mistakes came home to haunt me. When my mother died, they could have cut me off, but they just didn't. They still both treat me exactly right, all the way, very loving, very generous, very fair and equal, and the more they do, the more I feel really guilty for calling myself a Cinderella at the beginning."
Reacher said nothing.
"You think I'm being irrational again," she said.
He said nothing. She drove on, eyes fixed on the windshield.
"Cinderella," she said. "Although you'd probably call me the ugly sister."
He made no reply to that. Just watched the road.
"Whatever, did you warn her?" he asked again.
She glanced sideways at him and he saw her haul herself back to the present.
"Yes, of course I warned her," she said. "Soon as Cooke made the pattern clear, I've called her over and over again. She should be safe enough. She spends a lot of time at the hospital with her father, and when she's at home I've told her not to let anybody through the door. Nobody at all, not anybody, no matter who they are."
"She pay attention?"
"I made sure she did."
He nodded. "OK, she's safe enough. Only eighty-seven others to worry about."
AFTER NEW JERSEY came eighty miles of Maryland, which took an hour and twenty minutes to cover. It was raining again, prematurely dark. Then they skirted the District of Columbia and entered Virginia and settled in for the final forty miles of I-95, all the way down to Quantico. The buildings of the city receded behind them and gentle forest built ahead. The rain stopped. The sky lightened. Lamarr cruised fast and then slowed suddenly and turned off the highway onto an unmarked road winding through the trees. The surface was good, but the curves were tight. After a half-mile, there was a neat clearing with parked military vehicles and huts painted dark green.
"Marines," she said. "They gave us sixty acres of land for our place."
He smiled. "That's not how they see it. They figure you stole it."
More curves, another half-mile, and there was another clearing. Same vehicles, same huts, same green paint.
"Camouflage basecoat," Reacher said.
She nodded. "Creepy."
More curves, two more clearings, altogether two miles deep into the woods. Reacher sat forward and paid attention. He had never been to Quantico before. He was curious. The car rounded a tight bend and came clear of the trees and stopped short at a checkpoint barrier. There was a red-and-white striped pole across the roadway and a sentry's hutch made from bullet-proof glass. An armed guard stepped forward. Over his shoulder in the distance was a long, low huddle of honey stone buildings. A couple of squat high-rises standing among them. The buildings crouched alone on undulating lawns. The lawns were immaculate and the way the low buildings spread into them meant their architect hadn't been worried about consuming space. The place looked very peaceful, like a minor college campus or a corporate headquarters, except for the razor-wire perimeter and the armed guard.
Lamarr had the window down and was rooting in her purse for ID. The guy clearly knew who she was, but rules are rules and he needed to see her plastic. He nodded as soon as her hand came clear of the bag. Then he switched his gaze across to Reacher.
"You should have paperwork on him," Lamarr said.
The guy nodded again. "Yeah, Mr. Blake took care of it."
He ducked back to his hutch and came out with a laminated plastic tag on a chain. He handed it through the window and Lamarr passed it on. It had Reacher's name and his old service photograph on it. The whole thing was overprinted with a pale red V.
"V for visitor," Lamarr said. "You wear it at all times."
"Or?" Reacher asked.
"Or you get shot. And I'm not kidding."
The guard was back in his hutch, raising the barrier. Lamarr buzzed her window up and accelerated through. The road climbed the undulations and revealed parking lots in the dips. Reacher could hear gunfire. The flat bark of heavy handguns, maybe two hundred yards away in the trees.
"Target practice," Lamarr said. "Goes on all the time."
She was bright and alert. Like proximity to the mother ship was reviving her. Reacher could see how that could happen. The whole place was impressive. It nestled in a natural bowl, deep in the forest, miles away from anywhere. It felt isolated and secret. Easy to see how it could breed a fierce, loyal spirit in the people fortunate enough to be admitted to it.
Lamarr