Page 110 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

He pulled a rectangular box about the size of a large tablet from his pocket.

He held the tablet in his right hand while he balanced the disk in his left palm. He held his left arm up and away from his body.

Using his right thumb, he tapped the screen of the tablet and the drone rose into the air.

The pewter-colored drone was difficult to see in the gray and foggy atmosphere.

As the drone rose higher, Stuart was unencumbered by its weight and free to run forward at a faster pace.

Faster than Morin could comfortably follow.

The distance between Morin and Stuart widened.

Morin retrieved his phone and called his operatives. “He’s in the clearing just west of the big cross. He’s launched the drone. It could be armed. Stay alert.”

“You’re saying he could kill us with that thing?” the operative replied incredulously.

“And you wouldn’t even know he’d fired,” Morin said flatly. “The weapon has sophisticated software to locate and lock onto the target. It carries a variable payload. Shoots bombs, bullets, darts, or poison. If he chooses bullets, you’ll be dead before I can reach you.”

The operative paused to absorb the intel. “We can’t get the car down the hill to his present location. What do you want us to do?”

“Keep track of him. If I’m right about his intentions, he’ll come up to the overlook. Don’t let him reach the road. Failing that, don’t let him hitch a ride.”

“So you’re saying we should terminate him instead of letting him get away?”

“Certainly not.” Morin’s frustration had been building with every moment. He might actually explode. “I want him alive. Unharmed. And don’t damage the damned drone!”

Morin slammed the phone into his pocket and began to run toward Stuart.

He kept the drone in sight.

He watched the ground for traps.

He never lost sight of Stuart.

But he was breathing heavily, raggedly. Losing speed.

The distance between him and Stuart and the drone continued to widen.

He couldn’t win this contest.

Stuart was younger, fitter, and knew where the hell he was going.

Morin stopped running, breathing hard, and glanced around wildly for a better alternative.

Which was when he saw headlights approaching from the south. A car coming along the ridge road on the east side of the gorge. Headed toward Hamilton.

Between Morin’s position and the ridge road was the gaping deep gorge.

On the north side of the gorge a retaining rail ran alongside a paved walkway.

The walkway snaked along the ridge maybe five feet from the edge. From the ridge road side of the gorge and the far side of the lookout point where the tall lighted cross perched.

The drone was flying across the open air above the gorge, headed toward the ridge road.

Liam was running along the west side of the deep slope.

The approaching car stopped on the road, across the gorge from Liam’s position.

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