Two small towns in Colorado: Hope and Despair. Between them, nothing but twelve miles of empty road. Jack Reacher can't find a ride, so he walks. All he wants is a cup of coffee. What he gets are four redneck deputies who want to run him out of town.

Margrave is a no-account little town in Georgia. Jack Reacher jumps off a bus and walks fourteen miles in the rain. But Margrave has just had its first homicide in 30 years. And Reacher is the only stranger in town. So the murder is pinned on him. As nasty secrets leak out, only one thing is for sure: they picked the wrong guy to take the fall.

Jack Reacher is strolling nowhere in a Chicago street when he spots an attractive young woman struggling on crutches. He stops to offer her a steadying arm. And then he turns around to see a handgun aimed straight at his stomach. Locked in a dark, stifling van racing across America, chained to the woman, Reacher needs to know why he's there.

Suicide bombers are easy to spot. They give out all kinds of tell-tale signs. Mostly because they're nervous. Riding the subway in New York at two o'clock in the morning, Reacher knows the twelve giveaway signs to look out for. Watching one of his fellow-passengers, he becomes sharply aware: one by one, she ticks off every bulletpoint on his list.

'Never forgive, never forget' is Jack Reacher's standard operating procedure. Quinn was the worst guy he had ever met, truly unforgivable. So Reacher was glad to know he was dead. Until the day he saw him again in Boston, alive and well.

Lee Child's new stomach-churning, palm-sweating thriller turns back the clock to Jack Reacher's army days. For the first time we meet a younger Reacher, a Reacher not yet disillusioned with military life. A Reacher with family. A Reacher in dogtags and starched uniform who imposes army discipline, if only in his own pragmatic way.

Digging swimming pools in Key West, Florida, Jack Reacher is as tanned and as fit as he's ever been. Being invisible has become a habit. So when a private detective comes nosing around and asking questions, Reacher is not pleased. Especially when he later finds the guy dead. With his fingertips sliced off. Why was he so determined to find him?

Sergeant Amy Callan and Lieutenant Caroline Cook had a lot in common. Both high flying army women, both victims of sexual harassment, they left the army under dubious circumstances. Both are now dead, their bodies discovered, unmarked and unscarred, in their own homes. Everyone fears there is a serial killer on the loose.

Jack Reacher has no job, no ID, no last known address. A woman tracks him down, because she needs a hand with her new job. Her task is protecting the Vice President of the United States from someone threatening to kill him. And so he enters an exclusive club at the very heart of Washington power: the offices of the United States Secret Service.

Jack Reacher is six foot five and dangerous, adrift in the hellish heat of Texas, and looking for a lift through the vast empty landscape. A pretty young woman is alone. Her husband's in jail. When he comes out, he's going to kill her. Her family's hostile, she can't trust the cops, and lawyers won't help. Reacher is her last option.

Late at night, in a New York cafe, Jack Reacher orders coffee in a cup made of foam, not china. He owns nothing, carries less. He has never met a woman who said no or a case he couldn't solve. But now Reacher faces a new case so disturbing that the truth eludes him. He has to sweat the details and work the clues.

With six shots, five people were dead and one heartland city is thrown into terror. But the cops have it solved. It is a slam-dunk case, except that the accused man claims: You got the wrong guy . After that, all he'll say is: Get Reacher for me. Jack Reacher lives off the grid. What could connect the ex-military cop to this obvious psychopath?

An anthology of stories from crime writers.

The events of 9/11 changed Jack Reacher's drifter life in a practical way. So when a member of his old Army unit manages to get a message to him, he knows it has to be deadly serious. The Special Investigators always watched each other's backs. Now he must put the old unit back together. Someone has killed one of them, and he can't let that go.

This publication is not for sale to libraries. Suicide bombers are easy to spot. Riding the subway in New York at two o'clock in the morning, Reacher knows the giveaway signs to look out for. Watching one of his fellow-passengers, he becomes sharply aware: one by one, she ticks off every bulletpoint on his list.

Riding the subway in New York at two o'clock in the morning, Reacher knows the twelve giveaway signs to look out for. Watching one of his fellow-passengers, he becomes sharply aware: one by one, she ticks off every bulletpoint on his list.

A Chicago street in bright sunshine. Jack Reacher, strolling nowhere. An attractive young woman, struggling on crutches. Naturally he stops to offer her a steadying arm. And then he turns around to see a handgun aimed straight at his stomach.Locked in a dark, stifling van racing across America, chained to the woman, Reacher needs to know why he's there. The kidnappers are saying nothing.The woman

Jack Reacher walks alone.No job, no ID, no last known address.Doesn't want to be found.But he never turns down a plea for help.Especially from a woman.Now a woman tracks him down. A woman serving at the very heart of US power. A woman who needs Reacher's native cunning, surly charm and controlled aggression to help her with her new job.Her job? Putting herself in the line of fire. Protecting the V

Two small towns in Colorado: Hope and Despair. Between them, nothing but twelve miles of empty road. Jack Reacher can't find a ride, so he walks. All he wants is a cup of coffee. What he gets are four redneck deputies who want to run him out of town. Mistake. They're picking on the wrong guy. Jack Reacher is a big man, and he's in shape. No job, no address, no baggage. Nothing, except bloody-minde

You DO NOT MESS with the Special Investigators!The events of 9/11 changed Jack Reacher's drifter life in a practical way. In addition to his folding toothbrush, he now needs to carry photo ID to get around. Yet he is still as close to untraceable as a human being in America can get.So when a member of his old Army unit manages to get a message to him, he knows it has to be deadly serious. The Spec