...window and walked to the bar. Time to crack open the Sauza Tres Generaciones, Tequila Anejo-Mexico's well-aged contribution to the well-being of all humankind. Hard enough to come by anywhere, it was virtually unobtainable here in London, but his search had succeeded. He lifted it out of its tan box, admiring the coal black bottle, then gave the cork a twist and sniffed the fragrance, fresh as nectar, before settling it back on the bar. Next he removed a bottle of rare Stolichnaya Starka vodka from the freezer and stationed it beside the Sauza. This, he knew, was Eva's favorite, made with water from the Niva River and flavored with pear leaves and Crimean apples as well as a touch of brandy and a dash of port. A few moments later he heard a light knock on the door, and with a feeling of relief he stepped over. "Michael," the voice was a muted whisper, "hurry." He swung it inward and there she was. Without a word she moved into his arms. "Are you okay?" He touched her face, then lifted her lips to his. They were cold, tight. "Yes. I . . . I think so. God, what a day. I kept wanting to call you, darling." "I was out." "I assumed that. I can't wait to show you my translation." "Hey, slow down." He kissed her again. "Let's have a celebration drink first. Just you and me." "Michael, don't talk nonsense. We've got to think." "I got a bottle of your native wine, a little Tequila Anejo for me. Never hurt the mental processes. Come on, what do you say?" He turned and headed for the bar. She was unzipping the vinyl flight bag. "How can you . . .?" Then she caught herself and laughed. "It better be frozen, Like ice-cold syrup." "Cold as Siberia. It should go down well with the latest news item. We've now got a deal on the table with Tokyo." "What kind of deal?" She glanced over. "I told them if they'll call off the...
Thomas Hoover has a doctorate in oceanography and served as senior vice president of an architect-engineering firm in New York, where he has lived for several decades. His vices include being an avid sailor and a recognized collector of the classical music of India. He began his writing career with two classic non-fiction books on Far Eastern art and religion and then moved into fiction writing with two critically acclaimed novels about English sailors in the early Seventeenth century.
Technothriller from the end of the cold war. Probably a bit too techno for my liking - too much detail about fuel systems and radar evasion systems which I can't get very excited by. But the plot was good with a neat ending.
Not sure if it's me or the book but every time I try to read it I get really sleepy. Although the last third of it seems to be getting better or I'm at least not as sleepy when reading it.
What happens when the new Soviet government that has the engineers to develop a hypersonic airplane secretly gets in bed with the Japanese mafia who have the technology to create said airplane? Something that members of the CIA, NSA, and KGB are very determined to figure out and put a stop to. Add into the mix a rogue Russian test pilot, a freelance money launderer, and several double deals and you have one heck of an intriguing plot.
While the storyline is riveting, I must admit that it was very hard for me to read. The technology of Mach speeds, hypersonic, scramjets, and an assortment of military planes was admittedly way over my head and I had a hard time making much sense of these segments. There is also the fact that there are characters of many different countries that speak in their native tongue. This lends a nice atmosphere of reality to the characters but as not many general readers speak Russian, Greek, or Japanese a bit of translation would have been nice. I couldn't help but feel that I was missing out on quite a bit of the dialogue. Then again, who knows, maybe it was just the foreign version of "Hey, how's the family?" and wasn't really pertinent to the plot after all, but I kind of doubt it.
All in all, this was an excellent hard to put down page turner that I would be willing to read again. I get the feeling there are many layers to the plot that would benefit from a second or even third read.
This is the second novel by Thomas Hoover that I have read. I thought that Syndrome was great and while this is not perhaps great in is a good solid and very entertaining read for which I was able to easily suspend belief and just enjoy.
The plot moves at a reasonably fast pace around the world but not so fast that the reader might lose track of events; the bad guys are bad and the good guys are good, and I would liken it to a literary version of one of the better 007 movies e.g. Thunderball or The Spy Who Loved me.
I thought the end was a little weak after such a strong chase but then again, I'm not sure just how I would have ended it differently without resorting to killing everyone off...
Recommended for a wet weekend or a long flight, and I am looking forward to my next foray into a Thomas Hoover novel...