Ray and Amy moved off the floor and walked toward the bar for a drink.
Ray kept his head angled just enough to keep Reacher and Dixon in his peripheral vision without giving anything away. It was muscle memory for him by now. He observed, memorized, assessed the situation, and avoided staring. He realized that since he spotted Jack, Jack had also noticed him. This meant Jack would not make any sudden moves.
They reached the bar. Amy leaned one elbow on the counter, posture relaxed. Ray stood beside her with one hand lightly at the small of her back, keeping the picture intact.
"Two old-fashioneds," Amy said to the bartender with a bright smile.
Ray leaned in enough that only Amy could hear. "The tall one's name is Jack Reacher. The woman is Karla Dixon."
Amy blinked. "Never heard of them."
"You're lucky," Ray said. "Most people meet them during a crisis. Usually involving bullets."
The bartender set two glasses down. Ray grabbed both and handed one to Amy.
She nodded thoughtfully. "So they're dangerous?"
"They can be. If they're here, it means someone very bad is about to have a very bad night."
Amy opened her mouth to ask more, but something in Ray's expression shifted.
A woman in her mid-forties with bright red hair and a black party gown walked past Travis. She moved with the tipsy sway of someone who had been drinking for hours, then suddenly her heel twisted. She pitched forward.
It looked real.
But Ray's eyes were on her hands.
Travis's reflexes kicked in. He grabbed her arm, steadying her awkwardly as she murmured apologies and laughed like she was embarrassed.
To anyone else, it was nothing.
To Ray, it was a small performance carried out with expert timing and a very fast hand.
Her hand brushed his jacket pocket for less than half a second. A tiny movement, quick enough that even a camera might miss it.
Ray saw it.
She slipped something into Travis's pocket.
She recovered, thanked him, then wandered toward the balcony as if she had absolutely nothing to hide. Then she started to mingle with a group of ladies.
Amy watched her go and then noticed Ray's expression. She was slightly confused. "What?"
Ray took a sip of his drink. "Sleight of hand. She planted something on him."
"What? When?"
"When she pretended to fall. That woman is professional. Really good one. She does not waste movements. She knew exactly where his pockets were before she even stumbled."
Amy stared after the redhead.
Ray continued, "The only question is whether she works for the dealer or she is the dealer."
Ray glanced at Travis just as the man reached for another drink with trembling hands. He had no idea a stranger had just dropped something into his suit.
Amy shifted closer to Ray, her voice barely audible. "Can you do that too? Maybe pick it out of his pocket... carefully?"
Ray smirked at her before gulping down the drink. He was about to go, but Travis's phone rang. He took the call. It lasted for five seconds. He put his phone back into his pocket and stood up before walking toward the second exit.
Amy and Ray noticed that Jack and Dixon were walking toward the exit. So, they moved first, and they were close to the exit.
"Play with me," Ray said to Amy. "I'm too fucking drunk."
She nodded.
They stepped out of the rooftop party and into the hallway. The music faded behind them. Travis was already halfway to the elevator, his steps uneven. The man looked like someone trying very hard not to look terrified.
Amy and Ray picked up their pace.
Travis jabbed the elevator button repeatedly. The light dinged just as Ray veered sideways.
He slammed shoulder first into Travis with the perfect balance of force and sloppy drunkenness.
"Whoa whoa sorry sorry," Amy blurted, grabbing Ray by the lapels and yanking him back. She gave Travis a mortified smile. "He had too much to drink. I am so sorry."
Travis barely looked at them. "It's fine, I need to go."
He stepped into the elevator. His finger hit the close button before Amy even finished her sentence. Ray stumbled to the wall and dropped to a crouch.
He made a harsh gagging noise.
Amy immediately knelt beside him, rubbing his back in tight circles. "Honey, breathe breathe, you are okay," she said loudly enough for Travis to hear before the doors slid shut.
The elevator doors closed.
Ray straightened instantly.
"Go go go," he said. "Stairs."
Amy sprinted for the stairwell door with Ray right behind her. They ran down the first stairs together before Ray stopped her and pulled a small puzzle box from his pocket.
He gave it to Amy.
"Suite. Now," he said. "Open it very carefully, remember what Holt said?"
"What about you?" Amy asked.
Ray looked up the stairwell. His eyes were fixed on the door above them. Jack Reacher and Karla Dixon were seconds away.
"Someone has to stop Reacher," he said. "Now hurry."
Amy hesitated only one heartbeat, then shoved the box into her clutch and ran. Her heels echoed down the stairs as she disappeared toward their floor.
Ray stayed where he was, back straight, breathing steady, waiting.
The stairwell door above creaked open.
Heavy footsteps.
Reacher.
Light footsteps.
Dixon.
Ray moved one step up and stood in the open, calm and ready as they descended toward him. He took off his jacket and placed it on the railings, before cracking his neck and knuckles.
Reacher slowed the moment he recognized the silhouette waiting halfway down the stairs. Dixon stopped beside him. Both of them stared at Ray like they were seeing an old colleague standing on the wrong side of a battlefield.
Ray rolled his shoulders once, posture open and ready.
Reacher's gaze dropped to the rail where Ray had neatly placed his jacket. "Two against one," he said.
Ray's lips pulled into a slow grin. "I like the odds."
Dixon stepped forward, palm halfway raised in a diplomatic gesture. "Ray, it doesn't have to be like this. We are not here to fight you. We just want the puzzle box."
Ray shook his head, almost apologetic. "Can't give it to you."
"We are not looking to start a fight," Dixon said. "We are trying to stop the dealer. I guess you are also after the dealer. So, same goal."
Ray's expression did not change. "Maybe. Maybe not. But legally, this time, I am doing my job. And if you interfere, I'll be forced to take you both down." He looked at Dixon, tone still calm. "No offence, Dixon. I believe in gender equality. I will kick your butt."
Dixon groaned softly. "Ray, for the love of God. Always with the attitude."
"You do not want to do this," Reacher said as he took a step forward. "Trust me."
Ray shrugged. "Want? No. But I don't see another option. As much as I've enjoyed the past life of rogue missions and off-the-record operations, I left that life behind long ago. So, turn back. Go to the party and enjoy yourself. Don't make me bring out the old me." His expression turned ice-cold. "I kindly request."
Dixon stepped fully beside Reacher now, stance widening.
Reacher moved first, a fast downhill lunge that would have crushed the average man. Dixon was right behind him, using Reacher's bulk as cover. It was synchronized and practiced. They had done this together before.
Ray stepped back just one stair.
Reacher came in with a straight punch meant to stun. Ray slipped sideways. Dixon's heel sliced toward his ribs. He caught her ankle with one hand, redirected her momentum, and forced her into Reacher's path.
Reacher stopped himself with one hand on the rail. Dixon spun out of the way and pivoted low, going for Ray's knee. Ray jumped up a step and her kick hit air. Reacher's follow up swing cut in. Ray ducked under it.
Then Ray turned the fight into a tight-quarters combat.
He targeted Dixon first.
She drove toward him with sharp elbows. Ray parried all of them, hands moving like he was swatting away flies. He stepped in close, twisted her wrist, and folded her arm across her own body. The snap echoed sharply in the stairwell.
"Gaah! Fuck!"
Dixon gasped but stayed on her feet, stubborn and trained not to go down.
Ray didn't give her time to recover. A palm strike hit her elbow the wrong way. That arm went limp. She tried to counter with the other arm. He trapped it, twisted again, and snapped the second forearm in one smooth motion.
Her breath hitched. Pain hit her late. Ray shoved her back.
Then he finished her with a fast jab to the throat. Not a killing blow but a precise strike that crushed her breath and forced her body into an ugly choke. Dixon stumbled, hands rising without coordination, knees giving out.
"Kuggg! Haaa!" She gasped as she dropped hard against the wall, trying to pull air through a throat that barely worked.
Reacher didn't shout or lose his calm.
He just looked at Ray.
Both men stood still for a heartbeat, the kind of pause that happens when two predators size each other up.
Reacher stepped down one stair.
Ray stepped up one.
"Was that necessary?" Reacher asked as he took off his jacket.
"What? Insult her by going easy on her just because she's a woman? I told you. I believe in gender equality," Ray said as he cracked his knuckles again. "Turn back, please. I won't warn you again."
---
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