The Sentinel (Jack Reacher, #25)

by Lee Child

The guy took a step back, his eyes wide with fear and his guitar case raised like a shield. The singer almost piled into him from behind. Reacher held up his hands, palms facing out. He was aware of the effect his appearance could have. He was six feet five. 250 pounds. His hair was a disheveled mess.

“And the Russians are trying to steal a copy. So what? If they succeed, what could they do with it? Change the result of an election? Aren’t there fail-safes? Paper backups?”