The Memorial Day celebration in three small towns takes a mysterious and frightening turn for the worse—an undiagnosable illness and multiple deaths. Is this the next pandemic or something more sinister? Doctors and government agencies panic.
Tasked to investigate, government agent Imelda Burke and private detective Alex West determine this is no natural occurrence, but an evil scheme put in place by VECTOR, a pathological villain. Unless demands are met, the next attack will place millions of lives at risk, subject to a weapon of mass destruction far greater than any nuclear arsenal.
A deadly game of cat and mouse ensues as Imelda and Alex chase the twisted VECTOR across the globe. Faced with a diabolical and unfathomable adversary, the unlikely duo stands as the only hope to unmask VECTOR and prevent a global catastrophe before the fast-approaching deadline.
Will they stop this ominous threat? The fate of the world depends on it.
The book Vector starts with a Memorial Day parade in Springvale, Connecticut. What starts as a fun and innocent celebration quickly turns dark when a sudden wave of illness crashes over the festivities. This leads to people collapsing and dying. Fear surges as a lethal flu outbreak takes hold in neighboring towns, overwhelming the medical staff in the hospital.
The characters in the story felt very realistic because they portrayed different moments when they were in doubt, frustrated, and even in fear, which is something we can all understand and relate to as we have experienced similar outbreaks like Ebola and coronavirus. Their fear wasn’t just about the illness itself, but also about the unknown. They didn’t have all the answers, just like during the pandemic, when people were anxious about how the virus would spread, how it could be stopped, and whether their loved ones would be safe. Coupled with the added layer of a bioterrorism threat from Vector, this made the situation even more tense and frustrating to manage.
The fast pace and all the danger kept me on the edge of my seat. I always wanted to know what was going to happen next, and the chapters usually ended with a big surprise, which made it hard to stop reading. Author Richard did a great job describing all the tense moments, carefully crafting it out to seem as real as possible. It really helped build up the suspense because I could vividly imagine the scenes.
Vector by Richard Zanetti is a fast-paced thriller that blends science, politics, and suspense in a way that feels both real and terrifying. The story begins with simultaneous outbreaks in different towns across America, drawing readers into a web of chaos, fear, and global stakes. As government agencies and scientists scramble to uncover the cause, the novel follows multiple characters whose paths intersect in unexpected ways, creating a layered and gripping narrative that never drags.
I’m giving this book 5 out of 5 stars because it’s smartly written and full of tension from start to finish. The pacing is steady, the dialogue believable, and the plot twists keep you on edge. Zanetti manages to balance the scientific and human sides of the story perfectly, showing both the logic and emotion behind the crisis. It’s a thriller that feels grounded yet cinematic, and it doesn’t waste a single scene. There are moments of violence and distress, so a light content warning applies, but overall it’s a sharp, well-executed story that deserves attention.
This book does a solid job showing how messy large investigations can be. The meetings between the CIA, FBI, and DHS are not glamorous. They are tense, bureaucratic, and full of disagreement. Jim Malone comes across as experienced and serious, but not all knowing. I liked that the story shows how even with massive resources, there is still uncertainty and second guessing. The way data, algorithms, and human judgment clash felt realistic. It also highlights how dangerous delays and assumptions can be. No one is twirling a mustache here. Everyone thinks they are making the right call, and that is what makes it unsettling. The threat feels bigger because it slips through the cracks of systems that usually work. DEFINITELY A MUST-READ.
Vector is a tightly woven thriller that blends the science of virology with the mechanics of global espionage. Richard Zanetti’s pacing is relentless, with each chapter propelling the reader into a world where logic collides with fear. The alternating viewpoints keep the story dynamic, giving insight into both the investigators and the forces they chase. What stands out is Zanetti’s careful orchestration of tension. The threat feels both cerebral and immediate. While highly technical at times, the narrative remains accessible, and the stakes never lose their human element. It’s a meticulous, well-calibrated thriller that rewards readers who enjoy intricate, cause-and-effect storytelling.
What struck me most about Vector wasn’t just the danger, but the humanity behind it. Zanetti doesn’t treat his characters as pawns in a global crisis; they’re flawed, frightened people doing their best to hold the line. Imelda’s quiet strength and determination give the novel its heart, while the moral weight of scientific discovery looms over every decision. The story captures how fear spreads faster than any virus, not just through crowds, but through the conscience of those who know too much. Beneath the scientific jargon beats a very human story about courage, guilt, and what it means to act when the world is falling apart.
If you love late-night page-turners, Vector is your next obsession. It starts with an unsettling scene in a small-town parade and just doesn’t let up. The tension builds fast, one clue after another until you’re reading way past bedtime. I liked how real the tech and medical parts felt without being confusing. The back-and-forth between scientists, agents, and terrorists keeps things unpredictable, and the action scenes have a movie-like punch. It’s not just explosions and lab talk. There’s a solid emotional thread underneath. Think Contagion meets Jack Ryan, only with more humanity and sharper writing.
Zanetti’s Vector probes the intersection between knowledge and morality. How far science should go in pursuit of progress, and what happens when intellect turns against ethics. Through the lens of bioterrorism, the novel questions whether control over life and death should ever belong to one mind. The narrative also highlights institutional fragility: agencies burdened by secrecy, politics, and pride. While the thriller framework delivers momentum, the underlying reflection on human hubris gives the story philosophical weight. This isn’t merely a crisis story, it’s a cautionary study of how intelligence and arrogance can share the same gene.
What impressed me was how the book handled multiple locations without getting confusing. You move between small towns, hospitals, federal offices, and later Florida, but each place feels distinct. The hospital scenes especially felt chaotic in a realistic way. Too many people, not enough answers, and no clear playbook.
I also liked that nobody immediately understands what’s happening. There’s no single character who magically knows everything. Everyone is working with pieces, and sometimes those pieces don’t line up. That made the threat feel bigger and more believable. The pacing stays steady without feeling rushed.
The antagonist is disturbing not because of constant violence, but because of patience and planning. Enslein is written as someone who believes deeply in his own intelligence and grievances. His background in science is used carefully as motivation. You get the sense that his past recognition, or lack of it, shaped everything he does. I found it chilling how calm he often is, even when things start to unravel. He does not rant much. He calculates and that made his presence feel heavy even when he was off page. The book avoids turning him into a cartoon villain, which I really like. His actions are terrifying precisely because they are deliberate and thought out.
One thing I loved about Vector is how vivid it feels. Whether it’s the sleepy Connecticut town where it all begins or the cold precision of a bio-weapons lab, Zanetti’s scenes play like film reels in your head. The mix of small-town calm and global chaos makes the danger hit harder. You can almost smell the disinfectant in the labs and feel the tension in every meeting room. It’s that perfect mix of realism and cinematic flair that keeps you hooked. You don’t need to know anything about viruses to get sucked into this. The writing does all the work.
Zanetti’s prose is crisp and disciplined, balancing scientific authenticity with narrative clarity. His background knowledge shows, but it’s filtered through sharp dialogue and tight pacing. The language often mirrors the story’s dual nature — clinical precision clashing with emotional urgency. Scene transitions are seamless, and each chapter ends with just enough intrigue to pull you forward. It’s refreshing to read a thriller where exposition never bogs down momentum. The attention to structure, tone, and rhythm suggests an author who respects both his material and his readers.
Vector isn’t just about a potential disaster; it’s about the moral weight of knowing how to cause one. Zanetti examines the thin line between invention and destruction, and how easily brilliance can slip into madness. What’s chilling is how plausible it all feels. The book makes you wonder who truly controls science: the ones who create, or the ones who use. As the story unfolds, compassion becomes as crucial as intelligence, and the smallest ethical choices feel monumental. It’s both a thriller and a moral reckoning, told with haunting precision.
This book reads like it was made for the big screen. The pacing never drags. There’s always someone racing against time, hacking into systems, or uncovering something that changes everything. What I liked most is how grounded the action feels. Even when things get explosive, it doesn’t slip into cartoonish territory. You’re right there in the room, hearing the hum of machines and the panic in people’s voices. By the last few chapters, I was practically holding my breath. If thrillers are your thing, Vector is pure adrenaline with brains.
Without revealing anything, Vector ends on a note that lingers, not just because of the resolution, but because of what it implies about the future. Zanetti resists neat closure, hinting that control and chaos are cyclical forces. It’s the kind of ending that makes you rethink the entire book: how ambition breeds its own undoing, and how knowledge, once unleashed, can’t be contained. Even after the last page, you keep wondering what happens next, which is exactly what a thoughtful thriller should do. Giving it 5 stars and two thumbs up!
The opening with the Memorial Day parade really stuck with me. It starts off warm and normal, like something you’d actually attend in a small town, and then things quietly go wrong. I liked that it wasn’t dramatic right away. People just feel dizzy, collapse, and nobody understands why. That made it more unsettling than if it had gone big immediately. Emma Burr felt like a real person which made the moment hit harder. The town itself felt familiar. It pulled me in fast and made me uneasy in a good way.
Imelda Burke ended up being my favorite character. She’s clearly smart and capable, but the book doesn’t turn her into some flawless hero. She has to deal with politics, egos, and people doubting her, especially early on. I liked how those tensions were shown through conversations instead of speeches.
The scenes with Brockman felt realistic to me. He’s not the villain, but he’s worn down and boxed in by pressure. Their relationship felt believable, like two professionals who respect each other but don’t always agree. Imelda’s confidence feels earned and that made her easier to root for.
Alex West feels like someone you could actually know. He’s carrying guilt from the past and it shows in small ways, like his dreams and how cautious he is. I liked that he doesn’t jump into things blindly. When the Kartan job comes up, his unease feels natural. The interview scene had tension even though nobody was yelling or threatening anyone. It was all in what wasn’t said. His chapters have a different tone than the government ones, more personal and grounded, which helped balance the story.
Marsha Farmer’s chapter stood out because of how restrained it was. She doesn’t dramatize her experiences, which actually makes them heavier. The way she talks about her marriage feels honest and uncomfortable, especially how she explains staying longer than she should have.
Her descriptions of Enslein make him feel cold and unpredictable. Alex’s approach in that scene worked for me too. He listens more than he pushes. It adds emotional weight to the investigation without turning it into a melodrama. That chapter added depth rather than just information.
What worked best overall was how the book balanced large-scale danger with personal moments. You get national-level stakes, but the story keeps coming back to individuals, like Emma at the parade, Alex’s guilt, Imelda trying to prove herself, and Marsha’s fear. Those moments grounded everything.
The writing doesn’t try to be flashy. It feels controlled and steady, which suits the subject. By the time the different threads are moving together, it feels intentional. I never felt lost, and I kept wanting to read just one more chapter.
What hooked me right away was how normal everything feels at the start. The Memorial Day parade scene is so familiar that when things start going wrong, it hits harder. Emma Burr is not a hero or a scientist, just a regular woman enjoying a small town tradition, and that choice makes the opening feel unsettling. The author does a good job using setting here. Springvale feels lived in, not like a generic town dropped into a thriller. I also liked how the confusion spreads before anyone understands what is happening. Good read! 5/5 stars.
Alex was an interesting perspective because he is not a government official making decisions from a conference room. His past and instincts make him cautious, and sometimes fearful, in ways others are not. I liked that he questions himself and remembers earlier advice about getting out of dangerous work. His reactions to the idea of another pandemic felt especially real. He reacts like someone who has seen enough to know how bad things can get. Also, his relationship with Imelda adds warmth without taking over the plot or turning into a distraction.
One thing this book does well is show how ego and pride can be just as dangerous as weapons. Several characters underestimate others, cling to assumptions, or delay action because of politics or reputation. No one is purely evil or purely wise. Mistakes are made by capable people and that felt real and honest. This story suggests that modern threats are harder to stop not because of lack of intelligence, but because of complexity and human nature and that idea stuck with me after finishing. 5/5 stars and highly recommended.
Gerfried Enslein is disturbing even when he isn’t physically present. Most of what you learn about him comes from other people, documents, and memories, and that somehow makes him worse. The story about the dog was hard to read, not because it was graphic, but because it was told so plainly. It changed how I saw him immediately. He’s clearly brilliant, but the book never treats that as an excuse. He feels dangerous in a very human way.
The bureaucracy angle felt painfully realistic. Delays, second-guessing, concern about optics, all of it rang true. I appreciated that the book didn’t turn this into a rant. Characters like Brockman feel trapped more than malicious. There’s a sense that everyone is reacting instead of leading, which adds tension. The threat isn’t just the illness itself, but how slow systems move when something new and scary shows up. That frustration is woven in naturally, not spelled out.
Imelda Burke stood out to me more than anyone else. She is smart, driven, and clearly good at her job, but she also gets tired, frustrated, and impatient with politics and delays. I like that she is not written as flawless or overly dramatic. Her scenes in labs and briefing rooms felt detailed and you can tell the author did research. I also liked how often she pushes back when authority slows things down. It makes her feel human, not just a symbol of competence.
In the end, I felt unsettled rather than relieved, and I think that is intentional. Even when immediate danger seems addressed, there is a lingering sense that this kind of threat does not disappear forever. The final sections suggest how easily identities, motives, and plans can shift. I like that the book does not wrap everything up in a neat emotional bow. It respects the seriousness of the subject.
What a fun book this was to read! A perfect way to spend your evenings instead of watching thriller movies. Richard Zanetti deftly handles a multitude of characters in multiple locations across the world as we join in the high-stake race to prevent a lethal biological release. A page turner that keeps the reader guessing. My only negative comment is that it is hard to keep all the players straight as he adds more and more characters to the mix.
As a fan of Michael Crichton and Robin Cook, this bio terrorism thriller was right up my alley, a well written page turner with a crisp pace and a race to the finish ending! Thematically, it ticked some fun boxes, combining elements of vengeance, deadly science, government bureaucracy, a bit of romance and the classic detective story. Highly recommend!
Vector is one of the most exciting and interesting books I have ever read. The story is terrific - suspenseful, secretive, sexy, and an easy read. The author helps you travel through the book with ease and not missing a beat. I wholly recommend VECTOR to anyone seeking some excitement and thrills
The characters in Vector stand out because they feel like real people under extreme pressure. From scientists trying to stop the outbreaks to investigators chasing clues, everyone has purpose and depth. What I liked most was how their emotions drive the story forward, not just the action. It’s rare to find a thriller that gives equal weight to human flaws and heroism, and this one does it right.