Isis thwarted
Until the 20th century, jihadists had no bones to pick with the US. Their ire was directed at the UK and France who coveted their lands, and the Jews trying to carve out their own. They got good press when T.E. Lawrence led the Arabs against the enemy Ottoman Turks. The silent film The Sheik romanticised them. The Riffs were favoured in their uprising against Spain. They didn’t participate in the North African campaign in World War II.
Animosity arose with the American support of the State of Israel and of the Shah of Iran. Planes were hijacked. People were kidnapped to destroy the Twin Towers in the Big Apple. Al-Qaeda, the Taliban, Isis were in an undeclared war against Uncle Sam, who invaded Afghanistan and Iraq.
Isis was regarded as the worst. Among their massacres, journalists who printed cartoons of the Prophet. The Chief Executive in DC ordered open season on them, killing many. But not all. Which is where Lethal Agent picks up.
The thriller is apparently by Vince Flynn, but he has gone to the great beyond. His estate has found an author who has mastered his style and mindset. Kyle Mills, a fellow Yank. While not as prolific, his replacement is slowly catching up. I’m unaware of any complaints by readers. To avoid confusion, I am using he or him when referring to the writer.
As may be expected, he has an ongoing literary hero. Mitch Rapp is CIA. Irene Kennedy his sidekick. Their quarry is Isis head Sayid Halabi, who survives a US raid decimating his followers. He plans diabolical vengeance. It starts with abducting a microbiologist. The anthrax the prisoner is forced to make is bad enough, but the viral epidemic which will befall much of the Great Satan will kill virtually all the inhabitants. We are asked to believe that it’s up to Mitch and Irene, assisted by the FBI, to thwart Sayid.
Fans familiar with Flynn’s MO expect and get twists and turns and plenty of action. America is saved this time. And probably next time and the time after as long as Mitch Rapp is on the job. The baddies out there never stop trying.
The praise by critics on the back cover is effusive. The one that grabs me is: “In the world of black ops thrillers, Mitch Rapp continues to be among the best of the best” (Booklist). I quote it because it means Vince Flynn is in the pantheon of the great “black ops” writers. He’s good to be sure, but no John le Carré. Nor is he on the same level as Lee Child, Clive Cussler or John Grisham. I know that topping a writer with laurels sells more books, but don’t over do it.
No offence intended.