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The guy stood up. Still facing away.
In her head she heard Reacher say what was he going to do to you? That’s how you measure it. Get your retaliation in first.
Out loud she said, “Now walk out to your car.”
The guy stepped out of the door and onto the path. He set out walking. She followed behind. He was walking slow, because he was unsure what was going to happen. But they got there in the end. The car was parked with the passenger door at the curb.
She said, “Open the door and get in the passenger seat. Leave the door open and don’t put your seat belt on.”
He did what she told him. He got settled in the seat and she crouched down on the sidewalk, level with him, eye to eye.
She said, “Turn off the flashing lights.”
He clicked a switch on the dash. The urgent blue strobes went out. Calm and peaceful darkness returned to the neighborhood.
She said, “Now slide over the console and get in the driver’s seat.”
It was difficult, but he made it. He wasn’t a big guy. He got settled again. She shuffled forward, maintaining the same relative distance.
She said, “Who called you for this job?”
“I don’t know. I’m an operator. I’m not on the business side.”
“Guys like you are trained to work as a team. You all know everything.”
No answer.
“I’ll count to two,” she said again. “One.”
“Some lawyer in California.”
“Be more specific.”
“They have an office in Silicon Valley. A guy there calls us once in a while. It’s dog eat dog out there.”
“What’s the guy’s name?”
“Hugo.”
“Second name?”
“We don’t know. As a rule we don’t get formally introduced.”
“Who is Hugo’s client?”
“We have no idea. We never do. That’s the whole point of using a middleman.”
“Best guess?”
“Some crazy rich tech guy, spending money like water. This is Silicon Valley we’re talking about.”
“So you’re getting paid well for tonight?”
“Can’t complain.”
Turner shuffled closer still. She put the MP5’s muzzle right inside the car. She aimed. She touched the trigger and stitched a neat burst of three silent rounds through the guy’s temple. Blood and brain spattered over his window. He sagged in his seat, eyes wide open.
Turner wiped the MP5 with a handkerchief from her pocket. She found the dead guy’s right hand and squeezed his fingerprints and his palm print all over the clean metal. She let the guy’s hand fall on the console. She let the MP5 fall on the passenger seat. She backed out and stood up and closed the passenger door.
