Foreign and Domestic: A Get Reacher Novel (32 page)

Americans are so predictable,
he thought.

Lane parked the car in the driveway of the Rowley house, and Grant parked behind him. They got out and walked to the door. Grant rang the bell.

A moment later, Mrs. Rowley opened the front door and welcomed the men into her home. She said, “I’m so grateful you’ve come to help us. Doug told me that you all worked with him in the Army. My husband trusts you. Please come in and make yourselves at home.”

Lane said, “Thank you so much for your hospitality, ma’am. We just want to help bring your daughter home safely. Where’s Doug?”

“He’s in the family room. He said it was important to watch the news at 6:30.”

“It’s imperative, ma’am. Please come join us. We’ll discuss your daughter soon.”

Mrs. Rowley nodded, a little confused, but she’d been so out of it since Raggie’s disappearance that it all seemed normal to her. So she led them through the foyer, down the long twisting hallway, and into the family room.

Grant stayed close to Lane and didn’t speak. He didn’t want to let his British accent slip. The last guest to enter the room was the African man with no ears.

Mrs. Rowley stared at him, flummoxed. She’d always told Raggie’s cousins that it wasn’t polite to stare at her daughter’s stump, and yet she found herself unable to stop staring at this man. She raised her hand over her mouth in a failed attempt to cover her shock at his appearance.

The man said, “Mrs. Rowley. I knew your husband. Back in Africa. I’m here as a friend to offer my help as well.”

She said, “I’m…I’m sorry. I don’t mean to stare. Who are you?”

He said, “My name is Michael Chang. I knew your husband long ago in the bush.”

She said, “You were in the Army?”

“You could say that. I was in an army, just not the American one. I was in a rebellion, and your husband was on my side.”

“A rebellion? I don’t know anything about that. Did my husband help you?”

The man with no ears and no right arm smiled and said, “Your husband helped me to find out who I really am. So in a way, yes. He helped me.”

Chapter 49

OFFICER DAFTSHAW PULLED UP TO THE DRIVEWAY
of the old Victorian house, parking his car on the street because there was no more room in the driveway. He turned back to Raggie and saw that she was still asleep. She reminded him one of his kids on a long car ride. Of course, the ex-wife had gotten custody of them, but she allowed him visitations—ironic since he was the one who paid child support and paid for most of their school clothes, supplies, and part of the rent. But he didn’t complain. He was the one who was never home. He was happy just to see them on the weekends.

Daftshaw turned off the ignition and went around to the back door. He opened it and reached in and shook her. Raggie opened her eyes slowly, feeling like maybe the whole ordeal had been a bad dream, but that lasted only a second until she saw Daftshaw.

She said, “We’re home.”

He said, “You’re home. Come on, let’s go.”

She smiled and leaped out of the car with Max in tow.

Daftshaw followed her up through an open gate and a bricked-in privacy fence. The house looked more like a small fortress than a home that people lived in.

They went to a side entrance instead of the front door. Daftshaw could tell it was the way Raggie had always entered her own house. And why not? It was her home.

His instincts had told him to ring the doorbell, which was also procedure, but he didn’t. He should’ve because as soon as he followed her in, he felt something was definitely off.

They walked in through the kitchen. Raggie ran through a large dining room and straight into the next room with Max following. She grabbed onto her mother and hugged her like she hadn’t seen her in years.

The thing that was very wrong was that there were four other men in the room, and three of them had guns drawn as soon as he showed his face in the dining room.

Max barked. One of the men, a guy with a British accent, said, “Shut that dog up!”

Raggie grabbed Max by the snout and fought him to keep it shut.

Daftshaw didn’t even reach for his gun. He was a slow draw and knew it. Plus, he might’ve stood a chance against one guy with a gun, but not three.

John Lane said, “Welcome, officer. Please come in.”

Daftshaw entered the living room and stayed standing. His heart started to pound. Some old part of his brain, the part that cared only about survival, knew he was going to die.

Lane pointed his gun at the officer and said, “Take off your belt slowly and toss it and your weapon over to us.”

Daftshaw did as he was told and then put his hands up.

Lane said, “Have a seat.”

Daftshaw sat on the couch.

Mrs. Rowley and Raggie held each other tight.

Mrs. Rowley said, “Please don’t hurt us, Doug. Please. Don’t let them.”

Graine said, “Shut up! I’ve listened to you and your mouth for hours! Just keep it shut!” He waved his gun around and then pointed it in their direction, swinging it back and forth between them like a pendulum.

Lane holstered his gun and said, “Take it easy. We need them.”

Graine backed off and holstered his gun but kept the safety off.

Grant kept his gun out and trained on the cop.

Chang said, “It’s time. Keep them all silent.”

Lane nodded.

Grant moved in close and picked up the cop’s gun and belt. He removed the gun, a Glock 19 loaded with 9mm Parabellums. He ejected the magazine and jerked the slide back in a quick fluid motion. The bullet in the chamber discharged and bounced and rolled on the carpet.

Grant picked up the clip and laid the bullets on the coffee table. He stuffed the empty gun into his waistband then walked in closer to the cop and sat out of grabbing distance. He kept the gun pointed at him.

Chang sat on the coffee table and pointed the remote at the TV and switched to CNN. He turned the volume up and remained glued to the events flashing across the screen. They cut to Air Force One. It had just landed and was taxiing up to a crowd of onlookers.

Blue siren lights flashed in the background from Secret Service vehicles and swept across a sea of faces. The camera was trained on the side of the plane as it pulled to a stop. It was the cleanest plane Raggie had ever seen.

The fuselage was painted white. There was a blue stripe across the side of the plane that curved down from the all blue top face of the nose. Above the wing in a big blue font were the words
THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
. Slightly underneath the strip, near the front of the wing, was the presidential seal. The tail had the American flag painted on it.

The camera was behind the second row of people and panned out to a wide shot which showed the plane taxiing to a stop. A large metal staircase attached to a white truck pulled up to the plane. The camera turned and focused on the tail end. A staircase dropped out of the plane, and people with suitcases started to exit. They seemed to be mostly Secret Service agents in suits and ties.

A group of agents walked out and then stopped to form a security perimeter around the front wheel of the plane—two on each side of the wheel and two by the nose. Two more agents stood on either side of the plane, near the engines, just underneath each of the wings.

The camera zoomed in on the front exit door. The hatch opened, and a Secret Service agent stepped into view. He pushed the hatch, and it swung open until it banged against the fuselage. It took a few minutes for the top of the metal staircase to inch into a perfect fit around the door. The agent stepped out and checked it. He looked at the railings and the platform to make sure it was secure. The Secret Service was responsible for more than just human threats. They were responsible for safeguarding the president against all enemies—even gravity and poor craftsmanship.

Raggie had never seen the president exit Air Force One before. She’d had no idea how much of an ordeal it was—or how boring it was. The camera focused on the open hatch at the top of the stairs. Other than the noise from the aircraft’s engines, there was absolutely nothing happening.

Chang seemed to get frustrated by this because his one hand squeezed the remote control in a kind of quiet tantrum. He squeezed it so tightly that Raggie could hear the plastic making cracking sounds from the pressure.

The news anchorman seemed to sense the boredom of the CNN viewers because he started to talk over the still images. He droned on and on about some kind of summit and about how the president returning was such a big deal because he’d never visited Africa in his entire presidency. The entire affair seemed to take forever, but in reality, it was only about fifteen minutes.

President Asher was a tall man in his late forties. He was one of the youngest presidents in American history, but not the youngest. He finally emerged from the hatch and walked out onto the landing of the stairs. He waved to the spectators. He was the only person to emerge.

This was something that Lane and Chang hadn’t foreseen. Lane had studied hundreds of Air Force One landings all over the world. He’d spent weeks watching YouTube videos and had watched the actions of the Secret Service agents and studied their patterns. After viewing dozens of videos, he’d started to recognize the different patterns and security formations they were using. He knew their techniques. In the last four years, the current president had gotten off Air Force One one thousand and fifty-one times. And that was counting only the times that Lane could find video or documentation of.

Chang said, “Why’s he alone? Where’s Rowley?”

Raggie and her mother stared at Chang.

Raggie wasn’t aware of who these guys were or what exactly was going on, but she had a sense that it was something involving her father and the president. And she knew it was something bad. Her mother seemed to have absolutely no idea because she asked, “What does this have to do with Gibson? Doug? Talk to me!”

Graine said, “I told you two to shut up!”

Mrs. Rowley looked down and away. Raggie reached her hand out to hold her mother’s.

Lane said, “Relax. He exits alone. He’s the only one who uses the staircase at the front. Everyone else comes out the back.”

The president quick-stepped down the stairs on long, wiry legs. He made it to the bottom and had to walk through his security before he was greeted by a group of men in suits, all guys that Raggie didn’t recognize. They stood far from the press corps, shaking hands and talking for another five minutes before Raggie’s dad emerged in the background.

Chang stood up as soon as he saw Rowley. He stepped closer to the TV and stayed glued, waiting for something bad to happen.

Chapter 50

CAMERON AND CORD PARKED DOWN THE STREET
from the Rowley house and waited for their backup to arrive.

Cord said, “We can’t wait long.”

Cameron said, “We won’t have to. Look, there she is.”

They watched a black Ford Taurus pull up with the lights off. The driver killed the engine and stepped out of the vehicle. Li met Cameron at the front of the car and said, “You boys need my help?”

Cameron looked her up and down and then again in reverse order. She’d dressed quickly and sped all the way over. He knew that because he’d called her, and in only twenty minutes, she was there. She’d probably used the sirens embedded in the grill. But how she managed to look so good in that short amount of time, he had no idea.

She wore black slacks, a black long-sleeved top, and a black hat with the bill turned to the front, none of that backward crap. She managed to look deadly and sexy as hell all at the same time. Cameron smiled.

He said, “We couldn’t be more grateful.”

Cord said, “Did you bring a gun?”

Li reached back to the pancake holster behind her and pulled out a Ruger SP101 double-action revolver, stainless steel with a black pistol grip.

Cameron said, “A three fifty-seven? That’s quite a piece. You know how to shoot it?”

Li said, “I can shoot you with it.”

“Why didn’t you wear a vest?”

“I don’t have one. I work support, remember?”

Cameron stayed quiet.

Cord said, “You two can flirt later. Let’s hurry. My shoulder isn’t getting any better.”

Cameron said, “You stay in the truck.”

“No way! I’m going in with you!”

“Forget it! You’ve been shot. You won’t be any help. Besides, someone needs to stay on the street. Once we start firing, this block will be crawling with agents and cops. You’ll need to make sure that none of the bad guys get away.”

Cord started to protest, but the pain in his shoulder and ribs hurt like hell. So he said, “Just get in there and save that family!”

Cameron said, “Get on the phone and start calling people.”

“Take the Beretta. Leave the MP5. You’ll never make it up the street with that gun. Not in this neighborhood,” Cord said.

Li said, “Why don’t we just get all of these other agents to storm the house with us? They're already here and armed.”

Cord said, “These guys aren’t worried about getting away alive. They’re willing to die, and they’ll kill Raggie and Claire. And the agents on this block are sworn to protect these other families. They’ll secure their own first. We don’t have time to explain things to them. It may already be too late.”