The outer gate didn’t move.
Reacher looked down. There were mats on the floor. In both foot wells. They were made of rubber. Heavy duty. Made to protect the vehicle’s floor from boots soaked with Mississippi rain. And thick enough to save a person from getting cut to ribbons. Maybe. There was only one way to find out. Reacher started to lift his foot. Then he stopped. And pressed down again for a moment.
The outer gate twitched. It shuddered. Then it lurched to the side.
Begovic switched from the cargo area to the passenger seat when they were a safe distance from the prison but he didn’t say a word on the rest of the drive to Bruno Hix’s home. He pressed himself back against his seat and stayed completely still apart from his eyes, which were constantly flicking from one side to the other. Reacher didn’t speak, either. He didn’t want to tell Begovic there was a kid waiting for him at the house until they were close. He didn’t want to give him the chance to think about it too much. To freak out. But at the same time Reacher didn’t feel right making meaningless small talk when he was holding back such a significant piece of information. The farther he drove, the less sure he felt about the choice he’d made. Then all of a sudden he was very glad he’d made no mention of Begovic’s kid.
There were two vans parked outside Hix’s house. One was white with Illinois plates. It looked to be a few years old. It showed plenty of signs of having lived a hard life and it was sitting at the side of the road. The other van was black. It had Mississippi plates. It looked new. Shiny. It was in great shape. All the way from its rear fender to its windshield. But its wings and hood and nose were ruined. Someone had used it to ram Hix’s gates. Hard. It had shoved them open maybe four feet.
Reacher pulled over behind the white van. He told Begovic to stay put even if he heard noises from the house. He climbed out. He had the tan SIG in his hand. He checked both other vehicles’ cabs and cargo areas. There were no people. Then he made his way through the gap in the gates, across the drive, past the VW, and up the steps.
The front door was open. Reacher peered into the hallway. He could see no one. He could hear nothing. He crept inside. Headed left, toward the kitchen. Where he had left Hix and Brockman and Carpenter, tied up and immobile.
The room was empty.
Reacher didn’t care too much about the Minerva guys. But he was worried about Hannah and Jed.
He could see two possibilities. Whoever had arrived in the vans had a third vehicle, which they used to abduct everyone from the house. Or everyone, including the hostiles, was still in the house or on the grounds.
Reacher favored the second option. The first would involve a very large vehicle. It would need to hold a minimum of eight people. And it made no sense to abandon the white van. It looked serviceable and the back was crammed with all kinds of specialized tools and equipment.
There was a sound in the next room. A creak. It was quiet. It happened just once. But Reacher had definitely heard something. He crept to the door. Listened. Heard nothing else. Took hold of the handle. Jerked the door open. And jumped back to avoid getting hit by a guy who tumbled onto the floor, at Reacher’s feet.
It was Maurice. The journalist.
Reacher said, “The hell are you doing in there?”
Maurice said, “Hiding. Waiting for you. What took you so long?”
“Where are the others? Hannah? The kid?”
“Out back. I think.”
“You think?”
“I think they all are.”
“All?”
“Hannah. The kid. Hix and Brockman. Carpenter. And two new guys.”
“From Minerva?”
“No. They weren’t here to rescue anyone. Definitely not. It was like they were looking for Carpenter. Like he was their target.”
“Why did they leave you?”
“They didn’t know about me. I was in the laundry room. I went in there hoping it was a pantry. I was starving.”
“They didn’t search?”
“I was hiding. I’m good at it. I’ve had plenty of practice.”
“So did you see what happened? Or only hear?”
“I saw some. They didn’t search immediately. They came crashing in. Hannah went for her gun. But they were too fast.”
“Are they armed?”
“One guy, the younger one, he had a gun. The older one had a kind of flask and a cloth. He kicked Hannah’s gun away then shoved the cloth in her face. She fell down. Jed tried to rush the guy. He kind of bounced off and the guy grabbed him and shoved the cloth in his face and he fell down, too. Then they searched. I only listened after that.”
“What did they want with Carpenter?”
“One of them, the older one, I think, because he had this tone like he was in charge, he started questioning him. It was kind of weird. He said Carpenter had sold some liver that was bad and it had killed his son. He wanted to know where it came from. If Hix and Brockman were involved.”
“What did Carpenter say?”
“Nothing. He wouldn’t answer. The older guy said that was no problem. He had something better to loosen his tongue. Then I guess he used whatever was on the cloth to knock them out. I heard some thuds, then a bunch of slipping and scuffling. Five times. I guess they dragged everyone out back.”
“Why out back?”
“Because I didn’t hear any vehicles and they weren’t at the front. I looked. To be honest I was going to run. Then I remembered you were coming back. Figured I should stay and warn you.”
“You did the right thing.” Reacher started toward the door.
“There’s one thing I don’t get.” Maurice stayed where he was. “These guys want revenge for this fatal poisoning. What’s that got to do with Minerva? There are no animals at their prisons. The company doesn’t own any farms. Where are they getting the livers from?”
“It wasn’t food poisoning that killed this guy’s kid.” Reacher grabbed the door handle. “And the liver didn’t come from an animal. Not one with four legs.”
Reacher crossed the hallway, ran up the stairs, and went into the center room at the rear of the house. It was a bedroom. It had a polished wood floor. Sleek, pale furniture. And three tall windows covered by white curtains, all closed, which hung down to the floor. Reacher crossed to the center window and peered around the edge of the curtain. He was looking through a glass door, across the balcony, and down onto the big square of grass he had seen when he first broke into the house. The difference now was the people who were there. Hix, Brockman, and Carpenter. Naked. Hanging by their wrists from the lighting gantry over the stage. Immobile. Hannah and Jed, on the grass to the right of the stage. Facedown. Dressed. Also immobile. And two guys Reacher hadn’t seen before. They were ladling some kind of gel out of a large barrel and slopping it into ice troughs they’d taken from the bar.
Reacher ran back down the stairs, through the front door, and around to the rear of the building. He stepped up onto the porch. The new guys set the third trough down on the edge of the stage. They were standing on either side of the barrel. They heard the footsteps. Spun around. Pulled out guns. And aimed at Reacher.
The older guy said, “Drop the weapon. Then get on the ground. Facedown.”
The breeze was blowing directly toward Reacher. Past the two guys. Past their barrel.