From Publishers Weekly

The author's death three years ago has not prevented St. Martin's from publishing recent material under his name. This WWII-era thriller opens in August 1991 as American ambassador Stephen Metcalfe arrives in Moscow, where Communist hard-liners are attempting to wrest control of Russia from the reform government. The fate of the country will be decided by an official known as the Dirizhor-the Conductor-and Metcalfe is the only man who can convince him to resist the forces of Stalinist darkness. Flash back to 1940, just after the Nazis have signed a nonaggression pact with the Russians. Young playboy/espionage agent Metcalfe is sent by American spymaster "Corky" Corcoran to the U.S.S.R. to enlist an old lover, Lana ("an extraordinary woman, impossibly beautiful, magnetic, passionate") in a scheme that if successful will change the course of history. Hot on Metcalfe's tail is assassin Kleist, a Nazi Secret Service agent who dispatches his enemies by garroting them with the E string of his violin. These principals and a host of others thrust and parry between Paris, Moscow and Berlin before a final confrontation in an enormous, mock factory fashioned of plywood and cleverly painted canvas. The factory, a bombing decoy, provides an apt metaphor for the book: a hollow, flimsy construct unable to hold the weight of a bloated plot and an army of cliched characters. All of Ludlum's trademarks are in evidence: one-sentence paragraphs, a plentitude of exclamation points, ridiculous dialogue ("Die, you bastard!") and the breathless use of italics to impart excitement, but in the end there are few surprises in this unsatisfying behemoth. Perhaps it's time to let the master rest in peace.
Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information, Inc.

From Booklist

Ludlum, author of such best-sellers as The Bourne Identity, died on March 12, 2001. His output, however, has not slowed noticeably since his passing: this novel is the seventh published under his name since his death. Some of them had credited coauthors, but, presumably, all of them have been polished by editors or uncredited writers. His latest, the story of an American spy sent into Moscow during World War II, is in some regards far superior to most of the stuff Ludlum published during his lifetime. There is a level of detail here often missing from his early novels, suggesting the efforts of a meticulous ghostwriter. Similarly, the characters, including our hero, Stephen Metcalfe, the well-to-do American spy, tend to be more well defined than your typical Ludlum stick figure. On the other hand, the fast-paced plot reflects Ludlum's genuine knack for constructing good stories, and the dialogue, regrettably, is typically overwritten. ("Civilization as we know it is being engulfed by Hitler's devouring maw," one character remarks.) The book's peculiarly fascinating lineage aside, here's what really matters: this is one of the better novels published under the Ludlum name. David Pitt
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