The Echelon Vendetta by David Stone, read by Firdous Bamji, gives the term “spook” a new spin.Micah Dalton is a “cleaner,” one of those useful CIA guys who drops into a situation and tidies up the mess. Messes are usually caused by trigger or knife-happy enemies, though, not ticked-off shamans. And usually, the cleaner liases with living people, you know, walking-around, everyone-can-see-them, living people.
So in pretty short order, we realize this title may sound like Jason Bourne will be hopping into a fast car or swinging on a rope, but this is a spy book with a difference. Supposedly “David Stone,” the author, knows his way around the alphabet agencies. But he also seems to know his hallucinogens and other interesting things.
Micah starts out in Europe, investigating his best friend in the agency’s murder, suicide, whatever—the man has clawed his own face off. Don’t you hate it when someone talks you into that?
Then he sees a pattern among some other deaths and starts hacking around in the mountains of the far West, trying to fit the puzzle pieces, while more gruesome deaths occur.
All the while, his friend from Venice, Porter, pops in every so often to lend advice, even though his face is clawed off.
When I last heard Firdous Bamji, he had an Indian accent. Now he is handily voicing a number of American dialects. He is quite the talker.
Will there be more Micah Dalton stories? When last seen, he had dropped off the grid at the end of this book. But you know grids—people, living or the opposite, can pop back on them. Apparently, there are three of these already.
Star Lawrence owns a recession-coping site called Do the Hopey Copey at http://hopeycopey.blogspot.com. She can be reached at jkellaw@aol.com.
So in pretty short order, we realize this title may sound like Jason Bourne will be hopping into a fast car or swinging on a rope, but this is a spy book with a difference. Supposedly “David Stone,” the author, knows his way around the alphabet agencies. But he also seems to know his hallucinogens and other interesting things.
Micah starts out in Europe, investigating his best friend in the agency’s murder, suicide, whatever—the man has clawed his own face off. Don’t you hate it when someone talks you into that?
Then he sees a pattern among some other deaths and starts hacking around in the mountains of the far West, trying to fit the puzzle pieces, while more gruesome deaths occur.
All the while, his friend from Venice, Porter, pops in every so often to lend advice, even though his face is clawed off.
When I last heard Firdous Bamji, he had an Indian accent. Now he is handily voicing a number of American dialects. He is quite the talker.
Will there be more Micah Dalton stories? When last seen, he had dropped off the grid at the end of this book. But you know grids—people, living or the opposite, can pop back on them. Apparently, there are three of these already.
Star Lawrence owns a recession-coping site called Do the Hopey Copey at http://hopeycopey.blogspot.com. She can be reached at jkellaw@aol.com.
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