Alert by James Patterson and Michael Ledwidge
Those fucking Michael Bennett stories, man. Goddammit. He’s a hostage negotiator, well, he was, but they kind of threw that shit to the side after two books. The main focus is that he’s a widower, and an Irish Catholic widower at that. God forbid you ever possibly forget how fucking Irish and how fucking Catholic he is. He’s got a brood of ten adopted children of various ages and races. His grandfather, Seamus, an Irish priest, and his nanny, Mary Catherine, an Irish girl straight from Ireland, help him raise them. Meanwhile, he fights terrorists in New York City.
The terrorist stories are almost always really fucking good. REALLY GENUINELY. Great villains, great intrigue. And this one is no exception. Two terrorists named Mr. Joyce and Mr. Beckett are assaulting New York City. They blow up two train stations, almost sinking a couple city blocks. Then they assassinate the mayor. Then they set off EMPs. Then they just keep escalating, to vastly insane scope. The ultimate plan is to set off a massive explosion to topple a volcanic reef into the ocean which will cause a tsunami wave to decimate the eastern seaboard of the US, and annihilate NYC. Them’s some high motherfucking stakes, yo.
And the identity and justification are terrific. Good drama, well put together. It’s just Michael Bennett, man. Goddammit. These stories are so fucking saccharine, between him trying to come to terms with the fact that he wants to boink his nanny, to how much he just loves those darn kids of his, darnit. Couple that with this fucking bombastic constant references to how NYC is the GREATEST CITY IN THE WORLD. The GREATEST. JUST THE GODDAMN BEST. EN WHY SEE!
This one actually manages to shine through most of that aggravating nonsense. It ends on a dumb note. It starts on an even dumber note. I’m sure these sell like hotcakes among giggling grans and shit who read Patterson. But of all his characters and series, this one just, goddammit. NYPD RED has it’s dumbass mooning, but this one does it across an entire family. Still, Patterson franchises billions of dollars now, so as I always say, Adam Sandler makes movies, Jimmy Patz writes dem books, and we all sink a little steeper into hell.