Die Trying by Lee Child

“What about the road?” Reacher asked.

“Same thing,” Ray said. “We blow the bridge and we’re safe. Charges

are set right now.”

Reacher nodded slowly. He was thinking about air attack, artillery,

missiles, smart bombs, infiltration of special forces, airborne troops,

parachutes. He was thinking about navy SEALs bridging the river or

Marines bridging the ravine. He was thinking about NATO units rumbling

straight down from Canada.

“What about Holly?” he asked. “What do you want with her?”

Ray smiled. His beard parted and his teeth shone out as bright as his

eyes.

“Beau’s secret weapon,” he said. Think about it. The world government

is going to use her old man to lead the attack. That’s why they

appointed him. You think the president appoints those guys? You got

to be joking. Old man Johnson’s a world government guy, just waiting

for the secret command to move. But when he gets here, what’s he going

to find?”

“What?” Reacher asked.

“He comes up from the south, right?” Ray said. “First building he

sees is that old courthouse, southeast corner of town. You were just

there. She’s up on the second floor, right? You notice the new

construction? Special room, double walls, twenty-two inches apart. The

space is packed with dynamite and blasting caps from the old mine

stores. The first stray shell will blow old man Johnson’s little girl

to kingdom come.”

Reacher nodded again, slowly. Ray looked at him.

“We’re not asking much,” he said. “Sixty miles by sixty miles, what is

that? Thirty-six hundred square miles of territory.”

“But why now?” Reacher asked. “What’s the big hurry?”

“What’s the date?” Ray asked back.

Reacher shrugged.

“July something?” he said.

“July second,” Ray said. Two days to go.”

To what?” Reacher said.

“Independence Day,” Ray said. “July fourth.”

“So?” Reacher asked.

“We’re declaring independence,” Ray said. “Day after tomorrow. The

birth of a brand-new nation. That’s when they’ll come for us, right?

Freedom for the little guys? That’s not in their plan.”

17V

TWENTY-FOUR

THE BUREAU LEAR REFUELED AT FARGO IN AND FLEW STRAIGHT southwest to

California. McGrath had argued again in favor of heading straight for

Montana, but Webster had overruled him. One step at a time was

Webster’s patient way, so they were going to check out the Beau Borken

story in California and then they were going to Peterson Air Force Base

in Colorado to meet with General Johnson. McGrath was about the only

Bureau guy alive capable of shouting at Webster, and he had, but

arguing is not the same thing as winning, so they were all in the air

heading first for Mojave, McGrath and Webster and Brogan and Milosevic,

all overtired, overanxious and morose in the hot noisy cabin.

“I need all the background I can get,” Webster said. They put me in

personal charge and these are not the type of guys I can be vague with,

right?”

McGrath glared at him and thought: don’t play your stupid Beltway games

with Holly’s life, Webster. But he said nothing. Just sat tight until

the tiny plane started arrowing down toward the airfield on the edge of

the desert.

They were on the ground just after two o’clock in the morning, West

Coast time. The Mojave agent-in-charge met them on the deserted tarmac

in his own car. Drove them south through the sleeping town.

The Borkens were a Kendall family,” he said. “Small town, fifty miles

from here. Fanning place, mostly citrus. One-man police department.

The sheriff is waiting for us down there.”

“He know anything?” McGrath asked.

The guy at the wheel shrugged.

“Maybe,” he said. “Small town, right?”

Fifty miles through the desert night at eighty-five took them just

thirty-six minutes. Kendall was a small knot of buildings adrift in a

sea of groves. There was a gas station, a general store, a grower’s

operation and a low cement building with whip antennas spearing upward

from the roof. A smart black-and-white was parked up on the apron

outside. It was marked: Kendall County Sheriff. There was a single

light in the office window behind the car.

The five agents stretched and yawned in the dry night air and trooped

single file into the cement building. The Kendall County sheriff was a