At the beginning of every one of Lee Child's novels about Jack Reacher, Reacher finds himself in a situation any of the rest of us are unlikely to experience. Just as well, since we probably wouldn't be able to handle things the way Reacher does. This time around he's on a subway in New York City with a woman who exhibits all the characteristics of a suicide bomber. What are those, exactly? Don't worry. Reacher will tell you.
That's a problem for me with these books, by the way. Reacher (this one's in the first person, though not all of them are) or Child goes into more detail than I think is necessary for the story. No wonder the book's so long. For example, we find out all about the subway car Reacher is riding. When someone fires a pistol, we're going to learn everything about that pistol. And speaking of everything, that's what Reacher knows. Everything. He's never forgotten anything he's ever heard or read, though when he has time to read is something I wonder about.
But I digress. Reacher's wrong about the suicide bomber, but there's a suicide, all right. And then things get complicated. Why did this woman kill herself? Why, suddenly, are all kinds of shady characters trying to keep Reacher from finding out? Who's the beautiful woman who has an interest? It's all very complicated, and there's a McGuffin of sorts. I have a problem with the McGuffin, but that's just me, I think. It won't bother anyone else with a bit more knowledge about certain things than I have.
This book's already a huge bestseller, and it doesn't need me to recommend it. I enjoyed it, but I do think it was too long and a bit padded. If you're a Reacher fan, you already have it on order.