The Hard Way

ash bough with the rubber bands. Then he lay down flat on his front and inched the bough forward. Toward the six-inch gap where the barn door stood open. Left-handed. He tilted the stick and turned it and manipulated it until he could see a perfect reflection of the view inside.
    Reacher, with a mirror on a stick.

CHAPTER 76
    THE MIRROR SHOWED that the barn was strong and square because it had vertical poles inside that held up the roof ridge and reinforced the timber peg rafters. The poles were foot-square balks of lumber anchored in concrete. There were twelve in total. Five of them had people tied to them. From left to right in the mirror Reacher could see Taylor, then Jackson, then Pauling, then Kate, then Jade. Their arms were pulled behind them and their wrists were tied behind the poles. Their ankles were tied together. They had duct tape across their mouths. All except Jackson. He had no tape. But his mouth was a bloody mess. He had deep cuts above both eyebrows. He wasn’t standing. He had slumped down into a semiconscious crouch at the base of his pole.
    It was Taylor who had been wounded. His shirt was torn and soaked with blood, upper right arm. Pauling looked OK. Eyes a little wild above the slash of silver tape, hair all over the place, but she was functioning. Kate was as white as a sheet and her eyes were closed. Jade had slid down her pole and was sitting on her heels, head down, motionless. Maybe she had fainted.
    The Toyota had been backed in and turned so that it was hard up against the end wall on the left. Its headlights were turned full on, high beam, shining down the long axis of the building, casting twelve harsh shadows from the poles.
    Gregory had his MP5 slung across his back and was wrestling with some kind of a large flat panel. An old door, maybe. Or a tabletop. He was walking it across the floor of the barn, left bottom corner, right bottom corner, gripping it with both hands.
    Lane was standing completely still in the middle of the floor, his right fist around his MP5’s pistol grip and his left fist around the fore grip. His finger was on the trigger and all ten of his knuckles were showing bone white. He was facing the door, sideways on to the Toyota. Its xenon headlight beams lit up his face in bizarre relief. His eye sockets were like black holes.
Borderline mentally ill,
people had said.
Crossed that border long ago,
Reacher thought.
    Gregory got the big flat panel front and center and Reacher heard him say, “Where do you want this?”
    Lane answered, “We need sawhorses.” Reacher moved the mirror and followed Lane’s reflection over to where Jackson was squatting. Lane kicked Jackson in the ribs and asked him, “Do you have sawhorses here?” and Jackson said, “In the other barn,” and Lane said, “I’ll send Perez and Addison for them when they get back.”
    They’re not coming back,
Reacher thought.
    “They’re not coming back,” Jackson said. “Reacher’s out there and he’s got them.”
    “You’re annoying me,” Lane said. But Reacher saw him glance toward the door anyway. And he saw what Jackson was trying to do. He was trying to focus Lane’s attention outside of the barn. Away from the prisoners. He was trying to buy time.
    Smart guy,
Reacher thought.
    Then he saw Lane’s reflection grow large in the mirror. He pulled the ash bough back, slowly and carefully. Aimed his MP5 at a spot an inch outside the door and five feet four inches above the ground.
Put your head out,
he thought.
Take a look. Please. I’ll put three bullets in one ear and out the other.
    But no such luck. Reacher heard Lane stop just inside the door and scream, “Reacher? You out there?”
    Reacher waited.
    Lane called, “Perez? Addison?”
    Reacher waited.
    Lane screamed, “Reacher? You there? Listen up. Ten seconds from now, I’m going to shoot Jackson. In the thighs. He’ll bleed out through his femoral arteries. Then I’ll make Lauren Pauling lick it up like a dog.”
    Reacher waited.
    “Ten,” Lane screamed. “Nine. Eight.” His voice faded as he stalked back to the center of the barn. Reacher slid the mirror back into place. Saw Lane stop near Jackson and heard him say, “He isn’t out there. Or if he is, he doesn’t give a shit about you.” Then Lane turned again and yelled, “Seven. Six. Five.” Gregory was standing mute with the panel held vertical in front of him. Doing nothing.
    “Four,” Lane screamed.
    A lot can happen in a single second. In