The Sentinel (Jack Reacher #25)(77)



Rutherford jumped off the bed and picked up a pair of the extra servers they had brought from the protection guy’s unit at Norm’s. ‘Sarah, what are you waiting for? Help me. We need two more power outlets over here.’

It took Rutherford ten minutes to get the extra servers fixed up the way he wanted them. Reacher used the time to call a number Agent Fisher had given him for Wallwork in case of emergencies or breakthroughs. He figured this qualified. Wallwork answered on the first ring and Reacher cut straight to the chase: the server had been found; the data was intact. Wallwork was all business in return. No thanks. No congratulations. Just a pair of rapid-fire questions: where are you, and how soon can we meet. Reacher told Wallwork to be in the vicinity of the truck stop in one hour, and that he would call back shortly with a precise location.

Reacher excused himself and hurried to the office. He rapped on the counter. The long-haired kid appeared. This time he looked surprised and worried. He no doubt had visions of the balance of his thousand in cash evaporating before it ever saw the inside of his pocket.

‘Let’s talk about your room rates again,’ Reacher said. ‘Your standard is ninety-five dollars a day. Which works out to about four bucks an hour. So if I wanted another room for two hours, no questions asked, no records kept, how much would that cost me?’

‘Fifty bucks. Cash. Up front.’

‘What’s your name, son?’

‘Carmichael.’

‘Well, Carmichael, I believe in the illustrative power of stories. Do you?’

‘I guess.’

‘Take the man who killed the golden goose as an example. Have you heard that one?’

‘Forty bucks. I can’t go any lower. I’ll have to split the dough with the housekeeper, remember.’

‘That won’t be necessary. I won’t make any mess. I won’t even sit on the bed.’

‘What do you even want the room for, then?’

Reacher said nothing.

‘Thirty bucks,’ Carmichael offered.

Reacher said nothing.

‘Twenty.’

‘That’s better.’ Reacher took two tens out of his pocket. ‘Pass me a key. And make sure it’s in the same section as the other two. Near them. But not adjacent.’

Reacher stepped outside and called Wallwork back. He gave him the motel’s name and address and specified room fourteen for their meeting. Then he returned to room eighteen. Sands was sitting in the armchair. Reacher smiled at her and lay down on one of the beds.

‘Your pizza will be cold,’ Sands said after a few moments of silence. ‘Want me to go to the office? Heat it up for you?’

‘No thanks,’ Reacher said. ‘Cold pizza doesn’t bother me. Unless you want to heat yours?’

‘Cold pizza doesn’t bother me, either. And anyway, I ate while you were gone.’

Reacher took a bite. Sands smiled.

‘Cold pizza,’ she said. ‘Cheap motel. It’s like I’m back at the Bureau.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘I don’t miss the backache from all the crappy mattresses I had to sleep on when I was on the road. That’s for sure. But hearing you talk about the agent you met. What she’s doing. Protecting our elections. Stopping the Russians’ sabotage. Things like that, they make you think.’

‘Did you work undercover much?’

‘No. A few sting ops when they needed someone who could talk the talk. Other than that I was too specialized. Spent most of my time getting loaned out to different field offices. Wherever they had a cyber crime problem. Same shit, different desk. Staring at a screen.’

‘Is that why you left?’

‘No. It wasn’t the work. I actually enjoyed that. But as the years rolled by I came to realize, as much as I liked it there, the FBI was never going to give me what I want in life.’

‘Which is what? Your own corporation?’

She shook her head. ‘No. That’s just a means to an end. A way to generate more cash. Which is why Cerberus is so important. If it pays off big enough, I’ll be one and done. See you. And goodbye.’

‘What do you need the cash for?’

‘I can’t tell you. You’ll laugh at me.’

‘Try me.’

Sands closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘I want to have enough in the bank that I can quit working. Sell my home. And most of my stuff. And buy a houseboat.’ She opened her eyes. ‘You think I’m crazy, right?’

‘That depends,’ Reacher said. ‘This houseboat. Would you keep it moored in one place?’

‘Of course not. That would defeat the whole purpose. I’d go where I want. When I want.’

‘I’m the last person in the world who would think the freedom to move around is crazy. I’d say it was essential.’

Reacher was about to add that he was less enthusiastic about the idea of swapping a home on dry land for one floating in the water. He had never been personally involved with a boat, but it struck him that owning one could be even more problematic than a regular house. Aside from being able to move, it would have all the same disadvantages. There would be repairs to make. Maintenance schedules to follow. All kinds of expenses to meet. And on top of those it might sink. It might get run into by a bigger boat. It might grow barnacles. Who knew what other pitfalls there could be. But before he could speak again the connecting door opened and Rutherford appeared.

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