Die Trying by Lee Child

The aide shrugged and McGrath slipped the dynamite report back into the

pile. Webster looked around and slapped both palms lightly on the

tabletop.

“I’m going back to DC,” he said. “Got to get a position.”

Johnson shrugged his shoulders. He knew nothing could start without a

trip back to DC to get a position. Webster turned to McGrath.

“You three move up to Butte,” he said. “Get settled in the office

there. If this guy Jackson calls, put him on maximum alert.”

“We can chopper you up there,” the aide said.

“And we need surveillance,” Webster said. “Can you get the air force

to put some camera planes over Yorke?”

Johnson nodded.

They’ll be there,” he said. Twenty-four hours a day. We’ll give you a

live video feed into Butte. A rat farts, you’ll see it.”

“No intervention,” Webster said. “Not yet.”

TWENTY-NINE

SHE HEARD FOOTSTEPS IN THE CORRIDOR AT THE EXACT MOMENT the sixth bolt

came free. A light tread. Not Jackson. Not a man treading carefully.

A woman, walking normally. The steps halted outside her door. There

was a pause. She rested the long tube back on the frame. A key went

into the lock. She pulled the mattress back into place. Dragged the

blanket over it. Another pause. The door opened.

A woman came into the room. She looked like all of them looked, white,

lean, long straight hair, strong plain face, no make-up, no adornment,

red hands. She was carrying a tray, with a white cloth mounded up over

it. No weapon.

“Lunch,” she said.

Holly nodded. Her heart was pounding. The woman was standing there,

the tray in her hands, looking around the room, staring hard at the new

pine walls.

“Where do you want this?” she asked. “On the bed?”

Holly shook her head.

“On the floor,” she said.

The woman bent and placed the tray on the floor.

“Guess you could use a table,” she said. “And a chair.”

Holly glanced down at the flatware and thought: tools.

9.9.7

“You want me to get them to bring you a chair?” the woman asked.

“No,” Holly said.

“Well, I could use one,” the woman said. “I’ve got to wait and watch

you eat. Make sure you don’t steal the silverware.”

Holly nodded vaguely and circled around the woman. Glanced at the open

door. The woman followed her gaze and grinned.

“Nowhere to run,” she said. “We’re a long way from anywhere, and

there’s some difficult terrain in the way. North, you’d reach Canada

in a couple of weeks, if you found enough roots and berries and bugs to

eat. West, you’d have to swim the river. East, you’d get lost in the

forest or eaten by a bear, and even if you didn’t, you’re still a month

away from Montana. South, we’d shoot you. The border is crawling with

guards. You wouldn’t stand a chance.”

The road is blocked?” Holly asked.

The woman smiled.

“We blew the bridge,” she said. There is no road, not anymore.”

“When?” Holly asked her. “We drove in.”

“Just now,” the woman said. “You didn’t hear it? I guess you

wouldn’t, not with these walls.”

“So how does Readier get sent out?” Holly asked. “He’s supposed to be

carrying some sort of a message.”

The woman smiled again.

That plan has changed,” she said. “Mission canceled. He’s not

going.”

“Why not?” Holly asked.

The woman looked straight at her.

“We found out what happened to Peter Bell,” she said.

Holly went quiet.

“Readier killed him,” the woman said. “Suffocated him. In North

Dakota. We were just informed. But I expect you know all about it,

right?”

Holly stared at her. She thought: Reacher’s in big trouble. She saw

him, handcuffed and alone somewhere.

“How did you find out?” she asked quietly.

The woman shrugged.

“We have a lot of friends,” she said.

Holly kept on staring at her. She thought: the mole. They know we

were in North Dakota. Takes a map and a ruler to figure out where we

are now. She saw computer keyboards clicking and Jackson’s name

scrolling up on a dozen screens.

“What’s going to happen to Readier?” she asked.

“A life for a life,” the woman said. That’s the rule here. Same for