17 A Wanted Man

place called Lees Summit. But they turned north well before they got there, towards a new place called Raytown, but they never got there, either. They turned off before it slid into view, heading now north and west, into multiple acres of suburban sprawl backed by what Reacher took to be a large park. By day it might have been pretty. By night it was just a big black hole. By that point Delfuenso was driving slow and cautious, nosing the silent car through uncertain turns, pausing hesitantly, moving briskly through patches of light, slowing again in patches of darkness, as if unsure of her destination, or scared of it.
    Reacher asked her, ‘Have you been here before?’
    She said, ‘None of us has, except McQueen. Too soon for that. This phase of an operation is all about standing back and seeing what develops. But I’m copied on the file. I know the address. I’ve seen the house on Google Maps. So I know the general situation.’
    The general situation was going to be American suburbia, plain and simple. That was clear. There were municipal sidewalks left and right, mossy concrete, heaved up here and there by tree roots, studded less often by city fireplugs. And Reacher could see houses, regularly spaced in lots, most of them modest, some of them small, a few of them large, all of them dark and fast asleep. Most of them had white siding. Some were painted a colour. Most of them were one-storey, much wider than they were high. Some had eyebrow windows at the eaves, for upstairs bonus rooms. All had mailboxes and foundation plantings, and lawns, and driveways. Most had cars parked, at least one or two, or sometimes three. Some had children’s bikes outside, dumped and dewy, and soccer goals, or hockey goals, or basketball hoops. Some had flagpoles, with Old Glories hanging limp and grey in the still night air.
    ‘Not what I expected,’ Reacher said.
    ‘I told you,’ Delfuenso said. ‘A decent, crowded neighbourhood.’
    ‘Syrians don’t stand out here?’
    ‘The pale ones say they’re Italians. The dark ones have been telling people they’re Indians. From the subcontinent. You know, Delhi and Mumbai and places like that. Most people can’t tell the difference. They say they work tech jobs in the city.’ Then she slowed, and came to a stop on the kerb. She said, ‘OK, I think we’re about two blocks away. How do you want to do this?’
    Reacher had stormed houses before. More than once, less than twenty times, probably. But usually with a full company of MPs, divided into squads, some of them in back, some of them out front, some of them held in reserve in armoured trucks with heavy firepower, all of them equipped with working radios. And all of them usually in places cordoned off and cleared of non-combatants. And usually with a bunch of medics standing by. He felt under-equipped, and vulnerable.
    He said, ‘We could set fire to the place. That usually works pretty good. They all come running out sooner or later. Except that McQueen could be tied up or locked in or otherwise incapacitated. So we’d better put one of us in the cellar door, if there is one, and one of us through the front, and one of us through the back. How are your marksmanship skills?’
    ‘Pretty good,’ Delfuenso said.
    ‘Not bad,’ Sorenson said.
    ‘OK, you’ll have your guns up and out in front of you. Shoot anything that moves. Except if it’s me or McQueen. Use head shots for certainty. Aim at the centre of the face. Save rounds. No double taps. We’ll have the advantage for about four seconds. We can’t let it turn into a siege.’
    Delfuenso said, ‘You don’t want to try a decoy approach? I could go to the door and pretend to be lost or something.’
    ‘No,’ Reacher said. ‘Because then after they shoot you in the head Sorenson and I will have to do all the work on our own.’
    ‘Have you done this kind of thing before?’
    ‘Haven’t you?’
    ‘No, this is strictly a SWAT function.’
    ‘It’s usually about fifty-fifty,’ Reacher said. ‘In terms of a happy ending, I mean. That’s been my experience.’
    ‘Maybe we should wait for Quantico.’
    ‘Let’s at least go take a look.’
    They slid out of Bale’s car, stealthy and quiet, guns in their hands. They were the only things moving. Dark blue clothing, nearly invisible in the moonlight. They went single file on the sidewalk, instinctively six or eight feet from each other, the whole length of the first block, and across the street without