Chapter 174: Bait
"It's not bait, just giving them a reason to act. The Klein family might be able to bribe the local police and even the Georgia State Police, but since they dared to target Joey, a federal agent, it shows they aren't all-powerful."
"So the people hunting us won't be too many. As long as we act quickly and arrange for reinforcements, we can do this."
Jack didn't dare to be overly confident, especially after the initial failures that landed the Wolf brothers in the hospital.
Reacher stood up eagerly. "I agree, we need to do something. Only then will they feel pressured and make mistakes."
The other two had no objections, so the four of them split up. Roscoe went alone to Paul Hebberg's house to persuade his wife, Charlie.
Finley went to the town council to observe Mayor and newly appointed Police Chief Tiller's performance in front of the townspeople, and to mislead him.
Jack and Reacher went to trouble the old prison guard, Officer Tanner Spear, asking him to pass on some information to his superiors.
"So, how do you plan to find that prison guard?" Jack asked Reacher as he drove.
"How about a phone call? I just had Finley get his number. Let's set up a meeting." Reacher pulled out his phone as he spoke.
"Tanner Spear, this is Detective Finley from the Margrave Police Department. I'm calling about Jack Reacher. Yes, he's very angry. He said he was mistreated in your prison and now wants to sue."
"He's your prisoner, and I don't want to lose my job over this. Can we meet somewhere before the lawyers get involved? Alright, we'll see you in half an hour."
After Reacher hung up, Jack was puzzled. "Is that guy an idiot? He fell for that?"
Reacher smirked. "Who said he fell for it? I'm setting a trap, and he's doing the same to me."
"Why do you always have to act like a tough guy without a smile? You should smile more. Maybe Roscoe won't make you sleep on the floor next time."
Jack mocked Reacher's stoic demeanor.
Half an hour later, in the alley behind a bar called "Blue Hole," Spear, whose hair was mostly white and dressed in shabby casual clothes, waited alone.
"Hey, Spear," Reacher approached from a distance.
"Ha ha, look who it is." Spear wasn't surprised at all upon seeing Reacher, instead, he put on a fierce look.
"I've never met this Detective Finley, but I've heard of him. You definitely don't sound like a Black guy from Boston over the phone."
He spat on the ground in disgust. "Since you set me up, I'll return the favor."
With a whistle, a black Mercedes parked in the backyard started and pulled up to them. Two small, tough-looking Latinos got out, pointing guns at Reacher.
One of them opened the trunk, indicating for Reacher to climb in.
"Enjoy, ha ha, fool. In prison, you should've let those guys finish you off. It would've hurt less."
Spear was about to turn back into the bar when he suddenly raised his hands in panic and stepped back.
The two Latinos sensed something wrong and turned to see Jack holding a gun to Spear's head. At the same time, Reacher quickly disarmed them.
"You don't want to make a big scene, do you?"
Reacher quickly disassembled their Glock 17s into pieces and tossed them on the ground, then twisted his neck like a villain, producing a series of cracking sounds.
"Hurry up, Reacher. We have a lot to do."
Jack waved his FK 7.5, signaling Spear to behave. On the other side, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and groans echoed.
Reacher easily took down one of them, but the other surprisingly held out for three minutes before being subdued.
"What's wrong with you? Hungry and out of strength?" Jack asked in surprise, puzzled by Reacher's fluctuating combat prowess.
"They're not ordinary people. They're South American soldiers, trained in martial arts only found in some special forces in South America."
Reacher grimaced as he rubbed his bleeding cheek, having taken a punch earlier.
"Alright, now tell me honestly, who ordered you to target us? Klein or his son, Little Klein?"
Seeing the still menacing big guy standing in front of him and the two groaning South Americans behind him, Spear's legs started shaking involuntarily.
"Don't, don't hit me. It was Klein. He just wanted me to warn Paul Hebberg. We didn't mean to kill you. I swear."
With the answer, the two turned and left, leaving Spear, who had wet his pants, and the two South Americans writhing in pain on the ground.
"Take me with you, please. Little Klein won't let me go. He's crazy!"
——
"Fried chicken drumsticks, fried okra, charcoal-grilled ribs, collard greens, sausage gravy rice, country cheese with peaches, creamy chicken sandwich with coleslaw. Enjoy, babies."
A plump Black lady brought two heaping plates to Jack and Reacher, smiling happily.
"Thank you," Jack and Reacher said in unison, devouring the food.
The lady then turned serious, grabbed a small dish, and placed it in front of Finley.
"This is your spinach salad, add the dressing yourself."
Finley, who had received a glare from the lady, awkwardly tried to save face. "I can understand the big guy, but how do you manage to eat so much and not gain weight?"
Jack lifted his T-shirt slightly to reveal his eight-pack abs and patted them. "I can go toe-to-toe with him. Do you believe it?"
They were at a barbecue spot in the park outside town, a place Finley recommended. Jack hadn't had a proper meal in two days and was now drooling over the meat.
Finley stirred his salad without much appetite and said, "Tiller is calling Morrison's murder a revenge killing, trying to keep me running in circles with his little baton, wasting time."
"I told you, he's corrupt too," Reacher responded while eating.
"The town council is unhappy with him appointing himself as police chief. Someone requested FBI involvement, but it was suppressed. Klein stood up for him on the spot."
Finley sighed helplessly. "I feel like even if I stood up and told the truth, people would think I'm some conspiracy nut."
"Klein is their bread and butter. No one will believe an outsider like you, especially since you never fit in here."
Jack happily bit into a big piece of rib, oil dripping from his mouth.
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