Never Go Back: (Jack Reacher 18)

bottom of the concrete staircase, like suckerfish. Eight guys were leaning against their doors and their fenders and their load beds, patiently, like they had all the time in the world, which they did, because there was no way down from the second-floor walkway other than the concrete staircase. Reacher recognized the three guys from the night before, on the hill road, small, medium and large, the latter two looking more or less the same as they had before, and the small guy looking much better, like he was most of the way recovered from whatever binge had led to his accident. The other five were similar fellows, all hardscrabble types, the smallest of them a wiry guy all sinew and leathery skin, the largest somewhat bloated, by beer and fast food, probably. None of them was armed in any way. Reacher could see all sixteen hands, and all sixteen were empty. No guns, no knives, no wrenches, no chains.
    Amateurs.
    Reacher put his hands on the walkway’s rail, and he gazed out over the scene below, serenely, like a dictator in an old movie, ready to address a crowd.
    He said, ‘We need to find a way of getting you guys home before you get hurt. You want to work with me on that?’
    He had overheard a guy in a suit on a cell phone one time, who kept on asking, You want to work with me on that? He guessed it was a technique taught at expensive seminars in dowdy hotel ballrooms. Presumably because it mandated a positive response. Because civilized people felt an obligation to work with one another, if that option was offered. No one ever said, No, I don’t .
    But the guy from the half-ton did.
    He said, ‘No one is here to work with you, boy. We’re here to kick your butt and take our car and our money back.’
    ‘OK,’ Reacher said. ‘We can go down that road, if you like. But there’s no reason why all of you should go to the hospital. You ever heard of Gallup?’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘It’s a polling organization. Like at election time. They tell you this guy is going to get fifty-one per cent of the vote, and this other guy is going to get forty-nine.’
    ‘I’ve heard of them.’
    ‘You know how they do that? They don’t call everyone in America. That would take too long. So they sample. They call a handful of people and scale up the scores.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘That’s what we should do. We should sample. One of us against one of you. We should let the result stand in for what would have happened if we’d all gone at it together. Like the Gallup organization does.’
    No answer.
    Reacher said, ‘If your guy wins, you get to trade your worst truck for the Corvette. And you get half of Billy Bob’s money.’
    No answer.
    Reacher said, ‘But if my side wins, we’ll trade the Corvette for your best truck. And we’ll keep all of Billy Bob’s money.’
    No answer.
    Reacher said, ‘That’s the best I can do, guys. This is America. We need wheels and money. I’m sure you understand that.’
    No answer.
    Reacher said, ‘My friend here is ready and willing. You got a preference? Would you prefer to fight a woman?’
    The guy from the half-ton said, ‘No, that ain’t right.’
    ‘Then you’re stuck with me. But I’ll sweeten the deal. You can increase the size of your sample. Me against two of you. Want to work with me on that?’
    No answer.
    ‘And I’ll fight with both hands behind my back.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘You heard me.’
    ‘Both hands behind your back?’
    ‘For the terms we just agreed. And they’re great terms, guys. I mean, either way you get to keep the Corvette. I’m being reasonable here.’
    ‘Two of us, and your hands behind your back?’
    ‘I’d put a bag on my head if I had one.’
    ‘OK, we’ll take a piece of that.’
    ‘Terrific,’ Reacher said. ‘Any of you got health insurance? Because that would be a good way to choose up sides.’
    Then suddenly next to him Turner whispered, ‘I just remembered what I forgot. From last night. The thing in the original report.’
    ‘Was it the tribal guy?’ Reacher whispered back. An unknown American . A tribal elder . The grain of sand. The American was defined as unknown, but the tribal elder was not. ‘They told you his name?’
    ‘Not his name, exactly. Their names are all too complicated to remember. We use reference numbers instead. Assigned as and when they first become known to U.S. authorities. And the guy’s number was in the report. Which means he’s already in the system. He’s known to somebody.’
    ‘What was the