Murder, kidnapping, and employment with an "off-the-books" group that handles domestic terrorism sounds like an interesting career choice, right?
But suppose you want nothing to do with it?
Perennial party animal and long-overdue college graduate Flint Stryker discovers that a career choice may cost his life as well as that of someone he loves.
It all happens in one bizarre, mind-bending day. A day filled with opportunities, dangerous deceptions, secrets revealed, a painful choice, and an unexpected outcome, that puts Flint Stryker on a collision path with danger, death, and ultimately - retribution.
Since when did choosing a career become a life or death decision?
Murder, kidnapping, and employment with an "off-the-books" group that handles domestic terrorism sounds like an interesting career choice, right?
But suppose you want nothing to do with it?
Perennial party animal and long-overdue college graduate Flint Stryker discovers that a career choice may cost his life as well as that of someone he loves.
It all happens in one bizarre, mind-bending day. A day filled with opportunities, dangerous deceptions, secrets revealed, a painful choice, and an unexpected outcome, that puts Flint Stryker on a collision path with danger, death, and ultimately - retribution.
Since when did choosing a career become a life or death decision?
Garrett Riggs gasped uncontrollably for breath. His bodyâs reaction to near-drowning was overwhelming panic. Coughing and retching, he expelled more water than his lungs were meant to accommodate. So, this was what waterboarding was really like â it was more terrifying than he could ever have imagined.
Spluttering, he begged, âPlease⌠no more,â before spasming into another helpless coughing fit.
His tormentor only snatched him again by his hair, yanking his ashen face towards him to meet his stare. âPerhaps you can end all of this, Mr. Riggs, by telling me and Mr. Sebastian here about the conversation you overheard when you were so ungraciously snooping on us earlier. Hmmm?â
His hands duct-taped behind him, tied to a chair, Riggs could do nothing but gape at Professor Alastor Huxley and his graduate assistant, Estebe Sebastian. Rivulets of water streaming down his face, his hair plastered to his forehead, Riggs blubbered, âIâve told you over and over, Professor, I only overheard you and Estebe in the hallway that evening as I was leaving the language lab. I had fallen asleep after cramming for my finals and was headed back to my apartment.â He swallowed hard, his teeth chattering as he continued, not meeting their eyes. âThe two of you were in your office whispering, and well, naturally I was curious⌠so I stopped and listened. I shouldnât have done it, I know, but I overheard some stuff that caught my attention. I swear I have no idea what you were talking about!â
Sobbing, Riggs hiccupped and coughed again sending a spray of water and snot onto Huxleyâs jacket. The Professor rolled his eyes and dabbed at his jacket with the rag he was holding â smearing the sputum in an attempt to wipe it away.
Huxley smiled to himself. It was always the same, wasnât it? Whenever the cold reality of imminent death presented itself, those threatened always went to extraordinary lengths to attempt to save themselves. He could see Riggsâ swollen, bloodshot eyes, and knew that it wouldnât be long before that last glimmer of hope was dashed. The acceptance of impending death would overrule and that hope would extinguish itself as surely as a quick puff extinguishes a candle.
Sighing deeply, Huxley looked sympathetically into Riggsâ pallid face. âMr. Riggs, Iâm quite sure you meant no harm, I truly am. But you see, Mr. Sebastian and I were discussing some very sensitive matters. We mentioned the names of several persons no one else was meant to hear.â
Riggs shuddered, his breath catching and tears streaming down his face.
âThat is why my office door was closed, Mr. Riggs. We were having a private conversation. A very private conversationâŚâ He tutted and shook his head. âSadly, you happened by at a most inopportune time â for you, unfortunately.â
Huxley saw it then. Riggsâ pale green eyes went dull as if someone had thrown a switch. That was it â the hope was gone, replaced by the finality of his situation. He rose and went to the cabinet by his desk, removing a bottle of bourbon, unscrewing the top as he spoke.
âI think it would be appropriate for you and me to have a few drinks together.â He paused, grinning at Riggs. âWell, actually, Mr. Riggs, you will be the only one drinking, and Iâm sorry to say youâre going to be drinking quite a lot â too much actually. Then it will be a good time for you to do a little late-night swimming. I hope you wonât have had so much to drink that you might⌠drown.â
Sebastian grabbed Riggs by the face before he could react and forced his mouth open as Professor Huxley began pouring the alcohol into his mouth. Gagging, Riggs swallowed and coughed up some of the bourbon as it burned his throat. âPlease, I-IâŚâ
âShush, Mr. Riggs,â Huxley purred. âIt will do you no good to fight this. As you know, Mr. Sebastian is an All-Conference wrestling champion, and I feel sure heâll be able to âencourageâ your participation in our little drinking game. So, letâs enjoy it, shall we? Fortunately, as a bourbon aficionado, I have a well-stocked liquor cabinet, and the night is young, so â as they sayâŚÂ âSaludââ
His eyes wide with fear, staring into the grim face of the graduate assistant, Riggs began what he knew would be his first and last night of college binge drinking.
Given the intriguing core premise âWith the right motivation, even Jo Average, champion of the shallow and mediocre, can become an international man of mystery', I found the book surprisingly disappointing and a real chore to read. Though it is thankfully quite short, every aspect of this book vies to outdo the central character himself in terms of under achievement. It really is quite a shame, but the things I most struggled with were:
Â
1. Prose - Riddled with typographic and grammatical errors, the phrasing was clunky with neither variety nor flow. I found myself continuously tripping up and having to re-read sentences that didn't parse clearly at first go.
2. Characteristation - Though the idea of turning a party-boy dropout into the next 007 is certainly intriguing and refreshing, every single other character in the book comes straight out of a 'Build your own spy novel, ages 12 to 18' construction set: a mild mannered mentor turned recruiter; a haughty and distant director; a sensual female super assassin; an overly muscular thug; a sweet but ultimately doomed love interest; an impassioned foreign super villain. Other than the fact that the protagonist spends much of his time emptying his guts into the shrubbery, there really is no innovation.
3. Convenience - Many things happen because the plot needs it that way, not because it makes sense. For instance, other than the core cast of cardboard cut outs, the University Campus where most of the action takes place appears to be deserted. No background bustle, no onlookers, no witnesses, no interaction of any kind with anyone, just tumble weed.
4. Agency - Though it is a brave attempt at portraying a protagonist of this kind, there is no avoiding the elephant in the room. Lacking goals or ambition, the main character can only re-act to the impetus of others. Nothing he does is because he wants to do it. Like a human pinball, he passively clatters punch drunk from one crisis to the next as other people take action around him.
5. Risk - Put simply, there is none. Thanks to the protagonist's mysteriously acquired quasi-magical precognition, his worst case scenario is to live alone in a trailer park. It's hardly earth shattering. Externally, the greatest risk appears to be that the questionably competent goodies might actually succeed in interfering with the plans of the utterly incompetent baddies. Quite honestly, the baddies appear to be so bad at being baddies that world peace would assuredly be best served by simply leaving them alone to discharge their own firearms into their own toecaps at regular intervals.
Â
Whilst respecting the effort and determination that independent authors put into creating and publishing unique and ground-breaking works, I shan't be reading any more books about Flint Stryker until they have received a high quality professional edit.