17 A Wanted Man

But it was always completely unnecessary. Might as well make the second move first. If you’ve got a nine-inch blade up to the hilt in someone’s gut, does it really bother you that he’s still got 20-20 vision?’
    ‘Whatever, it was justifiable.’
    ‘I agree. No argument from me. Either way. What happened next?’
    ‘They ran for it. They didn’t like the red car. They figured either the local cops or the other group of bad guys would come looking for it. Or both. McQueen knew where I was. He always knew my whereabouts. So he drove up to Sin City, but like he didn’t really know where he was going, and he kind of pretended to spot my Chevy, and right away King agreed it would be a good car to steal.’
    ‘But they didn’t just steal it.’
    ‘They couldn’t get it open. It’s a late model. All kinds of security. They set the alarm off. I looked out the window in the ladies’ room. They were just standing there. So I figured if I went out back like I had just finished work they could rob me at gunpoint and take the key. That was what I was expecting. McQueen too, he said. Maybe a tap on the head, at worst. But King had other ideas. He didn’t want to leave a witness. So he went for the whole hijack thing. He took the cocktail waitress along for the ride. And so the act began.’
    ‘Did McQueen know the guy in the bunker?’
    ‘No. He told me he’d never seen him before.’
    ‘So you don’t know who he was either. And you weren’t getting a real-time news feed all night and all day. Not like we were. And Kansas City won’t have told you, because you’re nobody.’
    ‘Told me what?’
    Sorenson said, ‘As far as we know the dead guy was a CIA head of station.’
    Delfuenso was quiet for a moment. Then she said, ‘I need guidance on this.’ She opened her bible and took out the cell phone and the charger. She got everything plugged in. She held a button down for two long seconds. The screen lit up. With a text message already on it. All in capital letters.
    ‘Emergency,’ she said. ‘McQueen just dropped off the radar.’

SIXTY-ONE
    DELFUENSO CALLED WHATEVER secret number was stored in her phone, and she got the latest update. To say McQueen had dropped off the radar was just a figure of speech. In reality his GPS signals had disappeared off a computer screen. He was carrying two chips, one in his phone, and one sewn in the back of his belt. For seven months they had recorded his every move. Now an hour ago they had blinked off and disappeared, never to return. Both of them. Seconds apart. The likelihood of two near-simultaneous failures was so remote it wasn’t even worth considering. McQueen was in trouble.
    Reacher asked, ‘Where was he last recorded?’
    Delfuenso said, ‘At his normal location.’
    ‘Which is where?’
    ‘A Wadiah hideout.’
    ‘Which is where?’
    ‘Near Kansas City.’
    Reacher asked, ‘Do your people have a plan?’
    Delfuenso said, ‘We’re not going to involve the Kansas City boys. That was decided a long time ago. They’re walled off, as of this minute. Because they can’t help us with a problem like this. Their track record tells us they probably caused it.’
    ‘So what’s the plan?’
    ‘A SWAT team direct from Quantico.’
    ‘When?’
    ‘Rapid deployment.’
    ‘How rapid?’
    ‘They’ll be in Kansas City in eight hours.’
    ‘That’s rapid?’
    ‘It’s a big country. There’s a lot to organize.’
    ‘Eight hours is way too long.’
    ‘I know it is.’
    ‘But we’re right here. The three of us. We’re a hundred miles from Kansas City. Which is two hours. Not eight.’
    There was no discussion. Not that Reacher expected there to be. An undercover agent was down, and he figured the FBI’s unwritten codes would be at least half as strong as the army’s. Undercover was the toughest job in the world, and the only way to make it bearable was to make it so the guy in the field knew he was watched over by people who would react instantly if he ran into trouble.
    They gave themselves three minutes to prepare. Reacher didn’t need them. He hadn’t unpacked. His toothbrush was still in his pocket. He was good to go. Delfuenso spent her time writing a note for Lucy. Sorenson spent her time getting out of her pant suit and into the free stuff from the piles on her bed. She said she felt it was going to be a denim kind of night.
    Then in a brief before-the-storm pause Delfuenso looked straight at Reacher and said, ‘Remember, Wadiah has