Jack Reacher books are great fun (although this one isn’t one of the best in the series). Yet I do feel a bit empty afterward each time. Its up a notch from watching TV, but still I feel I’m wasting time with something that’s too close to pure entertainment. Is this the male version of Sophie Kinsella? Yeah you learn a bit about tanks and guns and how to break legs, but there’s nothing challenging in it, nothing really new, nothing learned from reading it (Unlike — if you want to compare it to a similar book — The Day of the Jackal from Frederick Forsyth). It could have been more in-depth on the Berlin Wall or the politics of the army, but it failed to do so. Instead, The Enemy is just testosterone-drenched pages smelling like sweat and gunpowder, across a plotline that stalls a lot in the middle.