Murfreesboro, Arkansas, a small town less than an hour away from Hot Springs, has the most coveted place for those who dream of getting rich every day, Crater of Diamonds State Park.
Jack and his friends passed by here just a few months ago, turned a corner and ran to the neighboring Jesseville County to dig a bunch of natural crystals, but he didn't expect to be back here so soon.
Looking at the big guy beating people in the distance, he shook his head speechlessly and chose to continue watching from the sidelines.
Jack Reacher strode towards a Buick sedan, wrapped his right fist tightly in his coat, and swung it hard, easily shattering the car window glass, and in the process, beat up the old Mexican who was still cursing in the car.
Before the old Mexican could react, his head was pressed down by a big hand and slammed hard on the steering wheel. Then, Reacher pulled his right hand holding the gun out of the car window, placed it on the rearview mirror and twisted it hard.
The sound of a broken bone was accompanied by a scream from the old Mexican. The pistol was already in Reacher's hand. He put the gun on the roof of the car, opened the door and punched the guy several times. Finally, he clamped the door to the guy's calf and kicked it. The Buick's door collapsed a lot. The old Mexican's calf was comminuted and he fainted from the pain without a sound. Reacher looked up and saw a pair of handcuffs in front of him. He couldn't help but be slightly stunned.
Jack picked up the handcuffs with his left hand and handed them to Reacher. With his right hand, he opened the back door of the Buick and carried the little boy who was crying loudly in fear out and handed him to the boy's mother who came in panic.
"It's okay, baby."
The woman with bruises on her face took the little boy who was only five or six years old and cried out, "Honey, it's okay, Mommy is here."
"What happened? Domestic kidnapping or carjacking?" Jack raised an eyebrow at Reacher.
"Carjacking." Reacher handcuffed the unconscious Mexican man, removed the magazine from the pistol on the roof, and tossed it into the car. Then, pointing to the ATM behind him, he said succinctly, "She was withdrawing money in front of me, and this scumbag kidnapped her child."
Jack looked at the wad of cash the woman had just withdrawn and sighed. "Do you know how much it costs to repair a car window and door panels in a small place like this?"
Reacher's expression froze. The cash the woman had just withdrawn looked like a wad of cash, but it was all in 20-dollar denominations, so he estimated it to be at most $500.
"Replacing this window alone will cost at least $200, the film will be $150, and the door panels will be even more."
Jack's words froze Reacher's confident smile. He stared in amazement as the man pulled out a checkbook.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. My companion's impulsiveness caused your loss. I'm not sure if the insurance company will refuse to pay. If this amount is not enough, please contact me."
Jack wrote a check for $500 and handed it to the dazed mother along with his business card. He patted Reacher on the shoulder and was about to leave with him.
"Wait, are you the FBI?" The woman held her son helplessly, and looked at the unconscious Mexican robber lying on the ground.
"I guess so, but this is not a federal case and it's not within our jurisdiction. You can also report my name to the police. There should be someone in the Forrest District Court who still remembers this name."
Jack waved his hand and didn't want the handcuffs.
"How did you find me?" Reacher withdrew $60 from the ATM, and then took Jack to a second-hand clothing store across the street.
"I'm the FBI. Isn't it normal to find your whereabouts?"
Jack looked as if it was a matter of course as he watched Reacher buy a second-hand coat. His original coat was stained with the Mexican man's nosebleed and could no longer be kept. So he found a fast food restaurant to sit down and explain his purpose.
"Do you still remember the name Calvin Franz?"
Reacher paused while chewing his sandwich, narrowed his eyes slightly, and after swallowing the food in his mouth, he asked in a deep voice, "Did something happen to him?"
"About 10 days ago, he disappeared after leaving home. Three days ago, several hikers found his body in the Catskill Mountains. According to the report issued by the CSI Crime Lab, they suspected that Franz was tortured before his death.
The head of the lab used some connections and found out that he had worked in the 110 Special Investigation Team that you led. Then I contacted your brother Joey, and he said that the area code of your phone was in Arkansas when you last contacted him."
Jack took out an anonymous cell phone and threw it to him, "Please turn on your phone at least once a week in the future. I need to leave you a message. Do you know how many people I mobilized to search for the Greyhound bus's on-board surveillance video?"
Reacher casually grabbed a napkin, borrowed a pen from the waitress, and wrote down a number on it.
"This is my pension account. Next time you need help, just transfer $1.10 to it. I can't guarantee that this phone will stay with me for a long time."
Jack put away the tissue speechlessly, looked at the time and urged, "Please eat quickly, the plane won't wait for us too long."
Reacher was stunned when he heard this, "Can your FBI stop the flight to wait for people?"
An FBI agent couldn't help but smile complacently, "Of course, the ones that can wait for people are private business jets."
-
An hour later, Reacher stretched out his long legs very comfortably in the Gulfstream business jet, "I haven't seen you for more than two years. It seems that your career in the FBI is quite successful."
Jack picked up a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the wine cabinet and poured him some. Judging from the age, it should be Rossi's collection.
"I borrowed the BAU's corporate jet. They're currently working a case in New York. But I have my own team now, and I'll have my own soon."
It wasn't a boast, because Reacher didn't care about such things. He lived his life as he pleased, unfettered by anything. Jack was simply saying he could be of some help as a friend, and a very significant one at that.
"I need to understand the case first," Reacher's expression darkened.
"It's all in the file folder right there. I know your style, but I still have to ask, are you planning to investigate this case yourself?" Jack asked, fiddling with his wine glass.
Reacher flipped through the file and replied, seemingly irrelevantly, "When the 110 Special Investigations Unit was established, I personally recruited Franz. We have a motto in our unit: Don't mess with the special investigators."
"Okay," Jack shrugged, pulling a small box from his pocket and opening it. Inside were two denture-like retainers soaked in saline.
He stuffed the fixing blocks into his mouth, one on each side, and clamped them around his back teeth. His cheeks were immediately stretched out, forming a square jaw. Then, as Reacher looked at him in astonishment, he put on a fake beard.
(End of this chapter)