Julio Bonilla’s Reviews > Tripwire > Status Update

He had called her firstborn Joe. Not Joseph, just Joe. No middle name. She loved the boy, of course, but the name was hard for her. It was very short and abrupt, and she struggled with the initial J…

But paradoxically nobody ever called him by his first name. Nobody knew how it came about, but I was always called Joe and Jack was always called Reacher. She did it herself, all the time. She had no idea why.

Combat is about time and space and opposing forces. Like a huge four-dimensional diagram. First step is misinform the enemy. Let them think your diagram is a completely different shape. You assume all communications are penetrated, and then you use them to spread lies and deceit. You buy yourself an advantage.🔫

I don’t like telephones.
☎️

His forearm fell in two. His watch was still strapped to the wrist. The hand and the wrist fell to the floor. He raised the severed forearm and touched his face with it, to try and find out why the skin up there felt so cold but smelled so hot. 💪🏻

He saw his hand come off. He saw it in detail. That part was never in the dream, because the dream was about fire, and he didn’t need to dream about his hair coming off, because he couldn’t remember seeing it happen. The edge of the blade had a slim aerodynamic profile, and it was dull black. It punched through the bones of his arm and stopped dead against his thigh, it’s energy already expended.

Reacher still had hold of Hobie’s bones. The radius and the ulna from his right arm, neatly socketed on the lower end like nature intended, savagely smashed and splintered at the upper end by a fragment of his own rotor blade. Hobie had studied the leading edge of that blade and seen that it was capable of smashing through tree limbs as thick as a man’s arm. He had used that inspiration to save other…💀

He’s the best in the world.

The Huey spun. It came it at a shallow angle and the trees spun it around. It separated between the cabin and the tail and the cabin hit the ground traveling backward.
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SAS was MP code for “stupid asshole sometimes,” and it was a reasonably benevolent rating for a sergeant to give a general.

I’m the best there is.

Registered to Cayman Corporate Trust with an address in the World Trade Center.

Same registered owner abandoned a black Chevrolet Suburban on lower Broadway yesterday. Three-vehicle moving traffic incident. Fifteenth Precinct towed the wreck.