It’s the deadliest poison known to man.He’s the only one who knows its true power.She’s the only one who can stop the evil.The chase is on. . . .Number-one bestselling author Iris Johansen showcases one of her most fascinating characters yet, pitted against one of the most ruthless killers, in a novel that will make you forget to breathe. . . .Catherine Ling was abandoned on the streets of Hong … . . .
Catherine Ling was abandoned on the streets of Hong Kong at age four. Schooled in the art of survival, she traded in the only commodity she had: information. As a teenager, she came under the tutelage of a mysterious man known only as Hu Chang—a skilled assassin and master poisoner. As a young woman, she was recruited by the CIA and now she is known as one of their most effective operatives. Having lived life in the shadows, Catherine is aware of the wobbly moral compass of her existence and even more aware of just how expendable she is to those she deals with. When her old friend Hu Chang creates a formula that’s not only deadly but completely untraceable, the race begins to be the first to get it. With rogue operative John Gallo also on the hunt, Catherine finds herself up against a group so villainous and a man so evil that she may not survive in her quest to protect those she cares about: Hu Chang and Luke—the son who was stolen from Catherine and only recently brought home safe. Using all of her formidable skills, Catherine Ling proves the age-old belief that what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
Iris Johansen is at her page-turning best in this novel that takes you from the corridors of Langley to the alleyways of Hong Kong and the darkest places of the human soul.
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I’m not sure into which genre this book fits, but it most certainly is not a suspense thriller. The instances of action are few, with long gaps between, and what little action does appear is skimmed over briefly, dispersing as a vapor that makes the reader wonder if it was ever really there at all. The author seems to know only a few weaponry buzzwords: Glock, AK-47, and .38. The last weapon is apparently the duty firearm of Catherine Ling’s quasi-partner, John Gallo. There are two issues w/ this detail: first, I don’t know of any operatives in any gov’t agency that use a revolver as a primary duty weapon anymore; and second, Gallo appears to be none-too-proficient with it. A handful of shots fired do not a suspense thriller make.
While the action is infrequent and short-lived, not so with the “drama.” We are immersed in ad nauseam, tedious, mind-numbing detail about Ling’s angst about her relationship with her newly rescued son; her conflicted assessment of Hu Chang’s behavior; and her lust for Gallo. I slogged through the book, hoping for improvement, but all in vain.
The characters elicit no sympathy, enthusiasm, or identification. Ling is completely at the mercy of her emotions: she rants and rages, drifts toward compassion, then had a meltdown again again in a matter of moments. Her impulsive actions endanger her, the mission, and her team members. Speaking from decades of experience with the military and law enforcement, I have fond that the best operatives are the ones who keep a level head and laser focus in the midst of chaos and turmoil. Ling is supposedly an Uber-assassin, the best of the best (having improbably and unbelievably bested a CIA protection detail when she was 14 — really?!). Yet I would never trust her to “cover my six.” She’s a hot mess of arrogance, temper, insecurity, and hormonal distraction. The idea of Ling as even a mediocre operative is patently absurd.
Hu Chang’s arrogance turns him into a caricature. I had to keep myself from rooting for the villains to beat him bloody, if not outright “off” him. His skewed values system and rapidly shifting loyalties make him too flawed and annoying to identify as a hero.
Gallo’s singular focus on bedding Ling makes James Bond look like a champion of female egalitarianism. He and Ling carry on like two over-sexed escapees from a Harlequin romance, but with Ling tearing at her own bodice. The tone is sappy, adolescent, and completely overdone.
Venable is temperamental and profane, and once again completely at the whim of his emotions. I’ve had bosses like him — they were not good. And to think that the deputy director of ops for the CIA would lead a rescue op for the likes of Hu Chang stretched credibility well beyond any possible reconciliation. Absolutely ridiculous.
Then there are the author’s quirks. She frequently uses the phrase, “his/her gaze narrowed on his/her face.” What does that even mean?! And it appears over and over again. She also writes that a character’s lips twisted … into what? A grin? A sneer? A frown? Nope, just twisted. Granted these idiosyncrasy’s are minor issues, especially when compared to the rest of the book. But factored in alongside of all the improbability, the contradiction, the silliness, the absurdity, and the gross lack of action, these irritations stand out all the more.
First, and last, book of this series, and from this author, that I’ll read.