Page 77 of Exit Strategy
The guard with the cigarette said, ‘The hell are you talking about?’
Reacher said, ‘Hey. Stay calm. This is just business. There’s no room for emotion. There’s been a change in structure, is all. Strickland has brought Gilmour and me on board now, the same way Hewson brought you guys on. So the question is, can we cut a deal we’re all happy with? Or do we need to find a way to reduce head count?’
The guy took a step toward the door. Reacher moved to block him off. The guy said, ‘I want to speak to the boss. He needs to sort this shit out.’
‘All he needs is a number. A percentage. So what’s it going to be?’
‘The number’s zero percent. We’re not splitting dick with you asshats. If Strickland wants to get you involved, it’s coming out of his end. Not ours.’
‘So there is something to split.’ Reacher took out his gun. ‘Thank you. That’s all I needed to know.’
FORTY-THREE
Reacher and Gilmour changed into their own clothes while Taylor collected the rental car from the parking area and drove it up to the main entrance.
Reacher used Hewson’s phone to call 911 and report an accident at the mine. He didn’t care too much about what happened to Strickland’s remains, or Hewson’s, or the guards’, but he figured there were twenty-five other families out there who deserved some kind of closure.
Gilmour used his own phone to call Patten and give her a summary of the things that had happened since she’d visited the coffee shop the day before. When he was done, she said, ‘So it’s over?’
Gilmour said, ‘It is.’
‘Really over this time?’
‘Really over.’
‘I still don’t feel relieved.’
‘Me neither.’
‘Got any plans for tonight?’
‘No.’
‘Does Reacher?’
‘Hold on.’ Gilmour looked around, then said, ‘I was going to ask, but I can’t see him. He was here a minute ago.’
‘Want to come to my place? I’ll order takeout. Not Thai this time. And not so much wine.’
‘Sounds good.’
‘Great. Bring Reacher if he’s up for it.’
‘Will do. See you later.’
Gilmour hung up and saw that Kasselwood and Taylor were already in the car. Vardanyan was sandwiched between them in the back seat. Gilmour strolled over, opened the door, and said, ‘Where’s Reacher?’
Kasselwood said, ‘You missed him.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He left.’ She gestured to the dirt road. ‘While you were on the phone. He said he wanted to walk. But he left this for you.’ She lifted Strickland’s go bag out of the footwell and handed it to him. ‘He said you’d know what to do with it.’
Gilmour moved to a spot where he could get a clear view down the road. There wasn’t much to see. Just a plume of dust maybe half a mile in the distance, moving steadily away like it was being blown by a strong wind. He pulled out his binoculars and took a closer look. He picked out a figure in the center of the cloud. It wasReacher. Even from behind, and at that kind of distance, his size gave him away. He had nothing in his hands. He was covering the ground fast, but not hurrying. It was the kind of pace he could keep up all day, Gilmour guessed. He watched him for another two minutes. Three. And not once did Reacher look back.
The next bus scheduled to leave Baltimore after Reacher walked into the Greyhound station that afternoon was headed to Salt Lake City, fifty-five minutes later. He went inside and bought a ticket and a cup of coffee. Then he took a seat in the waiting area.
The bus showed up dead on time. Reacher tossed his cup in the trash and made his way to the designated stand. A couple got off. No one else was waiting to get on. Reacher was twenty feet from its door when he heard footsteps behind him, moving fast. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Gilmour running toward him. He slowed to let him catch up, then nodded toward the bus. He said, ‘Whatever you want, make it quick.’
