Die Trying by Lee Child

He glanced at the two of them. Reviewed his choices. An adequate

team, he thought. A good mixture. Brogan was older, drier, a

pessimist. A compact man with a tidy, ordered approach, laced with

enough imagination to make him useful. An untidy private life, with a

girlfriend and a couple of ex-wives somewhere, all costing him big

bucks and worry, but it never interfered with his work. Milosevic was

younger, less intuitive, flashier, but solid. A permanent sidekick,

which was not necessarily a fault. A weakness for big expensive

four-wheel-drives, but everybody needs some kind of a hobby. Both of

them were medium-term Bureau veterans, with mileage on their clocks and

scalps on their belts. Both of them were focused and neither of them

ever bitched about the work or the hours. Or the salary, which made

them just about unique. An adequate team. They were new to Chicago,

but this investigation was not going to stay in Chicago. McGrath was

just about sure of that.

“Milo, you figure out her movements,” he said. “Every step, every

minute from twelve noon.”

Milosevic nodded vaguely, like he was already lost in doing that.

“Brogan, background checks,” McGrath said. “We need to find some

reason here.”

Brogan nodded dourly, like he knew the reason was going to be the

beginning and the end of the whole thing.

“I start with the old guy?” he asked.

“Obviously,” McGrath said. That’s what I would do.”

“OK, which one?” Brogan asked.

“Whichever one,” McGrath replied. “Your choice.”

Seventeen hundred and two miles away another executive decision had

been taken. A decision about the third carpenter. The employer drove

back to the white building in the crew chiefs pickup. The third

carpenter had finished up stacking the tools and he took a step forward

when he saw the vehicle approaching. Then he stopped in puzzlement

when he saw the huge figure at the wheel. He stood, uncertain, while

the employer pulled up at the curb and heaved himself out.

“OK?” the employer said to him.

“Where are the guys?” the carpenter asked.

“Something came up,” the employer said. “Something came up.”

“Problem?” the guy asked.

He went quiet, because he was thinking about his share of the price. A

minority share, for sure, because he was the junior guy, but a minority

share of that price was still more cash than he’d seen in a long

time.

“You got a saw there?” the employer asked.

The guy just looked at him.

“Dumb question, right?” the employer said. “You’re a carpenter and

I’m asking you if you got a saw? Just show me your best saw.”

The guy stood still for a moment, then he ducked down and pulled a

power saw from the stack of tools. A big thing in dull metal, wicked

circular blade, fresh sawdust caked all around it.

“Crosscut?” the employer asked. “Good for ripping through real tough

stuff?”

The guy nodded.

“It does the job,” he said, cautiously.

“OK, here’s the deal,” the employer said. “We need a demonstration.”

“Of the saw?” the guy asked.

“Of the room,” the employer said.

“The room?” the guy repeated.

“Supposed to be nobody can get out of it,” the employer said. “That’s

the idea behind it, right?”

“You designed it,” the guy said.

“But did you build it right?” the employer said. “That’s what I’m

asking here. We need a trial run. A demonstration to prove it serves

its purpose.”

“OK, how?” the guy asked.

“You go in there,” the employer said. “See if you can get out by

morning. You built it, right? So you know all the weak spots. If

anybody can get out, you can, that’s for damn sure, right?”

The guy was quiet for a long moment. Trying to understand.

“And if I can?” he asked.

The employer shrugged.

Then you don’t get paid,” he said. “Because you didn’t build it

right.”

The guy went quiet again. Wondering if the employer was joking.

“You spot the flaw in my logic?” the employer asked. “The way you’re

figuring it right now, it’s in your interest just to sit there on your

ass all night, then tomorrow you say to me no sir, I couldn’t get out