The “Black Friday” of this 1986 suspense novel has nothing to do with post-Thanksgiving shopping – or with the Fisk-Gould financial crisis of 1869, or the 1993 bomb attack in Mumbai, or the schlocky 1940 horror film with Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, or the jaunty 1975 hit single by rock band Steely Dan. Rather, it is the day on which a shadowy terrorist group launches a devastating attack against the financial district of New York City. The events that unfold from there violate various laws of physics, human behaviour, and narrative probability; but they may do much to show what has made James Patterson a singularly popular author of best-selling thrillers.
Patterson, a Manhattan College graduate and former advertising executive, is, in terms of book sales and financial remuneration, a singularly successful author. Works like his Alex Cross series, about a Washington, D.C., forensic psychologist, have sold more than 400 million copies. He has made as much as $95 million in a single year from the sale of his books. And he has been generous with the fruits of his success, donating to universities and libraries in the cause of promoting literacy.
Black Friday, as mentioned above, begins with a devastating, coordinated terrorist attack on the financial district of New York City – multiple explosions that simultaneously destroy many of the most vital centers of Wall Street operations. Vast amounts of assets are stolen, and it becomes clear that the stability of the world’s entire financial system is threatened.
The book’s main character, a federal agent named Arch Carroll, is puzzled by the way in which the group that has committed the attacks – a shadowy entity called simply “Green Band” – seems able to perpetrate such mayhem with such seamless precision. A captain from the bomb squad shows Carroll what was in a plain cardboard box that a janitor found behind a lavatory cistern:
Carroll stared at the device, at the length of shiny green ribbon that was wound elaborately around it. Green Band.
“It’s harmless,” Nicolo said. “It was never meant to go off, Arch.”
Arch Carroll continued to stare at the makings of a professional terrorist’s bomb. It was never meant to go off, he thought. Another warning?
“They could have totalled this place,” Carroll said with a sick feeling.
Nicolo made a clucking sound with his tongue and the roof of his mouth. “Easily,” he said. “Plastique, like all the others. Whoever did it knew what the hell he was up to, Arch.” (pp. 101-02)
It emerges that “Green Band” is an organization of Vietnam War veterans, commanded by a former U.S. Army colonel named David Hudson, and operating under the cover of an all-veterans taxicab company. Hudson and his fellow veterans share the scars of that war – Hudson lost an arm in Vietnam, and survived physical and psychological torture in a North Vietnamese prison camp – and it becomes clear that a large part of their motivation for the Green Band attacks is their feeling of having been betrayed by the country that they love and have fought for.
All of these elements of Black Friday put me back in the mid-1980’s venue in which this book was written, with its original title of Black Market. In that time, there was a great deal of concern about Vietnam veterans as a potentially embittered group of men scarred by their participation in a brutal and lost war, and by the sometimes-harsh reception they experienced from civilians at home.
Consider, in that regard, works like the 1972 David Morrell novel First Blood and the five (so far) Rambo films that it inspired; or the 1975 Thomas Harris novel Black Sunday and its 1977 film adaptation by John Frankenheimer; or Richard Rush’s 1980 film The Stunt Man. All of these works share with Patterson’s Black Friday that concern about the Vietnam veteran being, supposedly, a sort of “loose cannon” whose fragile psyche might break out into violent behaviour.
It was a frequently expressed anxiety of those times – not “What have we done to those veterans?”, but rather “What might those veterans do to us?” Such stereotyping is a sad thing to reflect upon, and it speaks to the difficulty that U.S. society faced in trying to cope with the legacy of the Vietnam War.
In the case of Patterson’s Black Friday, Colonel David Hudson, whose code name in Green Band is “Vets One,” orchestrates the steps of the Green Band operation with military precision that commands the loyalty and respect of his men:
Vets One had purposely modeled his presentation after the concise and technical Special Forces field briefings. He wanted the men to vividly remember Viet Nam now. He wanted them to remember how they’d acted: with daring and courage, with dedication to the United States….For nearly two and a half hours, Hudson painstakingly reviewed every scenario, every likely and even unlikely change that might occur up to and including the end of the Green Band mission. He used memory aids: reconnaissance topographical maps, mnemonics for memorizing, Army-style organization charts. (p. 109)
In his investigation of the Green Band conspiracy, Arch Carroll works with a brilliant and beautiful Wall Street lawyer named Caitlin Dillon. When I read the book’s initial description of Caitlin as possessed of a cool, inaccessible beauty, I started to develop a hunch that she and Arch Carroll might become romantically involved. And then, a few dozen pages later, Caitlin showed up at Arch Carroll’s apartment, needing to talk, in the middle of the night. I’m not sure how often, in real life, a beautiful woman suddenly shows up at a single man’s apartment in the middle of the night, needing to talk; but I know that things often go that way in suspense novels. Or maybe it was just the point in the book at which a tasteful, not-too-explicit three-page love scene needed to occur.
The international reach of the Green Band conspiracy is seen at Shannon Airport in Ireland, when one Thomas X. O’Neil, the chief of U.S. Customs at the airport, lets three boxes from a New York-based flight go through customs on their way up to Belfast. Once O’Neil clears the three boxes for their trip up to Northern Ireland, he “laughed for no apparent reason….And why not? Had he not just succeeded in getting one billion four worth of freshly stolen stock certificates into Western Europe?” It turns out, after all, that before going into his career in U.S. Customs, O’Neil “had been a master sergeant in general supply in Viet Nam”, and that “He was also Vets 28” (p. 208).
This Irish dimension of Black Friday leads to a scene in which Caitlin Dillon travels from New York to Belfast for a dangerous meeting with Irish Republican Army agents. I’m not sure why this scene was necessary, except perhaps that the Northern Ireland conflict and the IRA were much in the news in the mid-1980’s when the book was written.
The passages of Black Market that I found more plausible were those that related to sound police work. At one point, Arch Carroll is conducting research at FBI headquarters, not really expecting to find anything, but doggedly pursuing his investigation nonetheless:
Carroll sat down. He still expected to come away from Washington empty-handed. He expected that the faint sense of anticipation he felt would now turn out to be nothing more than a false alarm. Five men on the FBI computer list of “subversives” – a term he knew was next to meaningless, at least the way the FBI used it.
He checked his own printouts, and his heart suddenly clutched.
Barreiro and Doud had been explosives experts.
And David Hudson had been a colonel, who, according to the brief note on the printout, had been active in the organization of veterans’ groups and veterans’ rights after Viet Nam.
Five men who had served together in the war.
Five men who were on both his list, and the FBI’s….
[Carroll] began to read about Colonel Hudson. (p. 309)
One of the things I’ve learned to expect from suspense novels is late-in-the-game betrayal, when a character the reader has been invited to trust turns out to be on the side of the bad guys. One certainly gets that in Black Friday, particularly in connection with a terrorist named Francois Monserrat who has worked with Green Band but has his own agenda. One particular betrayal, near the end of the novel, really throws Arch Carroll for a loop during a climactic scene of violent confrontation:
Carroll’s world wheeled violently and turned on its side. Whatever sense of reality he had left, shattered. He closed his eyes. He raked one hand over his smoke-blackened face. His mind’s eye seemed to flood with exploding light….It was the worst hurt, the worst betrayal of his life. (p. 405)
I found that Black Friday was longer than it needed to be – a 438-page novel with a better 250-page novel hiding somewhere inside it. I found some of the plot twists and turns of the book to be somewhat predictable, but some of that may have to do with what one learns to expect from the suspense genre. I don’t think I’ll be returning to the work of James Patterson; but considering that a James Patterson novel represents, by one estimate, one out of every seventeen novels sold in the United States, I’m sure Mr. Patterson will be doing fine nonetheless. And I do appreciate all he’s doing to contribute to universities and libraries: heaven knows they need that sort of help these days.