I, sniper

Stephen Hunter, 1946-

Large print - 2010

Special Agent Nick Memphis enlists the help of retired Marine sniper Bob Lee Swagger to unravel a sophisticated conspiracy involving the deaths of four famed '60s radicals--a conspiracy that would require the highest level of warcraft by the most superb special operations professionals.

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LARGE PRINT/FICTION/Hunter, Stephen
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Subjects
Published
Thorndike, Me. : Center Point Pub 2010.
Language
English
Main Author
Stephen Hunter, 1946- (-)
Edition
Large print edition
Item Description
Originally published: 2009.
Physical Description
591 pages (large print) ; 23 cm
ISBN
9781602856547
Contents unavailable.
Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Bob Lee Swagger, former Vietnam sniper, has been out of his element lately tangling with a killer who uses his car as a weapon (Night of Thunder, 2008) and swapping his rifle for a sword (The 47th Samurai, 2007), but this time, he's back in his wheelhouse: sniper versus sniper. It starts with three assassinations of Vietnam-era protestors with obvious links to real-life figures (an actress who cavorted in Hanoi; a convicted bomber turned Chicago professor; and an antiwar comic and singer). The suspect in the shootings, another celebrated sniper, is tracked by the FBI, only to be found dead, apparently a suicide. But Bob isn't buying it; the case against the dead man is too airtight, the kill shots too perfect for an aging warrior working without today's computer-powered scopes. So even when the FBI backs off, Bob Lee marches on, determined to exonerate the framed sniper, force the hand of the man behind the scenes, and turn the tide of public opinion, now set firmly against what he calls the brotherhood of life-takers. It's a troubling moral position, of course, the idea of the sniper as a man of courage, and Hunter makes the most of it, demanding that the reader rethink common cultural assumptions about good and evil. Those philosophical underpinnings give the narrative depth, but finally, as all Bob Lee fans know, it comes down to straight killing time. And so it does, in a ramped-up, high-tech High Noon finale that will leave even unsympathetic readers gasping. As always, Hunter makes it work with precise, detail-rich prose that strips the faux glamour from gun fighting and leaves only the skills of the combatants set against the horrors they wreak.--Ott, Bill Copyright 2009 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Bestseller Hunter keeps Bob Lee Swagger, his home-spun, hard-charging hero, doing what Swagger does best in his sixth novel to feature the former Marine sniper: thwarting the authorities, staying loyal to a disappearing code of honor and hunting down evildoers who deserve everything they get. When a sniper shoots dead Joan Flanders (think Jane Fonda) and three other victims associated with the 1960s peace movement, the FBI decides the killer is "the most famous sniper in America," Carl Hitchcock, who's gone nuts and decided to up his total number of kills. Swagger soon realizes that Hitchcock, a fellow ex-Marine and Vietnam vet, is innocent, while the real killer, who's using cutting-edge, electronic sniper gear, is still at large. After two inferior Bob Lee Swagger books, The 47th Samurai (2007) and Night of Thunder (2008), Hunter is back at the top of his game. He's the best on the subject of guns and what damage bullets can do to human flesh. (Dec.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review

Someone is killing the aging antiwar radicals of the 1970s and using incredible sniping skills to do it. With bodies piling up, the FBI calls on the skills and knowledge of Bob Lee Swagger (last seen in Night of Thunder), who quickly determines that an American war hero has been framed and then murdered. The chase is on to find out who's responsible and why. As with all of Hunter's Swagger novels, there is much more than meets the eye, with cover-ups and nasty villains galore. Swagger is a loner, a paladin, and a violent and politically incorrect corrector of injustice, a cousin to Lee Child's Jack Reacher. Verdict Hunter's thrillers are always taut, exciting, and well written, and his latest is no exception. There's also a lot of gun and tech talk as Swagger uses decades' worth of skills to stay a step or three ahead of the baddies. Swagger fans will not be disappointed.-Robert Conroy, Warren, MI (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review

In his guns-a-poppin' latest, Hunter pits his series hero (Night of Thunder, 2007, etc.) against a nest of sharp-shooting vipers. For a while, Carl Hitchcock was viewed as the ultimate warrior: a super marine, a sniper extraordinaire, none more famous. Credited with 93 kills in Vietnam, he traveled the gun-show circuit, basked in gunslinger glory, sold autographs, raked in testimonial money and was an authentic NRA rock star. But then Hitchcock cracked, went rogue, took to taking down certain of those who, back in the day, had been in the vanguard of the anti-Vietnam war movement; inevitably, the media tagged him the "Peacenik Sniper." Eventually, after relentless pursuit by the FBI, Hitchcock saw no way out but to shoot himself. Or so the narrative went. Persuasive as it was to virtually all, it left Bob Lee Swagger unsettled. In his view, a renegade Carl Hitchcock was a contradiction in terms. The behavior ascribed to him was a betrayal of the code of warrior honor. In short, it was not "the sniper way." It smacked of conspiracy, dark and dirty. Asked by FBI good guy Nick Memphis to help with the investigation, Bob Lee soon proves himself right while proving to others that no dark-and-dirty conspiracy, no matter how powerfully mounted, is safe so long as there are knightly snipers to keep the faith. Ah, but there are wicked snipers, too, just as sharp-eyed, trigger fingers every bit as quick. Really? Well, dust off the OK Corral. Even the somewhat squeamish (11 shivery pages amount to a tutorial in how to endure water-boarding), and even certifiable gun-dummies, may once again find chivalric, heroic Bob Lee just about irresistible. Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

1 TO JASMINE JULIA AND ALISON'S REVENGE WAS COMPLETE. They'd taken out the biggest threat at school. Jasmine King had been expelled from Canterwood Crest Academy. I'd been standing in Jasmine's empty dorm room for a long time. Just staring. I leaned my back against the wall and drew my knees to my chest, lowering myself to the bare wooden floor--shaking my head in amazement. It had happened so fast. I'd gone to the indoor arena to practice and had been using Mr. Conner's camera to film my session. Jas hadn't known the camera was on and she'd started to brag about how she'd framed Julia and Alison by making it look as if they'd cheated on their history test. I'd texted Julia and Alison about the tape and they'd taken it to the headmistress. I'd just left the Trio's suite after a this-close-to-tears Heather had thanked me for saving her friends. Jas was gone. I remembered her moving into my dorm and how I'd felt--I'd hated that she had transferred from Wellington Prep to Canterwood. It felt like she'd done it just to torture the Trio and me with her presence. Now, there was no trace of her in her old room. It was as if she'd never existed. Part of me felt a little sorry for her that she'd been yanked away to a new school, but mostly, I didn't care. She deserved what she got for everything she'd done to us. I reached for my phone to text Julia, Alison, and Heather. Everything had happened in an instant--Heather probably had no clue that Jasmine had been expelled. But before I could start a text, my phone buzzed. Come 2 r suite & celebrate. ~H That almost made me laugh out loud. Of course Heather knew. I should have known that. She was aware of everything that went on at school. K. B there in a sec. I sent my text. I got up and stuck my head of out the doorway and looked down the hallway toward my room. I'd planned to spend the rest of the evening with Paige, my BFF and roommate, but I couldn't say no to celebrating Jas's departure--something I'd hoped for since the day she'd arrived. I stepped out of Jas's old room and left the door wide open behind me. I left Winchester and walked back toward Orchard. I hurried, then caught myself. I surely wasn't excited about hanging out with the Trio--it was just glee over Jasmine. Right? But maybe a tiny part of me wanted to hang with them. We still weren't friends, but things had sort of changed. I walked across campus and marveled at how gorgeous it was, especially with the fiery orange-red sunset. The manicured lawns were trimmed like golf course grass and the dark lacquered fence rails gleamed. Every inch of the winding sidewalks looked as if someone had just swept them. No matter how many times I crossed the campus, it never felt any less prestigious. There was a reputation to uphold as one of the top East Coast boarding schools. When I got to Orchard Hall, I stared at it for a minute. The brick building was four stories tall and each window had a stark white frame with a small ledge underneath. Black shutters on either side contrasted with the frames and the rooms on the top floor had peaks over the windows. Two chimneys rose from the back of the building. A black old-fashioned street lantern was on each side of the front of the building. Soon, their light would illuminate the heavy wooden door that led into the dorm hall. I took a breath before opening the door. Callie, my ex-BFF lived here, and the last thing I wanted was to run into her. But I pushed the thoughts away--tonight wasn't about Callie--it was about celebrating Jasmine's exit from Canterwood. I walked down the glossy wooden floor and stopped in front of the Trio's door. I'd barely knocked when a bouncy Alison pulled the door open. "Sasha!" she said, grabbing me in a hug. "I'm so happy for you," I said. She let me go and I walked into Julia, Heather, and Alison's living room. "You can start riding tomorrow." From her spot on the couch, Julia smiled at me. "Yeah, I bet we can." She took a breath, glancing down before looking back up at me. "Thanks." I nodded. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you before." Julia shook her head. "Don't be dumb. You're the one who saved us--you don't have to apologize for anything." Heather appeared from her room and motioned for me to sit on the couch. On the coffee table in front of us, there was a bottle of ginger ale and four plastic champagne flutes. "Let's toast," Heather said. She tossed her long blond hair over one shoulder and sat beside me. Julia poured ginger ale into all of our flutes and we raised them. "To Jasmine," Heather said. "To Jasmine," I echoed with the Trio. © 2010 Jessica Burkhart Excerpted from I, Sniper by Stephen Hunter All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.