Without Fail

hip-deep.”
    Froelich shrugged.
    “OK,” she said. “I guess it’s a conventional plan. Place like that, we’re pretty limited for options. Why are you asking?”
    “Because we’ve done a lot of work on this,” Bannon said. “A lot of thinking.”
    “And?” Stuyvesant said.
    “We’re looking at four specific factors here. First, this all started seventeen days ago, correct?”
    Stuyvesant nodded.
    “And who’s hurting?” Bannon asked. “That’s the first question. Second, think about the demonstration homicides out in Minnesota and Colorado. How were you alerted? That’s the second question. Third, what were the weapons used out there? And fourth, how did the last message end up on Ms. Froelich’s hallway floor?”
    “What are you saying?”
    “I’m saying all four factors point in one single direction.”
    “What direction?”
    “What’s the purpose behind the messages?”
    “They’re threats,” Froelich said.
    “Who are they threatening?”
    “Armstrong, of course.”
    “Are they? Some were addressed to you, and some were addressed to him. But has he seen any of them? Even the ones addressed directly to him? Does he even know anything about them?”
    “We never tell our protectees. That’s policy, always has been.”
    “So Armstrong’s not sweating, is he? Who’s sweating?”
    “We are.”
    “So are the messages really aimed at Armstrong, or are they really aimed at the United States Secret Service? In a real-world sense?”
    Froelich said nothing.
    “OK,” Bannon said. “Now think about Minnesota and Colorado. Hell of a demonstration. Not easy to stage. Whoever you are, shooting people down takes nerve and skill and care and thought and preparation. Not easy. Not something you undertake lightly. But they undertook it, because they had some kind of point to make. Then what did they do? How did they tip you off? How did they tell you where to look?”
    “They didn’t.”
    “Exactly,” Bannon said. “They went to all that trouble, took all that risk, and then they sat back and did nothing at all. They just waited. And sure enough, the NCIC reports were filed by the local police departments, and the FBI computers scanned through NCIC like they’re programmed to do, and they spotted the word Armstrong like they’re programmed to do, and we called you with the good news.”
    “So?”
    “So tell me, how many Joe Publics would know all that would happen? How many Joe Publics would sit back and take the risk that their little drama would go unconnected for a day or two until you read about it in the newspapers?”
    “So what are you saying? Who are they?”
    “What weapons did they use?”
    “An H&K MP5SD6 and a Vaime Mk2,” Reacher said.
    “Fairly esoteric weapons,” Bannon said. “And not legally available for sale to the public, because they’re silenced. Only government agencies can buy them. And only one government agency buys both of them.”
    “Us,” Stuyvesant said, quietly.
    “Yes, you,” Bannon said. “And finally, I looked for Ms. Froelich’s name in the phone book. And you know what? She’s not there. She’s unlisted. Certainly there was no boxed ad saying, ‘I’m a Secret Service crew chief and this is where I live.’ So how did these guys know where to deliver the last message?”
    There was a long silence.
    “They know me,” Froelich said, quietly.
    Bannon nodded. “I’m sorry, folks, but as of now the FBI is looking for Secret Service people. Not current employees, because current employees would have been aware of the early arrival of the demonstration threat and would have acted a day sooner. So we’re focusing on recent ex-employees who still know the ropes. People who knew you wouldn’t tell Armstrong himself. People who knew Ms. Froelich. People who knew Nendick, too, and where to find him. Maybe people who left under a cloud and are carrying some kind of grudge. Against the Secret Service, not against Brook Armstrong. Because our theory is that Armstrong is a means, not an end. They’ll waste a Vice President–elect just to get at you, exactly like they wasted the other two Armstrongs.”
    The room was silent.
    “What would be the motive?” Froelich asked.
    Bannon made a face. “Embittered ex-employees are walking, talking, living, breathing motives. We all know that. We’ve all suffered from it.”
    “What about the thumbprint?” Stuyvesant said. “All our people are printed. Always have been.”
    “Our assumption