Blue Moon - Lee Child Page 0,81
it was part of her deal with Fisnik. When she got her car fixed. They claim to have eyes everywhere. Maybe that’s how. So she called them and they came right over, and they checked it out.”
“Did they open the trunk?”
“Operationally we have to assume they did. Equally we have to assume the guy is still functioning. Which puts Barton and Hogan in immediate danger. They’re probably fast asleep right now. You better call them.”
“If they’re asleep their phones will be off.”
“Try anyway.”
She did.
Their phones were off.
“That language guy,” Reacher said. “The tanker. Did you get his number?”
“Vantresca?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“OK,” Reacher said. “We’re leaving here on foot. No choice. The small slender woman, and the big ugly man. Broad daylight. Eyes everywhere. Probably not a walk in the park anymore. Probably your second thing of the day.”
“Back to Frank Barton’s house?”
“We need to warn them somehow.”
“I’ll keep trying the phone. But they’ll sleep till ten. You know how it is. Their gig starts at twelve.”
“Wait,” Reacher said. “You can find Vantresca on your phone. He said he had a private security license, and his number was listed in the national directories.”
Abby searched. She typed and swiped and tapped and scrolled.
She said, “Got him.”
Then she said, “It looks like it’s just an office landline. He won’t be in yet.”
“Try anyway.”
She did. She put the phone on speaker and held it balanced on her palm. They heard a series of clicks, as if the call was being bounced from one place to another.
She said, “Maybe out of hours it forwards to his house.”
It did exactly that. Vantresca answered. He sounded all squared away. He sounded crisp, and alert, and cheerful. And corporate. He said, “Vantresca Security, how may I help you?”
Reacher said, “Guy, this is Reacher. The MP. Abby and I got your number from a directory. On that thing everyone talks about.”
“The internet?”
“That’s it. But this is not official, OK? Not for the after-action report.”
“OK.”
“Also it’s a shoot-first kind of thing. Just do it, right now, and ask questions later.”
“Do what right now?”
“Go check your pal Joe Hogan is OK. And Frank Barton.”
“Why wouldn’t they be?”
“I said questions later.”
“That one now.”
“The Albanians may be close to confirming where we were last night. May already have confirmed. Hogan and Barton aren’t answering their phones. We hope because they’re asleep.”
“OK, on my way.”
“Get them out of there, even if they’re OK so far. Could go south anytime.”
“Where will they go?”
“They can go crash at my house,” Abby said. “No one is watching it anymore.”
“How long do they need to be gone?”
“A day,” Reacher said. “That seems to be the way the wind is blowing. No need to pack a big suitcase.”
Vantresca clicked off. Abby put her phone away. Reacher redistributed the things in his pockets, to balance his load. Abby buttoned her coat. They set out walking. A small woman and a big man. Broad daylight. Eyes everywhere.
* * *
—
Gregory had said he would go talk to Dino again, first thing in the morning, and what Gregory said, Gregory meant. He got up early, and dressed the same way he had before, on his previous visit. Tight pants, tight shirt. Nothing to hide. No gun, no knife, no wire, no bomb. Necessary, but not comfortable. The dawn air was too cold for single layers. He waited for a little warmth, and until there were shadows. He wanted daylight hours to be visibly underway. It was a matter of presentation. He was a man of energy and vigor, as fresh as the new day, taking charge, taking action, bright and early. Not a mistimed nightcrawler coming in out of the gloom.
Once again he drove to the garage on Center Street. Then he walked. Once again he was followed all the way. Once again calls were made ahead. When he got where he was going he found the same six figures, in the same half circle between the sidewalk and the lumber yard’s gate. Like chess pieces. The same defensive formation.
Once again one of the six figures stepped up. It was Jetmir. Once again partly a blocking maneuver, and partly ready to listen.
Gregory told him, “I need to speak with Dino.”
Jetmir asked, “Why?”
“I have a proposal.”
“What kind?”
“At this point it’s for his ears only.”
“On what general subject?”
“A matter of urgent mutual interest.”
“Mutual,” Jetmir said. “A concept in short supply recently.”
An impertinence, given their disparity in rank. Only one step apart, but it was the biggest step of all.
But Gregory didn’t react.
He said, “I believe