A volcanic eruption is quite another, for, as the journalist who does a framing voice-over narration for Brooks’ latest puts it, when Mount Rainier popped its cork, “it was the psychological aspect, the hyperbole-fueled hysteria that had ended up killing the most people.” Maybe, but the sasquatches whom the volcano displaced contributed to the statistics, too, if only out of self-defense. But without characters to invest in, readers may be left with what amounts to an album of travel photos: exotic and colorful but with nothing to harness the heart.Īre we not men? We are-well, ask Bigfoot, as Brooks does in this delightful yarn, following on his bestseller World War Z (2006).Ī zombie apocalypse is one thing. Black packs lots of action and rich local color into her tale of danger. If no one can be trusted, readers have no one to root for.

As characters flash by-Dieter von Holz, the RAF pilot who ferries Kate to Paris German double agent Jaro Polish freedom fighter Odile her liaison in Paris, Richards, who escorts her to British HQ in Cairo her Cairo guide, Sasha and shrewd belly dancer Nadira-Kate doesn’t really connect with anyone. But that warning places serious constraints on Black’s mission as a storyteller. Rommel’s right-hand man, Stepney reminds her to trust no one. Before sending her back to Paris with the task of taking out Kurt Lange, Gen. The skills with a rifle she developed growing up in rural Oregon paired with the ease of disguising her as a housewife or nurse make her a favorite sniper of the War Department’s Alfred Stepney. “A terrible accident in front of her apartment.Sharpshooter Kate Rees returns to the City of Lights for a longer but no less harrowing mission than she had in Three Hours in Paris (2020).Īfter losing her husband and daughter in a German airstrike, Kate wants nothing more than to avenge her family’s death on every Nazi within range.

“But what’s so important?” She had to make this credible. Please.” The man set down his folder, which was labeled école polytechnique. “I hate to trouble you, monsieur, but it’s important I speak with Antoine. Rafael, an actual Spanish engineering student Kate had known in ’37, had become the assistant to his advisor, Professor Neliad, a short squat perfectionist Raphael had mimicked incessantly. This comes from Rafael Santos, Professor Neliad’s assistant at the Polytechnic,” she said, ready to launch into the story she’d fabricated on the long ride. I’ve never met him, monsieur.” She gave a big sigh. “My brain’s already turned to mush.” “Sit down.” Concerned now, he guided her to a small spindle-back chair in the landing’s corner. “mercy and with this heat, you know-and my anemia.” She sighed.

Three Hours in Paris by Cara Black