The Sentinel (Jack Reacher #25)(22)

‘I’m Marty. You’re Jack Reacher?’

Reacher nodded. ‘You can close the trunk, Marty. No luggage. Just the clothes on my back.’

This revelation didn’t make Marty appear any more enthusiastic. He shook his head, prodded a button on the edge of the trunk lid which caused it to slowly close, and stalked around to the passenger side. He opened the rear door and stood back as Reacher folded himself into the cramped space. Then he went to his side of the car and climbed in behind the wheel. He fastened his seat belt, fired up the engine, and pulled out of the lot. He turned past the front of the building, jinked left and right along a couple of streets lined with single family homes that grew larger and further apart as they went until they settled into a straight wide road with fields full of low dark green plants on either side. The position of the sun told Reacher they were heading due south.

‘Where are we going, Marty?’ Reacher shuffled across towards the centre of the back seat.

‘To the highway.’ Marty glanced at Reacher’s reflection in the mirror before his eyes darted back to the road. ‘That’s where you want to go, right?’

‘I came in on the highway.’ Reacher moved further across. ‘It’s north of town.’

‘We’re going to a different highway.’

‘Which other highway? And why?’

‘Listen. Detective Goodyear is a friend. He asked me to give someone a ride to the highway. He didn’t specify which one. This way suits me better. It’s convenient for some business I have this afternoon. What difference does it make to you, north or south? Beggars can’t be choosers. Would you rather get out and walk? In this heat?’

‘Actually, yes,’ Reacher said. ‘I like to walk. The heat doesn’t bother me. Let me out right here.’

Marty kept on driving.

‘Goodyear wanted to be sure I left town?’ Reacher said. ‘He made that clear?’

‘Right.’

‘What did he say I’d done to become so undesirable?’

‘Getting into fights. General troublemaking. Associating with undesirables. That kind of thing.’

‘And any trouble I might make in the future, he wants me to make elsewhere?’

‘Right.’

‘He didn’t figure I might make some trouble right here in your car?’

‘He figured you might try. But I was with the police department for twenty years. He knows that if you are dumb enough to try anything, I can handle it.’ Marty moved his right thigh to reveal a small pistol and a pair of worn handcuffs tucked against the raised edge of his seat.

The gun was a pointless prop, Reacher thought. There was no way he could use it. He’d need a second guy to have any chance. Someone else in the back seat. To hold the gun on Reacher and keep him penned in behind the empty passenger seat. It was impossible for Marty to do it. Not while he was driving. He couldn’t watch the road and aim behind him at the same time. He’d have to twist around. Avoid the head restraints. Fire more or less at random. In which case Reacher would just take the gun from him.

‘Think about it,’ Marty said. ‘The cops are running you out of town for a reason. You think if you were found in a ditch, full of bullets from a gun registered to a punk who died when Reagan was president, anyone would give two shits?’

‘I certainly wouldn’t be happy about it.’

‘Who cares about your happiness?’

Reacher shuffled a little further to the left. ‘Seems like we got off on the wrong foot, Marty. Let’s start again. Call a truce. How about this? I won’t cause any trouble in your car. And you come clean about where you’re taking me. And don’t say the highway because I know that’s not true.’

‘OK. Not the highway. You’re right.’

‘Then where?’

‘You’ll find out when we get there.’

‘You don’t know me very well, Marty, so I won’t hold it against you, but I’m not the kind of guy who likes vague answers. Precision is important to me. So I’m going to give you another chance. Where are you taking me?’

Marty moved his thigh again and tapped the gun with his right hand. ‘What makes you think you’re in a position to be giving out chances?’

‘During those twenty years you say you spent in the police department, did you ever notice the way squad cars had a plexiglass panel dividing the front and the back?’

‘Sure I noticed. And I didn’t like it. Those panels are bulletproof. They stopped me from shooting smartasses when I was driving them places.’

‘An understandable attitude in certain situations.’ Reacher shuffled the rest of the way across. ‘But it’s one you might want to reconsider right now.’

Reacher unfastened Marty’s seat belt and grabbed the loose section with his left hand, whipping it back and pinning the tongue against the door with his left knee. He stretched around and laid his left palm over Marty’s forehead and pulled back, clamping his head in place. Then he snaked his right arm around the seat and pressed his fist against Marty’s throat. The car swerved. Marty struggled with the wheel for a moment. Then he grabbed his gun and flailed around, pointing it backward and trying to bring it to bear on Reacher, who was pressing himself tight against the back of the driver’s seat.