Die Trying

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Authors: Lee Child

BOOK: Die Trying
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Table of Contents
 
 
Praise for DIE TRYING
“It takes a brave man to move into the macho territory of suspense writer Stephen Hunter, but Lee Child is making his move with [
Die Trying
].”—
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
 
“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
 
“Furiously suspenseful.”
—Kirkus Reviews
 
“Jack Reacher is an ex-military policeman, the sort who meets terror with a shrug, tragedy with the tiniest flick of jaw-muscle, and copes with hours of brutal confinement by doing intricate mental arithmetic.”
—Sunday Express
Praise for LEE CHILD
“Reacher is a wonderfully epic hero: tough, taciturn, yet vulnerable.”
—People
 
“Great style and careful plotting. The violence is brutal . . . depicted with the kind of detail that builds dread and suspense.”
—The New York Times
 
“The author pens nightmarish images as casually as an ordinary writer would dot an ‘i' or cross a ‘t.' ”
—The Philadelphia Inquirer
 
“[Child] must be channeling Dashiell Hammett . . . Reacher handles the maze of clues and the criminal unfortunates with a flair that would make Sam Spade proud.”
—Playboy
 
“Reacher is as tough as he is resourceful.”
—The Denver Post
 
“Child . . . gives us one of the truly memorable tough-guy heroes in recent fiction: Jack Reacher.”
—Jeffery Deaver, author of
The Bone Collector
 
“I love the larger-than-life hero Jack Reacher. I grew up a fan of John Wayne's and Clint Eastwood's movies, and it's great to see a man of their stature back in business.”
—Nevada Barr
 
“Jack Reacher has presence and dimension—a man you definitely want on your side. Child has a sure touch and a strong voice. Definitely a talent to watch.”
—Lynn Hightower
Praise for Lee Child's JACK REACHER NOVELS
KILLING FLOOR
A
People
Magazine “Page-Turner”
An Anthony Award Winner
 
“It'll blow you away.”
—The Philadelphia Inquirer
 
“From its jolting opening scene to its fiery final confrontation,
Killing Floor
is irresistible.”
—People
 
TRIPWIRE
“A stylish thriller as complex and disturbing as its hero.”
—Stephen White
 
“A sort of millennial reshaping of John D. MacDonald's Travis McGee character.”
—The Dallas Morning News
 
RUNNING BLIND
“Swift and brutal.”
—The New York Times
 
“Spectacular . . . muscular, energetic prose, and pell-mell pacing.”
—The Seattle Times
 
WITHOUT FAIL
“If
Without Fail
doesn't hook you on Lee Child, I give up.”
—The New York Times
 
“Child's plot is ingenious, his characters are first-rate, and his writing is fine indeed. This is a superior series.”
—The Washington Post Book World
 
ECHO BURNING
“Child is a vigorous storyteller, gradually building the suspense to almost unbearable levels.”
—St. Louis Post-Dispatch
 
“As sweltering as the El Paso sun. Bottom line: jalapeño-hot suspense.”
—People

By Lee Child

KILLING FLOOR

DIE TRYING

TRIPWIRE

RUNNING BLIND

ECHO BURNING

WITHOUT FAIL

PERSUADER

THE ENEMY

ONE SHOT

THE HARD WAY

BAD LUCK AND TROUBLE

NOTHING TO LOSE

GONE TOMORROW

61 HOURS

WORTH DYING FOR

THE AFFAIR

A WANTED MAN

NEVER GO BACK

PERSONAL

MAKE ME

eBooks

SECOND SON

DEEP DOWN

HIGH HEAT

An imprint of Penguin Random House LLC

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

DIE TRYING

A Jove Book / published by arrangement with the author

Copyright © 1998 by Lee Child.

Excerpt from
Tripwire
copyright © 1999 by Lee Child.

Excerpt from
Make Me
copyright © 2015 by Lee Child.

“Introduction” copyright © 2012 by Lee Child.

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

JOVE® is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

The “J” design is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

For more information, visit
penguin.com
.

eBook ISBN: 978-1-440-62572-5

PUBLISHING HISTORY

G. P. Putnam's Sons hardcover edition / March 1997

First Jove mass-market edition / May 1998

Berkley trade paperback edition / December 2004

First Jove premium edition / September 2008

Second Jove premium edition / November 2012

Cover illustration © Tom Tafuri.

Cover design by Judith Lagerman.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Version_5

If I listed all the ways she helps me,
this dedication would be longer
than the book itself.
So I'll just say:
 
To my wife, Jane, with thanks
1
NATHAN 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.

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