Lee Child: Small Wars (The new Jack Reacher short story)

Joe said, “Interesting hypothetical. What would a hypothetical policeman do about it?”

“He would feel hypothetically better without a guy in the lobby and a guy in the room.”

“Just Neagley?”

“She’s driving the car. She’s entitled to eat.”

“Crawford is serious shit.”

Reacher said, “Relax. The hypothetical policeman doesn’t see a problem. He’s a real-world person. I’m sure his analysis would have been the same as the hypothetical unit commander’s. But there’s a problem. I suppose the hypothetical size fifteens were supposed to be a dealbreaker, a cold case forever, but they didn’t work. They’re railroading a guy. Size fifteen feet, the same ammo as the hypothetical unit commander doing it himself, and the same tires, all a pure coincidence, but they’re calling it three cherries on a slot machine. The guy is going down.”

“What should a hypothetical unit commander do about that?”

“I’m sure there’s a code word. Probably through the office of the president. Things get shut down. Guys get let go.”

Joe said nothing.

“Then cases stay cold forever.”

Joe said, “OK.”

Then he said, “You’re a hell of a policeman, to figure all that out.”

Reacher said, “No, I’m a hell of a policeman to not quite figure it out, but get you to confirm it for me anyway. And I’m proud of you. It had to be contained. No choice. You did well. Good thinking, and almost perfect performance.”

“Almost?”

“The three shots were bad. An obvious execution. You should have made it messy. The throat, maybe. Everyone assumes a round in the throat is a miss from someplace else. Automatic amateur hour. You can add a head shot if it makes you feel better, but make it weird, like in the eye or the ear.”

“That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing in Central America?”

They talked about other things for the rest of the meal. Gossip, people they knew, things they had read, politics, and family. Joe was worried about their mother. She wasn’t herself.

Reacher and Neagley got back to Smith late the next day. Ellsbury’s sergeant told them the State Police’s suspect had been released without charge, that day at noon, and driven home. The case itself had been withdrawn from all concerned, and assigned as a bedding-in trial for a brand-new investigative unit deep inside the Pentagon. No one had ever heard of it. Conclusions would be announced within a year or two, if available.

Then another telex came in. Apparently Major David Noble had recovered from his automobile accident, and was anxious to assume his intended command. Reacher was posted back to Central America. And Neagley back to Bragg, because Noble was bringing his own sergeant. The reorganization lasted less than a year. No one ever heard of it again.

Possibly the finest professional achievement of Joe Reacher’s military career was to get the war plan for Iraq changed without ever revealing why. And a year and a half later, when boots hit the desert sand in Kuwait, it all worked out fine, all over in a hundred hours, Plan B or not.