THE FIRST COMMANDMENT

A terrorist mysteriously allowed to leave Guantánamo visits biblical plagues on the friends and relations of a Secret Service agent for whom he carries a mammoth grudge.

Recurring hero Scot Harvath (Takedown, 2007, etc.) broods at the hospital bedside of his girlfriend Tracy, a Naval Explosive Ordinance Disposal technician who took a bullet in the head from an unknown assassin. Harvath wonders what was the significance of the weird radioactive blood smeared on the lintel of his and Tracy’s love nest by the sniper who shot her through the window. Moreover, who could hate somebody as patriotic as Tracy? Could the evil sniper in fact be after Harvath, who has managed to piss off armies of terrorists in the years since the Fourth of July attack on Manhattan? What’s really troublesome is U.S. President Rutledge’s peculiar directive forbidding Harvath to take any action against the nameless monster. Does he really think Harvath is going to take this lying down? When further hideous acts reminiscent of the divine bedevilment of Egypt 3,000 years ago start cropping up among Harvath kith and kin, well, not even the president could expect a fellow not to take action. Does the president take Harvath into his confidence to explain how his government was blackmailed into freeing five super-rotten terrorists from their top security cells in Guantánamo, or why Harvath’s involvement would imperil a mighty nation? He does not. So Harvath has to continent-hop independently in search of the truth, dodging not only the Franco-Semitic fiend who shot poor Tracy, but the very best government agents, who have orders to stop his investigation even if they have to take the Most Extreme Action. It takes all of Harvath’s wits, the help of his powerful mercenary soldier buddies and an alliance with a treacherous dwarf to get to the bottom of things in, of all places, Wisconsin—and all the while poor Tracy’s vital signs are slipping.

Incessant action and artless narration for G. Gordon Liddy fans.