'No way!'Andy cried. A sudden and horribly intense paranoia swept over him. They could be here already! Bullshit cronies creeping through those trees! Bullshit cronies driving down Little Bitch Road in a line of trucks! Now that Chef had brought it up, he even saw why Rennie would want to do it. He'd call it: 'getting rid of the evidence.'
'Chef!' He gripped his new friend's shoulder.
'Let up a little, Sanders. That hurts.'
He let up a little. 'Big Jim's already talked about coming up and getting the propane tanks - that's the first stepV
Chef nodded. 'They've already been here once. Took two tanks. I let em.' He paused, then patted the grenades. 'I won't let em again. Are you down with that?'
Andy thought of the pounds of dope inside the building they were leaning against, and gave the answer Chef had expected. 'My brother,' he said, and embraced Chef.
Chef was hot and stinky, but Andy hugged with enthusiasm. Tears were rolling down his face, which he had neglected to shave on a weekday for the first time in over twenty years. This was great. This was... was...
Bonding!
'My brother,' he sobbed into Chef's ear.
Chef thrust him back and looked at him solemnly.'We are agents of the Lord,' he said.
And Andy Sanders - now all alone in the world except for the scrawny prophet beside him - said amen.
23
Jackie found Ernie Calvert behind his house, weeding his garden. She was a little worried about approaching him in spite of what she'd told Piper, but she needn't have been. He gripped her shoulders with hands that were surprisingly strong for such a portly little man. His eyes shone.
'Thank God someone sees what that windbag's up to!' He dropped his hands. 'Sorry. I smudged your blouse.'
'That's all right.'
'He's dangerous, Officer Wettington.You know that, don't you?'
'Yes.'
'And clever. He set up that damned food riot the way a terrorist would plant a bomb.'
'I have no doubt of it.'
'But he's also stupid. Clever and stupid is a terrible combin-? ation. You can persuade people to go with you, you see. All the way to hell. Look at that fellow Jim Jones, remember him?'
'The one who got all his followers to drink poison. So you'll come to the meeting?'
'You bet. And mum's the word. Unless you want me to talk to Lissa Jamieson, that is. Glad to do it.'
Before Jackie could answer, her cell phone rang. It was her personal; she had turned in the one issued to her by the PD along with her badge and gun.
'Hello, this is Jackie.'
'Mihi portatoe vulneratos, Sergeant Wettington,' an unfamiliar voice said.
The motto of her old unit in Wiirzburg - bring me your wounded - and Jackie responded without even thinking:'On stretchers, crutches, or in bags, we put em together with spit and rags. Who the hell is this?'
'Colonel James Cox, Sergeant.'
Jackie moved the phone away from her mouth. 'Give me a minute, Ernie?'
He nodded and went back to his garden. Jackie strolled toward the shakepole fence at the foot of the yard. 'What can I do for you, Colonel? And is this line secure?'
'Sergeant, if your man Rennie can tap cell phone calls made from beyond the Dome, we're in a world of hurt.'
'He's not my man.'
'Good to know.'
'And I'm no longer in the Army. The Sixty-seventh isn't even in my rearview mirror these days, sir.'
'Well, that's not exactly true, Sarge. By order of the President of the United States, you've been stop-lossed. Welcome back.'
'Sir, I don't know whether to say thank you or f**k you very much.'
Cox laughed without much humor. 'Jack Readier says hello.'
'Is that where you got this number?',
'That and a recommendation. A recommendation from Reacher goes a long way. You asked what you can do for me. The answer is twofold, both parts simple. One, get Dale Barbara out of the mess he's in. Unless you think he's guilty of the charges?'
'No, sir. I'm sure he's not. That is to say, we are. There are several of us.'
'Good. Very good.' There was no mistaking the relief in the man's voice. 'Number two, you can knock that bastard Rennie off his perch.'
'That would be Barbie's job. If... you're positive this line's secure?'
'Positive.'
'If we can get him out.'
'That's in work, is it?*
'Yes, sir, I believe so.'
'Excellent. How many brownshirts does Rennie have?'
'Currently about thirty, but he's still hiring. And here in The Mill they're blueshirts, but I take your meaning. Don't sell him short, Colonel. He's got most of this town in his pocket. We're going to try to get Barbie out, and you better hope we succeed, because I can't do much about Big Jim on my own. Toppling dictators with no help from the outside world is about six miles above my pay grade. And just FYI, my own days on the Chester's Mill PD are over. Rennie shitcanned me.'
'Keep me informed when and as you can. Spring Barbara and turn your resistance operation over to him. We'll see who ends up getting shitcanned.'
'Sir, you sort of wish you were in here, don't you?'
'With all my heart.' No hesitation. 'I'd dewheel that sonofabitch's little red wagon in about twelve hours.'
Jackie doubted that, actually; things were different under the Dome. Outsiders couldn't: understand. Even time was different. Five days ago, everything had been normal. Now look.
'One other thing,' Colonel Cox said. 'Take some time out of your busy schedule to look at the TV. We're going to do our level best to make Rennie's life uncomfortable.'
Jackie said goodbye and broke the connection. Then she walked back to where Ernie was gardening. 'Got a generator?' she asked.
'Died last night,' he said with sour good cheer.
'Well, let's go someplace where there's a working TV. My friend says we should check out the news.'
They headed for Sweetbriar Rose. On their way they met Julia Shumway and brought her along.