Lee Child
MatchUp
INTRODUCTION
NORMALLY, I’M NOT MUCH OF a joiner. But back in 2005, when I was asked to be part of a fledging group of writers who were forming a new association, I immediately said yes. It was called International Thriller Writers (ITW), and the whole idea intrigued me. Finally, an organization devoted entirely to the thriller genre. I signed up, becoming a founding member. I was so onboard I accepted a position on the first board of directors, then, a few years after that, served as copresident. I have to say, I’ve enjoyed every minute of my involvement. So when I was asked to be the editor of this anthology, I jumped at the chance.
Everything about ITW is different. Its motto is a warning to itself. When we imitate we fail. One of the organization’s greatest innovations was the elimination of dues to its members. Full membership (available to working thriller writers) has long been free. To support itself, ITW publishes anthologies. It began with Thriller (2006), edited by James Patterson, the first collection of thriller short stories ever, now regarded as one of the largest-selling anthologies of all time. Thriller 2 came in 2009, edited by Clive Cussler, then Love Is Murder in 2012, edited by Sandra Brown. In between those was a young-adult volume Fear (2010), spearheaded by R. L. Stine. ITW also made a name for itself in audio with The Chopin Manuscript (2007), edited by Jeffery Deaver, which won the Best Audio of the Year, and The Copper Bracelet released in 2009.
Then came FaceOff.
The pairing of branded writers, along with their iconic characters, in the same story. Twenty-three contributors, eleven adventures. Published in 2014, FaceOff became a New York Times bestseller. The idea was so popular that we try it again with eleven new pairs of branded writers, together with their iconic characters.
Only this time it’s male versus female.
A matchup.
And what fun.
The following pages are filled with some wonderfully unique tales. Once-in-a-lifetime pairings. Where else would Steve Berry’s Cotton Malone enter the magical world of Diana Gabaldon? Or my character, Jack Reacher, square off with Kathy Reich’s incomparable Temperance Brennan? Then there’s Lisa Scottoline’s feisty Philadelphia lawyer, Bennie Rosato’s, chance encounter with Nelson DeMille’s former-NYPD homicide detective, John Corey.
Eleven unique tales.
All a joy to read.
Each is preceded by an intro where I detail the process the team went through in melding their different characters. Many of the teams had never met each other before. None had ever written together. This is truly a novel experience—for both the writers and the readers. At the end are bios on the contributors, a chance for you to learn more about these amazingly talented individuals.
So settle in.
And enjoy.
MatchUp.
Lee Child
June 2017
SANDRA BROWN AND C. J. BOX
SANDRA BROWN BEGAN WRITING IN 1981. Before that she worked as a model and in television, including weathercasting and feature reporting on the nationally syndicated program PM Magazine. And though she’s published over seventy novels, with over eighty million copies in print worldwide, she admits to one handicap.
She’s short story challenged.
“It’s just not something I’ve written a whole lot of,” she says.
Luckily, C. J. Box does not suffer from that affliction, which made him the perfect partner for Sandra. Chuck is a Wyoming native and has worked as a ranch hand, surveyor, fishing guide, and small-town newspaper reporter, and he’s even owned an international tourism marketing firm. He has over twenty novels to his credit, and short stories are not unfamiliar. He also has a character, Joe Pickett, so the idea was to connect Sandra’s Lee Coburn with Pickett. By a stroke of great luck, at the end of Sandra’s 2011 novel Lethal, Coburn ended up in, of all places, Jackson Hole, Wyoming.
Which is Joe Pickett country.
Talk about fate.
Everything just got easier after that.
Together, Sandra and Chuck plotted the story. Then Chuck wrote the first draft and sent it to Sandra for an edit and rewrite. They went back and forth, until both were pleased with the outcome. Chuck’s comment summed it all up.
“Sandra was a dream to work with it.”
You’re going to like this unexpected encounter between two of the most rugged protagonists out there today. Both harken back to another time, and the story’s title poses an interesting question.
Honor & ...
HONOR & ...
WHEN JOE PICKETT SET OUT that morning, he hadn’t anticipated coming face-to-face with a killing machine.
It was an unseasonably warm late-September day. As a favor to another game warden, Joe was scouting the western slope of the Gros Ventre Range above Jackson Hole, deep in the black timber.
When he heard the staccato series of high snapping sounds in the distance, he reined his gelding Rojo to a stop and leaned forward in the saddle to listen with his head turned slightly to the southeast, the direction from which he thought the sounds had come.
For a time all Joe heard were Rojo’s snuffles and snorts as he caught his breath after their hard climb. Then, two heavy booms rolled through the trees at ground level, and Joe realized that what had started out as a routine day had turned potentially dangerous—for three reasons.
First, the sounds weren’t natural. It was a popular misconception that the mountain forests were silent because there were few people in them. Fact was, the wilderness was a riot of noise. Elk, moose, and grizzly and black bears broke through tree limbs and sometimes knocked over dead trees, not so much walking through the brush as crashing through it. Add to their racket chattering squirrels, shrieking hawks, and wolves and coyotes howling at a pitch that seemed designed to curdle human blood, and the mountains became damned noisy.
But there was a natural rhythm to the cacophony.
What Joe had heard intruded on that natural rhythm in a way that set his senses on high alert.
Second, the source of the sounds was curious. He was nearly sure he’d heard a flurry of semiautomatic gunshots from multiple weapons fired at once, followed by a pause. Then came the two heavy, high-caliber shots.
It didn’t compute.
He was well schooled on the firing sequences of hunters after big game. True sportsmen prided themselves on expending as few bullets as possible. It was about the hunt, and accuracy, not raking an animal with gunfire that would spoil the meat. Besides that, the opening of elk season on this particular mountain range was a week away.
Last, the area was remote and without roads. Down in the valley were thousands of rental cabins, camping sites, and hotels, all easily accessible. But it took an effort to get up here, this high in the mountains, and no one would go to the trouble without good reason.
The lawman in him wondered what that reason could be.
Of course, he could just leave it alone. This wasn’t even his district. The only reason he was in Teton County was because the local game warden, Bill Long, had asked him to help check on remote elk hunting camps because he couldn’t get to all of them before opening day.
Joe was granting the favor, partially in order to give his family—wife, Marybeth, and teenage daughters, Sheridan, Lucy, and April—a minivacation. Gauging by the number of shopping bags that were piling up in the corner of their hotel room, Joe figured he would lose money on the deal rather than make a little extra, but there were so few perks for his family in his line of work that if he could treat them to a few days in Jackson Hole, he was happy to do it.