I continue to enjoy how Remi and Sam Fargo work together through every challenge in their amazing world of world travel, scientific and historic discovery, intrigue, and mayhem. This time Texas oil tycoon Charlie King engages their interest in searching for Sam's friend, Frank Alton, who's gone missing while tracing King's long-vanished archaeologist father in Nepal. As convoluted as that sounds, the plot is, of course, even more mysterious and suspenseful. Along the way, I learned some about Nepali history, folklore, and linguistics; contemporary Chinese-Nepali relations; the existence of black market fossil trade; the Eastern Orthodox Church and its missionary work; and the early history of aeronautics. Oh, also that the word Mustang, when used in reference to the district in western Nepal, is pronounced moos-TAHNG.
While convoluted, the plot and characters aren't deep. They're like a contemporary Indiana Jones story, if Mr. Jones was more of an engineer, had once worked for a secretive government entity, had a beautiful, perfectly-complementary wife with whom he always worked and traveled. These quasi-Joneses--the Fargos--would be independently-wealthy and generous, good-natured (Jones is more surly), and tech-savvy. I classify the series as fantasy, not because there are specifically magical entities or powers at work, but because the married protagonists never disagree, seem to do want to do anything separate from one another, always come out okay in the end despite often overwhelming odds, have unlimited finances and staff to handle mundanities as well as laborious research elements. The authors downplay the time-consuming, tedious, and strenuous elements of archaeological, anthropological, and paleontological research and incorporate more explosive situations than a field worker in any of those discipline would typically expect, I think. That said, I enjoy the couple's repartee; the solving of puzzles; the survey of places, people, history, and cultures; and the appreciation professional researchers get in this series. I wish that there was a "separating history from fiction" section at the end of the books, though, as Steve Berry puts at the end of his "Cotton Malone" stories.
The following are passages I enjoyed. While some do indicate treacherous situations, these are so common to the series that I don't think they're spoilers. If you don't want to risk any foreknowledge, stop reading this review now.
Ch. 7, Chobar Gorge, Nepal
At the bottom, they found themselves facing not a trail but a rickety suspension bridge, its left side affixed to the cliff by lag bolts. Vines had overrun the bridge, so tightly twisted around the supports and wires that the structure looked half man-made, half organic.
"I have the distinct feeling that we're looking down the rabbit hole," Remi murmured.
"Come on," Sam said. "It's quaint."
"With you, I've come to equate that word with 'hazardous.'"
"I'm crushed."
"Can you see how far it goes?"
"No. Keep ahold of the cliff side. If the span goes, the vines will probably hold."
"Another lovely word, 'probably.'"
Below the words was a crudely painted skull and crossbones. Remi smiled. "Look, Sam, it's the universal symbol for 'quaint.'"
"Funny lady," he replied. "Ready to spelunk?"
"Have I ever said no to that question?"
"Never, bless your heart."
Ch. 12
"Lesson learned," Sam said. "No crosswalks in Nepal."
"And goats have the right-of-way," Remi added.
Ch. 13
Sam: "We're going to need more than pictures, though. How do you feel about a bit of skullduggery?"
Remi: "I'm a big fan of skullduggery."
Sam lowered the binoculars and looked sideways at Remi. "You're not going to believe this. It's Crouching Tiger, Scary Lady herself," he said...
Ch. 14
He [Sam] unslung the rifle and examined it. "This is sate-of-the-art."
[Remi] "Can you handle it?"
"Safety, trigger, magazine . . . hole where the bullet comes out. I think I'll manage."
end of Ch. 16: Moonlight Guest House, Jomsom, Dhawalagiri, Nepal:
Sam shut the door. From the bathroom he heard Remi say, "Sam, look at this."
He found a wide-eyed Remi standing beside a gigantic copper claw-foot tub. "It's a Beasley."
"I think the more common term is 'bathtub,' Remi."
"Very funny. Beasley are rare, Sam. The last one was made in the late nineteenth century. ...[worth ~$12K] This is a treasure, Sam."
"And it's the size of a Studebaker. Don't even think of trying to fit it into your carry-on."