An irreverent, hilarious thriller starring hero Jamie Hawkins, last seen smoking dope in Vietnam in No Bugles, No Drums (1976). Hawkins is now back stateside working as the world's unlikeliest journalist--and finding that life on a Philadelphia newspaper isn't much different from the Asian jungles. Bailed out of a Mexican jail (why?) by rich, attractive newspaper widow Juliet Franklin-Rossini and set to writing feature stories (i.e., obits) for the Call, Hawkins stumbles onto the scene of a Christmas Eve hostage crisis and--after the perpetrator he and sidekick Leon Ferris have turned over to the police is found dead in custody--into the middle of Police Commissioner Rudolph Reichmann's hit list. The heat rises after Hawkins, wandering away from a museum tour, turns up evidence of a massive cache of counterinsurgency weapons underneath the museum and realizes that Reichmann and his high-placed political buddies have created a straw-man terrorist organization as an excuse for their imminent right-wing auto-da-fÉ; but Hawkins still has plenty of time for insistently proprietary Juliet, sweetly literate barmaid Sheila Wolinski, and even princessy rival reporter Alexis Cabot, stoutly defending to each his resistance to commitment. Lots of sexism, gay-bashing, and attitude problems still leave time for a shapely plot and 10,000 funny cracks--even though you may be ashamed of yourself for laughing. Readers who don't Find Hawkins insufferably self-righteous about his caffeine-drugs-tequila life-style will be hooked from the moment he first sees Jesus in the Baltimore railroad yard.