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    Tracking Jack: The Hunt for Jack Reacher, #22
    Tracking Jack: The Hunt for Jack Reacher, #22
    Tracking Jack: The Hunt for Jack Reacher, #22
    Ebook449 pages6 hours

    Tracking Jack: The Hunt for Jack Reacher, #22

    By Diane Capri

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    About this ebook

    USA Today and New York Times Bestselling, Award Winning Series! The next gripping Hunt for Jack Reacher Thriller from Diane Capri!

    "Make some coffee. You'll read all night." Lee Child

     

    A former NYPD detective with connections to Jack Reacher thwarts an attack at Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport. A few hours later, both the detective and the attacker are murdered.

    FBI Special Agent Kim Otto jumps into the high-stakes investigation, following a trail of breadcrumbs Reacher left in his wake after the Lee Child novel, Gone Tomorrow.

    As Otto races to locate the killers, her ongoing mission to find Reacher takes an unexpected turn. The legendary loner briefly emerges from the shadows, joining forces with Otto in his own way to confront a determined enemy planning revenge and mass destruction.

    From quiet North Carolina backroads to Washington's corridors of power, Tracking Jack is a pulse-pounding thriller. Bestselling author Diane Capri delivers a rollercoaster of suspense, where loyalties are tested, secrets exposed, and justice hangs in the balance.

    Don't just read it. Live it.


    Lee Child Gives Diane Capri Two Thumbs Up! "Full of thrills and tension, but smart and human, too. Kim Otto is a great, great character – I love her."

    The Hunt for Jack Reacher series enthralls fans of John Grisham, Lee Child, and more:

    "Diane writes like the maestro of the jigsaw puzzle. Sit back in your favorite easy chair, pour a glass of crisp white wine, and enter her devilishly clever world."  —David Hagberg, New York Times Bestselling Author of Kirk McGarvey Thrillers

    "Expertise shines on every page." —Margaret Maron, Edgar, Anthony, Agatha and Macavity Award Winning MWA Past President and MWA Grand Master 2013

    Readers Love the Hunt for Jack Reacher Series and Diane Capri:

    "I 'stumbled' on this title and was attracted to it as I am a Jack Reacher fan. Loved the story and the author's writing style. Couldn't wait for more so I purchased [Raw Justice] and want more Jennifer Lane — please?! Fatal Distraction is also on my Kindle to read list!"

    "I have been a Reacher fan for years and was excited when I heard of Diane Capri's take on 'Finding Reacher'. 'Don't Know Jack' is a good companion to Child's Reacher books and recaptures the flavor of the Reacher mystique. I am waiting anxiously for the next book in the series and the next and the next, and so on."

    "I love this series!"

    "All Child fans should give it a try!"

    Award-Winning, New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author DIANE CAPRI does it again in another blockbuster Hunt for Jack Reacher Series Novel

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDiane Capri
    Release dateNov 19, 2024
    ISBN9781962769464
    Tracking Jack: The Hunt for Jack Reacher, #22

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      Book preview

      Tracking Jack - Diane Capri

      Praise for

      New York Times and USA Today

      Bestselling Author

      Diane Capri

      Full of thrills and tension, but smart and human, too. Kim Otto is a great, great character. I love her.

      Lee Child, #1 Worldwide Bestselling Author of Jack Reacher Thrillers

      [A] welcome surprise… [W]orks from the first page to ‘The End’.

      Larry King

      Swift pacing and ongoing suspense are always present… [L]ikable protagonist who uses her political connections for a good cause… Readers should eagerly anticipate the next [book].

      Top Pick, Romantic Times

      …offers tense legal drama with courtroom overtones, twisty plot, and loads of Florida atmosphere. Recommended.

      Library Journal

      [A] fast-paced legal thriller…energetic prose…an appealing heroine…clever and capable supporting cast…[that will] keep readers waiting for the next [book].

      Publishers Weekly

      Expertise shines on every page.

      Margaret Maron, Edgar, Anthony, Agatha, and Macavity Award-Winning MWA Grand Master

      -

      Copyright © 2024 Diane Capri, LLC

      All Rights Reserved

      Excerpt from Gone Tomorrow © 2003 Lee Child

      Published by: AugustBooks

      http://www.AugustBooks.com

      Visit the author website:

      DianeCapri.com

      For new release notifications, free offers, gifts, and general information for members only, please sign up for our Diane Capri mailing list. We don’t want to leave you out!

      CLICK HERE to Join Diane Capri’s Mailing List

      Have you read all of Diane Capri’s books? Maybe it’s time to give them a try!

      CLICK HERE for a complete list of Diane Capri Books

      Tracking Jack is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

      License Notes:

      This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Publisher’s Note:

      The publisher and author do not have any control over and do not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

      No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without express written permission from the publisher. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

      eISBN: 978-1-962769-46-4

      Original cover design by: Cory Clubb

      -

      Table of Contents

      Title Page

      Reviews

      Copyright

      Dedication

      Dear Friends

      Gone Tomorrow by Lee Child

      Cast of Characters

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      Chapter 20

      Chapter 21

      Chapter 22

      Chapter 23

      Chapter 24

      Chapter 25

      Chapter 26

      Chapter 27

      Chapter 28

      Chapter 29

      Chapter 30

      Chapter 31

      Chapter 32

      Chapter 33

      Chapter 34

      Chapter 35

      Chapter 36

      Chapter 37

      Chapter 38

      Chapter 39

      Chapter 40

      Chapter 41

      Chapter 42

      Chapter 43

      Chapter 44

      Chapter 45

      Chapter 46

      Chapter 47

      Chapter 48

      Chapter 49

      Chapter 50

      Chapter 51

      Chapter 52

      Chapter 53

      Chapter 54

      Chapter 55

      Chapter 56

      Chapter 57

      Chapter 58

      Chapter 59

      Chapter 60

      More from Diane Capri

      About The Author

      Lee Child: The Reacher Report

      -

      Dedication

      Perpetually, for Lee Child, with unrelenting gratitude.

      -

      Dear Friends,

      Tracking Jack is the nineteenth novel in my Hunt for Jack Reacher Series, and I couldn’t be more excited for you to read it! More than five million readers already love the Hunt for Jack Reacher Series books—including Jack Reacher’s creator, Lee Child. Thank heavens! Whew!

      The first question new readers usually ask me is how I’m allowed to write about Jack Reacher. The short answer is that Lee Child and I are friends, and he’s a big fan of my work. I write these books with his full support, for which I’m eternally and unrelentingly grateful. I’ve included his Reacher Report at the end of this novel in case you’re not signed up to receive email from Lee directly (and you can sign up to hear from him on his website if you’d like to).

      I hope you’ll see right away why amazing #1 worldwide publishing phenomenon Lee Child calls my books "Full of thrills and tension, but smart and human, too." And why Lee gave the series an enthusiastic two thumbs up when he said, Kim Otto is a great, great character. I love her!

      A word of caution, though. Lee Child also suggests that you Make coffee. You’ll read all night.

      The second question I often hear is about the sourcebooks for my stories. As many of you already know, every Hunt for Jack Reacher Series novel uses one of Lee Child’s Reacher novels as its sourcebook. I’m not writing sequels here, though. FBI Special Agent Kim Otto has a totally new story every time, and that story spins off to a life of its own.

      The Tracking Jack’s sourcebook is Gone Tomorrow.

      The sourcebooks are fun to read either before or after my Hunt for Jack Reacher Series books. Each of my books is a complete story, and, like Lee Child’s original novels, my books do not need to be read in any particular order. (Although many readers enjoy reading the books in publication order.)

      A list of sourcebooks and publication order can be found in the back of this book here and on my website here: https://dianecapri.com/books/free-book-list-pdf/

      The third most frequent question I get is when the next Hunt for Jack Reacher book will be published. Tracking Jack is the twenty-first book in my series, consisting of three exciting short reads and eighteen novels. I’m working on book number twenty-three, novel number twenty, now. There’s a link to preorder the next novel at the end of this book, so you won’t miss out! You can find a complete list of all my books here: http://dianecapri.com/books/

      Please sign up for my mailing list to receive advance notice of new releases and lots of other exclusive stuff for reading group members only. You can do that here: http://dianecapri.com/get-involved/get-my-newsletter/

      While you’re waiting for a new Hunt for Jack Reacher Series book, please give my other books a try. I believe you’ll enjoy them just as much. And either way, let me know what you think. You can write to me anytime, and I hope you will. I’d love to get to know you better. You can always reach me here: http://dianecapri.com/get-involved/message/

      If you enjoy my books, please do recommend them to your friends who love to read mystery/thriller/suspense, too.

      Meanwhile, thanks so much for reading. It’s an honor and a pleasure to write for readers like you!

      Caffeinate & Carry On!

      Diane Capri

      -

      Gone Tomorrow

      By Lee Child

      Word on the street is it’s all about a file on a USB, Theresa Lee said.

      Close enough, Reacher replied.

      Do you know where it is?

      Close enough.

      Where is it?

      You’ll figure it out.

      Do you really know? Docherty figures you don’t. He figures you’re trying to bluff your way out of trouble.

      Docherty is clearly a very cynical man.

      Cynical or right?

      I know where it is, Reacher said again.

      So go get it, Lee challenged.

      -

      Cast of Characters

      Kim Otto

      Carlos Gaspar

      Charles Cooper

      Reggie Smithers

      Lamont Finlay

      Ed Docherty

      Daisy Hawkins

      Melissa Black

      Marcus Molina

      Theresa Lee

      Zoe Seltzer

      Eugene Cannon

      John Sansom

      and

      Jack Reacher

      -

      Chapter 1

      Friday, June 17

      Atlanta

      Swaying with the tram’s movement while feeling the familiar hum beneath his feet, Ed Docherty rode the crowded Plane Train through Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson Airport. He scanned the faces around him, ever vigilant. Habit of a lifetime.

      The car was crowded with travelers. Singles and small groups. Business passengers headed home. Families, couples, adventurers, all paying little attention to their surroundings. Living in their own heads or focused on electronic devices, probably.

      He noticed a couple arguing quietly. A mother soothing her baby. A man in a suit tapping on his phone. In short, nothing obviously remarkable or noteworthy.

      Docherty adjusted his stance as the tram slowed. His body moved with the rhythm, instinctively, naturally.

      He leaned against a pole, arms crossed. A young kid tugged at his father’s sleeve, pointing at the passing lights outside. The father nodded absently, eyes glazed with fatigue.

      Docherty shifted his gaze to the electronic sign crawling in lights above the doors. It flashed the name of the next stop. He checked his watch. Time moved differently in transit between places.

      A pleasant human voice spoke over the intercom announcing the next terminal, which was not his stop. He was headed toward the end of the line to catch his connecting flight to Tampa. He stood aside to allow passengers to exit.

      After a few moments, the doors slid closed. The tram jolted slightly and resumed its course. He felt the pull, the gentle sway. He steadied himself while watching the passing lights, concrete, and people milling around.

      A family of four got on at the next stop. Kids chattering excitedly, parents looking harried but happy. Docherty smiled to himself, remembering days like that when his kids were small. Simpler times. Before the divorce. Before his daughter moved away. Before his son died in the war.

      He focused on the rhythm of the journey. The tram, the people, the steady movement forward. It was a brief respite, a pause in the rush of life.

      His phone buzzed in his pocket. He ignored it, preferring the quiet, the momentary peace. There would be time for calls later.

      Docherty spotted her as the tram lurched around a bend. A woman. Petite. Dark hair, dark eyes. Wearing a heavy coat despite the stifling summer heat. She looked anxious. Restless.

      He studied her reflection in the window. Watched her fidget with her sleeves. Check her watch compulsively. Sweat beaded on her forehead and dripped down her temple.

      A memory flashed through his mind. The subway. New York. Years ago. A case he’d worked when he was NYPD. Before he retired.

      A suspected suicide bomber.

      Similar woman wearing a different coat, but the nervous energy was the same.

      He was not in the subway car, but he’d watched the CCTV so many times the memory had embedded in his brain.

      Jack Reacher had saved lives that night. He’d recognized the threat and took action.

      The wrong action.

      Gut wrenching horror had followed.

      Docherty’s stomach clenched. A cold tingle crept up his spine.

      Like before, something about this woman was off. He felt it instinctively.

      But was he feeling intuition or paranoia?

      He tried to shake the uneasy déjà vu. Told himself he was jumping to conclusions. Overreacting based on a vague similarity and traumatic memories.

      The fear was ridiculous, surely.

      But he couldn’t quite convince himself. Couldn’t ignore the dread knotting his gut. The nagging certainty that something wasn’t right.

      The tram swayed. The woman swayed with it. Muttered something.

      Docherty strained to hear over the rattle and hum of the tram and the noise of the other passengers. His hearing wasn’t the best. He couldn’t make out her words.

      Look away, Ed, he muttered silently. Mind your own business. There could be a hundred explanations. None of them dangerous.

      His hand settled near his concealed sidearm anyway. An unconscious reflex. He could feel the ghost of the long-ago subway killer’s coat skimming his fingertips.

      Instinct warred with logic. Observation with bias. Memory with the present moment.

      A woman in the wrong coat on a summer day.

      Maybe that’s all she was.

      But after decades with NYPD and his private security work since, his very experienced gut told him otherwise.

      Insisted something was wrong.

      Very wrong.

      Screamed danger.

      Just like that other time.

      The tram slowed again. His stop was coming up.

      He had a choice to make.

      And not much time to make it.

      Docherty kept his eyes on the woman, watching her without appearing to watch. He was good at that. He noticed everything, filing it away in his mental catalog of suspicious activity.

      If you see something, do something. The mantra of every New Yorker after 9/11.

      She couldn’t keep still. Hands clenching and unclenching. Fingers drumming a frantic beat against her thigh.

      Her gaze flickered around the tram car, alighting on every passenger, every exit, every window. Assessing. Planning.

      She gripped her bag tightly to her chest like a shield. Or precious cargo. White knuckled. The fabric strained.

      Docherty’s own grip tightened on the pole. Tension coiled in his muscles, ready to spring into action. But he needed something concrete. To be sure.

      The tram jostled as it slowed for the next stop. Passengers swayed.

      The woman stood and stumbled. Caught herself. Her coat gaped open for a split second.

      That’s when he saw them. Wires. Colorful. Tangled. Snaking out from beneath her coat. Disappearing into her bag.

      His blood ran cold as his heart hammered against his ribs.

      No doubt now. She was wired.

      What was in the bag?

      Adrenaline surged through him. The world narrowed to this moment, this threat. Everything else fell away.

      He was moving before he realized it. Shouldering through the oblivious crowd. Laser focused.

      Passengers moved aside as he made his way through. Panic rippled through the car when they noticed his determined march.

      But Docherty only saw her.

      It all crystalized in his mind with terrifying clarity.

      The bomb.

      The trigger.

      The lives at stake.

      He had to stop her. Had to end this.

      Before it was too late.

      Before she turned the tram into a screaming metal coffin.

      There was no time for backup. For negotiation. For anything but action. Decisive. Immediate.

      Lives hung in the balance. Innocent lives.

      Docherty was the only thing standing between them and oblivion.

      And he would not fail them. Not this time. Not ever again.

      He was four feet away when she looked up. Met his gaze. Saw his intent.

      Her eyes widened. Her right hand plunged into her bag.

      He lunged forward, crashed into her, and his momentum carried her to the ground.

      He grappled with her, trying to gain control.

      She fought back, thrashing and clawing at his face with one hand while the other remained firmly in the bag. Was she holding a detonator?

      Stop resisting! he grunted, struggled for a better grip.

      For a tiny woman, she was surprisingly strong and fierce.

      She snarled something in a language he couldn’t understand and lashed out with her elbow catching him in the jaw.

      Docherty’s head snapped back, but he didn’t let go.

      Chaos erupted around them. Passengers screamed and scrambled away from the struggling pair, tripping over each other in their haste. A few brave souls tried to intervene, but Docherty waved them off.

      Stay back! he shouted.

      Passengers froze in shock, eyes wide and mouths agape. A few fumbled for their phones, recording the scene with shaking hands. Children cried out as parents tried to soothe their fears.

      The tram slowed as it approached the next stop. The recorded voice announced the arrival, and the doors slid open.

      Docherty ignored it all, focusing only on the woman in his grasp.

      He shifted his weight, using his bigger, heavier body to his advantage.

      With one practiced move, he pinned her to the ground, wrenching her free arm behind her back. She bucked and twisted, but he held fast, his knee pressed firmly into her spine. If she held a detonator in her hand, he knew these might be his last moments on earth.

      Everyone stay calm! he yelled over the commotion. The situation is under control. Police are on the way. Just give us space!

      A moment later, a team of airport security officers swarmed the tram, weapons drawn, assessing the threat.

      Over here! Docherty called, jerking his chin toward the woman.

      The officers surrounded them, forming a tight perimeter. One of them, a burly man with a salt-and-pepper beard, knelt down to cuff the woman’s free hand while Docherty kept her pinned.

      I think she’s got a bomb. Found wires under her coat, Docherty said quietly through labored breaths. When the officer eyed him suspiciously, he added, Former NYPD. Retired.

      Thanks, the officer said, giving Docherty a nod of respect. We’ll take it from here.

      If she does have a device, it could be rigged to blow. Docherty hauled the woman to her feet, keeping a firm grip on her arm until the officer had her secured.

      Every law enforcement agency and airport security team in the country had protocols for such situations. The security team wasted no time implementing them.

      Docherty stood aside as they searched the woman thoroughly, emptying her pockets and patting her down with practiced efficiency. Wires, a detonator, and packets of suspicious substances tumbled out of her coat and the bag.

      She wasn’t holding the detonator, but it was within easy reach.

      Jesus, one of the younger officers breathed.

      They practically carried her away, still kicking and screaming in defiance. Docherty sagged against the wall as his muscles trembled with spent adrenaline.

      That had been close. Too damned close.

      He shuddered to think of the carnage that could have unfolded. The lives that would have been lost.

      But they’d stopped it. He’d stopped it. That’s what mattered.

      He only had a moment to draw breath before the second wave of armed responders flooded the area.

      -

      Chapter 2

      Saturday, June 18

      Atlanta

      A swarm of law enforcement poured in, which meant the bomb scare had rocketed up the priority chain. They zeroed in on Docherty like bloodhounds on a scent. They led him to a quiet corner and began rapid fire questions faster than he could keep them straight.

      What’s your name?

      Ed Docherty.

      ID?

      He pulled out his wallet to show his driver’s license and his old NYPD credentials. The officer took both and handed them to a second officer, who scurried off to verify.

      What happened here? the first officer asked. How did you spot the suspect and what made you believe she carried an explosive device?

      Docherty walked them through it all, step by step. The woman’s suspicious behavior. The telltale bulges and wires peeking from her coat. The reflexive lurch in his gut that had screamed danger.

      I’ve seen this kind of thing before. He shook his head. The nervous energy. The clothing. The way she was fidgeting with something in her bag. All the signs were there.

      He could have said more. Could have told them about the twelve-point list the Israelis developed years ago used to identify suicide bombers.

      Eleven points if the suspect was a woman.

      But they probably already knew. Every law enforcement officer on the planet should have known. The less said now the better, if he wanted to get out of here tonight.

      The third officer, a woman with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense bearing, scribbled furiously in her notepad.

      You said you’ve seen this before, she pressed. What exactly did you mean by that?

      Docherty hesitated, painful memories threatening to resurface. Screams and smoke and blood. The choking taste of departmental failures. He pushed them back down, clenching his jaw.

      Yeah, he said finally. You could say that. Twenty years with NYPD working one of the top terror targets in the world. There are reasons I trusted my instincts on this one.

      The officers exchanged loaded looks, a whole conversation passing between them in the span of a glance.

      Alright, Mr. Docherty, the first officer said. We’ll need to take a full statement from you. Sorry for the inconvenience.

      Docherty swiped a weary hand down his face. He could already feel the weight settling into his bones. The questions, the implications, the breadcrumb trail of clues that always led to more trouble.

      Yeah, sure. I know the drill. Resigned to missing his flight to Tampa, he followed the female officer to a quiet room where he went through it all again, on video this time.

      Hours later, well past midnight, Docherty finally walked out of the airport police station. Statement signed, contact information left, duty done. For now.

      Cases like this tended to go on for years. He’d be an old man before it was all over. Good Samaritans had no idea how the system could chew them up and spit them out. Docherty knew exactly what to expect.

      He collapsed into the driver’s seat of the rental car and let his head fall back against the headrest with a sigh. All he’d wanted was a smooth flight and a quiet night before his meetings tomorrow. Instead he’d landed smack in the middle of a nightmare.

      His phone chirped. He fumbled it out of his pocket and squinted at the screen. Theresa Lee, his former partner. He’d planned to meet her for dinner, but he was beyond late now. He hit the call back button.

      Theresa, it’s me. I’m sorry, I—

      Where are you? She cut him off, her voice sharp with worry. I’ve been blowing up your phone for hours. The news is showing something about a guy tackling a terrorist at the airport. Please tell me that wasn’t you.

      Yeah, you can take the cop out of the NYPD, but… Docherty pinched the bridge of his nose. I’m fine, but it’s a long story. I’m on my way to the hotel now. I was planning to fly to Tampa after dinner, but I missed my connection. I’ll be here overnight. Let’s have breakfast in the morning. I’ll fill you in when I see you.

      There was a long pause. Why do you always have to play the hero, Ed? You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days.

      He chuckled wearily.

      Theresa hung up and Docherty tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. He took a deep breath to calm the whirlwind in his head.

      He started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. It was late. Traffic was light. He was distracted, reviewing the events at the airport again in his head.

      At first, the drive was easy. Uneventful.

      Until it wasn’t.

      As his rental approached the businessman’s hotel a few miles from the airport, Docherty’s world exploded.

      At the exact moment Docherty’s sedan sailed into the intersection on the green light, an oncoming driver accelerated to beat the red light.

      Docherty never saw it coming.

      The double decker private coach slammed into the side of his electric sedan at full speed, crumpling the metal like tissue paper.

      Glass shattered, steel screamed, and Docherty’s sedan flipped over in a dizzying spiral of chaos.

      Silence. Stillness.

      Nothingness.

      Docherty awakened slowly. His head was a ringing muddle of confusion and pain. He blinked once, twice, trying to clear the haze. Trying to remember.

      After a few moments he realized he was slumped over the steering wheel in the mangled vehicle. His vision was blurred and his hearing muffled like he was underwater.

      He could taste blood in his mouth, feel it trickling from his nose and ears.

      Everything hurt.

      With great effort, he turned his head, searching, for his phone. He needed his phone. But it was gone, lost somewhere in the twisted wreckage.

      He heard sirens in the distance, drawing closer.

      Help was coming. He just needed to hold on.

      His eyes fell on the shattered remnants of his phone lying just out of reach, the screen somehow still glowing faintly.

      The world began to fade at the edges, darkness creeping

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