Die Trying by Lee Child

hand. Remembered his own being confiscated. He raised the Clock and

wedged his wrist against a tree. Sighted down the barrel.

“Forget it,” Reacher said.

McGrath kept his eyes on Brogan and shook his head.

“I’m not going to forget it,” he said quietly. “Bastard sold Holly

out.”

“I meant forget the Clock,” Reacher said. That’s a hundred yards.

Clock won’t get near. You’d be lucky to hit the damn hut from here.”

McGrath lowered the Clock and Reacher handed him the M-16. Watched

with interest as McGrath sighted it in.

“Where?” Reacher asked.

“Chest,” McGrath said.

Reacher nodded.

“Chest is good,” he said.

McGrath steadied himself and fired. He was good, but not really good.

The rifle was still set to burst fire, and it loosed three rounds. The

first hit Brogan in the upper left of his forehead, and the other two

stitched upward and blasted fragments off the door frame. Good, but

not very. But good enough to do the job. Brogan went down like a

marionette with the strings cut. He just telescoped into the ground,

right in front of the doorway. Reacher took the M-16 back and sprayed

the trees on the edge of the clearing until the magazine clicked empty.

Reloaded and handed the Clock back to McGrath. Nodded him east through

the forest. They turned together and

walked straight into Joseph Ray. He was unarmed and half dressed.

Blood dried on his face like brown paint. He was fumbling with his

shirt buttons. They were done up into the wrong holes.

“Women and children are going to die,” he said.

“You all got an hour, Joe,” Reacher said back to him. “Spread the

word. Anybody wants to stay alive, better head for the hills.”

The guy just shook his head.

“No,” he said. “We’ve got to assemble on the parade ground. Those are

our instructions. We’ve got to wait for Beau there.”

“Beau won’t be coming,” Reacher said.

Ray shook his head again.

“He will be,” he said. “You won’t beat Beau, whoever you are. Can’t

be done. We got to wait for him. He’s going to tell us what to do.”

“Run for it, Joe,” Reacher said. “For Christ’s sake, get your kids out

of here.”

“Beau says they have to stay here,” Ray said. “Either to enjoy the

fruits of victory, or to suffer the consequences of defeat.”

Reacher just stared at him. Ray’s bright eyes shone out. His teeth

flashed in a brief defiant smile. He ducked his head and ran away.

“Women and children are going to die?” McGrath repeated.

“Borken’s propaganda,” Reacher said. “He’s got them all convinced

compulsory suicide is the penalty for getting beat around here.”

“And they’re standing still for it?” McGrath asked.

“He controls them,” Reacher said. “Worse than you can imagine.”

“I’m not interested in beating them,” McGrath said. “Right now, I just

want to get Holly out.”

“Same thing,” Reacher said.

They walked on in silence, through the trees in the direction of the

Bastion.

“How did you know?” McGrath asked. “About Brogan?”

Reacher shrugged.

“I just felt it,” he said. “His face, I guess. They like hitting

people in the face. They did it to you. But Brogan was unmarked. I

saw his face, no damage, no blood. I figured that was wrong. The

excitement of an ambush, the tension, they’d have worked it off by

roughing him up a little. Like they did with you. But he was theirs,

so he just walked in, handshakes all around.”

McGrath nodded. Put his hand up and felt his nose.

“But what if you were wrong?” he said.

“Wouldn’t have mattered,” Reacher said. “If I was wrong, he wouldn’t

have been standing behind the door. He’d have been down on the floor

with a bunch of broken ribs because all that thumping around would have

been for real.”

McGrath nodded again.

“And all that shouting,” Reacher said. “They paraded along, real slow,

with the guy shouting his head off. They were trying to attract my

attention.”

They’re good at that,” McGrath said. “Webster’s worried about it. He

doesn’t understand why Borken seems so set on getting attention,

escalating this whole thing way bigger than he needs to.”