"Anna? Why are you here?" Jack frantically pulled two incredibly long legs from his waist.
His tactical vest was not only covered in bulletproof plates but also crammed with magazines, stun grenades, and a whole lot of other miscellaneous items. And yet, this girl just clung to him, unfazed.
This girl looked even prettier. A few tiny scars still lingered on her temples; she wondered where she'd had her micro-plastic surgery, but the results were quite impressive.
Most importantly, her figure had plumped up, her two soft, round breasts looking less artificial and more like she'd simply gained weight.
"Someone said you might need help, so I reluctantly left the warm sunshine and beaches of Hainan and rushed to this freezing New York to curry favor with my future boss."
Anna clung to Jack's arm, refusing to let go, her whole body pressed against him.
"Have you seriously considered my proposal?" Jack felt the pleasant touch of his arm, and a certain urge to act was palpable. He had just been through a battle.
"I've spent all my money. If I don't want to starve to death, I have no choice but to work for a ruthless boss. I just hope he doesn't exploit me too much."
Anna fluttered her long, curled eyelashes, feigning a pitiful expression. It seemed this young woman had become more lively after her rebirth, her true nature coming through.
"Frank contacted you?" Jack whispered in her ear.
"He found this middleman, interrogated him, and handed him over to me, asking me to bring him to you." Anna leaned in to whisper in Jack's ear, her moist lips brushing against his earlobe.
Someone gasped, and with a tremendous effort of willpower, pushed the girl away. Then, facing the crowd's intriguing gazes, she nodded sternly at Reacher, as if nothing had happened.
"This is Anna, a friend of mine. I asked her to help find 'AM'."
Everyone gave them a look of "we'll just listen to your nonsense," but now wasn't the time to delve into the details. They turned and escorted the man in the trench coat back inside.
With a clang, the man in the trench coat entered the room, dumped his large suitcase on the floor, and knelt swiftly, raising his right hand obediently. "There must be some misunderstanding here. I don't know any of you."
"What's wrong with your hand?" Reacher pointed the muzzle of his gun at his bloodied, drooping left hand.
The man in the trench coat was somewhat handsome, short but well-proportioned, even possessing a somewhat refined demeanor. If those present didn't know he was an arms dealer, they would likely mistake him for a successful businessman, doctor, or even a scholar.
"Someone tried to get me to tell them who the real buyer of these missiles was, but I told them it would ruin my reputation and my business." The man in the trench coat struggled to roll up his sleeve, which was wrapped in a thick bandage, now completely stained red with blood.
"Then he peeled off a whole section of skin on my left arm."
"Hiss, that sounds like it would hurt." O'Donnell said this, but his expression was one of gloating, "And then you said it?"
"He didn't even ask me a second time." The man in the windbreaker even had a hint of resentment on his face, "After I confessed, he gave me an injection and asked me to follow the lady to the transaction location as planned."
He pointed to the big suitcase on the ground, "I humbly beg you to let me go, I need to go to the hospital immediately, the effect of the anesthetic has begun to wear off.
There are 65 million US dollars in bearer bonds there, all yours, I just hope you can let me go."
"You killed our friends." Reacher put his hand on the table, next to him were the two loaded "Little Wing" anti-aircraft missiles, "Just for these things, they were killed."
Seeing O'Donnell take out the glass jar containing Swan's eyeballs and fingers from the first aid kit and put it on the table, together with the missiles and chips, the man in the windbreaker was frightened and retreated several steps on his knees in fear.
"I understand how you feel, but it wasn't me. I haven't met your friends, I don't even know them."
Reacher pointed his gun at him. "But we know you, and you're clearly well aware of the whole story. Langston must have told you everything, right? How he dealt with all those troubles you had."
"Arrest me, please, hand me over to the police." Realizing the situation was dire, the man in the trench coat almost threw himself on the ground and begged.
"None of this has anything to do with me. I'm just the middleman. This is business, nothing to do with it."
Hearing this familiar voice, Jack scratched his ears speechlessly. "Reacher, it's almost dawn. Don't keep our guests waiting in the barn too long."
"Bang!" A puff of smoke erupted from Reacher's pistol, followed by a burst of gunfire. Dixon, O'Donnell, and Negley all pulled the trigger.
Jack lifted a box from the table. Inside were 648 chips installed with the "Little Wing" software. The remaining two chips had already been installed in two launchers by engineers.
Loading an air defense missile is much more complicated than loading a rocket launcher, but installing a chip is simple. As Marlo Burns, the operations director of New Era Technology, said, ordinary people can learn it after watching it twice.
Reacher walked over to the body, picked up the large suitcase worth $6,500, opened it, and peered inside. He nodded to Jack and was the first to leave the house.
Behind him, Dixon and Negley each carried an anti-aircraft missile launcher. O'Donnell stuffed a glass jar into his arms and stuffed a few cans of beer from the refrigerator into his coat pockets. He was the last to leave the house.
When they arrived at the barn, the female Ranger had already come out, still smiling. "Judging from the gunfire, we shouldn't have to worry about anyone."
Before she finished speaking, her suspicious gaze fell on Anna, who was following Jack closely.
"This is also the private investigator I called in for help," Jack continued to talk nonsense.
The female Ranger's lips curled into a sneer. "So now we have the last two people left. What are you going to do with them?"
She opened the barn door. Kneeling inside were the helicopter pilot and the New Age Technology engineer, shivering as two other bodyguards pointed guns at their heads. It was unclear whether they were cold, frightened, or both.
"Hey, guys, I didn't kill anyone, and I had nothing to do with those missiles. I'm just a helicopter pilot, doing my job."
The pilot begged for mercy upon seeing Reacher, still radiating murderous intent.
The large man remained silent, unwilling to speak. Franz, Sanchez, and Orozco were all thrown from that helicopter by Lanston, and the pilot said he had nothing to do with it.
"What about you?" Jack asked the bald engineer kneeling beside him with a smile.
The engineer's eyes flickered. "I was only asked to teach them how to install the chips. I have no idea who these weapons were purchased for or what they were going to be used for. Please, I was wrong, but I'm just an engineer following orders."
"Get out of here, both of you." Reacher pointed expressionlessly at the Super Puma helicopter in the distance.
"Thank you!"
"Thank you!"
The two men hurriedly stood up and ran out of the barn, running towards the helicopter. The two bodyguards standing behind them exchanged glances, then looked at the female Ranger.
The female Ranger tilted her head at Negley and Dixon, who were carrying portable anti-aircraft missiles, indicating that they should continue to watch the show.
The special agents leisurely drank beer and watched the helicopter take off. Jack coughed and warned, "That's about it. We might miss if we're too far away."
"Roger that." Negley helped Dixon with his launcher, shouldered his own, and the two of them walked out of the barn, followed by the others. Snowflakes began to fall from the sky. Anna wrapped her coat tighter around her and hugged Jack's arm again, muttering, "I hate snow. My parents had a car accident on a snowy night."
Jack, who had been trying to pull his arm free, froze at that, sighing and giving up the struggle.
"Fire in the hole!" the two women shouted in unison, pressing the triggers hard.
Two lines of fire shot up into the sky, one in front and one behind, swooping down towards the helicopter, which was less than 500 meters away.
"I'll bet this last beer that the helicopter will get out safely," O'Donnell said, crushing the can in his hand and pulling the last beer from his pocket.
"Who knows, maybe it will be useful." Before Jack finished speaking, two lines of fire brushed past the helicopter.
"No hurry, wait and see." Reacher raised his eyebrows slightly, watching the two lines of fire draw two beautiful arcs in the air, and actually turned around and flew back towards the helicopter.
"Wow, it looks like this thing is real." Before O'Donnell finished speaking, he saw one of the missiles make a small firework in the air with a puff, and then it disappeared without a trace.
Just when everyone was feeling quite regretful, another missile hit the tail of the "Super Puma" directly. It did not explode, but it smashed the entire tail rotor directly.
Watching the helicopter emit a burst of black smoke, fall to the ground in a spin and burn into a pile of scrap metal, everyone's expressions were a little hard to describe, but before anyone could express their thoughts, the sound of bullets being loaded came from behind them.
(End of this chapter)