ROCK, PAPER, SCISSORS

A dismal debut thriller in which few, alas, have much use for the US government, especially those employed by it.

Consider Secretary of State Jack Montgomery. Talk democracy to him, and his eyes glaze. What, Jack trust the duly elected representatives of the people with anything that matters? It is to laugh. Total self-reliance, that's Jack's tactic—no other choice for a true patriot surrounded by bumblers. So that when he comes upon maverick munitions tycoon Sam Baldwin planning to assassinate Saddam Hussein, he moves instantly to parry. How? Why, by ordering a brace of his best thugs to kidnap Jessica, Baldwin's daughter. Either Baldwin ceases and desists, or he never again sees Jessica alive. Not that Jack has any love for Saddam, no way. It's just that with Saddam history, the balance of power would be disrupted, to say nothing of oil flow. Now enter beautiful, brainy Sarah Peterson, who never saw the evil plot she couldn't foil. Over Jack's objections, she's been named head of his personal security. He knew instinctively the feisty Secret Service agent meant trouble, but as usual the president, that idiot, wouldn't listen to him. Well, Jack had it right, of course. In a trice, Sarah sniffs out much of what diabolical Jack's been up to, including his role in the murder of her father. "Eliminate Sarah Peterson": the word goes out to a succession of Jack's most reliable mercenaries, all of whom fail miserably. Slippery Sarah hooks up with sudden Sam and his mercenaries, and in the nick of time they find Jessica and foil Jack, who then meets a not-unexpected end.

High-tech gadgetry, low-grade storytelling: search in vain here for a hint of nuance.