Hunter: A Thriller (44 page)

If you’re tempted to skip this section—please don’t. Allow me to introduce you to this book’s legion of
uncredited
co-authors.

HUNTER
was graced by input and inspiration from many people—some of whom don’t yet even know it. It’s time that they did.

Let me begin with the thriller authors who, over the decades, helped to fuel my imagination and fashion my values. As a young man, I was captivated by the tales from seminal action writers Alistair MacLean, Desmond Bagley, Donald Hamilton, and Mickey
Spillane
. A long list of others contributed to my understanding of thriller-writing, but I’ll limit this accounting to some best-selling authors with whom I’ve had personal interactions.

Foremost among them, let me single out Brad Thor. Not only is Brad a first-rate thriller writer; he is also a gentleman of profound convictions, intellectual depth, personal charm, and enormous generosity of spirit. His quiet, unsung gifts of time, counsel, and personal donations to worthy causes proves that good guys finish
first.

The same can be said of Vince Flynn, another great American patriot, great writer, and great human being. I was privileged to interview him for a magazine article some years back, and Vince’s life story is an inspiration to any author facing formidable personal challenges.

Thriller master Lee Child also graciously gave me a full afternoon of his valuable time—while on deadline, no less—for a long magazine interview in 2007. His keen intelligence, delightfully dry wit, and sage advice made the occasion memorable. But I thank him most of all for creating the iconic action hero Jack
Reacher
.

Over a year ago, I ran into another legendary thriller writer at a book signing in
Annapolis
: Stephen Hunter. I am in awe of this man’s writing ability: He simply has no authorial weaknesses. His “Bob Lee Swagger” has become another fiction icon. I paid homage to Mr. Hunter and his sniper hero in the pages of this novel, in some pretty obvious ways.

But that applies to the others I’ve just mentioned—in case you didn’t notice (check out Matt Malone’s aliases). I trust that none of them objects to my none-too-subtle tributes. I also treasure the fact that they inscribed their own books to me with admonitions to finish mine. As Stephen Hunter elegantly put it: “Robert—Finish your goddamned novel.” Yes, sir.

Then there’s the mistress of spy thrillers, Gayle
Lynds
, whom I met at a writers’ conference. Not only did Gayle boost my morale, she also introduced me to a CIA source that proved hugely helpful. Thank-
yous
also go to wonderful thriller writers Mark
Greaney
and Neil Russell, both of whom contributed kind words and the stellar examples of their own work.

If you aren’t yet reading these authors, you don’t know what you’re missing.

Many other people deserve kudos for anything that’s good in this novel.

My great appreciation to Alan C. More, who managed to walk me through the seventh floor at Langley—metaphorically speaking—without revealing a single national-security secret, while providing the kind of descriptive detail that every thriller author cherishes. Also, my gratitude to a couple of buddies at intelligence agencies that will go nameless, for their input, advice, corrections, and reassurance that I haven’t
totally
misrepresented the spy biz.

To Sally
Torbert
, who spent an afternoon years ago vividly re-creating for me the Princeton campus and its atmosphere, thereby helping Matt Malone get an Ivy League education and wander into the campus bar where he was recruited into the CIA.
America
thanks you, Sally.

To the late philosopher and novelist
Ayn
Rand, for having been the most profound influence on my philosophy, values, and literary preferences. Some may even see a wee bit of her own fictional vigilante,
Ragnar
Danneskjöld
. in Dylan Hunter.

To the individuals who inspired and educated me about taking the “
indie
” route to publish this book: self-publishing gurus Joe
Konrath
, Robin Sullivan, and Dean Wesley Smith. Special thanks to Robin and her talented author-husband, Michael J. Sullivan, for their personal advice and encouragement.

To graphic designer Allen Chiu for a
fantastic
book cover and header for my fiction
blog
. If you need a great graphic designer, contact Allen at:
[email protected]. And t
o Joshua
Zader
of Atlas Web Development (http://www.atlaswebdev.com/), who designed the
blog
to my own quirky requirements.

To Nick Ambrose at www.everything-indie.com, for formatting and designing the interior for this book and
ebook
. And to Rick Hogan, a first-rate artist and designer, for his gracious support and generous encouragement.

Howard
Dickman
, now of the editorial staff at the
Wall Street Journal
, gave me my first break as a writer by bringing me into the pages of
Reader’s Digest.
Then, as my editor, he shepherded all my articles through the editorial minefields to publication. Eternal gratitude unto you, Howard.

Kudos, too, to the designers of the amazing creative-writing software package I used, “
WriteItNow
.” It proved to be indispensable. (www.ravensheadservices.com)

Then there are the folks who saved my butt during the editing of this book: my “beta” readers. Their wisdom, input, and critical reading of various versions of the manuscript have spared me endless embarrassments. Some volunteered their time despite difficult personal circumstances. There’s not enough space to detail their individual contributions, so just let me list their names here: Shawn Reynolds, Larry Abrams, Frank
Schulwolf
, Rose Robbins
Schild
, Jeanette
Traeg
, Mark Gardner, Sean Killian, Gregory Wall, Karen O’Shea, Gabrielle
Suglia
, Francisco Villalobos, and Robert L. Jones. Friends, there’s no way to thank you enough.

Finally, to family and friends who have encouraged and endured me over the years:

To the Slate family and their spouses, for their love and support: Don and Barbara; Steve and Janice; Candy and Ray; Shelley and Steve; Mike and Jan; Pete and Melissa; and all their kids. Thanks for welcoming this congenital loner into your tribe.

To my old pal Don Heath, a great friend when I needed one, and just as valuable a “beta reader.” Thanks forever, Don. And to Margaret
Bidinotto
, for all the things too personal to mention here. I’m grateful, Margaret.

To Chris Doffing, who wanted me to write more books, and who assisted me generously on another book project—thank you, Chris.

To my dear, long-time friends Henry
Scuoteguazza
and Claudia Leone. Given your recent personal circumstances, I’m deeply moved that you took out time to read the novel in advance and give me your kind verdicts. You’re the best. Hugs to you both.

To another college buddy, Steve Lord, and his lovely wife Cindy. Steve has been a cheerleader to me, and much more, throughout my adult life. Well, I finally did it, my friend.

To my closest confidant, Alan Paul. In my worst, most isolated moments, you’ve been there to toss a lifeline. In my happiest, most joyous moments, you’ve been there to celebrate with me. I’m grateful for every moment of our friendship, Alan. I don’t know what my life would have been without you, but it surely would have been a lesser life.

To my late parents, who wanted better opportunities for me than they’d had for themselves—and who struggled to make sure I got them: my loving memories.

And to Luna. Yep, she’s real, folks. I’ll post a photo on the
blog
.

No man could boast a finer brother than mine. A lifetime of love goes across the miles to
Colorado
, and to Ed
Bidinotto
. We’ve come a long way, you and I, haven’t we? Congratulations on your own recent book, and I hope you enjoy this one. And love to your fiancée, Connie.

No man could boast a better daughter than the one I’ve got, either. Katrina, dear, I’ll never be able to fully express just how proud I am of you. I love you and wish you and Jason every happiness—wishes I also extend to my granddaughter,
Doria
, and to the new baby on its way. (I can’t wait!)

Finally, to the most important person in my life: the woman who made this book possible.

I’ve dedicated
HUNTER
to one named person, my wife Cynthia. At a time of turmoil in both our lives—a period when most wives would have been pushing their husbands to chase the phantom of “financial security”—Cynthia stood behind me and pushed me to go for my dreams, instead. It was an act of love, of respect, of trust, and of remarkable bravery.

I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve you, my
Cyn
—or even if I have. All I know is that you bring out the best in me.

And that’s why this one’s for you.

—Robert
Bidinotto

June 2011