Die Trying
A Jack Reacher Novel
(Sprache: Englisch)
Jack Reacher finds himself in bad company in the second novel in Lee Child s #1 New York Times bestselling series.
DON'T MISS REACHER ON PRIME VIDEO!
Jack Reacher is an innocent bystander when he witnesses a woman kidnapped off a Chicago street...
DON'T MISS REACHER ON PRIME VIDEO!
Jack Reacher is an innocent bystander when he witnesses a woman kidnapped off a Chicago street...
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Jack Reacher finds himself in bad company in the second novel in Lee Child s #1 New York Times bestselling series.DON'T MISS REACHER ON PRIME VIDEO!
Jack Reacher is an innocent bystander when he witnesses a woman kidnapped off a Chicago street in broad daylight. In the wrong place at the wrong time, he s kidnapped with her. Chained together, locked in the back of a stifling van, and racing across America to an unknown destination for an unknown purpose, they re at the mercy of a group of men demanding an impossible ransom. Because this mysterious woman is worth more than Reacher ever suspected. Now he has to save them both from the inside out or die trying....
Lese-Probe zu „Die Trying “
1NATHAN RUBIN DIED because he got brave. Not the sustained kind of thing that wins you a medal in a war, but the split-second kind of blurting outrage that gets you killed on the street.
He left home early, as he always did, six days a week, fifty weeks a year. A cautious breakfast, appropriate to a short round man aiming to stay in shape through his forties. A long walk down the carpeted corridors of a lakeside house appropriate to a man who earned a thousand dollars on each of those three hundred days he worked. A thumb on the button of the garage-door opener and a twist of the wrist to start the silent engine of his expensive imported sedan. A CD into the player, a backward sweep into his gravel driveway, a dab on the brake, a snick of the selector, a nudge on the gas, and the last short drive of his life was under way. Six forty-nine in the morning, Monday.
The only light on his route to work was green, which was the proximate cause of his death. It meant that as he pulled into his secluded slot behind his professional building the prelude ahead of Bach s B Minor Fugue still had thirty-eight seconds left to run. He sat and heard it out until the last organ blast echoed to silence, which meant that as he got out of his car the three men were near enough for him to interpret some kind of intention in their approach. So he glanced at them. They looked away and altered course, three men in step, like dancers or soldiers. He turned toward his building. Started walking. But then he stopped. And looked back. The three men were at his car. Trying the doors.
Hey! he called.
It was the short universal sound of surprise, anger, challenge. The sort of instinctive sound an earnest, naive citizen makes when something should not be happening. The sort of instinctive sound which gets an earnest, naive citizen killed. He found himself heading straight back to his car. He was outnumbered three to one, but he was in the right, which
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swelled him up and gave him confidence. He strode back and felt outraged and fit and commanding.
But those were illusory feelings. A soft suburban guy like him was never going to be in command of a situation like that. His fitness was just health club tone. It counted for nothing. His tight abdominals ruptured under the first savage blow. His face jerked forward and down and hard knuckles pulped his lips and smashed his teeth. He was caught by rough hands and knotted arms and held upright like he weighed nothing at all. His keys were snatched from his grasp and he was hit a crashing blow on the ear. His mouth filled with blood. He was dropped onto the blacktop and heavy boots smashed into his back. Then his gut. Then his head. He blacked out like a television set in a thunder-storm. The world just disappeared in front of him. It collapsed into a thin hot line and sputtered away to nothing.
So he died, because for a split second he got brave. But not then. He died much later, after the split second of bravery had faded into long hours of wretched gasping fear, and after the long hours of fear had exploded into long minutes of insane screaming panic.
JACK REACHER STAYED alive, because he got cautious. He got cautious because he heard an echo from his past. He had a lot of past, and the echo was from the worst part of it.
He had served thirteen years in the Army, and the only time he was wounded it wasn t with a bullet. It was with a fragment of a Marine sergeant s jawbone. Reacher had been stationed in Beirut, in the U.S. compound out by the airport. The compound was truck-bombed. Reacher was standing at the gate. The Marine sergeant was standing a hundred yards nearer the explosion. The jawbone fragment was the only piece left of the guy. It hit Reacher a hundred yards away and went tumbling through his gut like a bullet. The Army surgeon who patched Reacher up told him afterward he was lucky. He told him a real bullet
But those were illusory feelings. A soft suburban guy like him was never going to be in command of a situation like that. His fitness was just health club tone. It counted for nothing. His tight abdominals ruptured under the first savage blow. His face jerked forward and down and hard knuckles pulped his lips and smashed his teeth. He was caught by rough hands and knotted arms and held upright like he weighed nothing at all. His keys were snatched from his grasp and he was hit a crashing blow on the ear. His mouth filled with blood. He was dropped onto the blacktop and heavy boots smashed into his back. Then his gut. Then his head. He blacked out like a television set in a thunder-storm. The world just disappeared in front of him. It collapsed into a thin hot line and sputtered away to nothing.
So he died, because for a split second he got brave. But not then. He died much later, after the split second of bravery had faded into long hours of wretched gasping fear, and after the long hours of fear had exploded into long minutes of insane screaming panic.
JACK REACHER STAYED alive, because he got cautious. He got cautious because he heard an echo from his past. He had a lot of past, and the echo was from the worst part of it.
He had served thirteen years in the Army, and the only time he was wounded it wasn t with a bullet. It was with a fragment of a Marine sergeant s jawbone. Reacher had been stationed in Beirut, in the U.S. compound out by the airport. The compound was truck-bombed. Reacher was standing at the gate. The Marine sergeant was standing a hundred yards nearer the explosion. The jawbone fragment was the only piece left of the guy. It hit Reacher a hundred yards away and went tumbling through his gut like a bullet. The Army surgeon who patched Reacher up told him afterward he was lucky. He told him a real bullet
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Autoren-Porträt von Lee Child
LEE CHILD is a #1 bestselling author worldwide. His debut novel, Killing Floor, won two awards for best first mystery and was nominated for two more. Foreign rights in the Jack Reacher series have been sold in ninety-five countries. Child, a native of England, is a former television director. He lives in New York City, where he is at work on his next Jack Reacher thriller.
Bibliographische Angaben
- Autor: Lee Child
- 2006, 592 Seiten, Maße: 19,05 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Jove
- ISBN-10: 0515142247
- ISBN-13: 9780515142242
- Erscheinungsdatum: 18.07.2011
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Tough, elegant, and thoughtful. Robert B. Parker A riveting thriller, brought to life with well-observed detail and paced with taut, evocative prose. It s a winner. Greg Iles
A thoroughly engrossing tale told by an author who doesn t miss a beat. Rocky Mountain News
Child presents his tense, action-packed adventure in vivid prose, as lean and capable as his central character. Jack Reacher is not merely a terrific hero; he sets a new standard. Tom Savage
Opens with a bang. Chicago Tribune
A literate scenario-cum-thriller. The Philadelphia Inquirer
Lee Child s knowledge of the modern military and its combat tactics amazed me. A chilling and all-too realistic story, and a damn good book. Steve Thayer
[A] redoubtable yet romantic hero [a] fast-paced misadventure...Cunning and explosive, it's a thumping good read. Time Out
Furiously suspenseful. Kirkus Reviews
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