BooksBarbecue
Back Point of Contact
Chapters (83)
  1. Cover
  2. ALSO BY TOM CLANCY
  3. PRINCIPAL CHARACTERS
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. 57
  61. 58
  62. 59
  63. 60
  64. 61
  65. 62
  66. 63
  67. 64
  68. 65
  69. 66
  70. 67
  71. 68
  72. 69
  73. 70
  74. 71
  75. 72
  76. 73
  77. 74
  78. 75
  79. 76
  80. 77
  81. 78
  82. 79
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

“No, we don’t. It’s nearly ten o’clock. I need to grab a shower so we can get to work.” Jack finished the rest of his coffee and dropped the cup in the stainless-steel sink.

Paul’s eyes narrowed at the blow-off.

Jack turned around, scratching his stubbly beard. “Question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“That file you found, marked ‘QC.’ Did you download a copy?”

“No. Didn’t think about it. Why?”

Jack’s face soured. “Why not?”

“Just forgot. Why?”

“I’m not convinced there isn’t a problem at Dalfan, and I’m afraid that file is all we have to prove it.”

“Okay. We’ll grab a copy when we get to the office.”

Jack rubbed his aching neck. “Any Tylenol around here?”

“There’s Advil in the third drawer on the left.”

“Thanks.” Jack yanked open the drawer, popped open the bottle, and tossed a couple pills into his mouth. He leaned over the sink and drank a few big gulps of water straight from the tap, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“You should see a doctor,” Paul said.

“Heard you the first time, Mom.”

Paul forced a smile. “I hear you.”

“Heading for the shower.” Jack shuffled achingly toward the stairs.

“You sure you’re all right?”

Jack called over his shoulder, “Never better.”

Paul stared after Jack, not at all sure he could trust him for anything anymore, especially the truth.

—

Jack stared at the billowing steam pouring out of the shower, his aching muscles begging to get in. But it suddenly occurred to him that he needed to contact Gavin with that plate number for the truck. Probably a dead end, but it needed to be checked anyway.

He ambled over to his dresser drawer and picked up his phone. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with Gavin at the moment, so he opted for a text. It was late anyway.

Jack typed in the license-plate number as far as he could remember it, SAM 00. He started to hit send, but his sore thumb wavered. Was that the plate number?

No.

He wasn’t sure where he got that from. The truck plate was six digits; he remembered that for sure. He saw the rear plate in his mind’s eye again, racing away from the crash scene. Yeah. It began with an X. He was certain of that. And then he saw the rest.

He smiled to himself, happy his brain was returning to normal. He deleted SAM 00 and typed in the correct plate number. He hit send and headed for the shower, hoping beyond hope that Gavin could find that truck.

—