The world of American TV series: Starting with the L.A. Patrol.

Everyone went home, and Jack arranged for Reacher to stay upstairs in the office of the Most Wanted Criminals Team, with the room right across from his.

"It's very private and safe here. People outside have always thought it was an insurance agency." There aren't many things in the guest rooms, but they are usually cleaned and you can move in at any time.

Reacher pulled out his only luggage, a toothbrush, from his pocket and placed it on the sink in the bathroom, looking slightly confused.

"You guys are also involved in intelligence work? Why are you so cautious?"

"No, just think of it as my quirk." Jack briefly talked about his house that was blown up, and then elaborated on his safety philosophy about the importance of protecting the people around you.

"Whether they are drug lords or terrorists, I don't hesitate to speculate their actions with the greatest malice. Even the industrial zone in Margrave Town has now set up a factory protection team just to prevent those South American drug traffickers from making a comeback."

When Reacher heard a familiar place, he subconsciously opened his mouth, but didn't know how to respond.

"You haven't been back to visit, have you? Roscoe is still single now." Jack teased, taking out two bottles of beer from the refrigerator. These were Clay and Jubal's stock.

Reacher took the beer and chose to remain silent. Jack smiled and didn't continue the topic. The big guy's personality was actually quite weird. He was obviously a man who valued friendship and loyalty, but he chose to wander around the world alone.

"Who died in the car accident?" After a long silence, Reacher suddenly asked.

"It should be the oldest among you, Larry, who died in a car accident in Montana two years ago. Did the army really hurt you so deeply that you completely cut off contact with your former military colleagues?" Jack asked curiously.

"Of course not. I just got tired of the army's rules and regulations and wanted to enjoy a completely free journey. I didn't expect they didn't inform me." Reacher unscrewed the bottle cap with his hand and took a sip of cold beer.

"Without an address or a phone number, do you think everyone is as good at finding people as we, the FBI?" Jack said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Do you know if there are any gangs nearby? I need a gun." Reacher took the initiative to change the subject.

"I don't think you're planning on spending money on an unnumbered pistol." Jack curled his lips and waved for him to follow him.

The two came to the garage downstairs, a part of which had been converted by Jack into a small indoor shooting range, which also served as the "arsenal" of the wanted criminal team.

"These guns have no serial numbers, and their ballistic data does not exist in any database, so you can use them with confidence." Jack handed Reacher a brand new Glock 20, two spare magazines and a box of 10mm AUTO bullets.

"I like this gun." Reacher grinned, picked up the gun, checked it briefly, raised his hand and shot at the target in the distance, hitting the bull's eye.

Jack, who had guessed that he would do this, hurriedly put on noise-canceling earmuffs as he handed him the gun. Seeing this scene, he shook his head speechlessly.

After Reacher put the gun back into his waist with satisfaction, the two returned to the first floor. Jack opened the back door, and they each had a bottle of beer and a cigar, sat on the rocking chair under the porch, and began to stare at the small vegetable garden behind.

After a while, Jack broke the silence, "It seems that you are still enjoying your life now."

"It's free enough, which is good. I don't need to work now, and I don't need to deal with my superiors. You know, those companies are no different from the military. It's like locking people in cages." Reacher's expression was indifferent.

Jack shrugged. "It seems that each of us has a different definition of freedom. I think I am quite free now.

It's been several years. I'm surprised you haven't gotten tired of this vagabond life. You must have traveled all over the country, right? It's a pity that Greyhound Bus doesn't have the mileage accumulation business like the airlines. "

Reacher smiled. "Arkansas is my last stop in the Southern States. If you hadn't come to find me, I might have jumped on a train to the North by now."

"You've also been a 'Bos'?" Jack was a little surprised. He had learned this term from a railway policeman.

"Yes, it was very frequent for a while, until one day the freight train I was riding accidentally derailed. Then I gradually gave up this unsafe way of travel and switched to hitchhiking and taking Greyhound buses." Speaking of this, Reacher still had a hint of luck on his face.

"That sounds even more unsafe," Jack muttered. "I mean, aren't the drivers afraid of a big guy like you?"

"Actually, they're quite interesting sometimes, and they even share their food with me," Reacher grinned.

"You're just lucky." Jack said with a wicked grin. Nowadays, there are too many guys with unique tastes in the United States. It's not only beautiful girls who encounter danger when hitchhiking.

But this guy has reached the highest level of "budget travel". Most people can't live so freely.

Jack also talked about his experiences in the past two years and the various cases he had taken over. Some were satisfying and made people feel very relieved, while others were tragic and made people feel uncomfortable and unhappy.

As he spoke, he observed the big guy's expression. Although Reacher just listened quietly most of the time, he could occasionally catch a glimpse of yearning and longing in his eyes, but it quickly disappeared, making people wonder if it was just an illusion.

Jack had an idea and a smile appeared on his face. "If you travel all over the country one day, would you be interested in visiting other countries?"

Reacher raised his eyebrows, seeming to be very interested in his suggestion, "What do you want to say?"

"For example, Malaysia in the north, Mexico in the south, or the American countries further south. In the future, it can also include Europe, Africa and even Asia."

Reacher looked at him suspiciously, "What do you want me to do for you?"

"It's just setting up some small businesses, such as buying a small house in a big city in some country and hiring people to maintain it regularly. It won't waste too much of your time. Later on, it will be handed over to a few companies for management. You only need to be responsible for some of the early work."

This was what Jack had intended to ask Anna to do before, but based on the principle of not putting all your eggs in one basket, he planned to assign this task to different people.

"I hate dressing up like a business person in a suit to meet people."

Reacher's words actually surprised and delighted Jack that the big guy didn't refuse immediately.

"You just need to wave checks and sign contracts. You don't need to wear a suit. I need to build some safe houses for emergencies, just like this one, so that my guys and I can have a place to sleep peacefully when we are on missions outside.

And you don’t need to report to me all the time, you can go wherever you want, and just give me a call when you pass by some big cities.”

"If I want to go abroad someday, I will consider your suggestion." Reacher did not say anything definite.

"OK, tell me when you've thought about it. I know you advocate a minimalist lifestyle, but there's no need to really treat yourself as a homeless person. At least when you can't find a motel, you can consider staying in a regular hotel instead of sleeping on an unattended boat at the dock."

Jack really admires the big guy. Such a "free" life usually only appears in the works of novelists. It sounds romantic, but only those who have experienced it know.

The two people who had not seen each other for a long time chatted until late at night. Jack also asked about the reasons and consequences of the disbandment of the 110 Special Investigation Team.

It's a pretty old-fashioned story. They were investigating a case in which someone in the military used a transport plane to smuggle drugs into the country. The special investigators noticed a clue by calculating the fuel consumption of the transport plane and discovered that someone had hidden the drugs in the spare tire of a Hummer.

Just when they were about to close the case, they encountered obstruction from the top. A colonel who was about to be promoted to general and transferred to a base in South Korea to enjoy life did not want the case to involve too many people, so he directly ordered Reacher to close the case to cover up the scandal.

Reacher and his men chose to disobey orders, and as a result the case was solved, the scandal was reported in the newspapers, and the 110 Special Investigation Team was disbanded on the spot for disobeying orders from their superiors. Everyone, including Reacher, was forced to retire.

"How did you find yourself such a group of idealists in this day and age?" Jack asked curiously.

"I personally selected and trained them." When talking about his old subordinates, Reacher's expression was somewhat complicated, the most of which was guilt, but there was no regret.