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Executive Times |
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2008 Book Reviews |
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Rules of
Deception by Christopher Reich |
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Rating: |
*** |
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(Recommended) |
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Click
on title or picture to buy from amazon.com |
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Rooked Things
are not as they appear in Christopher Reich’s latest novel, Rules of
Deception. People are not who they say they are. There are complex twists
and shifts throughout this book that will delight most readers. Here’s an
excerpt, from the end of chapter 2, pp. 14-16: One hundred feet away, hidden
behind a checkered barrier, a minor fleet of police vehicles waited for the
signal to move in. Von Daniken glanced to his left. Another barricade
concealed an armored personnel carrier holding ten heavily armed border
guards. He had argued against a show of force, but Marti would have none of
it. The justice minister had waited a long time for this day. "Pilot has requested to
deplane," said the major from the Border Guard. "The tower is
directing him to the customs ramp." Von Daniken and Marti climbed
into an unmarked sedan and drove to the designated parking spot. The others
followed in a second vehicle. The Gulfstream veered off the runway and
approached the customs ramp. Von Daniken waited until the plane had come to a
complete halt. "All units. Go." Blue and white strobes lit the
slate sky. The police cruisers sped from their hiding places and surrounded
the plane. The personnel carrier lumbered into position, a soldier bringing
the .50-caliber turret gun to bear. Commandos in assault gear spilled out of
the vehicles and formed a semicircle around the plane, submachine guns raised
to their chests and aimed at the doorway. All this circus because of a
simple telefax, thought von Daniken, as he climbed out of the sedan and
checked his pistol to ensure that there was no bullet in the chamber and that
the safety was in the on position. Three hours earlier, Onyx,
Switzerland's proprietary satellite eavesdropping system, had intercepted a
telefax sent from the Syrian embassy in Stockholm to its counterpart in
Damascus giving the passenger manifest of a certain aircraft bound for the
Middle East. Four persons were aboard: the pilot, the copilot, and two
passengers. One an agent of the United States government, the other a
terrorist wanted by the law enforcement authorities of twelve Western
nations. The news was passed up the chain of command within minutes of receipt.
One copy was e-mailed to von Daniken, another to Marti. And there it stopped. One more
piece of intelligence to be digested and graded "No Further
Action." Until, that is, the flight in question radioed Swiss air
traffic control reporting an engine malfunction and re- questing emergency
clearance to land. The jet's forward door swung
outward and a stairwell unbuckled from the fuselage. Marti hurried up the
steps, with von Daniken behind him. The pilot appeared in the doorway. The
Justizminister produced a warrant and offered it for examination. "We
have information indicating that you are transporting a prisoner in
contravention of the Geneva Convention on Human Rights." The pilot barely glanced at the
legal document. "You're mistaken," he said. "We haven't got a
soul on board besides my copilot and Mr. Palumbo." "No mistake," said
Marti, shouldering past the pilot and entering the aircraft. "Swiss soil
will not be used for the practice of extraordinary rendition. Chief
Inspector von Daniken, search the plane." Von Daniken walked down the
aisle of the aircraft. A lone passenger was seated in one of the broad
leather seats. A white male, about forty years old, head shaved, with a
bull's shoulders and cold gray eyes. At first glance, he looked like an experienced
man, someone who could handle himself. From his window, he had a clear view
of the storm troopers surrounding the plane. He didn't appear unduly
concerned. "Good afternoon,"
said von Daniken, in good but accented English. "You are Mr.
Palumbo?" "And you are?" Von Daniken introduced himself
and offered his identification. "We have reason to suspect you are
transporting a prisoner named Walid Gassan aboard this flight. Am I
correct?" "No, sir, you are
not." Palumbo crossed his legs and von Daniken noted that he was wearing
boots with a sturdy toecap. "You don't mind, then, if
we search the aircraft?" "This is Swiss soil. You
can do what you please." Von Daniken directed the
passenger to stay in his seat until the search was completed, then he continued
to the rear of the plane. Plates and glasses were stacked in the galley sink.
He counted four settings. Pilot. Copilot. Palumbo. Someone was missing. He
checked the lavatory, then opened the aft hatch and inspected the baggage
hold. "No one," he radioed
to Marti. "The passenger compartment and argo area are clear." "What
do you mean 'clear'?" demanded Marti. "That can't be."
"Unless they have him stuffed inside a suitcase, he's not aboard the
plane.” "Keep looking." Von Daniken made a second
circuit through the cargo area, testing for hollow compartments. Finding
nothing, he closed the aft door and returned to the passenger compartment. "You've checked the entire
plane?" asked Marti, standing with his arms crossed next to the captain. "Top to bottom. There are
no other passengers aboard besides Mr. Palumbo." "Impossible." Marti
shot an accusing glance at von Daniken. "We have proof that the prisoner
is on board." "And what proof is
that?" asked Palumbo. "Don't play games with me,"
said Marti. "We know who you are, who you work for." "You do, do you? Then I
guess I can go ahead and tell you." "Tell us what?" demanded
Marti. "The guy you're looking
for ... we let him off thirty minutes back over those big mountains of yours.
He said he'd always wanted to see the Alps." Marti's eyes widened. "You
didn't?" "Might have been what
jammed up the engine. Either that or a goose." Palumbo looked out his
window, shaking his head in amusement. Von Daniken pulled Marti aside.
"It appears that our information was incorrect, Herr Justizminister.
There's no prisoner aboard." Marti stared back, white with
anger. A current passed through him, rattling his shoulders. With a nod to
the passenger, he left the aircraft. A lone commando remained at the
door. Von Daniken waved him off. He waited until the soldier had disappeared
down the stairs before returning his attention to Palumbo. "I'm sure our
mechanics will be able to repair your engine with the shortest possible
delay. In case the weather continues and the airport remains closed, you'll
find the Hotel Rossli just down the road to be quite comfortable. Please
accept our apologies for any inconvenience." "Apology accepted,"
said Palumbo. "Oh, and by the way,"
said von Daniken. "I happened to find this on the floor." Leaning
closer, he dropped something small and hard into the CIA officer's hand.
"I trust you'll pass along any information that concerns us." Palumbo waited until von
Daniken had left the aircraft before opening his hand. In his palm was a man's torn
and bloody thumbnail. Chances
are you’ll get hooked and rooked by Rules of
Deception and will turn the pages swiftly. Steve
Hopkins, October 20, 2008 |
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The recommendation rating for
this book appeared in the November 2008 issue of Executive Times URL for this review: http://www.hopkinsandcompany.com/Books/Rules of Deception.htm For Reprint Permission,
Contact: Hopkins & Company, LLC • E-mail: books@hopkinsandcompany.com |
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