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“His men are mostly a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic, too.
“Is this what you did? In the FBI? In your brainstorming sessions?” “Absolutely. Didn’t you?” “I was an MP. I was lucky to find anyone with a brain to storm.”
They each took a sip and moved back to the sofa. Sat close together. He asked, “Did you quit because of Anne Lane?” She said, “Not directly. I mean, not right away. But ultimately, yes. You know how these things are. It’s like a naval convoy where one of the battleships gets holed below the waterline. No visible damage, but it falls a little behind, and then a little more, and it drifts a little off course, and then when the next big engagement comes along it’s completely out of sight. That was me.”
The shoulder seams on her T-shirt stood up a little and made enticing shadowy tunnels.
Reacher, alone in the dark. Armed and dangerous. Invincible.
Reacher, alone in the dark. Armed and dangerous. Coming back.
