Lee CHILD - Better off Dead

I would have been happier if I was sure which of his guys would answer the phone. If I could guarantee it would be one guy in particular. But I had a good idea who it would be. What role he would play, anyway. And in the circumstances I figured that was good enough.

My mother was French. I was born in Germany. I’ve lived on bases in dozens of countries. I’ve listened to people speak all kinds of languages. Some sound familiar. Some I can make sense of pretty easily. Others, not so much.

The words I heard come out of Dendoncker’s mouth sounded just like they were English. Only I knew they meant something else altogether. Something I could understand with no trouble at all. He wanted me to do his dirty work. To plant the device for him. He would keep Fenton alive until it was in place. Then he would kill her. And me. Maybe the truck he’d supply was booby-trapped. Maybe he’d have someone lying in wait with a sniper rifle. But one way or another there was no scenario in which he could let Fenton or me survive.

I understood Dendoncker’s words when he laid out his plan. I was sure I did. But whether he understood mine when I agreed was a whole other question. One he wasn’t going to like the answer to.

The demonstration was over. Terms were agreed. The wind was picking up. It was tugging at our clothes. The desert night was growing chilly. There was no reason to stay outside so we headed back into the building. We trooped along in the same order as before. But two things were different this time. The first was that Mansour wasn’t wheeling a bomb in front of him. He just left its spent remains outside in the parking lot, still shrouded in the last traces of smoke. The second came when we reached the far end of the glass corridor. We passed through the double doors and Mansour turned left. Dendoncker went to the right and headed for his office. I stopped and stood still. The guy with the Uzi almost clattered into me.

“This way, asshole.” Mansour stopped outside the first door he reached and worked its lock.

I let a moment tick past then moved up alongside him. The guy with the Uzi trailed along behind.

“In.” Mansour pushed the door open.

I stepped through and he shoved me in the back. Hard. His fingers were spread. His hand landed square between my shoulder blades. He put his full weight into it, like he was trying to launch me through the back wall. A little payback for earlier, I guessed. Probably hoping I’d at least end up flat on my face and look stupid in front of the guy with the Uzi. In which case he must have been disappointed. Because I saw him move. He was reflected in the glass. So I planted my foot. Leaned back into the pressure. And barely broke my stride.

The room was just like Dendoncker’s office and the workshop, only it was laid out the opposite way around. The bathrooms were on the left and the chalkboard was on the right. There was only one piece of furniture. An army cot. It was in the dead center of the room. It was bolted to the floor. And Fenton was sitting on it. She grabbed her crutch, stood up, and took one step in my direction.

The door slammed behind me. Footsteps stomped away down the corridor. Thirty seconds later they stomped back again. The door opened and a mattress came sailing in through the gap. I stepped to the side to avoid it landing on me. It was thin with cream and olive-green stripes. And it had more than its share of marks and stains. It was probably the one from the bed in the workshop. Minus its sheets and blanket. And pillows.

“Sleep well, assholes.” Mansour slammed the door again. I heard the key turn. And this time two sets of footsteps clattered away into the distance.

Fenton hustled around the crumpled mattress, closed the gap between us, and threw her free arm around me. She pulled me close and pressed her head against my chest.

She said, “I can’t believe you’re here.” Then she let go and took a step back. “You shouldn’t have come. You know that, right? What were you thinking?”

“I’m like the proverbial bad penny. You can’t get rid of me.”

“This isn’t funny. Now we’re both in trouble. Deep trouble. Honestly, there might be no way out of this. For either of us.”

I shook my head. “Don’t worry. Everything’s going to work out fine. Give it three days, and we’ll be home and dry.”

Fenton held up her free hand, then pointed to her ear, then made a circular gesture indicating the room in general. “All I can I say is thank you. And I’m sorry I got you involved in all this.”

“Don’t mention it.” I picked up the mattress and set it on the floor about six feet away from the bed. “And seriously, don’t worry.” I copied her someone might be listening signal. “I’ve made an arrangement with Dendoncker. I do something for him, and he lets us both go.”

“Oh.” Fenton rolled her eyes. “Good. That’s reassuring.”

I used the bathroom and when I came out I saw that Fenton had moved her mattress off her bed frame and laid it on the floor next to mine. She’d spread her sheet out so that it covered about half of each side, and had given us one pillow each. “Want to get the light?” she said.

I hit the switch and made my way slowly through the darkness until my foot found the side of my mattress. I lay down and put my head on the pillow but didn’t take off my shoes. I wanted to be ready for whatever might be in store before morning. I didn’t trust Dendoncker one inch. And I could easily imagine Mansour and his buddies hatching some dumb scheme with me in their crosshairs.

A moment later Fenton sat down. I heard her crutch rattle against the floor. I felt her stretch out. She was still for a moment, then she wriggled across onto my half of the makeshift bed. She snuggled in close. Her breath was warm on my neck. Then she was twisted like she was having some sort of convulsion. Something landed on my head. It was rough against my cheek. And it stank. Like a mixture of diesel fuel and mildew. It was her blanket. Judging by the weight, she’d folded it multiple times. To muffle the sound.

She whispered, “Where are we?”

“You don’t know?” I whispered back.

“They threw a hood over my head. Made me go down a ladder. Felt like maybe through a tunnel. There were stairs at the far end.”

“We’re in Mexico. The tunnel is actually a drain. It goes right under the border.”

“How did you know?”

“I’m good at finding people, remember?”

“You said you were good at catching people. Seems to me we’re the ones who’ve been caught.”

“Don’t worry. It’s a temporary situation.”

“Why did you come?”

“I heard you were in trouble. Figured you’d do the same for me.”

“You came to help?”

“And to deal with Dendoncker.”

Fenton sighed. “It’s just, I was hoping…No. Forget it. I’m being stupid.”

“About what?”

“I was hoping you were bringing news. About Michael. That he was alive.”

I said nothing.

“So,” Fenton said after a moment. “What happens next?”

“Dendoncker lets me go in the morning. I come back for you.”

“Think he’ll let me live long enough?”

“I guarantee he will.”

“Why would he?”

“He thinks he has to. In order to get what he wants.”

“Just what kind of deal did you make?”

“One that won’t turn out the way he thinks it will.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m going to cheat.”

Fenton didn’t reply. She rested her head on my shoulder but I knew she wasn’t about to sleep. I could feel the tension in her.

“Reacher?” She lifted her head. “Will you really come back?”

“Count on it.”