Read this one out of order as I had a yen for the Caribbean. Unfortunately, it's not much of a travelogue, aside from some facts about Haiti no doubt gleamed from the encyclopedia.
Surprisingly, there's a good amount of continuity here. This one apparently picks up right where the last book (about Las Vegas) left off. It's not exactly Trotsky, so it's easy to follow along anyway. Mack Bolan is in a hijacked plane full of money, about to be ambushed, but manages to slip the net and then turn the tables on the small army of pursuers the Mob has after him. Despite the evocative detail that this is more or less the same surroundings as the Vietnam War, where he cut his teeth, we don't get much jungle warfare. Bolan soon loses all pursuit and hooks up with a hot-to-trot Latina cop and an unfathomably loyal contact, who apparently is a fanboy of his, because I can't come up with another reason this guy has to be so helpful to someone he just met.
Laziness aside, we get some deep thoughts and PG-rated lovemaking (lots of Harlequin-esque prose--"The war faded, hell wavered, and even damnation lost its sting as Bolan and the law traded points of reality, and merged them, and expanded them into that all-consuming flame which is known only to those who live largely, love largely, and fully expect to die in the same manner." Seriously.) Bolan is surprisingly hippieish in his spiritual navel-gazing, but I suppose that makes sense for a Vietnam vet. They couldn't have all skipped to Canada, after all.
With the book 3/4 done, Bolan manages to take out every established villain, but Don hasn't hit his word count, so we're suddenly introduced to another crime boss in the area that Bolan quickly adds to the kill count. I suppose I should appreciate that instead of padding things out, Pendleton basically throws in an extra short story to make this thing novel-length, then wraps things up with the assurance that next week will bring more adventure. Wait, has each book basically been a week in the life of Mack Bolan, in real time? Because how avant-garde would that be for pulp fiction.