The Eleventh Commandment

In this densely plotted, improbable thriller, a CIA assassin of impeccable integrity has to be eliminated to save his lady boss's hide. Somehow he escapes from all the traps laid for him, but can he ultimately save himself and his family from the power of America's secret govern-ment, as well as the Russian mafia? Maybe--with a little help from his friends, one of whom is "deus ex machina"--without whom the book would be half as long and the hero twice as dead. Martin Jarvis plods through the ever-thickening plot as if he couldn't wait to get out of the studio. But Jarvis's worst is still better than most narrators' best. Aficionados of this type of writing will hardly know the difference. Y.R. (c)AudioFile, Portland, Maine

June 1, 1998
From the first line, former British M.P. Archer (The Fourth Estate, etc.) navigates a nonstop, rocketing ride. Middle-aged Connor Fitzgerald is a happily married man, decorated veteran and devoted father; he's also an "NOC," a "non-official cover officer" for the CIA specializing in assassinations. The killing of a Colombian drug lord leaves Connor out of sync with the Democratic president's policy, so the director of the CIA, a woman, sets Connor up to take the fall in a fake assassination of the leading candidate for the Russian presidency, an unreconstructed Stalinist. Connor (aided by an ex-CIA deputy director whose life he once saved) gets out of a St. Petersburg jail and falls into the hands of the Russian Mafia. Wheels spin within wheels until the slam-bang climax during the new Russian president's visit to Washington. Some plot details, including the final twist, are a tad hokey, and Connor keeps his much-touted charisma under wraps, yet Archer sweeps us along (and even finds time to write himself into the plot as London's mayor, a position he's seeking in real life). The only boo-boo here is Archer's unwitting revivification of flamboyant Redskins owner and Northern Virginia tycoon Jack Kent Cooke (though he was a character). In any case, readers won't mind the occasional giddiness: this isn't Tolstoy, it's fun. Simultaneous Harper audio.