couple of hours either way. It was never regular.”
“So?” he asked again.
She stared at him.
“So it was inside help,” she said. “Inside the Bureau. Had to be.
Think about it, no other possibility. Somebody in the office saw me
leave and dropped a dime.”
He said nothing. Just watched the dismay on her face.
“A mole inside Chicago,” she said. A statement, not a question.
“Inside the Bureau. No other possibility. Shit, I don’t believe
it.”
Then she smiled. A brief, bitter smile.
“And we’ve got a mole inside here,” she said. “Ironic, right? He
identified himself to me. Young guy, big scar on his forehead. He’s
undercover for the Bureau. He says we’ve got people in a lot of these
groups. Deep undercover, in case of emergency. He called it in when
they put the dynamite in my walls.”
He stared back at her.
“You know about the dynamite?” he said.
She grimaced and nodded.
“No wonder you’re going crazy in there,” he said.
Then he stared at her in a new panic.
“Who does this undercover guy call in to?” he asked urgently.
9m
“Our office in Butte,” Holly said. “It’s just a satellite office. One
resident agent. He communicates by radio. He’s got a transmitter
hidden out in the woods. But he’s not using it now. He says they’re
scanning the frequencies.”
He shuddered.
“So how long before the Chicago mole blows his cover?” he said.
Holly went paler.
“Soon, I guess,” she said. “Soon as somebody figures we were headed
out in this direction. Chicago will be dialing up the computers and
trawling for any reports coming out of Montana. His stuff will be top
of the damn pile. Christ, Reacher, you’ve got to get to him first.
You’ve got to warn him. His name is Jackson.”
They turned back. Started hurrying south through the ghost town.
“He says he can break me out,” Holly said. “Tonight, by jeep.”
Reacher nodded grimly.
“Go with him,” he said.
“Not without you,” she said.
They’re sending me anyway,” he said. “I’m supposed to be an emissary.
I’m supposed to tell your people it’s hopeless.”
“Are you going to go?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Not if I can help it,” he said. “Not without `;0:+’ you.”
“You should go,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”
He shook his head again.
“I am worrying about you,” he said.
“Just go,” she said. “Forget me and get out.”
He shrugged. Said nothing.
“Get out if you get the chance, Reacher,” she said. “I mean it.”
She looked like she meant it. She was glaring at him.
“Only if you’re gone first,” he said finally. “I’m sticking around
until you’re out of here. I’m definitely not leaving you with these
maniacs.”
“But you can’t stick around,” she said. “If I’m gone, they’ll go ape
shit It’ll change everything.”
He looked at her. Heard Borken say: she’s more than his daughter.
“Why, Holly?” he said. “Why will it change everything? Who the hell
are you?”
She didn’t answer. Glanced away. Fowler strolled into view, coming
north, smoking. He walked up to them. Stopped right in front of them.
Pulled his pack.
“Cigarette?” he asked.
Holly looked at the ground. Reacher shook his head.
“She tell you?” Fowler asked. “All the comforts of home?”
The guards were standing to attention. They were in a sort of honor
guard on the courthouse steps. Fowler walked Holly to them. A guard
took her inside. At the door, she glanced back at Reacher. He nodded
to her. Tried to make it say: see you later, OK? Then she was gone.
“Now for the grand tour,” Fowler said. “You stick close to me. Beau’s
orders. But you can ask any questions you want, OK?”
Reacher glanced vaguely at him and nodded. Glanced at the six guards
behind him. He walked down the steps and paused. Looked over at the
flagpole. It was set dead center in the remains of a fine square of
lawn in front of the building. He walked across to it and stood in
Loder’s blood and looked around.
The town of Yorke was pretty much dead. Looked like it had died some