LONE SURVIVOR
“You know the rules of the game; you've been playing it long enough.” — Olivia Mansfield, Skyfall
“You've come across me so many times, yet you never saw me. What took you so long?” — Ernst Stavro Blofeld, Spectre
During the last decade, the undisputed king of American spy fiction was Vincent J. Flynn. While other authors were panicking about losing the story material the Cold War had provided, Flynn identified and began writing about the next great political and geopolitical bugbears that have come to define this century: Islamic extremism and the terrorists who further it by any means necessary, and the curse of the modern, self-serving 21st-century politician. His 13-book series was a glorious tapestry of the evolving war on terror and the threats it posed to the civilized world.
The star of the show was Mitch Rapp, the CIA’s resident hitman. The original 21st-century counterterrorism operative—whom many authors have tried to imitate with varying degrees of success—Rapp was a government assassin in the literary Ian Fleming mold. The blunt instrument of American foreign policy, Rapp channelled the hopes and fury of a generation wounded by the opening salvos of Islamic terrorism. A hard man taking the simplest solution to a big problem, Rapp—like James Bond—was the ultimate wish-fulfilment character for a shadow war where many wished the direct approach could be used, niceties and rules be damned.
Alas, Flynn tragically passed away, having completed only a single chapter of what was to be his 14th book, The Survivor. Trapped in literary limbo, the series appeared frozen in time—until Flynn’s family and publisher decided to bring in a continuation writer. This job is perhaps the most thankless in all of fiction. One enters a series with a devoted fan base who firmly believe they know what the “right” book should look like. Deviate from that vision and a torrent of angry reviews is almost guaranteed. Consider Kingsley Amis and Colonel Sun—despite being well-versed in the Bond world, Amis still received unfair, disappointing reviews from critics and hardcore Fleming loyalists.
There are two ways a continuation author can approach the task:
A) Try to replicate the original author’s style as much as possible. This was done by Anthony Horowitz with the Bond novel Trigger Mortis, which received near-unanimous acclaim.
B) Be brave and impose your own style and vision on the series. This has seen mixed results for E.V.L. in the Bourne saga, and far greater success for Mark Greaney in the Tom Clancy Jack Ryan series.
So who, you may ask, is the lucky man? The writer with the eyes of millions upon him? Ladies and gentlemen, meet Kyle Mills. The son of the FBI legal attaché in the UK who led the Lockerbie investigation—the very real act of terror that pushed Rapp into counterterrorism—Mills cut his teeth on edgy crime and political thrillers and later wrote for the Ludlum Covert One series. Not the most obvious candidate to resurrect a 21st-century spy-fiction icon, some cried. Yet Mills achieved the rare feat of executing both approaches simultaneously when completing book 14. The result is spectacular.
The Survivor is many things: a sharply written spy novel about an epic clash between two of the world’s most powerful intelligence agencies; a tale about the one thing all spies truly fear; and, perhaps most importantly, a story about facing the past, coming to terms with it, and ultimately letting go. From a thematic and writing standpoint, that last element is essential. Now, to the review. What happens when it turns out the loose ends have not been tied up?
We begin in Istanbul, the city where Mitch made his bones. Rapp’s partner-in-crime Scott Coleman and two of his employees are conducting surveillance on the company’s primary asset inside the SVR. They identify potential hostiles and begin planning. In Harper’s Ferry, Virginia, DCI Irene Kennedy and Mike Nash argue about Rapp and the aftermath of book 13, which left several threats to the CIA’s HUMINT capabilities unresolved. And several thousand miles away, the man himself steps off a private jet and heads to work.
Moving quickly, Rapp extracts the asset, kills a Russian counterintelligence officer, and kidnaps another—all within a few pages. Meanwhile, in Pakistan, the Director-General of the ISI decides to execute a scheme he has been planning since the previous book. Back in America, Rapp is forced to bring along a man he loathes for an operation seemingly intended to sabotage him. Soon, he is forced to reckon with the one thing all intelligence services fear, racing from London to southwestern Russia in a covert war for the ultimate intelligence prize. When the bullets stop flying and the backstabbing ends, only one question remains: will Mitch Rapp be the survivor?
In terms of plot, The Survivor is a rare continuation novel done right. Continuing the threads of book 13—one of Flynn’s finest—it efficiently spins a tale encompassing many of the issues the Rapp series has explored for more than a decade: government corruption, the importance of strong military and intelligence capabilities, and the defense of freedoms the public takes for granted. Mills also adds his own themes.
Chief among them is Pakistan—the Harvey Dent of geopolitics. Nominally an ally of the West, yet a haven for Islamic terrorists; a weak democracy with a nuclear arsenal and one of the most cunning intelligence services on the planet. Mills demonstrates how even a superpower like the U.S. can find itself in deep trouble with such a volatile combination. Pakistan’s nuclear stockpile is a particular source of dread, but in this book, the ISI takes center stage. Though it cannot match the CIA in resources, it is staffed with highly skilled officers—worthy adversaries who give even Mitch Rapp a serious challenge.
As for faithfulness, look no further than the writing style. Mills has said he compiled an enormous library of notes on the previous 13 books—details on Mitch and his associates, and even Flynn’s characteristic word-choices and sentence structure. The result is uncanny. While differences exist, they are subtle, and Mills eases even the most fanatical Rapp reader into the story with consummate skill, scattering Easter eggs and callbacks that will delight longtime fans.
Yet beneath all the nostalgia is the true theme of the novel: change—coming to terms with the past and breaking free of its shackles. Rapp, the indomitable government assassin married to the job, is forced to take stock of his life as the pillars of his world come under attack. From his seemingly indestructible mentor finally facing mortality, to Kennedy’s political firewall suffering its first breach in more than a decade, to confronting the most competent enemy of his career, Mills shakes up the unofficial rules of the Rapp series. By stripping Rapp of Kennedy’s near-impenetrable political shield and introducing an antagonist who comes closer than any other Flynn villain to destroying both Mitch and Irene, Mills symbolically portrays a demigod of espionage fiction who must evolve if he wishes to survive the second, cruel decade of the war on terror.
Now to the action and settings. Flynn was never overly focused on settings, but Mills—well travelled and detail-oriented—lets them shine. From the rain-soaked extraction in Istanbul, to a devastating assault on a Swiss banker’s mansion, to a blizzard-swept Russian village, and culminating in a desperate race to stop a geopolitical catastrophe inside Pakistan’s Aiwan-e-Sadr, Mills matches and elevates the action sequences fans expect while enriching the environments that frame them.
Research? For the most part, excellent. Two small details stand out, which I’ll address in the constructive criticism section. But Mills clearly did his homework. From the advantages and disadvantages of hollow-point ammunition to winter survival techniques, readers will appreciate the technical detail. A highlight is a character’s trip into part of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal; the information shared is both fascinating and unsettling, and one wonders whether Mills unearthed CIA Pakistan Desk files or accessed Flynn’s legendary D.C. rolodex.
Next, the characters. For brevity, I’ll focus on three: Mitch, Irene, and the antagonist.
Mitch Rapp:
Unlike Eric Van Lustbader, who turned Jason Bourne from a fallible, crazy badass into a hapless milquetoast, Kyle Mills understands exactly who Mitch is. The badass, fanatical patriot who defends his country and organization by any means necessary—Geneva Convention and enemy rights be damned. Mills completely preserves the essence of Rapp and avoids the landmine that has destroyed many continuation writers. His Mitch is fearless, defiant toward REMFs, and dominant in combat. Yet Mills does subtly evolve him: Mitch begins to realize that being married to the job may not be sustainable, and he begins to confront the psychological toll it has taken.
Irene Kennedy:
Mills does something fascinating with her: he puts her under genuine threat. For 13 books, she has been the consummate schemer, constructing a political firewall that has devoured her enemies. In The Survivor, that firewall cracks. One of her assets does the unthinkable—escapes her control and tries to burn down her world and Mitch’s. Her damage-control chapters are among the tensest in the entire series, showcasing what I consider Irene’s finest hour. Faced with ruin, she does not panic—she prepares, fights, and goes to war.
General Ahmed Taj (villain):
Let me be clear: Taj is the most competent enemy Mitch Rapp has ever faced. I would argue he is the greatest villain of the series. Flynn’s antagonists, apart from a select few, often bark more than bite. Not Taj. He is not an Islamic terrorist but a professional spymaster with Islamist leanings. He possesses strategic abilities superior to Rapp’s and equal to Kennedy’s, allowing him to stay two steps ahead as he pursues the grand prize of the intelligence world. More alarmingly, he is the first antagonist to come within minutes of achieving a genuinely devastating victory.
Constructive Criticism:
First, a certain denomination of pound note is mentioned in one chapter—one that does not exist. Second, a character uses a Desert Eagle handgun. Vince Flynn would never have used such a weapon in a million years, and its appearance—complete with a suppressor, which is mechanically impossible due to calibre—feels jarring. A custom M1911, a classic Flynn choice for a “hand cannon,” would have been far more appropriate. Lastly, a minor gripe: a character wears a trilby hat. In the 21st century, this is unnecessary and unintentionally comedic; it makes the British spy look like a Monty Python extra.
Verdict:
Worried no continuation novel could match the original? Missing the original counterterrorist operative? Fear not. Kyle Mills keeps Vince Flynn’s legacy alive in the 14th entry of the Mitch Rapp series. With a plot that expertly weaves real-world issues into one of the most complex narratives in the saga, action scenes that keep you perched on a knife’s edge, and a cast of characters thrust into surprising situations, this is continuation fiction done right.
In the 25th Bond film, Skyfall, M gives perhaps the greatest defense of HUMINT in an age when spying is increasingly loathed:
“I suppose I see a different world than you do, and the truth is that what I see frightens me. I'm frightened because our enemies are no longer known to us. They do not exist on a map, they aren't nations. They are individuals… It’s in the shadows—that’s where we must do battle.”
We are now well into the second decade of the war on terror. Like Mitch in this outing, we are more world-weary, cynical, perhaps even despairing that Islamic terrorism endures despite everything thrown at it—while certain segments of society try to tie the hands of its defenders. Yet even in a changing world, every nation needs its blunt instruments, the men willing to risk their lives so others may live. Men like Mitch Rapp, who, facing a changing world of his own, proves he’s not done—and that he fully intends to survive whatever comes next.
TOTALLY RECOMMENDED.