Reacher Said, "so Here's The Thing Brett.

He Picked Up The Wrench And Broke The Guy’s Wrist With It, One, And Then The Other Wrist, Two, And Turned Back And Did The Same To The Guy Who Had Held The Hammer, Three, Four. The Two Men Were Somebody’s Weapons, Consciously Deployed, And No Soldier Left An Enemy’s Abandoned Ordnance On The Field In Working Order. The Doctor’s Wife Was Watching From The Cabin Door, All Kinds Of Terror In Her Face. "what?" Reacher Asked Her.

It's Always Sad If Anybody You Know Has A Personal Problem.

People, Reacher Was Certain About. Dogs Were Different. People Had Freedom Of Choice. If A Man Or A Woman Ran Snarling Toward Him, They Did So Because They Chose To. They Were Asking For Whatever They Got. His Response Was Their Problem. But Dogs Were Different. No Free Will. Easily Misled. It Raised An Ethical Problem. Shooting A Dog Because It Had Been Induced To Do Something Unwise Was Not The Sort Of Thing Reacher Wanted To Do.

You Do Not Mess With The Special Investigators.

The Way To Write A Thriller Is To Ask A Question At The Beginning, And Answer It At The End.