Page 44 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

The shooter could be hiding anywhere in the shadows. Kim kept her pistol at the ready, searching while she waited for her partner.

Russell climbed up from the boulders below, sliding along the muddy incline, adjusting his feet for purchase on the muddy embankment. Twice, he slipped down a few feet and struggled to retake the same ground.

When he reached Kim, muddy and shivering, Russell asked, “Where is he?”

“Dunno,” she replied quietly, watching for unnatural movement.

“Did you get a good look at him? A photo, maybe?”

She shrugged. “No such luck.”

The grand finale fireworks shot up from the launch pad. A group of a dozen rockets whistled high into the sky and burst apart in rapid succession. Bright, colored light flooded the hillside as well as the areas above and below it like floodlights.

Kim looked frantically while she could.

When the last of the fireworks had sputtered into darkness and the applause died down, the nighttime lights illuminated again, casting contrasting shadows across the hillside.

She scoured the area again.

The shooter was nowhere. He had simply vanished.

“Let’s go get cleaned up. Catch some sleep.” Russell gestured toward the Rainbow Bridge, the only viable exit point. “There’s CCTV cameras everywhere around here. One of them could have caught a good image of his face. I’ll make some calls. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Kim had already asked Gaspar to search the CCTV. He might have spied something useful, too. But she found no fault with the plan and fell into step with Russell. She continued her vigilant scanning for the tall, thin man.

No luck.

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Chapter 19

Saturday, June 4

New York City, New York

When the text from Fox finally came, Morin was seriously worried. He’d long ago finished his steak, downed another cocktail, and placed five knotted cherry stems on the small square napkin.

A notification finally slid across the dark screen. Morin punched it with his index finger. The message opened instantly.

Only one word:Done.

No photo attached. Meaning no proof of death. Which was absolutely necessary.

Audrey Ruston had wiggled her gorgeous ass right into his head. She was right, dammit. Proof of death was required. Before he reported success to Brax, Morin had to confirm.

He replied:Terminated?

Several long seconds later, Fox sent a thumbs-up emoji.

Still not satisfied, mostly because he knew Brax would demand absolute certainty, Morin replied:Photo?

He waited an interminable number of seconds this time before a photo from Fox finally appeared on the screen.

A photo of what, exactly? Poor quality. Bad lighting. Resolution too low for clarity when he tried to enlarge the image.

Morin could make out only a dark background image, a few darker vertical lines in the foreground, and a barely visible man-sized lump on the ground among them.

The vertical lines could have been legs.

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