High expectations, low craft

Roopinder Singh

The names of the two authors in golden letters attract the eye, even as the name of the book, in white text, comes at the bottom. The arrangement is suggestive; the jugalbandi between the two masters of the spin — the brilliant but controversial two-term President of the United States of America, and the man who holds the Guinness World Record for the most No 1 New York Times bestsellers — is more than enough to ring in sales in record numbers as readers all over the world pick up this fictional thriller.  

The chapters are short, the book is long. The story revolves around a cyber-terror attack against the US and how President Jonathan Lincoln Duncan, the principal narrator, must step out of the protective womb of the White House and venture away from his Secret Service detail to enter the murky world of computer hackers and code breakers, along with a plethora of gunmen, as well as an assassin, whose target is not the President.

We follow Duncan, who must face this threat alone since he suspects a member of his inner circle to be the traitor. He is battling Suliman Cindoruk, a cyber-terrorist who was born in Turkey. He is the leader of Sons of Jihad, and neither he nor his organisation is Islamic, they are simply mercenaries with a tremendous angst against the US.

The virus they have perfected has infected every computer in the US, including the most sensitive ones, and if triggered, it would result in all the data being wiped out from everything, paralysing the computer-dependent super power, and turning it into “the largest third world country in the world.” The race to save the US goes through the usual suspects, with Germany and Israel in the supporting role and a break-away Saudi faction and Russians in the villainous list. Throw in a traitor in the inner circle and you have a gripping cast.

Gripping yes, but not quite well rounded. The uni-dimensionality of characters is not unknown to Patterson readers, but here it is bit jarring because of the high hopes that are built up by the marketing hype. The president is a Boy Scout version of the real one, a veteran who never broke when taken prisoner, a true and honest politician … you get the picture. The villain has no redeeming feature … just like the cover, there is too much black and white with little relief.

The young coders who turn away from their patron after realising the enormity of destruction of their creation, are credible, there are flashes of naivety in their characterisation. The pregnant assassin and the turncoat also provide the necessary distractions.

President Clinton’s contribution is not quite clear. The blurb promises a book “with details only a President could know and suspense only James Patterson can deliver.” The fictional President’s monologues may have Clintonian resonance, but they are far from captivating, often deteriorating to a rant. On the other hand, the suspense follows a formula familiar to readers who have read a Patterson or two, or three.

Yet when you start the book, you find it gripping. Only after you have turned the last page, do you wonder about what to say about a book that is neither a well-crafted novel, nor a taut thriller, yet still a page turner, a jugalbandi that was an exciting performance, yet one that failed meet expectations.