The best of the genre is exemplified by a driving force of will. There you experience a relentless pace of action, conflict, and contest. The NBA Championship finals just concluded. LeBron James led the Cleveland Cavaliers over a potentially historic Golden State Warriors team in a Game 7 nail biter that wasn’t settled until a series of dramatic plays in the final moments. What we sports fans relish about this only pure form of reality television is the back and forth cage match that brings out both the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. Not much else compares. What Foreign Agentdoes so well is reproduce like emotions in scripted form. Kudos.
The adrenaline rush that runs constant throughout the story is a rare treat. This is a modern war story. Violent political conflict across the globe is a threat to American safety as the Untied States’ superpower influence becomes a pawn in the chess match that is power politics on steroids. As is true about most great chess games, this one involves Russians. Scot Harvath, as a deep cover operative, is the point man for the home team. A tribute to the superlative quality of this book is in part owed to Harvath’s character. He isn’t just cunning and highly competent. He also demonstrates an intellect generally presumed to be possessed by more refined, less violent members of the male species. So yes, readers get to have their beefcake and eat it too.
In a review of the preceding book in the series (see Code of Conduct), I criticized it’s lack of balance. Where was the romance in Harvath’s life? Is he little more than Batman redux? Well shut my mouth, because Harvath has come home. The dilemmas he faces, though serious, credible, and not simple to resolve, are none the less dealt with in satisfactory fashion.
What I didn’t like:
Did you ever witness one of the nagging complaints about professional boxing? How champion fighters too often scheduled miss matches with less than capable opponents in order to pad their paychecks while protecting their posteriors. I’m talking about patsies. Well Russia appears to be playing patsy here. Is Thor paying homage to the dozens of Russian heavy weights over the years who took the dive for the George Foremans, the Joe Fraziers, and the late Muhammad Ali? As the story proceeds, Russia seems incapable of state of the art technical espionage or classic trade craft, that is until the plot calls for it. But hey I’m being too picky. You can’t have it both ways. Or can you?
What you should know:
The rules of engagement include torture. Enhanced interrogation techniques are used. The warning sign reads: Squeamish individuals will enter at their own risk. I find that there are distinct messages in Thor prose. One such message here is that the use of extreme measures are a necessary aspect of winning fights where the alternatives are not palatable. Brad Thor may or may not be right. What he does is force readers to consider the issues. That is one quality I respect in an author.
Having read the first four Leonid McGill Mysteries; All I Did Was Shoot My Man, When the Thrill is Gone, Known to Evil, and The Long Fall, I was excited to see this new entry in print.
If you aren’t familiar with New York City Private Detective McGill or haven’t tried any of Mosley’s 49 works, you are in for a treat. While his genre repertoire tends towards the hard-boiled, there are plenty of diverse offerings for the casual reader.
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