The Sentinel (Jack Reacher #25) - Lee Child Page 0,9

his surroundings. Not paying attention. Not looking for store entrances. Not checking the traffic.

The west-end guy was around five feet ten. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt and cargo pants. His hair was buzzed short and he had an earpiece like the kind Reacher had seen business people use. The east-end guy was the same kind of size. He had the same clothes. The same hair. The same earpiece. The woman on the other side of the alley was also wearing black but her clothes were more fitted and her hair wasn’t buzzed. It was long and red and she had it tied back in a ponytail.

The west-end guy peeled away from his window and started walking. Heading east. Fifteen feet behind Rutherford. Moving with loose, rangy ease. He was clearly having to shorten his stride to avoid overtaking his mark. Ahead of them a woman had stopped at the edge of the sidewalk to tend to a child in a stroller. Beyond her a couple stood, talking. They were dressed for the gym. Just regular folks. Not part of the pattern. Unaware of what was happening.

The envelope was down to a hundred feet.

The east-end guy touched his earpiece. A moment later a car appeared in the mouth of the alley. It had rolled forward from somewhere deep in the shadows. An anonymous sedan. A Toyota. Dark blue. Reacher saw it move rather than heard it. A hybrid in fully electric mode, he thought. A smart choice of vehicle. Too bad the 110th hadn’t had them back in the day.

The envelope was down to eighty feet. Reacher stepped on to the sidewalk.

Rutherford approached the woman with the stroller. She stood up as he drew level. Her kid threw his teddy bear on to the ground. Rutherford leaned down and retrieved it. Maybe Rutherford wasn’t as clueless as he appeared. It was a perfect manoeuvre to check the sidewalk behind him. Maybe Rutherford knew he was being followed, after all. Then Reacher’s optimism evaporated. Rutherford’s eyes were only on the kid. He held out the toy. The woman snatched it away, glaring furiously. Rutherford continued walking.

The envelope was down to sixty feet. Reacher changed course. Started heading east. Thirty feet behind the western guy.

The couple in gym clothes moved away from the wall. Their body language had hardened. Their conversation must have turned sour. The man strode forward, leading with his shoulder. He slammed into Rutherford, spilling his coffee. His partner caught up. She grabbed his arm and pulled him away, shaking her head and scowling.

‘Hey!’ Rutherford said. He didn’t get a response.

Turn around, Reacher thought. Ignore the gym rats. Notice the guy who’s pursuing you.

Rutherford didn’t turn around. He carried on walking.

The envelope was down to forty feet. Another twenty feet between Reacher and the western guy.

It was obvious what was going to happen next. Reacher could see it as clearly as if a skywriter had spelled it out with white smoke. The car would roll a little further forward so that its rear door was level with the sidewalk. The eastern guy would open it. The western guy would push Rutherford inside and jump in himself. The woman would get in on the other side. The eastern guy would take the passenger seat. And they’d drive away. Less than five seconds for the whole operation, if they did it right. And it would be silent. No muss, no fuss. No one would see a thing.

The envelope was twenty feet. Ten feet between Reacher and the western guy. Decision time.

It was four against one, now. Maybe five or six against one if they had a mobile backup. Not the kind of odds to bother Reacher. But Reacher was not their target.

The car moved up, right on cue. Rutherford stopped, thinking nothing of it. Just an impatient driver taking a short cut through the alley. He took a sip of coffee, waiting for the car to pull away. It stayed put. The eastern guy opened the back door and held it. The other quickened his pace. He stretched out. His left hand cupped the top of Rutherford’s head. His right grabbed Rutherford’s elbow. He started to steer him towards the back seat. But he was too slow. All he wound up pushing was empty air.

The envelope was zero feet. Reacher was level with the western guy, on his left-hand side. He took hold of Rutherford’s collar. Stuck his right arm across the western guy’s chest like a steel barrier. Pivoted