One Shot

feet at his shins.
Stupid,
Reacher thought.
You’re just burning oxygen. And you ain’t getting more, pal. Better believe it.
He tightened his grip. Crushed harder. And harder. And then harder, in a remorseless subliminal rhythm that said:
More,
and
More,
and
More.
His teeth ground together. His heart pounded. His muscles swelled as big and hard as river rocks and started burning. He could feel Vladimir’s rib cage moving, clicking, separating, cracking, crushing. And his last living breath leaking out of his starving lungs.
    Sokolov moved.
    Reacher staggered under Vladimir’s weight. Turned clumsily on one leg. Kicked out and caught the hilt of the knife with his heel. Sokolov stopped moving. Vladimir stopped moving. Reacher kept the pressure full on for another whole minute. Then he eased off slowly and bent down and laid the body gently on the floor. Squatted down. Breathed hard. Checked for a pulse.
    No pulse.
    He stood up and pulled Cash’s knife out of Sokolov’s neck and used it to cut Vladimir’s throat, ear to ear.
For Sandy,
he thought. Then he turned back and cut Sokolov’s throat, too.
Just in case.
Blood soaked the tabletop and dripped to the floor. It didn’t spurt. It just leaked. Sokolov’s heart had already stopped pumping. He squatted down again and cleaned the blade on Vladimir’s shirt, one side, then the other. He pulled the phone out of his pocket. Heard Cash say:
“Helen?”
    He whispered: “What’s up?”
    Cash answered, “We took an incoming round. I can’t raise Helen.”
    “Yanni, move left,” Reacher said. “Find her. Franklin, you there?”
    Franklin said, “Here.”
    “Stand by to call the medics,” Reacher said.
    Cash asked, “Where are you?”
    “In the house,” Reacher said.
    “Opposition?”
    “Unsuccessful,” Reacher said. “Where did the shot come from?”
    “Third-floor window, north. Which makes sense, tactically. They’ve got the sniper up there. They can direct him based on what they see from the cameras.”
    “Not anymore,” Reacher said. He dropped the phone back in his pocket. Picked up the gun. Checked the cylinder. It was fully loaded. Five Smith & Wesson .38 Specials. He moved out to the hallway with the knife in his right hand and the gun in his left. Went looking for the basement door.

    Cash heard Yanni talking to herself as she moved away to his left. Low voice, but clear, like a running commentary. She was saying: “I’m moving east now, keeping low, staying tight against the fence in the darkness. I’m looking for Helen Rodin. We know they fired at her. Now she’s not answering her phone. We’re hoping she’s OK, but we’re worried that she isn’t.”
    Cash listened until he couldn’t hear her anymore. He shook his head in bemusement. Then he ducked his eye to the scope and watched the house.

    Rosemary Barr wasn’t in the basement. It took Reacher less than a minute to be completely certain of that. It was a wide-open space, musty, dimly lit, uninterrupted and totally empty except for the foundations of three brick chimneys.
    Reacher paused at the circuit breaker box. He was tempted to throw the switch. But Chenko had a night sight, and he didn’t. So he just crept back up the stairs.

    Yanni found Helen Rodin’s shoes literally by stumbling over them. They were placed neatly side by side at the base of the fence. High heels, black patent, gleaming slightly in the ragged moonlight. Yanni kicked them accidentally and heard the sound of empty footwear. She bent and picked them up. Hung them on the fence by their heels.
    “Helen?” she whispered. “
Helen?
Where are you?”
    Then she heard a voice: “Here.”
    “Where?”
    “
Here.
Keep going.”
    Yanni walked on. Found a black shape rolled tight against the base of the fence.
    “I dropped my phone,” Helen said. “Can’t find it.”
    “Are you OK?”
    “He missed me. I was leaping around like a madwoman. But the bullet came real close. It scared me. I just dropped my phone and ran.”
    Helen sat up. Yanni squatted next to her.
    “Look,” Helen said. She was holding something in the palm of her hand. Something bright. A coin. A quarter, new and shiny.
    “What is it?” Yanni said.
    “A quarter,” Helen said.
    “So what?”
    “Reacher gave it to me.”
    Helen was smiling. Yanni could see the white of her teeth in the moonlight.

    Reacher crept down the first-floor hallway. Opened doors and searched rooms to the left and right as he went. They were all