Chapter 33

They were closer to the south exit from the park than where they'd come in so Reacher and Knight hustled along the nearest path, which led diagonally to Arsenal Street. Knight used her phone to call an Uber. A car arrived after three minutes. A silver Toyota Camry. The driver was maybe twenty-five. He was from The Gambia and he talked incessantly about trees. His dream was one day to return home with seeds from every species of tree in the United States and plant a whole new forest. Good luck with that, Reacher thought.

While the driver talked, Knight switched apps and bought plane tickets to Fort Lauderdale. Reacher paid her back in cash. A lot of cash. First class, one way, last minute. They were every airline's dream customers that day.

At the airport Knight led the way to the airline's check-in desk and had the agent print paper boarding passes for them both. She didn't need one but Reacher had no phone and she didn't want to draw attention to the fact. He had enough strikes against him when it came to security screening.

Knight breezed through pre-check security and went in search of coffee. Reacher dragged through the regular line. When the TSA guy saw Reacher's expired passport he raised an eyebrow but he knew the rule and waved him through. Reacher caught up with Knight and grabbed a large cup of coffee for himself. Then they made their way to the gate and waited for boarding to begin. Reacher had forgotten how much he disliked airports. There were people everywhere, milling around, stopping for no reason, dawdling aimlessly, dragging unwieldy suitcases. He suspected that if hell exists, it resembles an eternal trek through a departure hall.

Reacher's pass said he was in boarding group one but four other categories of customers were called before him, which offended his sense of order. Things looked up once he was on board. He had a window seat with sufficient legroom, and once they were airborne the flight attendant brought him regular refills of coffee without needing to be asked.

Knight fell asleep but Reacher used the two and a half hours they were in the air to think. He was basing a lot on one slip from Devine. Her mention of the Department of Energy. He ran back over his conclusion that the Cone Dynamics report was connected to nuclear weapons. He had no reason to believe he was wrong. But no evidence that he was right. That seemed appropriate, in a way. Nuclear weapons always seem to conjure fear and paranoia in people. The rational part of Reacher's brain found that hard to understand. Only two had ever been used in anger. Fewer people had been killed by both of them combined than had died in many fire bombings during World War II. Or had starved and frozen in Leningrad. Or had been murdered after the siege of Nanjing. Or starved in Stalin's famines. He figured the reaction came from the unknown. The danger of dying, years later, of some hideous disease you had no idea you were incubating.

Reacher didn't share that fear, but he did feel some unease. For him it came down to the risk of human error. And the consequences. There weren't just two bombs now. There were vast arsenals, capable of destroying the world many times over. And they were only a hiccup in an early warning system away from doing just that. Or a tired eye mistaking a blip on a screen somewhere. He thought about all the near misses he'd read about. A Soviet guy named Petrov who had suppressed an early warning report because his gut told him it was false. A miscalibrated upgrade to a radar system that made flocks of birds look like missiles in flight. And error wasn't the only danger. There was foul play. The Rosenbergs. And after them, the guy who stole the design for a centrifuge that could refine uranium, which doubled the number of nations with nuclear capability. He thought about Vidic, the rogue agent with secrets to sell, and wondered if he'd be remembered in the same way.

—

Knight woke up as the plane started its descent. She switched her phone off airplane mode the moment the wheels touched the ground and checked for texts or voicemails. There was nothing.

Reacher spotted a cluster of empty seats near a gate that was out of service. He steered Knight toward it, borrowed her phone, and tried Wallwork. Again he got no reply.

Knight said, "I hate this not knowing. Should we get a hotel? Or go straight to the hangar?"

Reacher said, "Hangar."

Knight led the way along another long corridor. They slalomed around the slower-moving travelers and dodged the knots of people spilling out of the little stores and cafés and bars that lined the route. They passed a sign warning them that they were leaving the secure zone, then started down an escalator. It was a long one and it moved slowly. Reacher could see a series of baggage carousels stretching out along the hall at its base and a wall of glass to its right with doors every few yards that led out to an access road.

Reacher had to push his way through a gaggle of people at the bottom of the escalator. They were hanging around a stationary carousel. A monitor suspended above it flashed a message warning passengers to check luggage carefully before removing it in case they were taking someone else's.

Reacher said, "Does that really happen? Surely people know what their luggage looks like."

Knight said, "It happens all the time. A lot of bags look similar. Some are identical. That's why some people attach colored straps, or bright ribbons. To make their things easier to identify. Plus people could be tired after a long flight. Or stupid. Or careless."

Reacher shrugged. It seemed to him like another reason to avoid getting bogged down by possessions.

—

They continued past the last carousel, looking for signs for the taxi area, and Knight's phone rang. It was Wallwork. Reacher answered.

Wallwork said, "Got a hit. John Austin is due into Fort Lauderdale from Indianapolis in thirty-five minutes." He paused, then read out a flight number.

Reacher thanked him, then took Knight's arm to stop her. They moved to the side and Reacher dialed Devine's number. This time she answered with a curt "Yes?"

Reacher said, "Did you show Gibson's picture to Albatross's handler?"

Devine took a moment, then said, "I did."

"So you know."

"I know. And I'm not happy."

"I didn't think you would be. Did you deploy to Fort Lauderdale?"

"I'm not at liberty to—"

"So, no. Why not?"

"The justification was too thin. And thanks to you I'm standing in the path of a category 5 shitstorm."

"I'm not to blame. You should be thanking me for finding out before things got any worse. And as for justification, Vidic will be landing in Fort Lauderdale in half an hour. Send the police, at least. Notify TSA. Airport security. Someone."

"I'll do what I can. And, Reacher? Stay clear of this. Leave now."

"Leave where?"

"The Fort Lauderdale airport. I know you're there."

—

Reacher looked around for a trash can. He said, "Time for a new phone. Devine is using this one to track us."

Knight said, "What's the point? Are you going to buy another one every time you need to call her? Are you ever going to buy one?"

Reacher didn't reply.

Knight grabbed the handset from him and said, "Give that to me. I need to buy more plane tickets. Whatever's the cheapest, just to get us air-side. To see what happens with Vidic. Watch Kane get arrested. And if no one else is there to do that…"

They had drawn level with the last carousel and Reacher was watching a lone suitcase rattle slowly around the oval track.

Knight said, "How did Devine seem? Is she going to do anything down here?"

Reacher said, "They know they have a major PR disaster on their hands. That means people will fall into two groups. Those who will roll up their sleeves and try to fix the problem. And those who willdo whatever it takes to shift the blame onto someone else. I think Devine will roll up her sleeves, given the chance. But she's not in for an easy ride."

"I guess not. A couple of dirty cops came to light while I've been at the department. No work got done for weeks afterward. It was a festival of ass covering, both times. No reason to assume it's any different at the Bureau."

"We'll soon know. If she can pull the right levers, Vidic and the others won't even make it off the plane. They'll have all the passengers stay in their seats after the plane has landed, then send in the local police. Maybe Homeland Security if they have anyone close enough."

Knight looked away. Reacher thought she looked disappointed at the prospect.

The suitcase continued to circle the carousel.

Reacher said, "What's up with that? Could someone have forgotten to collect it? Left the airport without picking it up?"

Knight said, "Obviously. Why do you think they have left-luggage offices? Anyway, who cares about some dumb suitcase?"

Reacher did, for a reason he couldn't quite put his finger on. He said, "Anyone could pick it up now, right? I could."

"I thought you were anti-belongings. Why would you need a suitcase? You don't have anything to put in it."

"What about the other carousels?" Reacher pointed to the next in the line. People were swarming all around it and the belt was jammed with bags and suitcases of all sizes and colors. "What's to stop me taking that silver one, right there?"

"Maybe the owner? Or airport security. Come on. Focus. We have to get air-side. Find Vidic's gate before his plane lands. So enough with the questions. Back to security. There could be a line."

"You go. I'm staying here."

"What the…Why?"

"Bizarre idea. I'll explain later if it pans out. Rendezvous here if we both strike out. Otherwise, at whatever hotel is closest to the airport."

Knight checked her phone and said, "There's a Courtyard not far away."

"Good as any, I guess. Good hunting."

—

Reacher stationed himself near the baggage reclaim monitor and waited for Vidic's flight number to join the list. After half an hour he saw it, next to carousel 4. That was the carousel to his left. He checked the area around it. What he saw was not encouraging. There was no effective cover anywhere in the vicinity, other than a bunch of people, and Reacher was not built to blend into a crowd. He kept looking and spotted three yellow janitor's carts lined up in an alcove next to an accessible bathroom. One of them had a yellow bib hanging from a broom handle. Reacher strolled across to the wall. He glanced around. He saw no sign of any janitors so he stepped in closer, took the bib, and slipped it on. There was no way it was going to fasten around his chest, but he figured that wouldn't matter. He had the perfect disguise. Everyone would look at him but no one would see him. He could be wherever he needed to be. He released the cart's wheel lock and pushed it slowly to the far side of carousel5. It wasn't moving. No one was waiting nearby so Reacher took a sweeper on a long handle from its holder at the side of the cart and began to make his way forward and then back, gathering litter as he went, all the time keeping carousel 4 in his sight.

As Reacher swept the floor the crowd around carousel4 steadily grew. Soon it was two or three deep in places. Reacher scanned the faces methodically, left to right, front to back. And spotted Vidic. He was wearing a Pirates ball cap and had done something to his face to alter its contours. He had stuffed his cheeks with cotton wool, Reacher thought. Vidic had done the same kind of thing with his stomach. Rather than tall but stooped, he looked paunchy and squat.

A klaxon sounded and the belt began to move. A suitcase appeared at the top of a ramp in the raised center section, like the top tier of a wedding cake. It slid down and joined the main ramp. It was made of ribbed aluminum and all kinds of bright stickers were plastered over its surface. A guy stepped forward and grabbed it. Vidic took out his phone. He did something to its screen then held it low down by his side. A bunch of other bags tumbled down. Some were claimed right away. Others made their way around the circuit, ignored by everyone who was waiting. A couple were grabbed, then put back. Vidic didn't move. He made no attempt to take anything or make contact with anyone.

The stream of new cases gradually slowed. Around half the people were still waiting, including Vidic. Then a backpack appeared. It teetered at the top of the ramp for a moment, then slid down. A rainbow ribbon was tied to one of its straps and it had a Real Madrid baggage label hanging from a handle at the top. Vidic kept his arm by his side but cocked his wrist so that his phone was facing out. Reacher guessed he was taking a photograph. Vidic relaxed his wrist, lowered the phone, watched the backpack as it made a complete circuit of the carousel, then turned and threaded his way through the crowd. Reacher saw him raise the phone again as he walked. He tapped the screen a couple of times then slipped the phone into his pocket.

Reacher slotted the sweeper back into its place on the cart and slipped off the bib. He took a step in the same direction as Vidic, then stopped. He could follow Vidic, or watch the backpack he had been so interested in. Letting Vidic escape after all the trouble he'd taken to find the guy seemed massively counterintuitive. But Reacher did it, anyway. He stayed where he was and kept his eyes on the moving belt.

The backpack made another circuit. Fewer bags joined it. More were taken. No one approached it. Reacher scanned the hall around him. He spotted Knight heading down the escalator. She reached the bottom then headed straight for him. She took a spot by his side. Her shoulders were sagging and she couldn't drag her gaze up from the ground. She said, "You struck out, too? Let's hope our luck changes at the hangar."

Reacher said, "Vidic was here. Heavily disguised. I guess he slipped by you at the gate."

"Vidic was? Where is he now?"

"He left."

"And you didn't follow him? Are you crazy?"

Reacher pointed out the backpack. "Vidic waited till he saw that bag. He sent a picture of it to someone."

"Why would he do that? And why did you stay here? What's wrong with you?"

"Watch this."

A man had stepped forward. He was around six-two and was wearing a blue pin-striped suit and smart black shoes. He had blond hair, cut short, and combed into a neat style. A tan leather briefcase was slung over his left shoulder. He watched the backpack as it approached, glanced around, then picked it up and walked away.

—

This time Reacher did follow. Knight kept pace at his side. The guy in the suit was making for the escalator. He stepped onto it. Stood politely to the side until he reached the top. Then he turned left and started across an enclosed bridge that led to a multistory parking garage. At the far end the space opened out into a square lobby to accommodate a trio of payment machines as well as three doors leading to respective restrooms. The guy dodged to his left and disappeared through the center door. The accessible restroom. Reacher tried the handle. It didn't move.

"Hey," a voice said from behind the door. "Occupied."

Reacher looked at Knight and said, "Got a quarter?"

Knight pulled out her wallet, rummaged for a moment, then handed a coin to Reacher. He waited a couple of minutes then forced it into the plastic groove beneath the door handle. He turned it, releasing the lock, opened the door, and stepped inside.

The guy was sitting on the closed lid of the toilet. His phone was in his hand. He had a computer on his lap. A memory stick was attached on one side. The backpack he had taken from the carousel was lying at his feet with its main compartment unzipped. His briefcase was perched on the edge of the sink.

The guy said, "You can't come in here. This bathroom is occupied."

Reacher thought he could pick up a hint of an Eastern European accent.

The guy's phone made a whooshing sound.

Reacher closed the door behind him and said, "Who are you texting with?"

The guy said, "Leave. Now. You can't be here."

Reacher stretched out his left hand and took the phone. It made a different sound. A ping. The guy grabbed Reacher's wrist and gripped it tight. He pulled something from his suit coat pocket with his right hand. It looked like a pen until he hit the button at the top of its barrel. Then a spike shot out in place of a nib. It was three inches long, needle sharp, and made of some kind of laminate. Nothing that would raise any suspicions on an airport X-ray. The guy got to his feet, pushing with his legs to propel himself forward. His laptop slipped down and landed on the backpack, then slid onto the floor. He jabbed at Reacher's stomach. Reacher twisted his right hand around and blocked the blow with the back of his forearm. The sharpened tip bit into the dense material of his cast. A jolt of pain ran through his wrist. Reacher pivoted on his right heel and used theguy's own momentum to spin him into the wall. Reacher slipped the phone into his pocket then brought his left hand back up, driving his fist into the underside of the guy's chin. The guy rocked back onhis heels. His head smashed into the wall. He stayed upright, swaying on his feet. Reacher grabbed him by the throat. He squeezed, crushing the guy's larynx, and simultaneously lifted. The guy raised up on his toes. He couldn't breathe. He grabbed Reacher's wrist with both hands and tried to wrench it free. He failed. His eyes began to bulge. He flailed wildly with both arms. His hands were trying to grab Reacher's head. His fingers were searching for his eyes. Reacher brought his right knee up and crashed it into the guy's stomach. The remaining air was driven out of his lungs. Reacher twisted and pushed the toilet seat up with his foot. He relaxed his grip on the guy's throat. The guy slumped forward. Reacher slid his hand around to the back of his neck, pulled the guy forward, then pushed his face into the toilet bowl. He leaned down with all his weight. The guy's forehead was crushed against the porcelain. The tip of his nose was touching the water.

Reacher said, "Who do you work for? Who bought that memory stick?"

The guy pressed down against the floor with both hands. He was in good shape. Wiry rather than outright muscle, but even so he had no chance of lifting Reacher's weight.

Reacher said, "A government? A middleman? Who?"

The guy kicked and scrabbled with his feet but couldn't get any purchase.

Reacher pressed the lever with his right hand. The toilet flushed. Water flooded down, filling the bowl. The guy's head was mostly blocking the pan so the water almost overflowed. It took a good thirty seconds to work its way around the U-bend. The guy bucked and heaved and twisted but Reacher didn't let up the pressure on the back of his head.

Reacher said, "Who?"

The guy coughed and gurgled but said nothing intelligible.

"Want me to do that again? I can keep going all day."

The guy spat, then said, "Why not? Now I know I won't drown."

Reacher pressed down on the lever again. The bowl filled. The guy struggled, but less violently than before. When the water subsided he said something. Two words. Reacher didn't recognize the language but their meaning was clear. Reacher took a handful of the guy's hair, pulled him up into a kneeling position, then drove his knee into the guy's temple. The side of the guy's head smashed into the wall and he slumped down into the gap alongside the toilet bowl. Reacher dragged his body into the middle of the floor to make it easier to search him. He checked everywhere, right down to the heels of his shoes. He found a wallet with some paper money and four credit cards. An Australian passport, half full of stamps, which he guessed was a forgery. Some keys. And that was it. Nothing useful, which wasn't unexpected. Reacher checked the briefcase. Then the backpack. Neither was helpful. Finally he took the phone out of his pocket. He held it in front of the guy's face so that it unlocked, then read the conversation that unfurled on the screen. It started with a photograph of the backpack on the carousel, along with four digits. The combination for the bag's lock, Reacher guessed. It must have been sent by Vidic, although no name was displayed. Next was the guy's reply. An address. It was for the aircraft hangar at the executive airport that Wallwork had previously given as the location of the suspicious gold. Vidic had replied with a whole string of letters and numbers and symbols. A password, Reacher guessed. He memorized it, then dropped the phone and smashed it with his heel. He took the memory stick and slipped it into his pocket. Then he propped the guy's computer against the base of the wall to form a triangle with the floor and snapped it in half with the side of his foot.

When Reacher came out of the bathroom Knight had moved to the side to make it look like she was waiting for someone to finish inthe men's room. A guy in a wheelchair was in line. He saw the guyin the suit lying on the floor and said, "What the…?"

Reacher said, "Call 911. He was looking at kiddie porn on his computer. Wanted me to join in."

The guy wheeled away, fast. Reacher used Knight's quarter to relock the door from the outside then beckoned her over. He borrowed her phone and called Devine.

Devine's tone was no warmer than before. She opened with, "What?"

Reacher said, "Vidic is in Fort Lauderdale. Probably heading to a hangar at the executive airport." He gave her the address. "And send some guys to the regular airport as well. Vidic's contact is in the accessible bathroom at the end of the bridge leading to the parking garage. He slipped. Hit his head. He won't be awake for a while."