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But his mind was wide awake. Not racing, but just powering steadily along with that special nighttime intensity you get in the absence of any other distractions.
He was the son of a Marine officer and he had lived the military life literally all the way since birth.
Therefore confusion and unpredictability were what he was accustomed to.
He understood freak chances.
Life was built out of freak chances, however much people would like to pretend otherwise.
Dark, slim, a lot of intelligence and energy. Great eyes.
Eyes were Reacher’s thing. He was lost in a pair of pretty eyes.
It was her knee. That’s what was doing it to him. Her guts and her dignity.
She wasn’t complaining. She wasn’t asking for his help. And because she wasn’t asking
for it, she was going to get it.
“Needle in a haystack,” Brogan said. McGrath shrugged. “So let’s find the haystack,” he said. “Then we’ll go look for the needle.
The rule said: hope for the best, but plan for the worst.
The first rule is you make a firm decision, to live free or die, and you mean it. Live free or die.
The second rule is you don’t act like a sheep. You stand up and you resist them.
“The brave man retaliates,” Borken repeated. “But the man who is both brave and clever acts differently. He retaliates first. In advance. He strikes the first blows.
Five thousand classic pages, all saying the same thing: don’t do what they expect you to do.
The gulags had been completely open. No wire, no barriers. He had asked his hosts: but where are the fences? The Russians had pointed out over the miles of snow and said: there are the fences. Nowhere to run.
He looked up at the map again. The terrain was the barrier.
“There are no lawyers here,” he said. “Lawyers are what went wrong with the
rest of America.
The Bill of Rights doesn’t say anything about lawyers. It says counsel....
This highlight has been truncated due to consecutive passage length restrictions.
There was a slight murmur from the crowd. Reacher detected no disapproval in the sound. They were all hypnotized.
Basking in Borken’s bright glow like reptiles in a hot noontime sun.
“Beans, bullets and bandages,” Fowler said. “That’s Beau’s motto. Sooner or later we’re going to face a siege.
