Blue Moon - Lee Child Page 0,45
in slow motion, and the other one is running all speeded up.”
Reacher said nothing.
Abby’s place was close by in terms of physical distance, but it was three sides of a square away in terms of one-way streets. They came on it from the north.
There was a car outside the door.
Parked on the curb. A black Lincoln, facing away. It had dark glass in the rear compartment. From a distance it was impossible to tell who was inside.
“Pull over,” Reacher said.
Abby stopped thirty yards north of the Lincoln.
Reacher said, “Worst case there are two guys in it and I bet their doors are locked.”
“What would the army tell you to do?”
“Fire armor-piercing rounds in sufficient quantity to subdue resistance. And then fire tracer at the gas tank in sufficient quantity to subdue evidence.”
“We can’t do that.”
“Sadly. But we better do something. That’s your house. They’re poking their noses where they don’t belong.”
“Safer to ignore them, surely.”
“Only in the short term,” Reacher said. “We can’t let them have it all their own way. We need to send a message. They’re out of line. They squeezed your address out of an innocent couple with enough taste to hire you and book that band. They need to know there are certain things they shouldn’t do. And they need to know they’re messing with the wrong people. We need to scare them a little bit.”
Abby was quiet a beat.
“You’re nuts,” she said. “You’re one guy. You can’t take them on.”
“Someone has to. I’m used to it. I was a military policeman. I got all the lousy jobs.”
She was quiet another beat.
“Your concern is their doors are locked,” she said. “Because if they are, you can’t get to them.”
“Correct,” Reacher said.
“I could walk around the block and go in the back door. I could turn on all the lights inside. That might get them out of the car for you.”
“No,” Reacher said.
“OK, I could leave the lights off and at least get my stuff.”
“No,” Reacher said again. “For the same reason. They might be waiting inside the house. The car could be empty. Or one and one.”
“That’s creepy.”
“I told you. There are certain things they shouldn’t do.”
“I could live without my stuff. I mean, you do. It’s clearly possible. It could be part of the experiment.”
“No,” Reacher said again. “It’s a free country. If you want your stuff, you should have it. And if they need a message, they should get one.”
“OK, works for me. But how do we do it?”
“That depends on how experimental you want to be.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I’m pretty sure it will work out fine.”
“What will?”
“But you’ll probably worry about it ahead of time.”
“Try me.”
“Ideally I would like you to drive up behind the Lincoln and nudge it in the back bumper at about walking pace.”
“Why?”
“The doors will unlock. For the first responders. The car will think it’s in a minor accident. There’s a little doo-dad in there somewhere. A safety mechanism.”
“So then you can open the doors from the outside.”
“That would be the first tactical objective. All else would follow.”
“They might have guns.”
“For a limited period only. After which I would have them.”
“What if the guys are in the house?”
“I suppose we could set the car on fire. That would send a message.”
“That’s crazy.”
“Let’s take it one step at a time.”
“Will my car get wrecked?”
“It has federal bumpers. Should be good up to five miles an hour. Conceivable you could need another electrical tie.”
“OK,” she said.
“Remember to keep your foot on the clutch pedal. You don’t want to stall out. You want to be ready to reverse away.”
“Then what?”
“You park and go get your stuff, while I tell the guys in the car what they need to do.”
“Which is what?”
“Follow you to some dubious place east of Center. After that it’s up to them.”
She was quiet another long beat.
Then she nodded. A bob of her short dark hair. A gleam in her eye. A smile on her lips, half grim, half excited.
“OK,” she said again. “Let’s do it.”
* * *
—
At that moment Gregory’s right-hand man was laying out what little he knew. He was in the inner office, across the desk from his boss. Which was an intimidating place to be. The desk was massive, ornately carved from toffee-colored wood. The desk chair was huge, made of tufted green leather. Behind the chair was a tall heavy bookcase that matched the desk. Altogether imposing. Not a comfortable place to be, when telling a confusing story.
He