Page 31 of Exit Strategy
A woman’s voice replied, ‘It’s Mia. And Mick. And Norman.’
‘Get in here now. All of you.’
The door opened and a woman walked in, followed by two men. The woman, Mia, was wearing a shoulder-lengthblack wig. One of the men, Mick, had a bandage wrapped around his head. The other, Norman, had one arm in a sling. Kelleher gestured to the pair of leather armchairs at the side of his shabby rug. The men sat. Mia hung back, then perched on the arm of the chair that was farthest from the desk. She said, ‘What do you need from us?’
Kelleher said, ‘Ideas. The ape who jumped you all in the alley? Do you know the trouble he’s causing? I need to make an example out of him. Fast. But out of my go-to guys, one is dead, one’s in witness protection, and the others are in jail or on the lam. So I need you to think about who you know. I want someone who’s filthy. Nasty. No – disgusting. I want someone who makes your scrotum shrivel when you think of his name.’
Mick and Norman shifted in their seats.
Kelleher said, ‘That’s not all. They need to be dependable. And available. And I don’t care how much they cost.’
The men swapped glances. They had never known their boss to not care about the bottom line before.
Kelleher said, ‘Well? Talk to me.’
Mick said, ‘What about the bike chain brothers? I thought you were sending them last night.’
Kelleher’s top lip curled into a sneer. He said, ‘Those pussies are about as useful as an ashtray on a Harley. And do you think I’d be asking you now if they’d already gotten the job done?’
There was silence for a moment, then Norman said, ‘If you want the asshole to disappear, I know a good guy. Very creative.’
Kelleher slammed his palm down. ‘Did I say I wanted to disappear him? No. What good would that do? No oneknows this guy. If he drops off the radar right away, even people who’ve heard of him would forget him in twenty minutes. I need a visual reminder. Something long-lasting. I want pictures in the papers. On TV. Online. Maybe of him in the hospital. With tubes sticking out of every orifice. Or him staggering around on crutches, then falling on his face in a pile of dogshit. Or sleeping in Saks’s doorway, soaked in piss, unable to walk. Get it?’
There was silence again, for longer this time, then Mia said, ‘What if he winds up in a wheelchair? Permanently?’
Kelleher said, ‘Go on.’
‘I know a couple of guys. I’ve seen them work. And I tell you, if I had a scrotum, it wouldn’t have shriveled. It would have turned itself inside out and fallen off.’
‘A couple of guys? Is that enough?’
‘They can handle it.’
‘Are you sure? This freak got the better of the three of you. And the four brothers.’
‘With these guys it’s quality, not quantity. They have special equipment. They start out by immobilizing their … subject. They strap him down. Then they go to work with a drill. They’re thorough. They can handle him. Do you want me to call them?’
Kelleher thought for a moment, then nodded. He said, ‘Do it.’
TWENTY
Gilmour didn’t want to go back to his office and Reacher didn’t want to waste time in traffic driving to either of Gilmour’s apartments, so they wound up at the coffee shop where they’d first crossed paths the day before. The location was convenient. It was full of witnesses, which set Gilmour’s mind at ease. And there was a good supply of caffeine, which made Reacher happy. They took the table next to the one they had both used previously, as it was larger and almost as well positioned. Gilmour ordered a decaf cappuccino. Reacher, his regular straight black. Gilmour used some kind of back-door hack he’d learned in training at Fort Huachuca to unlock Sabrina Patten’s phone. Reacher scooped up another abandoned newspaper from a nearby table. Gilmour started in on Patten’s emails. Reacher picked up on another article about the situationin Armenia, where the US contractor was massing its operators near the border. It had evolved into an ongoing saga.Countdown to Conflict, some hack had named it. This installment included a series of maps. Reacher liked maps. These charted the changing fortunes of a region called Nagorno-Karabakh in the Arabian Peninsula, going right back to the fall of the Russian Empire. The region had been claimed by each of two new states, Armenia and Azerbaijan; fought over; absorbed into the Soviet Union; and fought over again after the Iron Curtain collapsed. It had claimed independence in 1991, but then it had been invaded by Azerbaijan in 2020. And that lay at the heart of the current problem. The group accused of helping Iran wanted its independence back. Reacher could sympathize.
Gilmour leaned over and nudged Reacher right as he was finishing the article.
Reacher said, ‘Did you find something?’
‘Not yet. But my buddy just replied to my email. He’s taken a look at the screenshot. He says the combinations of keywords are totally consistent with the cover for some kind of black op.’
‘Run by the CIA? Or a contractor?’
‘He can’t say. Could be either.’
Reacher thought for a moment. ‘Ask him who we should warn about the planned theft. I’m guessing it’s outside a 911 operator’s comfort zone.’
Gilmour rattled out a message and a reply came back almost immediately. ‘He says don’t warn anyone. Leave the whole thing well alone.’
‘Really?’
