Die Trying

you doing?” Borken screamed at her. “You think you can shoot a hundred people with that little pop-gun?”
    Holly shook her head.
    “No,” she said quietly.
    Then she reversed the Ingram and held it to her chest.
    “But I can shoot myself,” she said.

32
    THE CROWD WAS silent. Their breathing was swallowed up by the awesome mountain silence. Everybody was staring at Holly. She was holding the Ingram reversed, the muzzle jammed into a spot above her heart. Thumb backward on the trigger, tensed. Borken’s bloated face was greased with panic. His huge frame was shaking and trembling. He was hopping around next to his upturned box, staring wide-eyed at her. She was looking back at him, calmly.
    “I’m a hostage, right?” she said to him. “Important to them, important to you, because of who I am. All kinds of importance to all kinds of people. You expect them to do stuff to keep me alive. So now it’s your turn. Let’s talk about what stuff you’re prepared to do to keep me alive.”
    Borken saw her glance at Reacher.
    “You don’t understand,” he screamed at her. Wild urgency in his voice. “I’m not going to kill this guy. This guy stays alive. The situation has changed.”
    “Changed how?” she asked, calmly.
    “I’m commuting his sentence,” Borken said. Still panic in his voice. “That’s why we’re here. I was just going to announce it. We know who he is. We just found out. We were just informed. He was in the Army. Major Jack Reacher. He’s a hero. He won the Silver Star.”
    “So?” Holly asked.
    “He saved a bunch of Marines,” Borken said urgently. “In Beirut. Ordinary fighting men. He pulled them out of a burning bunker. Marines will never attack us while he’s here. Never. So I’m going to use him as another hostage. He’s good insurance, against the damn Marines. I need him.”
    She stared at him. Reacher stared at him.
    “His sentence is commuted,” Borken said again. “Five years on punishment detail. That’s all. Nothing else. No question about it. I need him alive.”
    He stared at her with a salesman’s beam like the problem was solved. She stared back and forth between him and Reacher. Reacher was watching the crowd. The crowd was angry. The circus had left town before the performance. Reacher felt like they had all taken a step toward him. They were testing Borken’s power over them. Holly glanced at him, fear in her eyes. Nodded to him. An imperceptible movement of her head. She would be safe, she was saying, whatever happened. Her identity protected her like an invisible magic cloak. Reacher nodded back. Without turning around, he judged the distance to the trees behind him. Maybe twenty feet. Shove Fowler at the front rank, drag the chain, sprint like hell, he might be in the trees before anybody could aim a weapon. Twenty feet, standing start, using the momentum of shouldering Fowler away to help him, maybe four or five strides, maybe three seconds, maybe four. In the trees, he would stand a chance against the bullets. He imagined them smacking into the trunks either side of him as he ran and dodged. A forest is a fugitive’s best friend. It takes a lot of luck to hit a guy running through trees. He shifted his weight and felt his ham-strings tighten. Felt the flood of adrenaline. Fight or flight. But then Borken flung his arms wide again. Held them out like an angel’s wings and used the awesome power of his eyes on his people.
    “I have made my decision,” he called. “Do you understand?”
    There was a long pause. It went on for seconds. Then a hundred heads snapped back.
    “Yes sir!” a hundred voices yelled.
    “Do you understand?” he called again.
    A hundred heads snapped back again.
    “Yes sir!” a hundred voices yelled.
    “Five years on punishment detail,” Borken called. “But only if he can prove who he is. We are informed this man is the only non-Marine in history to win the Marine Sniper competition. We are told this man can put six bullets through a silver dollar a thousand yards away. So I’m going to shoot against him. Eight hundred yards. If he wins, he lives. If he loses, he dies. Do you understand?”
    A hundred heads snapped back.
    “Yes sir!” a hundred voices yelled.
    The rumble from the crowd started up again. This time, they sounded interested. Reacher smiled inwardly. Smart move, he thought. They wanted a spectacle, Borken was giving them one. Fowler breathed out and pulled a key from his pocket. Ducked around