"Bang bang bang!" A burst of gunfire erupted from upstairs, and the two men guarding the entrance of the "motel" instinctively rushed toward the door.
The one in front had just pushed it open when he froze, stiff as a board, then slowly backed away. His partner, a bit quicker on the uptake, realized something was wrong—the man in front had a shotgun barrel pressed to his forehead. He spun on his heel and dashed toward their black sedan.
Just then, headlights blazed on. The only two parked cars in the lot roared to life, one in front and one behind the black sedan, blocking its path. From both vehicles, dark muzzles extended from the windows and leveled on the fleeing man, who immediately dropped his gun and fell to his knees.
Far away, out of view, Jack's rifle stayed trained on the street as Aubrey nervously scanned the area through night vision, watching for any vehicles trying to slip away.
"Nice work, boys," Jack said, tapping his earpiece to signal wrap-up once he was sure no one had slipped through.
——
"BANG!" A 10mm round—more than enough to drop a wild boar—exploded from Reacher's pistol at point-blank range. The target's forearm shattered, both the radius and ulna reduced to pulp, with only flesh and tendon barely holding the hand in place.
The gunshot echoed far into the night. But this was an isolated coastal stretch, no houses within 200 meters, and even if someone called 911, chances were the dispatcher was already "on the scene" as part of the "crowd."
Danny stood among a group of FBI agents, eyes darting uneasily. Sure, he'd once gone with Jack to bury someone alive as a scare tactic, but this—this was a real, full-on execution.
"Ahhh—!" The wounded man screamed, clutching his ruined arm and writhing in pain on the ground. His accomplice, who had tried to run, was now frozen, sweat pouring down his face as Reacher's gun turned toward him.
"You wanna know something?" the man stammered, squeezing his knees together like he might wet himself. "Ask me! I'll talk!"
Reacher didn't say a word. Instead, he pulled a stack of photos from his pocket and tossed them on the ground. They landed at his feet—security ID headshots of New Era Tech's entire security management team.
"You're all that's left, huh?" Reacher said coldly. "Langston's cleared out every other rat he trusted, so now he sends you ex-cop scumbags to clean up the mess? You must know when and where he's meeting the buyer—don't you, Grant?"
The man's face turned ghostly pale—his own ID photo was right there in the pile.
"Tomorrow morning—5 a.m.! I swear I don't know the location! Langston only tells us what we need to know! That's all I know—please, don't kill me!" Grant's voice trembled so hard it barely made sense.
"Bang! Bang!" Reacher fired two shots right by his ears, the bullets slamming into the concrete steps and showering Grant's face with debris. He screamed as shards tore into his cheek, blood and dust covering half his face.
"What else?"
"Langston's not at HQ—he's holed up at a research site in Rockland County! I swear to God, that's all I know! Don't ki—"
"Bang bang bang!" Reacher emptied the magazine, executing both Grant and the still-whimpering other man.
Jubal, watching from nearby, glanced at Jack, who didn't even flinch—he had clearly expected this and gave no reaction.
Jubal gave up trying to object. He'd been in the loop from the start—even Jack's plan to drag a certain senator down with DHS's help. This case was different. The fewer witnesses, the better.
He also understood—Reacher wasn't a sadist. He was avenging the teammates who'd been brutally killed. If it were him, he'd have done the same.
——
Clunk. Jack dumped a large bucket of water and a mop at Reacher's feet, grumbling bitterly. "Come on, man. This is an FBI office, not some backwoods killing ground. Try not to turn it into a damn crime scene."
Reacher, clearly guilty, said nothing and grabbed the mop.
"Five hours till the deal. What's your plan?" Jack asked, arms folded, leaning against the stair rail as he watched Reacher scrub blood off the rear steps where the interrogation had taken place.
The rest of the task force was retrieving body bags from the trunk of Danny's unmarked police car. The two bodies from upstairs had already been brought down—just the two in the backyard left to clean up.
"I'm going to meet Langston—alone," Reacher said.
Everyone froze, staring at him like he was out of his mind.
"Are you insane? He'll kill you on sight!" Dixon grabbed him by the collar.
Reacher calmly folded his massive hands over hers. "He won't—as long as none of you come with me. He won't dare make a move."
"For Swann?" Jack guessed.
"Yes," Reacher nodded. "Swann might still be alive."
The room went quiet. Even the normally loud special investigators had nothing to say.
Jack hesitated, trying one last time. "You know Langston doesn't leave loose ends. The fact that he hasn't used Swann to threaten you yet probably means he's already dead."
"But you never found a body, did you?" Reacher gave a tired smile. "As long as there's even a sliver of hope, I won't abandon my teammate. I was their major, after all."
Even the FBI agents—hardened as they were—were moved by those words.
He was willing to risk his life for a sliver of hope. In this day and age, who still believed in something that much?
"Okay," Jack sighed. "Then let's plan this right. No way we're sending you in barehanded to take out everyone inside." He poured a bucket of bleach onto the steps and grabbed a second mop to help with the cleanup.
——
"This is bad," Jubal muttered, spreading a satellite photo across the SUV's hood. He circled a large industrial facility. "If we don't call in a SWAT team, we may not have enough manpower."
The group had driven from Long Island to the research site in Rockland County in just forty minutes. But the moment they saw the compound surrounded by fences and electric barriers, their confidence took a nosedive.
The 12-person team—including Danny and Alice, who provided tech support—had arrived in the task force's mobile command van and two GMC SUVs, fully armed and ready to roll.
With Alice staying in the van and Reacher planning to go in alone, the remaining ten should've been more than enough to form two or three strike teams.
But no one expected the place to be so heavily fortified.
Just from a visual scan, they could already count over ten armed guards.
And this was supposed to be just a "research facility."
______
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