A CIA agent murdered in Cuba, several more in China, and it soon appears covert American agents are being unmasked and assassinated at an alarming rate. While the FBI investigates, Special Agent Richard O’Brien is busy chasing women again, this time an attractive sommelier. He dives deeper into the wine industry when the U.S. Coast Guard confiscates a crate of rare wines on suspicion of a criminal act, not realizing his love interest is involved.
What is this wine really worth?
Are the bottles supporting a money laundering operation?
What if the bottles aren't really full of wine, but something else?
Nobody in the Agency makes the connection between the assassination of agents and the sale of rare wines. But a stand-up Japanese comic with ties to the yakuza understands, and while orchestrating the ongoing scheme he finds himself going up against a very determined Richard O’Brien. Join O’Brien as he seeks to unravel a sinister and imminent threat to the security of agents we count on to keep us safe.
A CIA agent murdered in Cuba, several more in China, and it soon appears covert American agents are being unmasked and assassinated at an alarming rate. While the FBI investigates, Special Agent Richard O’Brien is busy chasing women again, this time an attractive sommelier. He dives deeper into the wine industry when the U.S. Coast Guard confiscates a crate of rare wines on suspicion of a criminal act, not realizing his love interest is involved.
What is this wine really worth?
Are the bottles supporting a money laundering operation?
What if the bottles aren't really full of wine, but something else?
Nobody in the Agency makes the connection between the assassination of agents and the sale of rare wines. But a stand-up Japanese comic with ties to the yakuza understands, and while orchestrating the ongoing scheme he finds himself going up against a very determined Richard O’Brien. Join O’Brien as he seeks to unravel a sinister and imminent threat to the security of agents we count on to keep us safe.
"Cherish those who seek the truth, but beware of those who find it." - Voltaire
Gregory Zukov was already dead. He just didn’t realize it.
“Am I enjoying myself? Seriously?”
He snapped back at the waiter who initiated the conversation as he approached the table, the young man who could not have been more than seventeen years old.
“Am I enjoying myself?” Gregory repeated, a bit louder this time, as if any more drama were necessary in the moment.
He then unpacked his grievances. “The guest elevator doesn’t work, I have cockroaches in my bathroom, the internet is down most of the time, and my toilet doesn’t flush properly,” he said, raising his left nostril just enough to signal his disgust.
The young man straightened his back and shifted his weight onto his back heels as he took in the criticism of the hotel, then said something that put it all in perspective for Gregory.
“Señor, your first time in Cuba?” he asked.
Any other covert agent would probably have been delighted to be assigned to Cuba, but Gregory, now in his fourteenth year of service to the agency, wasn’t convinced he was trading up from his prior assignment in Shanghai. There was no caviar nor Coca-Cola, for starters, and much of Havana looked like a war zone. At the Hotel Nacional de Cuba, he could at least momentarily forget these shortcomings—until he was asked about the condition of the hotel, which, prior to the revolution, accommodated dignitaries from Winston Churchill to Walt Disney. It was well past its prime by the time Gregory signed the guest register.
Indeed, quality is relative, he thought to himself, and the waiter who asked him if he had ever visited Cuba recognized this fact before Gregory did.
He looked to his left, across the Calle Malecón, to the American Embassy. As an operative, he would not be able to visit the Embassy, but he took some comfort in knowing it was there. Instead, he cradled his whiskey on the back porch of the hotel, watching the palm trees sway in the wind.
In the distance, ocean waves crashed against the breakwater that ran around the perimeter of the island, spraying seawater as high as eight feet. The warm breeze was intense, as evidenced by the number of cocktail napkins that leapt from the tables of other guests. Occasionally, the sky blinked in bright blue-white hues as a result of a lightning storm sitting off the west coast of Florida.
A series of lamps shone down on the grounds from the roof of the hotel, revealing the coordinated ballet of runaway paper products. It was about 10:30 p.m., and guests who had just finished dining were walking about.
A musical trio entertained small groups lounging on the outdoor wicker furniture, whether they liked it or not, playing a few Latin tunes before collecting gratuities and moving on to the next victims. Gregory stared at them as he inventoried his fortunes—or misfortunes, depending on his point of view at the time. He was staring down at his drink when the waiter stopped by his side, giving rise to his ill-advised eruption. Above all else, agents were trained to never bring attention to themselves.
Gregory Zukov was brought to the United States by his parents when he was seven years old. Russian was the predominant language spoken at home, and his ability to speak it, combined with a degree in political science from the University of Michigan, is what originally generated the CIA’s interest in him. During previous assignments in New York, Moscow, and Shanghai, Gregory felt he was in the center of the party universe, participating in a range of activities from official ceremonies to wild, erotic raves that ran into the morning hours. Now he was as isolated as he could be on an island nation that time forgot.
“You’ve earned this, Gregory,” his supervisor and handler told him when he was summoned back to the U.S. from Shanghai for a new appointment. “Lean into it,” he said.
Gregory’s assignment was to mix with the significant Russian tourist population and to investigate the origin of “Havana Syndrome.” The condition had affected two dozen American and Canadian diplomats on the island by the time of his arrival, but reports of symptoms similar to Havana Syndrome outside Cuba had ballooned to 1,500. When the news program 60 Minutes reported in 2024 on its five-year investigation into the issue, the agency was under intense pressure to step up resources.
He was also expected to gather intelligence on the Chinese and Russian convoy of ships arriving for the purpose of conducting “joint military exercises” in the Caribbean. Russia began deploying warships and nuclear submarines to Cuba in 2024, purportedly in response to the U.S. permitting Ukraine to use weapons they supplied to hit targets within Russia’s sovereign territory. Cubans were permitted to tour the Russian frigate Gorshkov for a few hours on one random day during the week. Military analysts believed the Gorshkov was capable of anti-submarine warfare and carrying surface-to-surface and surface-to-air missiles. Gregory was to use his forged credentials to verify as many details as possible.
The high level of humidity outside the hotel wrapped Gregory in a warm, virtual blanket. That, combined with the effect of several drinks, made him numb to the prick on the shoulder as an apparently drunk guest stumbled into him when he rose from his table. He took no special interest either when the guest whispered “ma-af,” the Indonesian equivalent of “excuse me.”
As Gregory reached the elevators, he was reminded that they weren’t functional and that he would have to take the stairs back to his room. When he finally entered his room on the fourth floor, he dropped face down on the bed, fully clothed. The following morning, he was discovered there by the housekeeping staff, in the same outfit. He had died from an apparent cardiac arrest, and not so apparent blood poisoning.
The Wine Broker is the third book in author Ian Rodney Lazarus’s exciting Richard O’Brien series, but readers new to the scene will have no problem jumping in here and experiencing a riveting story. FBI Special Agent Richard O’Brien, assigned to the Los Angeles office, is on a special task force examining the sudden rise in the assassinations of their undercover agents and CIA covert operators. But as he delves deeper into their inquiries, his intuition leads him to suspect the contract killings of the agents may be connected to another case, involving money laundering and a new-to-the-U.S. winery that is fermenting their bottled products under the waters of the Pacific Ocean. He signs up for a wine-tasting course to casually increase his knowledge of wine and is immediately attracted to the instructor, Asha Chandra, a beautiful master sommelier from one of LA’s local restaurants. But as he gets to know her, he also shares details about his latest case as he picks her brain for information, which may have unforeseeable consequences for both his career and his continued safety.
Richard is such a regular guy, looking to advance in his career on his merits and hoping to find someone new to share his life with after experiencing a heart-wrenching breakup with the woman he thought was “the one.” He’s diligent and dedicated, but he sometimes acts before thinking, which gets him into trouble on the job. He has a fun, free-spirited coworker in Jeff McAuley, who is an unusual mix of FBI agent and surfer dude, and I also liked that Richard’s former love interest arrives on the scene to join the same task force at just the right moment. Sarah Goodman has been through some life experiences that have changed her somewhat, and I rooted for her and Richard to reconcile their past relationship the entire time.
The story unfolds from multiple, well-defined points of view, so a couple of different storylines are in play at all times. It was delightful watching the unique pieces of the plot gradually come together as the story resolved, and I was completely surprised when a final twist was revealed. As a bonus, the action unfolds globally across very exotic and unusual settings, and the vivid descriptions will have readers feel as if they are there alongside the characters. I also enjoyed the author’s incorporation of the U.S. Coast Guard into the plot; there are just so few stories that feature their service (compared to the other branches of the military). However, while I enjoyed the story, the book had some issues with unnecessary repetition and errors, such as character name changes, that I’m hoping were cleaned up before final publication. And while the narrative does reference bits and pieces from the previous Richard O’Brien books, these mentions will not spoil earlier books for new readers but will most likely tempt them to seek them out.
I recommend THE WINE BROKER to readers of mysteries, thrillers, and suspense, especially those who enjoy a police procedural style of presentation.