Quotes from Marcus Sakey

in defensive

The glass wall behind must have blown out as well, four stories of lethal shards surfing the roar of air and fire.

The world worked because people agreed to believe it worked.

Arms wide and palms empty, hyperconscious of how many weapons were trained on him, Cooper was thinking about all the ways things hadn't gone as planned. It had been a busy month. A busy year. He'd spent half of it undercover, away from his children, hunting the most wanted man in America. But when he'd found John Smith, Cooper

He took out the sidearm. Thumbed the magazine release. A full load, hollow-points. Body armor would stop them, but if they hit flesh, they'd shred on impact, tiny razors spinning inside fragile tissue. Two spare magazines, though why he would need that many rounds he couldn't imagine.

Every step stranger. The bones of buildings had torn through their stone skin and lay exposed. Collapsed walls buried the cobblestones. Shattered glass dusted the scene with razor-edged glitter. The dust clouds were lit brighter by a dozen fires burning out of sight.

Cooper spun on his heel and walked away. He walked without direction or purpose, without thought or plan. His companions were Frustration and Rage, and together the three of them stalked Manhattan.

He seemed the kind of guy who ran through his whole life heading for something more important.

baggage. You can get a fresh start." "Yeah. Until the brother of someone I killed sets my house on fire. No, if I have to spend my whole life watching my back, I'll do it somewhere prettier than Wyoming." He glanced at the clock, then closed his eyes. "I'm gonna crash for a few." A long minute passed

Heavy clouds quilted the world as Ethan turned off the Honda.

knew what you meant." "Think about it, Will. That was the end. We've seen the whole span, beginning to end. Life to nothingness. We know every step of it. Every fading footfall." She paused. "And still don't really know anything, do we?

I could walk out of here Chuck Bukowski.

bullet missing your head by an inch, you never forget

like this. A chance to

It's like the parable about a man who dreamed he was a butterfly. When he woke, he couldn't be sure that he wasn't a butterfly dreaming he was a man. And

Reminded you that everyone had their own reality, and yours was just one version.

Despite what the last fifty years of American policy would suggest, 'They hit us so we're hitting back' is not a military strategy. I was taught that successful wars are waged for measurable goals. What's the goal here? I'd really like to know. What does victory look like?

beginning. Not just in Chicago

Cooper, I'm sorry. Looks like one

Seventy-five thousand?

Turning the other cheek was a lovely sentiment, but in the real world, it mostly resulted in matching bruises. Better

the trick to chess is to be paying more attention to what the other side is doing.

They went back to looking straight ahead. A row of bottles lined the back of the bar, and behind them faded snapshots had been tacked up in a collage.

He hated clocks that ticked; every click a moment gone. Couldn't imagine sleeping in a room with one, drifting into unconsciousness to the sound of life slipping away.