1 - Experience

The mayor had run on a law-and-order agenda, and he'd brought in a tough, street-smart police commissioner who demanded results. The two men shared a passion for statistics that proved they were winning the fight against crime. A hat trick of killings in forty-eight hours was bad PR for the department and the city.

"Next," said Walsh, making notes on his printout. "Fourteen dump trucks stolen from a yard on Staten Island." He looked up from the sheet. "Fourteen? Somebody going into the con­struction business?"

"John's landlady was gonna clean his apart­ment," Lambert said, not skipping a beat.

Kowalski and Walsh broke up laughing, and Cobb managed a smile.

"Insurance fraud," said McClane, massaging his temples.

They stared at him. Even in this state, he was still a step ahead of the rest of them.

He opened his eyes and lit a cigarette. "By now the trucks are in California, and the contrac­tor's collecting insurance, which he'll split with the thieves. They've run it in Jersey for years."

Cobb sighed. John McClane was the best cop he'd ever worked with. A mind like a computer, a memory like an elephant's, a steady hand with a gun. A loner and a hot dog who always had to have it his way. Now, a drunk, and soon, an ex-cop.


- Die Hard with a Vengeance, Chapter 1