Die Trying by Lee Child

“Military Police,” he said.

She screwed her face up in a mock grimace.

The baddest of the bad,” she said. “Nobody likes you guys.”

Tell me about it,” Reacher said.

“Explains a lot of things,” she said. “You guys get a lot of special

Q9

training. So I guess you really are qualified. You should have told

me, damn it. Now I guess I have to apologize for what I said.”

He made no reply to that.

“Where were you stationed?” she asked.

“All over the world,” he said. “Europe, Far East, Middle East. Got so

I didn’t know which way was up.”

“Rank?” she asked.

“Major,” he said.

“Medals?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“Dozens of the damn things,” he said. “You know how it is. Theater

medals, of course, plus a Silver Star, two Bronzes, Purple Heart from

Beirut, campaign things from Panama and Grenada and Desert Shield and

Desert Storm.”

“A Silver Star?” she asked. “What for?”

“Beirut,” he said. “Pulled some guys out of the bunker.”

“And you got wounded doing that?” she said. That’s how you got the

scar and the Purple Heart?”

“I was already wounded,” he said. “Got wounded before I went in. I

think that was what impressed them.”

“Hero, right?” she said.

He smiled and shook his head.

“No way,” he said. “I wasn’t feeling anything. Wasn’t thinking. Too

shocked. I didn’t even know I was hit until afterward. If I’d known,

I’d have fallen down in a dead faint. My intestine was hanging out.

Looked really awful. It was bright pink. Sort of squashy.”

Holly was quiet for a second. The truck droned on. Another twenty

miles covered. North or south or west. Probably.

“How long were you in the service?” she asked.

“All my life,” he said. “My old man was a Marine officer, served all

over. He married a Frenchwoman in Korea. I was born in Berlin. Never

even saw the States until I was nine years old. Five minutes later we

were in the Philippines. Round and round the world we went. Longest I

was ever anywhere was four years at West Point. Then I joined up and

it started all over again. Round and round the world.”

“Where’s your family now?” she asked.

“Dead,” he said. The old man died, what? Ten years ago, I guess. My

mother died two years later. I buried the Silver Star with her.

Q3

She won it for me, really. Do what you’re supposed to do, she used to

tell me. About a million times a day, in a thick French accent.”

“Brothers and sisters?” she said.

“I had a brother,” he said. “He died last year. I’m the last Reacher

on earth, far as I know.”

“When did you muster out?” she said.

“April last year,” he said. “Fourteen months ago.”

“Why?” she asked.

Reacher shrugged.

“Just lost interest, I guess,” he said. The defense cuts were

happening. Made the army seem unnecessary, somehow. Like if they

didn’t need the biggest and the best, they didn’t need me. Didn’t want

to be part of something small and second-rate. So I left. Arrogant,

or what?”

She laughed.

“So you became a doorman?” she said. “From a decorated major to a

doorman? Isn’t that kind of second-rate?”

“Wasn’t like that,” he said. “I didn’t set out to be a doorman, like

it was a new career move or anything. It’s only temporary. I only got

to Chicago on Friday. I was planning to move on, maybe Wednesday. I

was thinking about going up to Wisconsin. Supposed to be a nice place,

this time of year.”

“Friday to Wednesday?” Holly said. “You got a problem with commitment

or something?”

“I guess,” he said. Thirty-six years I was always where somebody else

told me to be. Very structured sort of a life. I suppose I’m reacting

against it. I love moving around when I feel like it. It’s like a

drug. Longest I’ve ever stayed anywhere was ten consecutive days. Last

fall, in Georgia. Ten days, out of fourteen months. Apart from that,

I’ve been on the road more or less all the time.”

“Making a living by working the door at clubs?” she asked.