five minutes. You should be ready for the next call."

"You’re not wearing a watch," Lane said.

"I always know what time it is."

Reacher followed him back to the living room. Lane stood by the table again, with his fingers spread on the surface. Reacher guessed he wanted to take the call with his men all around him. Maybe he needed the comfort. Or the support.

The phone rang right on time, at two o’clock in the morning exactly. Lane picked it up and listened. Reacher heard faint robot squawks from the earpiece. Lane said, "Put Kate on," but his request must have been refused, because then he said, "Please don’t hurt her." He listened for another minute and said, "OK." Then he hung up.

"Five hours from now," he said. "Seven o’clock in the morning. Same place, same routine. The blue BMW. One person only."

"I’ll do it," Gregory said.

The other men in the room stirred with frustration. "We should all be there," one of them said. He was a small dark American who looked like an accountant, except for his eyes, which were as flat and dead as a hammerhead shark’s. "Ten minutes later we would know where she is. I can promise you that."

"One man," Lane said. "That was the instruction."

"This is New York City," the guy with the shark’s eyes said. "There are always people around. They can’t be expecting deserted streets."

"Apparently they know us," Lane said. "They would recognize you."

"I could go," Reacher said. "They wouldn’t recognize me."

"You came in with Gregory. They might be watching the building."

"Conceivable," Reacher said. "But unlikely."

Lane said nothing.

"Your call," Reacher said.

"I’ll think about it," Lane said.

"Think fast. Better if I leave here well in advance."

"Decision in one hour," Lane said. He moved away from the phone and headed back toward the office. Gone to count out the money, Reacher thought. He wondered briefly what five million dollars looked like. The same as one million, he guessed. But with hundreds instead of twenties.

"How much money has he got?" Reacher asked.

"A lot," Gregory said.

"He’s down six million in two days."

The guy with the shark’s eyes smiled.

"We’ll get it back," he said. "You can count on that. As soon as Kate’s home safe we’ll make our move. Then we’ll see who’s down and who’s up. Someone poked a stick in the wrong hornets’ nest this time, that’s for damn sure. And they wasted Taylor. He was one of us. They’ll be sorry they were ever born."

Reacher glanced into the guy’s empty eyes and believed every word he said. Then the guy stuck out his hand, abruptly. And a little warily. "I’m Carter Groom," he said. "I’m pleased to meet you. I think. I mean, as much as I can be, given the circumstances."

The four other men introduced themselves with a quiet cascade of names and handshakes. Each man was polite, nothing more. Each was full of reserve in front of a stranger. Reacher tried to tie the names to faces. Gregory he already knew. A guy with a big scar over his eye was called Addison. The shortest guy among them was a Latino called Perez. The tallest was called Kowalski. There was a black guy called Burke.

"Lane told me you do bodyguarding and corporate security," Reacher said.

Sudden silence. No reply.

"Don’t worry," Reacher said. "I wasn’t convinced anyway. My guess is you guys were all operational noncoms. Fighting men. So I think your Mr. Lane is into something else entirely."

"Like what?" Gregory asked.

"I think he’s pimping mercenaries," Reacher said.

The guy called Groom shook his head. "Wrong choice of words, pal."

"What would be the right choice?"

"We’re a private military corporation," Groom said. "You got a problem with that?"

"I don’t really have an opinion."

"Well, you better get one, and it better be a good one. We’re legal. We work for the Pentagon, just like we always did, and just like you did, back in the day."

"Privatization," Burke said. "The Pentagon loves it. It’s more efficient. The era of big government is over."

"How many guys have you got?" Reacher asked. "Just what’s here?"

Groom shook his head again. "We’re the A-team. Like senior NCOs. Then there’s a Rolodex full of B-team squad members. We took a hundred guys to Iraq."

"Is that where you’ve been? Iraq?"

"And Colombia and Panama and Afghanistan. We go anywhere Uncle Sam needs us."

"What about where Uncle Sam doesn’t need you?"

Nobody spoke.

"My guess is the Pentagon pays by check," Reacher said. "But there seems to be an awful lot of cash around here, too."

No response.

"Africa?" Reacher said.

No response.

"Whatever," Reacher said. "Not my business where you’ve been. All I need to know is where Mrs. Lane has been. For the last couple of weeks."

"What difference does that make?" Kowalski asked.

"There was some surveillance," Reacher said. "Don’t you think? I don’t suppose the bad guys were just hanging out at Bloomingdale’s every day on the off chance."

"Mrs. Lane was in the Hamptons," Gregory said. "With Jade, most of the summer. They only came back three days ago."

"Who drove them back?"

"Taylor."

"And then they were based here?"

"Correct."

"Anything happen out in the Hamptons?"

"Like what?" Groom asked.

"Like anything unusual," Reacher said. "Anything out of the ordinary."

"Not really," Groom said.

"A woman showed up at the door one day," Gregory said.

"What kind of a woman?"

"Just a woman. She was fat."

"Fat?"

"Kind of heavyset. About forty. Long hair, center part. Mrs. Lane took her walking on the beach. Then the woman left. I figured it was a friend on a visit."

"Ever saw her before?"

Gregory shook his head. "Maybe an old friend. From the past."

"What did Mrs. Lane and Jade do after they got back here to the city?"

"I don’t think they did anything yet."

"No, she went out once," Groom said. "Mrs. Lane, I mean. Not Jade. On her own, shopping. I drove her."

"Where?" Reacher asked.

"Staples."

"The office supply store?" Reacher had seen them all over. A big chain, red and white decor, huge places full of stuff he had no need of. "What did she buy?"

"Nothing," Groom said. "I waited twenty minutes on the curb, and she didn’t bring anything out."