Carl Emanuelsson

(SPOILERS) Here I am last week at Barnes and noble, looking for a fun spy thriller to cleanse my palette after reading a long and dense history book. Oh dang is that the follow up book to my favorite spy novel ever, the author’s first new book in a decade? It sure is! Bought it and boy does it not disappoint. Hunting down a crazy Russian jihadist, check. Crazy missions behind enemy lines, check. Interoffice rivalries putting our hero at risk, check. And boy what a good time I’m having. Then, SIX HUNDRED PAGES INTO THE FUCKING BOOK, it can’t be. I’m sitting reading last night and I realize, is this fuck going to try pulling off time travel? With no warning. You better believe he is. I tell myself, maybe this will be okay, maybe he’s been setting up this plot the whole time and I just missed it. So our guy then has been vaulted 24 years into the future, guess what he finds? I’ll tell you. In the meantime, our Russian jihadist has been laying low at a facility mining asteroids for rare earth minerals, and of course he discovers an alien spore that mutates him into some kind of Uruk-hai looking motherfucker. And oh yeah he’s unleashed it all over the world. So our main character awakes in the future to a dystopian hellscape where the last “resistance” is fighting “orcs”. Literally what the resistance fighters call them. It basically went from Jason borne to some Chris Pratt made for amazon the Tomorrow war bullshit in the span of fifty pages. And there’s only 150 pages left. This guy spent 300 pages on our boy sneaking into Iran only to realize his contact was dead. He’s going to wrap THIS shit up in 150 pages? Did the author give up and start smoking crack? Did Ashton Kutcher write this? AM I ON PUNKED?