It was a perfect cop line and he had a perfect cop voice.
Neagley mouthed I’m sorry. Reacher reversed the Steyr in his
hand. Held it by the barrel.
hrow down the weapon, sir,’ the squat guy called again.
His brother from Bismarck changed direction and ploughed
forward through the snow and moved in closer. He raised the
rifle. It was a Steyr too, a long handsome gun. It was all covered
with snow. It was pointing straight at Reacher’s head. The
low morning sun made the shadow of the barrel ten feet
long. Reacher thought: what happened to that lonely motel bed? Snowflakes swirled and the air was bitter cold. He pulled his
arm back and tossed his pistol high in the air. It arced lazily
thirty feet through the falling snow and landed and buried itself
in a drift. The guy from Bismarck fumbled in his pocket with
his left hand and pulled out his badge. Held it high in his palm.
The badge was gold. It was backed by a worn leather slip. The
leather was brown. The rifle wavered. The guy fumbled the
badge away again and brought the rifle to his shoulder and held
it level and steady.
‘We’re police officers,’ he said.
‘I know you are,’ Reacher said back. He glanced around.
The snow was falling hard. It was whipping and swirling. The
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crevasse they were in was like a cave with no roof. It was
probably the loneliest place on the planet. The guy from the
garage video pushed Neagley nearer. She stumbled and he
caught up with her and pushed her off to one side and kept his
handgun hard in her back.
‘But who are you?’ the Bismarck guy asked.
Reacher didn’t answer. Just checked the geometry. It wasn’t
attractive. He was triangulated twelve feet from either guy, and
the snow underfoot was slick and slow.
The Bismarck guy smiled. ‘You here to make the world safe
for democracy?’
‘I’m here because you’re a lousy shot,’ Reacher said. “ou got
the wrong person on Thursday.’ Then he moved very cautiously
and pulled his cuff and checked his watch. And smiled. ‘And
you lose again. It’s too late now. You’re going to miss him.’
The Bismarck guy just shook his head. ‘Police scanner. In
our truck. We’re listening to Casper PD. Armstrong is delayed
twenty minutes. There was a weather problem in South Dakota.
So we decided to hang out and let you catch us up.’
Reacher said nothing.
‘Because we don’t like you,’ the Bismarck guy said. He spoke
along the rifle stock. His lips moved against it. ‘You’re poking
around where you’re not welcome. In a purely private matter. In
something that doesn’t concern you at all. So consider your
selves under arrest. You want to plead guilty?’
Reacher said nothing.
‘Or you just want to plead?’
‘Like you did?’ Reacher said. ‘When that ball bat was getting
close?’
The guy went quiet for a second.
‘Your attitude isn’t helping your cause,’ he said.
He paused again, five long seconds.
q3ae jury is back,’ he said.
‘What jury?’
The and my brother. That’s all the jury you’ve got. We’re your
whole world right now.’
‘Whatever happened, it was thirty years ago.’
‘A guy does something like that, he should pay.’
qhe guy died.’
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The Bismarck cop shrugged. The rifle barrel moved. ‘You
should read your Bible, my friend. The sins of the fathers, you
ever heard of that?’
‘What sins? You lost a fight, is all.’
‘We never lose. Sooner or later, we always win. And Armstrong watched. Snot-nosed rich kid, all smiling and grinning. A man
doesn’t forget a thing like that.’
Reacher said nothing. The silence was total. Each snowflake
felt separately audible as it hissed and whirled through the air. Keep him talking, Reacher thought. Keep him moving. But he
looked into the crazed eyes and couldn’t think of a thing to say.
ffhe woman goes in the truck,’ the guy said. ‘We’ll have a
little fun with her, after we deal with Armstrong. But I’m going
to shoot you right now.’
‘Not with that rifle,’ Reacher said. Keep him talking. Keep him
moving. rhe muzzle is full of slush. It’ll blow up in your hands.’