Tripwire: A Jack Reacher Novel

By Lee Child

Jack Reacher hunts the hunter within the 3rd novel in Lee Child’s New York Times bestselling series.

Reacher's anonymity in Florida is shattered by way of an investigator who is come searching for him. yet hours after his arrival, the stranger is murdered. Retracing the PI's path again to long island, Reacher's forced to determine who was once trying to find him and why. He by no means anticipated the explanations to be so personal—and twisted.

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He may well listen the rattle of his respiring. not anything else, only a faint hiss from the pinnacle of the oxygen bottle and the clink of china from the kitchen. sufferer household sounds. The window had a Venetian blind, lime-green plastic, tilted down opposed to the sunshine. The river used to be available in the market someplace, possibly past an overgrown backyard, perhaps thirty miles upstream of Leon Garber's position. 'Here we are,' Mrs Hobie referred to as from the hallway. She was once on her long ago into the room with a wheeled cart. there has been an identical china set stacked on it, cups and saucers and plates, with a small milk jug and a sugar bowl. The linen hide used to be off the platter, revealing a pound cake, drizzled with a few form of yellow icing. possibly lemon. The previous percolator was once there, smelling of espresso. 'How do you love it? ' 'No milk, no sugar,' Reacher acknowledged. She poured espresso right into a cup, her skinny wrist quivering with the hassle. The cup rattled in its saucer as she handed it throughout. She it with 1 / 4 of the cake on a plate. The plate shook. The oxygen bottle hissed. The outdated guy used to be rehearsing his tale, dividing it up into bites, taking in adequate oxygen to gasoline every one of them. 'I used to be a printer,' he stated abruptly. 'I ran my very own store. Mary labored for a major buyer of mine. We met and have been married within the spring of '47. Our son was once born within the June of '48. ' He grew to become away and ran his look alongside the road of images. 'Our son, Victor Truman Hobie. ' The parlour fell quiet, like an observance. 'I believed in duty,' the outdated guy stated. 'I was once not worthy for lively provider, and that i regretted it. Regretted it bitterly, significant. yet i used to be satisfied to serve my kingdom any method i'll, and that i did. We introduced our son up a similar method, to like his nation and to serve it. He volunteered for Vietnam. ' outdated Mr Hobie closed his mouth and sucked oxygen via his nostril, as soon as, two times, after which he leaned all the way down to the ground beside him and got here up with a leather-bound folder. He unfold it throughout his bony legs and opened it up. Took out a photo and handed it throughout. Reacher juggled his cup and his plate and leaned ahead to take it from the shaking hand. It used to be a pale color print of a boy in a yard. The boy was once possibly 9 or ten, stocky, toothy, freckled, grinning, donning a steel bowl the other way up on his head, with a toy rifle shouldered, his stiff denim trousers tucked into his socks to resemble the glance of fatigues buckled into gaiters. 'He desired to be a soldier,' Mr Hobie acknowledged. 'Always. It was once his ambition. I licensed of it on the time, after all. We have been not able to produce other kids, so Victor was once on his personal, the sunshine of our lives, and that i suggestion that to be a soldier and to serve his kingdom was once an exceptional ambition for the single son of a patriotic father. ' there has been silence back. A cough. A hiss of oxygen. Silence. 'Did you approve of Vietnam, significant? ' Hobie requested abruptly. Reacher shrugged. 'I was once too younger to have a lot of an opinion,' he acknowledged. 'But realizing what i do know now, no, i would not have licensed of Vietnam. ' 'Why now not? ' 'Wrong place,' Reacher acknowledged.

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