Die Trying

That’s the other attack. They’re going to explode it in a crowd. There’s a whole ton of dynamite in it. And he’s six hours ahead of us.”
    McGrath was first down the stairs.
    “Into the jeep,” he yelled.
    Garber ran for the jeep. But Milosevic was much nearer. He vaulted in and fired it up. Then McGrath was helping Holly into the front seat. Reacher was on the sidewalk, staring south, lost in thought. Milosevic was drawing his revolver. He was thumbing the hammer back. Garber stopped. Raised his rifle and aimed. Milosevic leaned across in front of Holly. McGrath jumped away. Milosevic stamped on the gas and roared away one-handed with the muzzle jammed into Holly’s side. One-handed over the rough road, the jeep was all over the place. No chance of hitting Milosevic. Garber could see that. He lowered his rifle and watched them go.

    BOTH OF THEM?” Webster said to himself. “Please, God, no.”
    “We could use another chopper right now,” the aide said. “I don’t think we have to worry about the missiles anymore.”
    He panned the camera north and west and zoomed in on the mountain bowl in front of the mine entrances. The four missile trucks were sitting inert. The sprawled body of the dead sentry was nearby.
    “OK, call in a chopper,” Johnson said.
    “Better coming direct from you, sir,” the aide said.
    Johnson turned sideways to use the phone. Then he spun back to watch as the jeep drove into shot. It bounced up out of the last hairpin into the bowl and raced across the shale. Swerved around the dead trucks and slewed to a stop in front of the left-hand shed. Milosevic jumped out and danced around the hood. Revolver steady on Holly as he approached. He pulled her out by the arm and dragged her to the big wooden doors. Levered one open with his foot and pushed her inside. He followed her in and the huge door swung shut. Webster glanced away from the screen.
    “Call the chopper, sir,” the aide said.
    “Make it a fast one,” Webster added.

    QUICKEST WAY TO the mines was a shortcut through the Bastion. It was deserted and quiet. They ran through it and headed north across the rifle range toward the parade ground. Stopped short in the woods. The whole remaining militia population was standing silently in neat ranks, quiet fearful faces turned to the front, where Borken’s upturned box still awaited his arrival.
    Reacher ignored them and led the others around in the trees. Then in a straight line to the road. Straight north along it. Reacher was carrying the big Barrett. He had retrieved it from the mess hall roof, because he liked it. Garber was hurrying at his side. McGrath was pushing ahead as fast as he could, desperate to get to Holly.
    They ducked back into the woods before the last hairpin and Reacher scouted ahead. He holed up behind the rock he’d used before and covered every inch of the bowl with the Barrett’s scope. Then he waved the other two up to join him.
    “They’re in the motor pool,” he said. “Left-hand shed.”
    He pointed with the fat barrel of the sniper rifle and the others saw the abandoned jeep and nodded. He ran over the shale and crouched behind the hood of the first missile truck. Garber sent McGrath next. Then he ran over. They crouched together behind the truck and stared at the log doors.
    “What now?” Garber asked. “Frontal assault?”
    “He’s got a gun to her head,” McGrath said. “I don’t want her hurt, Reacher. She’s precious to me, OK?”
    “Any other way in?” Garber asked.
    Reacher stared at the doors and the roaring of the Beirut bomb receded and was replaced by the quiet whimpering of an earlier nightmare. He spent a minute trawling desperately for an alternative. He thought about the rifles and the missiles and the trucks. Then he gave it up.
    “Keep him occupied,” he said. “Talk to him, anything.”
    He left the Barrett and took the Glock back from McGrath. Dodged to the next truck, and the next, all the way level with the entrance to the other cavern. The charnel house, full of bodies and skeletons and rats. He heard McGrath calling to Milosevic in a faint faraway voice and he ran to the big log doors. Ducked in through the gap and moved back into the dark.
    He had no flashlight. He felt his way around the troop carrier and eased on into the mountain. He held his hand above his head and felt the roof come down. Felt for the bodies in the pile and skirted them. Crouched and headed left for the skeletons. The rats