Commencez à lire The Enemy (Jack Reacher, Book 8) sur votre Kindle dans moins d'une minute. Vous n'avez pas encore de Kindle ? Achetez-le ici Ou commencez à lire dès maintenant avec l'une de nos applications de lecture Kindle gratuites.

Envoyer sur votre Kindle ou un autre appareil

 
 
 

Essai gratuit

Découvrez gratuitement un extrait de ce titre

Envoyer sur votre Kindle ou un autre appareil

Désolé, cet article n'est pas disponible en
Image non disponible pour la
couleur :
Image non disponible
 

The Enemy (Jack Reacher, Book 8) [Format Kindle]

Lee Child
4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (5 commentaires client)

Prix conseillé : EUR 10,09 De quoi s'agit-il ?
Prix éditeur - format imprimé : EUR 9,42
Prix Kindle : EUR 6,99 TTC & envoi gratuit via réseau sans fil par Amazon Whispernet
Économisez : EUR 2,43 (26%)

App de lecture Kindle gratuite Tout le monde peut lire les livres Kindle, même sans un appareil Kindle, grâce à l'appli Kindle GRATUITE pour les smartphones, les tablettes et les ordinateurs.

Pour obtenir l'appli gratuite, saisissez votre adresse e-mail ou numéro de téléphone mobile.

Promotion Kindle de l'été : plus de 120 ebooks à -50% ou plus
PROMOTION KINDLE DE L’ÉTÉ
Retrouvez plus de 120 ebooks à -50% ou plus dans notre promotion Kindle de l'été.
-40%, -50%, -60%, -70%... Découvrez les Soldes Amazon jusqu'au 4 août 2015 inclus. Profitez-en !





Les clients ayant acheté cet article ont également acheté

Cette fonction d'achat continuera à charger les articles. Pour naviguer hors de ce carrousel, veuillez utiliser votre touche de raccourci d'en-tête pour naviguer vers l'en-tête précédente ou suivante.

Descriptions du produit

Amazon.co.uk

Lee Child is a quiet, undemonstrative man who is phlegmatic about his success in the thriller field. The Enemy will no doubt attract the usual enthusiastic acclaim, and it deserves to. One thing that is guaranteed to please Child is the open-mouthed astonishment of American readers who learn that this writer of the most idiomatic American thrillers (with brilliantly realised US locales) is actually English. But there's never a sense of striving for effects in such taut Child novels as Killing Floor and Die Trying. Child simply delivers the goods, US-style--and The Enemy is no exception.

Child's usual protagonist, the tough and resourceful Jack Reacher, is in North Carolina on New Year's Day, 1990. Elsewhere, world-shaking events are underway, such as the tearing down of the Berlin Wall. But Jack's job as a Military Police Duty Officer has him concerned with what initially seem to be less significant happenings: a soldier has been found dead in a sleazy motel and when Jack goes to the house of the soldier (a two-star general) to inform his wife, he finds her also dead. Needless to say, events in another part of the globe are having fatal repercussions in the US, and Reacher is soon up to his neck, with the body count rising.

As a glimpse into the early life of Jack Reacher (now securely one of the most admired heroes in contemporary thriller writing), this is meat and drink to the Child aficionado. Child foregrounds characterisation in his pacy narratives, and this eighth outing for Jack has all the adrenalin-producing qualities of its predecessors. --Barry Forshaw

Extrait

Chapter One


As serious as a heart attack. Maybe those were Ken Kramer's last words, like a final explosion of panic in his mind as he stopped breathing and dropped into the abyss. He was out of line, in every way there was, and he knew it. He was where he shouldn't have been, with someone he shouldn't have been with, carrying something he should have kept in a safer place. But he was getting away with it. He was playing and winning. He was on top of his game. He was probably smiling. Until the sudden thump deep inside his chest betrayed him. Then everything turned around. Success became instant catastrophe. He had no time to put anything right.

Nobody knows what a fatal heart attack feels like. There are no survivors to tell us. Medics talk about necrosis, and clots, and oxygen starvation, and occluded blood vessels. They predict rapid useless cardiac fluttering, or else nothing at all. They use words like infarction and fibrillation, but those terms mean nothing to us. You just drop dead is what they should say. Ken Kramer certainly did. He just dropped dead, and he took his secrets with him, and the trouble he left behind nearly killed me too.

I was alone in a borrowed office. There was a clock on the wall. It had no second hand. Just an hour hand, and a minute hand. It was electric. It didn't tick. It was completely silent, like the room. I was watching the minute hand, intently. It wasn't moving.

I waited.

It moved. It jumped ahead six degrees. Its motion was mechanical and damped and precise. It bounced once and quivered a little and came to rest.

A minute.

One down, one to go.

Sixty more seconds.

I kept on watching. The clock stayed still for a long, long time. Then the hand jumped again. Another six degrees, another minute, straight-up midnight, and 1989 was 1990.

I pushed my chair back and stood up behind the desk. The phone rang. I figured it was someone calling to wish me a happy new year. But it wasn't. It was a civilian cop calling because he had a dead soldier in a motel thirty miles off-post.

"I need the Military Police duty officer," he said.

I sat down again, behind the desk.

"You got him," I said.

"We've got one of yours, dead."

"One of mine?"

"A soldier," he said.

"Where?"

"Motel, in town."

"Dead how?" I asked.

"Heart attack, most likely," the guy said.

I paused. Turned the page on the army-issue calendar on the desk, from December 31st to January 1st.

"Nothing suspicious?" I said.

"Don't see anything."

"You seen heart attacks before?"

"Lots of them."

"OK," I said. "Call post headquarters."

I gave him the number.

"Happy New Year," I said.

"You don't need to come out?" he said.

"No," I said. I put the phone down. I didn't need to go out. The army is a big institution, a little bigger than Detroit, a little smaller than Dallas, and just as unsentimental as either place. Current active strength is 930,000 men and women, and they are as representative of the general American population as you can get. Death rate in America is around 865 people per 100,000 population per year, and in the absence of sustained combat soldiers don't die any faster or slower than regular people. On the whole they are younger and fitter than the population at large, but they smoke more and drink more and eat worse and stress harder and do all kinds of dangerous things in training. So their life expectancy comes out about average. Soldiers die at the same speed as everyone else. Do the math with the death rate versus current strength, and you have twenty-two dead soldiers every single day of every single year, accidents, suicides, heart disease, cancer, stroke, lung disease, liver failure, kidney failure. Like dead citizens in Detroit, or Dallas. So I didn't need to go out. I'm a cop, not a mortician.

The clock moved. The hand jumped and bounced and settled. Three minutes past midnight. The phone rang again. It was someone calling to wish me a happy new year. It was the sergeant in the office outside of mine.

"Happy New Year," she said to me.

"You too," I said. "You couldn't stand up and put your head in the door?"

"You couldn't put yours out the door?"

"I was on the phone."

"Who was it?"

"Nobody," I said. "Just some grunt didn't make it to the new decade."

"You want coffee?"

"Sure," I said. "Why not?"

I put the phone down again. At that point I had been in more than six years, and army coffee was one of the things that made me happy to stay in. It was the best in the world, no question. So were the sergeants. This one was a mountain woman from north Georgia. I had known her two days. She lived off-post in a trailer park somewhere in the North Carolina Badlands. She had a baby son. She had told me all about him. I had heard nothing about a husband. She was all bone and sinew and she was as hard as woodpecker lips, but she liked me. I could tell, because she brought me coffee. They don't like you, they don't bring you coffee. They knife you in the back instead. My door opened and she came in, carrying two mugs, one for her and one for me.

"Happy New Year," I said to her.

She put the coffee down on my desk, both mugs.

"Will it be?" she said.

"Don't see why not," I said.

"The Berlin Wall is halfway down. They showed it on the television. They were having a big party over there."

"I'm glad someone was, somewhere."

"Lots of people. Big crowds. All singing and dancing."

"I didn't see the news."

"This all was six hours ago. The time difference."

"They're probably still at it."

"They had sledgehammers."

"They're allowed. Their half is a free city. We spent forty-five years keeping it that way."

"Pretty soon we won't have an enemy anymore."

I tried the coffee. Hot, black, the best in the world.

"We won," I said. "Isn't that supposed to be a good thing?"

"Not if you depend on Uncle Sam's paycheck."

She was dressed like me in standard woodland camouflage battledress uniform. Her sleeves were neatly rolled. Her MP brassard was exactly horizontal. I figured she had it safety-pinned in back where nobody could see. Her boots were gleaming.

"You got any desert camos?" I asked her.

"Never been to the desert," she said.

"They changed the pattern. They put big brown splotches on it. Five years' research. Infantry guys are calling it chocolate chip. It's not a good pattern. They'll have to change it back. But it'll take them another five years to figure that out."

"So?"

"If it takes them five years to revise a camo pattern, your kid will be through college before they figure out force reduction. So don't worry about it."

"OK," she said, not believing me. "You think he's good for college?"

"I never met him."

She said nothing.

"The army hates change," I said. "And we'll always have enemies."

She said nothing. My phone rang again. She leaned forward and answered it for me. Listened for about eleven seconds and handed me the receiver.

"Colonel Garber, sir," she said. "He's in D.C."

She took her mug and left the room. Colonel Garber was ultimately my boss, and although he was a pleasant human being it was unlikely he was calling eight minutes into New Year's Day simply to be social. That wasn't his style. Some brass does that stuff. They come over all cheery on the big holidays, like they're really just one of the boys. But Leon Garber wouldn't have dreamed of trying that, with anyone, and least of all with me. Even if he had known I was going to be there.

"Reacher here," I said.

There was a long pause.

"I thought you were in Panama," Leon Garber said.

"I got orders," I said.

"From Panama to Fort Bird? Why?"

"Not my place to ask."

"When was this?"

"Two days ago."

"That's a kick in the teeth," he said. "Isn't it?"

"Is it?"

"Panama was probably more exciting."

"It was OK," I said.

"And they got you working duty officer on New Year's Eve already?"

"I volunteered," I said. "I'm trying to make people like me."

"That's a hopeless task," he said.

"A sergeant just brought me coffee."

There was another pause. "Someone just call you about a dead soldier in a motel?" he asked.

"Eight minutes ago," I said. "I shuffled it off to headquarters."

"And they shuffled it off to someone else and I just got pulled out of a party to hear all about it."

"Why?"

"Because the dead soldier in question is a two-star general."

The phone went quiet.

"I didn't think to ask," I said.

The phone stayed quiet.

"Generals are mortal," I said. "Same as anyone else."

No reply.

"There was nothing suspicious," I said. "He croaked, is all. Heart attack. Probably had gout. I didn't see a reason to get excited."

"It's a question of dignity," Garber said. "We can't leave a two-star lying around belly-up in public without reacting. We need a presence."

"And that would be me?"

&quo...

Détails sur le produit

  • Format : Format Kindle
  • Taille du fichier : 1913 KB
  • Nombre de pages de l'édition imprimée : 564 pages
  • Editeur : Transworld Digital (28 juillet 2009)
  • Vendu par : Amazon Media EU S.à r.l.
  • Langue : Anglais
  • ISBN-10: 0857500112
  • ISBN-13: 978-0857500113
  • ASIN: B0031RS7EA
  • Synthèse vocale : Non activée
  • X-Ray :
  • Word Wise: Activé
  • : Activé
  • Moyenne des commentaires client : 4.0 étoiles sur 5  Voir tous les commentaires (5 commentaires client)
  • Classement des meilleures ventes d'Amazon: n°10.715 dans la Boutique Kindle (Voir le Top 100 dans la Boutique Kindle)
  •  Souhaitez-vous faire modifier les images ?


En savoir plus sur l'auteur

Découvrez des livres, informez-vous sur les écrivains, lisez des blogs d'auteurs et bien plus encore.

Quels sont les autres articles que les clients achètent après avoir regardé cet article?


Commentaires en ligne

4.0 étoiles sur 5
4.0 étoiles sur 5
Commentaires client les plus utiles
4.0 étoiles sur 5 Le premier vrai Jack REACHER 12 janvier 2014
Format:Broché|Achat vérifié
Où l'on découvre le personnage de Jack REACHER à l'origine: Major de la MP, engagé dans une enquête qui débouche sur un complot impliquant les plus hautes personnalités militaires à la fin de la guerre froide.
Ambiance garantie et descriptions fidèles: on sent que Lee CHILD a parfaitement bien documenté son récit.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
5.0 étoiles sur 5 The Enemy, but not too much for Reacher! 13 août 2014
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
Here we go again. The loner, Reacher, appears just when needed. Just when there is a situation that needs sorting, and who best to employ but an intelligent, talented, ex military cop. Great read.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
2 internautes sur 3 ont trouvé ce commentaire utile 
2.0 étoiles sur 5 déjà oublié 30 octobre 2010
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
Sans doute que Lee Child a ses adeptes qui suivent fiévreusement son héros récurrent, Jack Reacher, et se réjouissent de tout nouvel épisode dans la série (une douzaine pour l'instant), mais... pour moi ce fut un coup d'essai qui ne m'a pas convaincue et je m'en tiendrai là.

Style assez "télégraphique", bien que narré à la première personne, aucune empathie pour le personnage principal.
En plus c'est une enquête en milieu militaire avec un jargon (et sans doute des codes) spécifique que je n'ai pas capté.

Résultat : il ne me reste rien de cette lecture et j'aime autant mettre en garde les néophytes, les autres (les fans) sachant à quoi s'attendre...
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
4.0 étoiles sur 5 bon livre dans la lignée 17 septembre 2013
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
pas de mystère avec un nouveau jack Reacher balèse, malin, qui gagne toujours, une sorte de lonesome cowboy avec de petits changements de temps en temps.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
Format:Poche|Achat vérifié
Etat impeccable, livré très rapidement, je suis ravie de l'achat.
Avez-vous trouvé ce commentaire utile ?
Vous voulez voir plus de commentaires sur cet article ?
Ces commentaires ont-ils été utiles ?   Dites-le-nous
Rechercher des commentaires
Rechercher uniquement parmi les commentaires portant sur ce produit

Discussions entre clients

Le forum concernant ce produit
Discussion Réponses Message le plus récent
Pas de discussions pour l'instant

Posez des questions, partagez votre opinion, gagnez en compréhension
Démarrer une nouvelle discussion
Thème:
Première publication:
Aller s'identifier
 

Rechercher parmi les discussions des clients
Rechercher dans toutes les discussions Amazon
   


Rechercher des articles similaires par rubrique