Page 85 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

First, the driver was not a man.

Second, the woman held a pistol gripped in her right hand. She carried the weapon as if she’d had a great deal of experience with guns.

None of this was good.

Not the sedan, the headlights, the woman.

Or the gun.

Liam’s thoughts had jumbled together and he sorted quickly through the few options he could think of given the pressure building in his head.

The Stiletto 100 was very heavy now. He couldn’t set it safely on the ground amid the underbrush.

So he stood there making both himself and the drone as invisible as possible, trembling with the effort.

What would the woman do?

What would he do?

Answers to both questions were beyond him.

With no alternatives popping into his mind, Liam continued to watch her from afar. She raised her weapon, holding it at the ready. Liam had no doubt she could shoot and hit her bullseye.

First, she walked around his SUV peering into each window.

Of course, she saw nothing remarkable inside. The SUV was a rental, too. He’d left no personal possessions inside.

Morin had instructed him to pick up a vehicle in Toronto in preparation for the Ottawa parade.

Of course, those instructions were not applicable. But Liam thought they made sense. So he’d followed the protocol.

He’d left his personal SUV in the airport parking lot.

And now he was glad he’d been especially careful. Because this woman with her gun would find nothing in that rental to identify him or the Stiletto 100.

The drone was small but awkward. Thinking about the drone reminded him that he’d been holding it for a long while.

He struggled with the weight.

He couldn’t set it down here in the woods. The ground was rough, uneven, littered with debris of all sorts.

If the Stiletto 100 prototype were damaged, Morin would have his head. Rightfully so. The FQT could not be compromised under any circumstances. Damage to the Stiletto was not an option.

The woman finished her inspection of Liam’s rental and prepared to breach the cabin. Or whatever she’d have called breaking into the place.

She held her gun as if she meant business.

She stepped carefully toward the warped plank door, swiveling her head to and fro as if she expected to be ambushed or something.

Which might have been amusing under different circumstances, he supposed.

Exactly what did she plan to do next?

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Chapter 33

Saturday, June 4

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