In smooth, limpid prose [Pirog] builds a stunner of a novel, winding up a series of tense situations and exploding them in scenes of shock and surprise. Each time you think you’ve reached the core of things [...] the rug is pulled from under you. The mood at the end might strike readers as undeservedly joyous, but we’ve needed that. Perhaps we didn’t need the recipe for cocaine, but it’s there, too: dump the leaves of the coca plant into a vat, then soak them in chlorine and gasoline.
... unconvincing ... Reliance in a crucial scene on the hoariest of clichés—a misfiring gun—doesn’t help the reader feel the perils are real. This one’s strictly for series fans.
