So, I’m really starting to feel sorry for Jack Reacher now. I never thought pity would be an emotion I would ever feel for him; sadness, maybe, because here’s a guy who literally has no one in his life that he can call family or even friend. His nomadic lifestyle requires it.
Living a life without lasting connections of any sort is a sad existence, but it’s understandable in Reacher. He’s chosen it, and he likes it.
Until several books ago, when he meets a voice on a phone. Her name is Susan, and she is the commanding officer of Reacher’s old military police post. For several books now, she has been as close to a confidante and friend as Reacher has allowed anyone to be. He has been slowly, state by state, making his way to Virginia to meet her.
Finally, in Lee Child’s 18th Reacher novel, “Never Go Back”, he arrives in Virginia. He walks into the headquarters of the 110th MP, his old unit---his “alma mater”---with the expectation of meeting Susan for the first time...
Only to find that she has been arrested for treason. Reacher himself has been re-activated in the Army due to several warrants for his arrest. One involves the brutal beating of a suspect that he knows he never touched. The other is a paternity suit of a woman who claims Reacher impregnated her while he was stationed in Korea. Reacher knows that he doesn’t know the woman, has never met her, and has certainly never impregnated her.
Someone is framing Susan and him. So, of course, Reacher does what he has to do: break her out of jail and run, hoping they can solve the problem on the lam.
Here’s where the pity comes in: Reacher knows he doesn’t have a child as a result of a one-night stand---it’s not his style---but he needs to know, so he and Susan travel across the country, to L.A., to be sure.
Along the way, Reacher and Susan have an inevitable fling. Both of them know it won’t last. Neither of them are built for it. Susan calls Reacher a “feral” man, a rare type who feels compelled to break from the pack and run free. Reacher agrees.
What’s never said, of course, and what Child so deftly manages to hint at solely through implication, is that Reacher’s feeling lonely. Why else would he travel the length of the U.S. to confirm that he doesn’t, in fact, have a teenage daughter? And why would he be so desperate to be with---and try to save the reputation of---a woman he has never actually met outside of a few long, intimate phone calls?
“Never Go Back” is a turning point for Reacher. It’s a chance to see what might have been if he had made different choices in life. The entire intricate espionage thriller plot is almost secondary. Almost.
As aways, Child unfolds a crazy story, one that involves an Afghani drug smuggling ring, corrupt generals, and a multi-billion dollar illegal industry that has been going on under the radar of law enforcement for several hundred years. It’s not a conspiracy theory either. It’s real and probably happening somewhere in the city where you live.
But the real story in “Never Go Back” is a subtle tragedy. It’s the tragedy of regrets in life of those things we didn’t do.
Kind of a downer of a Reacher novel. But still damn good.