that’s for damn sure. I saw the price list in there. Specialized
processes and gentle chemicals and all.”
The next frame showed Holly starting toward the exit door on the left
of the picture. The top of the Korean woman’s head was visible, on her
way through to the back of the store. The time was showing at twelve
fifteen exactly. McGrath hitched his chair closer and stuck his face a
foot from the glowing monochrome screen.
“OK,” he said. “So where did you go now, Holly?”
She had the nine cleaned garments in her left hand. She was holding
them up, awkwardly, so they wouldn’t drag on the floor. Her right
elbow was jammed into the curved-metal clip of her crutch, but her hand
wasn’t gripping the handle. The next frame showed it reaching out to
push the door open. McGrath hit the button again.
“Christ,” he shouted.
Milosevic gasped out loud and Brogan looked stunned. There was no
doubt about what they were seeing. The next frame showed an unknown
man attacking Holly Johnson. He was tall and heavy. He was seizing
her crutch with one hand and her cleaning with the other. No doubt
about it. Both his arms were extended and he was taking her crutch and
her cleaning away from her. He was caught in a perfect snapshot
through the glass door. The three agents stared at him. There was
total silence in the conference room. Then McGrath hit the button
again. The time code jumped ahead ten seconds. There was another gasp
as they caught their breath simultaneously.
Holly Johnson was suddenly surrounded by a triangle of three men. The
tall guy who had attacked her had been joined by two more. The tall
guy had Holly’s cleaning slung up over his shoulder and he had seized
Holly’s arm. He was staring straight up into the store window like he
knew a camera was in there. The other two guys were facing Holly
head-on.
They pulled guns on her,” McGrath shouted. “Son of a bitch, look at
that.”
He thumbed the button again until the bar of snow cleared away from the
bottom of the frame and the whole picture stabilized into perfect
sharpness. The two new guys had their right arms bent at ninety
degrees, and there was tension showing in their shoulder muscles.
“The car,” Milosevic said. “They’re going to put her in the car.”
Beyond Holly and the triangle of men was the car which had parked up
fourteen frames ago. It was just sitting there at the curb. McGrath
hit the button again. The bar of white snow scrolled down. The small
knot of people on the screen jumped sideways ten feet. The tall guy
who had attacked Holly was leading the way into the back of the car.
Holly was being pushed in after him by one of the new guys. The other
new guy was opening the front passenger door. Inside the car, a fourth
man was plainly visible through the side glass, sitting at the wheel.
McGrath hit the button again. The bar of snow scrolled down. The
street was empty. The car was gone. Like it had never been there at
all.
THIRTEEN
E NEED TO TALK; HOLLY SAID. “So talk,” Reacher replied.
They were sprawled out on the mattresses in the gloom inside the truck,
rocking and bouncing, but not much. It was pretty clear they were
heading down a highway. After fifteen minutes of a slow straight road,
there had been a deceleration, a momentary stop, and a left turn
followed by steady acceleration up a ramp. Then a slight sway as the
truck nudged left onto the pavement. Then a steady droning cruise,
maybe sixty miles an hour, which had continued ever since and was
feeling like it would continue forever.
The temperature inside the dark space had slowly climbed higher. Now
it was pretty warm. Reacher had taken his shirt off. But the truck
had started cool from the night in the cow barn, and Reacher felt as
long as it kept moving through the air, it was going to be tolerable.
The problem would come if they stopped for any length of time. Then