So, as I raced towards the end of this spectacularly good Andy McNab thriller yesterday, I had tears in my eyes. Just shuddup, okay?
The way Andy McNab writes, you always know; he's been in this place, on that job, used the weapon he's describing so lovingly, watched a man die. In his early books, something or another would lag behind the action, or the tradecraft. But here, he gets everything right; the plot, the location, the dialogue, the action, the characters, the emotional center. Dead Centre takes place in Somalia, which I absolutely believe, without a doubt, that he has been to. His descriptions of the people, the bereft landscape and the pure and deadly anarchy are nothing less than astonishing.
I do miss the urgency of the early books; they weren't always as literary as this one, but they had an I-just-got-out-of-Special-Forces-and-I-sat-down-and-wrote-this-book immediacy to them that this one trades in for better, smoother writing. But that's a personal thing.
I continue to be blown away by how well he writes about horrors the rest of us ignore, in places in the world we will never visit, fearlessly exploring the kind of front-page newspaper stories that have us turning the page so that we don't see anything that disturbs us as we drink our morning coffee.
If you are curious about Andy McNab, Dead Centre is a good place to start.