She had her index finger pressed onto her earpiece. She was
moving fast. Heading towards the cops.
He crawled back again and clambered down through the
trapdoor. Slammed it shut above his head and climbed down
the ladder. Through the next trapdoor and down the next
ladder. He picked up his coat and jacket and ran down the
narrow winding stairs. Past the embroidered ends of the bell
ropes and through to the main body of the church.
The oak door was standing wide open.
The lid of the hymnal box was up and the key was in the door
lock from the inside. He stepped over and stood a yard inside
the building. Waited. Listened. Sprinted out into the cold and
stopped again six feet down the path. Spun round. There was
nobody waiting to ambush him. Nobody there at all. The area
was quiet and deserted. He could hear noise far away on the
field. He shrugged into his coat and headed towards it. Saw a
man running towards him across the gravel, fast and urgent. He
was wearing a long brown coat, some kind of heavy twill,
halfway between a raincoat and an overcoat. It was flapping
open behind him. Tweed jacket and flannel trousers under it.
211
Stout shoes. He had his hand raised like a greeting. A gold
badge palmed in the hand. Some kind of a Bismarck detective.
Maybe the police captain himself.
‘Is the tower secure?’ he shouted from twenty feet away.
‘It’s empty,’ Reacher shouted back. ‘What’s going on?’
The cop stopped where he was and bent over, panting, his
hands on his knees.
‘Don’t know yet,’ he called. ‘Some big commotion.’
Then he stared beyond Reacher’s shoulder at the church.
‘Damn it, you should have locked the door,’ he called. ‘Can’t
leave the damn thing open.’
He raced on towards the church. Reacher ran the other way,
to the field. Met Neagley running in from the entrance road.
‘What?’ she shouted.
‘It’s going down,’ he shouted back.
They ran on together. Through the gate and into the field.
Froelich was moving fast towards the cars. They changed direction
and cut her off.
‘Rifle hidden at the base of the fence,’ she said.
‘Someone’s been in the church,’ Reacher said. He was out of
breath. ‘In the tower. Probably right on the roof. Probably still
around someplace.’
Froelich looked straight at him and stood completely still for
a second. Then she raised her hand and spoke into the microphone
on her wrist.
‘Stand by to abort,’ she said. ‘Emergency extraction on my
count of three.’
Her voice was very calm.
‘Stand by all vehicles. Main car and gun car to target on my
count of three.’
She paused a single beat.
‘One, two, three, abort now, abort now.’
Two things happened simultaneously. First there was a roar
of engines from the mot.orcade and it split apart like a starburst.
The lead cop car jumped forward and the rear cop car slewed
backward and the first two stretch limos hauled through a tight
turn and accelerated across the gravel and straight out onto the
field. At the same time the personal detail jumped all over
Armstrong and literally buried him from view. One agent took
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the lead and the other two took an elbow each and the back-up
three piled on and threw their arms up over Armstrong’s head
from behind and drove him bodily forward through the crowd.
It was like a football manoeuvre, full of speed and power. The
crowd scattered in panic as the cars bumped across the grass
one way and the agents rushed the other way to meet them.
The cars skidded to a stop and the personal detail pushed
Armstrong straight into the first and the back-up crew piled into
the second.
The lead cop had his lights and siren started already and was
crawling forward down the exit road. The two loaded limos
fishtailed on the grass and turned round on the field and
headed back to the blacktop. They rolled up straight behind the
cop car and then all three vehicles accelerated hard and headed
out while the third stretch headed straight for Froelich.
‘We can get these guys,’ Reacher said to her. q’hey’re right