Page 12 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

“The weapon must have been fitted with a silencer of some sort because I didn’t hear the gunshots,” Kim said, shaking her head. “Ask your cleaners to look for the bullet in case there’s something special about it. Which isn’t likely.”

“Not likely, I agree. And the pathologist can remove the other one. But sure.” Russell sent a third text and then dropped the phone into his pocket.

Russell was younger, bigger, and stronger than Finlay. Which meant Russell had simply brought along a body bag, placed the dead man inside, zipped the bag and lifted the body.

Kim opened the door and followed him down the hallway to the elevator that would take them straight to the helipad on the roof.

Russell had spent not more than five minutes inside Kim’s apartment. Another few minutes to load the waiting helicopter with the body bag and Kim’s travel and laptop bags.

Russell took the co-pilot seat. Kim was seated behind the pilot. They donned headsets and kept chatter to a bare minimum.

The pilot lifted off and they were in the air while Kim’s neighbors should have been sleeping.

She watched as the city of Detroit faded into the distance.

Flight time across Lake Erie from Detroit to Cleveland in the helo would be slightly more than an hour, wheels up to wheels down. A commercial jet would have been faster. But speed wasn’t the most important consideration.

The helo landed atop a low-rise concrete building on the eastern outskirts of Cleveland. An orderly hustled out to the helo pushing a gurney, bending low under the rotor wash, and using hand gestures to convey his words, which were blown away in the noise of the big bird.

Russell stepped to the cargo door, opened it, and pulled the body bag toward him. He and the orderly lifted the body bag on each end and placed it solidly on the gurney.

Kim patted her pockets to confirm she’d lost nothing and then pulled her travel bags from the helo. When she was solidly on the ground, Russell flagged the pilot the all-clear-to-depart.

The orderly pulled the gurney toward the entrance door. He swiped the key card hanging around his neck to open the door.

He pushed the gurney inside and held the door open until Russell and Kim followed, unable to talk loud enough to be heard over the roar of the helo lifting into the night sky.

The heavy door closed behind Kim with a solid clang as the locking mechanism clicked into place. She stood still for a few moments in the surreal silence like a deep-sea diver slowly decompressing before reentry.

“The morgue is this way,” the orderly said, leading the way through a maze of hallways, pushing the gurney forward.

Russell and Kim walked side-by-side behind the orderly until they came to another locked door. This one had a small sign posted on the wall near the door handle: Authorized Personnel Only.

The orderly swiped his key card again to unlock the room. “Can you hold the door open?” he asked Russell.

“Sure,” Russell replied, grabbing the door at a spot several inches above Kim’s head.

The orderly wheeled the gurney inside.

Kim followed into a modern morgue decked out with gleaming stainless steel everywhere. If there was a spec of dirt in the room, she didn’t see it.

Russell had closed the door behind them and caught up just as the orderly parked the gurney beside one of the exam tables.

“I will leave you here. The pathologist is on his way. You won’t need to wait long,” he said, nodding on his way out.

“What is this place? Secret lab or something?” Kim asked, not kidding.

“We’ll find a spot for talking shortly,” Russell said before Kim could ask any more questions. “No ID on this guy. Did you check his pockets and come up empty?”

She nodded. Not quite a lie. Not quite the truth, either.

Russell frowned. “You collected his biometrics back in your apartment, I assume. Have you run everything through the databases?”

Kim shook her head. “Not yet. Haven’t had the chance. I thought you could help with that.”

Russell gave her a knowing look and a firm nod in response. “Let’s see what the doc can tell us. Then we’ll get him identified and go from there.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she replied, just as the mortuary door opened and a man dressed in a white lab coat walked in.

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