Layover-er
Destroyer is almost all plot, if logistics count as plot. Here they do. The novel reads like deployment orders disguised as fiction: departures, handoffs, waiting rooms, vehicles, briefings. Forward motion as structure. It took me back to my first trip into Baghdad: DC to Amman, then a C-130 into BIAP. A day in purgatory waiting. The briefing. The Rhino itself, an armored monstrosity to take to the embassy.
The book moves with that same staged progression, that same sense that transit is the action. Little politics intrudes, largely because there’s no time for it. The story spans about forty-eight hours. It’s 24 dropped into the Foreigner universe, with a touch of Skyfall in its clean set pieces and relentless pace. The ending is nothing but transfer: shuttle to the main island, ferry across, on foot to horses, then a first night brawl at the mansion. And then: stop. These installments are less novels than episodes. But like the Atevi candies offered to make friends in space, they’re small, sweet, and easy to consume. It disrupted my day. Four stars.