Die Trying by Lee Child

it my way. You’ve been public enemy number one for five days.”

Reacher waved the apology away and stood up and helped McGrath to his

feet. Bent back down to the dirt and picked up the Glock and handed it

to him.

“Your nose OK?” he asked.

McGrath slipped the gun into his jacket pocket. Touched his nose

gently and grimaced.

“Bastard hit me,” he said. “I think it’s broken. Just turned and hit

me, like they couldn’t wait.”

There was a noise in the woods, off to the left. Reacher caught

McGrath’s arm and pulled him deeper into the forest. Pushed through

the brush and got facing east. He stood silently and listened for

movement. McGrath was taking the ropes off his ankles and winding

himself up to ask a question.

“So is Holly OK?” he said.

Reacher nodded. But grimly.

“So far,” he said. “But it’s going to be a hell of a problem getting

her out.”

“I know about the dynamite,” McGrath said. That was the last thing

Jackson called in. Monday night.”

“It’s a problem,” Reacher said again. “One stray round, and she’s had

it. And there are a hundred trigger-happy people up here. Whatever we

do, we need to do it carefully. Have you got reinforcements coming in?

Hostage rescue?”

McGrath shook his head.

“Not yet,” he said. “Politics.”

“Maybe that’s good,” Reacher said. “They’re talking about mass suicide

if they look like getting beat. Live free or die, you know?”

“Whichever,” McGrath said. “Their choice. I don’t care what happens

to them. I just care about Holly.”

They fell silent and crept together through the trees. Stopped deep in

the woods, about level with the back of the mess hall. Now Reacher was

winding himself up to ask a question. But he waited, frozen, a finger

to his lips. There was noise to his left. A patrol, sweeping the

fringe of the forest. McGrath made to move, but Reacher caught his arm

and stopped him. Better to stand stock still than to risk making noise

of their own. The patrol came nearer. Reacher raised his rifle and

switched it to rapid fire. Smothered the sound of the click with his

palm. McGrath held his breath. The patrol was visible, ten feet away

through the trees. Six men, six rifles. They were glancing

rhythmically as they walked, left and right, left and right, between

the edge of the sunny clearing and the dark green depths of the woods.

Reacher breathed out, silently. Amateurs, with poor training and bad

tactics. The bright sun in their eyes on every second glance was

ruining their chances of seeing into the gloom of the forest. They

were blind. They passed by without stopping. Reacher followed the

sound of their progress and turned back to McGrath.

“Where are Brogan and Milosevic?” he whispered.

McGrath nodded, morosely.

“I know,” he said, quietly. “One of them is bent. I finally figured

that out about half a second before they grabbed me up.”

“Where are they?” Reacher asked again.

“Up here somewhere,” McGrath said. “We came in through the ravine

together, a mile apart.”

“Which one is it?” Readier asked.

McGrath shrugged.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Can’t figure it out. I’ve been going over

and over it. They both did good work. Milosevic found the dry

cleaner. He brought the video in. Brogan did a lot of work tracing it

all back here to Montana. He traced the truck. He liaised with

Quantico. My gut says neither one is bent.”

“When was I ID’d?” Reacher asked.

“Thursday morning,” McGrath said. “We had your complete history.”

Reacher nodded.

“He called it in right away,” he said. These people suddenly knew who

I was, Thursday morning.”

McGrath shrugged again.

They were both there at the time,” he said. “We were all down at

Peterson.”

“Did you get Holly’s fax?” Reacher asked.

“What fax?” McGrath said. “When?”

This morning,” Reacher said. “Early, maybe ten to five? She faxed you

a warning.”

“We’re intercepting their line,” McGrath said. “In a truck,” down the

road here. But ten to five, I was in bed.”

“So who was minding the store?” Reacher asked.

McGrath nodded.

“Milosevic and Brogan,” he said, sourly. The two of them. Ten to five