Ли Чайлд - The Sentinel

Reacher crossed to where Zach was rolling and whimpering. He grabbed him by the hair, dragged him to the nearest truck, and propped him up against its wheel.

‘Man, you broke my leg.’ Zach’s voice was an octave higher than before. ‘You broke my hands.’

‘That’s possible,’ Reacher said. ‘A few of the smaller bones, anyway. But there are plenty left. So the question is, do you want me to break those too? Or are you ready to share a little information?’

‘I’ll tell you anything you want to know.’

‘The event Klostermann is organizing. What is it?’

‘Some kind of rally. Honestly, it’s stupid. I’m glad I got disinvited. He doesn’t even have a real venue. Just some half-assed idea to point a bunch of lights up in the air, like they would make pretend walls. It’s dumb.’

‘I don’t know. A little Austrian guy used to do that. I heard it was quite effective.’

‘Huh?’

‘Don’t worry about it. Where will this rally be?’

‘Some field. A friend of his owns a bunch. I don’t know which one.’

‘When?’

‘Not till next year. April twentieth. Ages away. But he was definite about the date. I don’t know why.’

‘You really are a moron, aren’t you, Zach?’

‘Huh?’

‘How do you get tickets for the rally?’

‘It’s invitation only. Two people from each state, plus a bunch of locals.’

‘How does Klostermann decide who to invite?’

‘I don’t know. But I heard each year it’s going to get bigger. Two from each state the first time. Then four. Then eight. Like that.’

‘OK. And what was your role going to be?’

‘Security. I was going to pick a team. Be on duty at all times, in case Antifa found out and tried to shut us down.’

‘I have some news for you, Zach. You’re getting shut down anyway. You can count on it. Only not by Antifa. I know some other people who will be happy to do it. People who work for Uncle Sam.’

Reacher left Zach for a moment and went to drag the unconscious bodies into a pile near the road. He picked up Zach and put him on top of the heap, writhing and screaming. He checked the trucks. The key was in each one so he moved them over to the building and parked them as close to the walls as possible. Then he went back to talk to Zach.

‘Have you got a phone?’

‘Yes.’

‘Does it record video?’

‘Yes. Why? What are you going to do?’

Reacher tore the T-shirt off the nearest guy’s inert body.

‘Go ahead,’ he said. ‘Start filming. Because you’re officially resigning from your Brotherhood . Any time you think about rejoining, watch the movie. And remember. Next time it’ll be your house. With you in it. Tell your friends when they wake up. The same goes for them. And everyone else you know.’

Reacher went back to the workshop. He poked the T-shirt into the orange car’s fuel pipe. Pushed it further in with a screwdriver. Waited for some gas to be soaked up. Lit it. And walked away.

Reacher put a couple of fast miles between him and the blazing workshop, then pulled over and dialled Wallwork’s number.

‘Nothing from Fisher, right?’ Reacher said when his call was picked up.

‘Not yet,’ Wallwork said.

‘There won’t be.’

‘Don’t give up hope, Reacher. It’s only been a few hours. You know how cautious the Russians are.’

‘Klostermann isn’t a Russian. He’s a Nazi.’

‘There’s something wrong with the line. It sounded like you said Klostermann’s a Nazi.’

‘I did. Talk about the ultimate bait and switch.’

‘Run it for me.’

‘I just talked to the biker. Seems Klostermann’s father was a war criminal. That’s why Klostermann wanted the server. There must be some kind of incriminating record on there. And the event he’s organizing? With the guys he met this morning? Are you ready for this? Because you’re going to make some serious headlines when you stop it. He’s reenacting the Nuremberg Rallies. Complete with his own Cathedral of Light.’

‘If you’re joking, Reacher, stop now.’

‘This is no joke.’

‘Where does the biker fit in?’

‘Klostermann sold him on providing security. Just in case Antifa shows up.’

‘OK. So Klostermann’s organizing a little off-piste violence.’

‘That’s my guess. You know how those guys love violence. Especially when it has an us versus them flavour to it. They need their demons.’

‘Thanks, Reacher. I’ll get some people on to it.’

‘The biker and his asshole buddies had tattoos on their chests. Eagles with swastikas. They said they were part of a brotherhood. That might help track the rest of them down. But there’s no immediate rush. The rally’s not until April twentieth. Hitler’s birthday.’

‘They love their symbolism, too.’

‘The Sentinel is much more urgent right now. Klostermann’s not Russian, so the Russians don’t have a copy of the server. They’ll still come after Rutherford. And they could still panic and pull their agent out of Oak Ridge.’

‘We have the server, at least.’

‘Have the pointy heads got anywhere with it yet?’

‘No.’

‘Then we need a new Plan B. Their new guy from Moscow is due here in under twenty-four hours.’

‘I know. Leave it with me. I’ll think of something. And if inspiration strikes you, don’t be shy.’

‘I won’t be. And in the meantime I’ll get Rutherford to try to find whatever Klostermann could be embarrassed about in the town records.’

‘That reminds me. We have a name for Klostermann’s mother. Natalia Matusak. We’re thin on detail. She may have been married once before. We’re still checking. Not that it probably matters now.’

Sands was asleep when Reacher got back to the motel. She was lying on top of the duvet on the bed Reacher hadn’t used. Reacher could see her eyes moving behind her lids. She was dreaming. About boats, he hoped. He crept outside and went to the office to fetch coffee and cinnamon rolls. Sands didn’t wake up when he came back into the room. But she did a minute after he placed a cup and a plate on the nightstand.

They ate and drank and Reacher brought Sands up to speed on what he’d found out. She had a tough time processing it. With her ex-FBI hat on she was thrilled at the prospect of smashing a neo-Nazi network. Particularly one that was trying to recreate Hitler’s Cathedral of Light in rural Tennessee. But she was also worried about the implications of losing The Sentinel to the Russians. And scared for Rutherford. And Fisher. She’d developed some kind of bond with the agent even though they’d never met. In the end she slid off the bed and made for the connecting door.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘We can’t change anything by sitting around. Let’s get to work on the server. See if we can find old man Klostermann’s smoking gun.’

Rutherford was still out for the count in room nineteen. He was curled up at the top of his bed, under the covers. His laptop was sitting at the other end, tethered to the other pieces of equipment. Sands sat cross-legged and fired it up. He didn’t stir. There was no sign he knew she was there even when she started hammering on the keyboard. Reacher stood and looked over her shoulder. One by one a series of images appeared. Some were mildly interesting. Most held no appeal at all. None had any relevance to Klostermann’s father. And none gave any clue about Russian spies, however laterally Reacher tried to think about what he saw.

‘OK,’ Sands said after a few minutes. ‘I’m starting to get an idea of how they put this together. The scans were done in loose chronological order. There are a few outliers, ones that were misfiled or found later or whatever. And they kind of branch into rough categories. Property records. Meeting minutes. That kind of thing. They do seem to cover the right period. 1946 to 1952, correct? When the father arrived, to when he bought the Spy House.’