Personal: Jack Reacher #19
I get the feeling Child wrote this story for Tom Cruise because it reads like a Hollywood blockbuster. And I don’t mean that in good way. The plot is over the top. I like Reacher because he’s a loner and takes on smaller problems that can be tackled by his unique set of skills. Not because he’s James Bond and has the resources of U.S. Military, CIA, and State Department behind him. This said, the story is a pretty good mystery and the reader still gets to hang around with Jack Reacher, who is a little more talkative this time around.
Excerpts From My Kindle
The passenger door hinge was more rust than mud, and I had to put some strength into it. I squealed it open just wide enough to slide in sideways, and I saw Casey Nice was doing the exact same thing on her side, like we were limbo dancing towards each other. There were no seat belts. No seats at all, really. Just a green canvas sling fraying its way off a tubular metal frame. But the engine started, eventually, after a bunch of popping and churning, and then it idled, wet and lumpy. The transmission was slower than the postal service. She rattled the selector into reverse, and all the mechanical parts inside called the roll and counted a quorum and set about deciding what to do. Which required a lengthy debate, apparently, because it was whole seconds before the truck lurched backward. She turned the wheel, which looked like hard work, and then she jammed the selector into a forward gear, and first of all the reversing committee wound up its business and approved its minutes and exited the room, and then the forward crew signed on and got comfortable, and a motion was tabled and seconded and discussed. More whole seconds passed, and then the truck slouched forward, slow and stuttering at first, before picking up its pace and rolling implacably towards the exit gate. I said, You should have stolen John Kotts old blue pick-up truck. – location 1491-1501