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Rules of Vengeance (Jonathan Ransom Series #2) [NOOK Book]

Overview

New York Times Bestseller

Months after foiling an international terrorist attack, Doctors Without Borders physician Jonathan Ransom is working under an assumed name in a remote corner of Africa.  His wife, Emma, desperate to escape the wrath of Division, the secret American intelligence agency she betrayed, has been in hiding. Both look forward to sharing a stolen weekend in London—until a terrorist attack ruins their romantic rendezvous....
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Rules of Vengeance (Jonathan Ransom Series #2)

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Overview

New York Times Bestseller

Months after foiling an international terrorist attack, Doctors Without Borders physician Jonathan Ransom is working under an assumed name in a remote corner of Africa.  His wife, Emma, desperate to escape the wrath of Division, the secret American intelligence agency she betrayed, has been in hiding. Both look forward to sharing a stolen weekend in London—until a terrorist attack ruins their romantic rendezvous.  In the aftermath, Emma disappears and Jonathan is apprehended by the police and threatened, unless he helps secure his wife’s capture.  He embarks on a breathless chase across Europe, searching for Emma, and keeping Division at bay . . . until he realizes that all along he’s been a pawn in a high-stakes game of international intrigue far beyond his imagining.

Follow the Rules:
Don't miss Christopher Reich's new thriller, Rules of Betrayal, coming in hardcover in July. The first novel in the series, Rules of Deception, is available now in paperback.


From the Paperback edition.
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  • Christopher Reich
    Christopher Reich  

Editorial Reviews

From Barnes & Noble
Doctors Without Borders physician Jonathan Ransom somehow survived the events described in Christopher Reich's Rules of Deception. Now, working under an assumed name in the remotest part of Africa, he longs for a stolen vacation weekend in London with his wife, who is also living clandestinely. Those rosy thoughts dissolve instantly, however, when Jonathan learns that his beloved Emma has gone missing. Things grow even worse when he is arrested and threatened with life imprisonment unless he helps secure his wife's capture. Faced with those two numbing choices, he makes a desperate, death-defying escape. And that is only the beginning of this accelerated thrill ride….
Publishers Weekly

Near the start of bestseller Reich's stellar sequel to Rules of Deception, Dr. Jonathan Ransom flies from Africa to London for a medical conference. That same day, intermediaries arrange for him to meet his fugitive wife, Emma, once a secret agent with the Pentagon group known as Division, in a cheap hotel. The next day, Jonathan's world is literally and figuratively torn apart after a large car bomb explodes in Westminster, seriously injuring the Russian interior minister. Jonathan is sure Emma is behind the car bombing, but the police, led by Det. Chief Insp. Kate Ford, think Jonathan is responsible. Thus begins a convoluted chase-Jonathan hunting his wife, Kate and the cops along with MI5 agent Colonel Graves tracking Jonathan. Everyone, including the reader, remains clueless, except for master spy Emma, as to who is really the guilty party. A blinding twist at the end adds a spectacular fillip to a masterful performance by one of the genre's elite. (Aug.)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Kirkus Reviews
The secret-agent wife a Doctors Without Borders physician thought had been killed at the beginning of Rules of Deception (2008) is still alive enough to make big trouble for him and the rest of the world. Dr. Jonathan Ransom, who's left Africa to address a conference in London, is conveniently on hand when Lord Robert Russell is murdered in his Mayfair penthouse by a wraithlike intruder, available to meet his wife Emma when she unexpectedly pops up in town, and right on the scene when she detonates a bomb directed at a motorcade passing through Storey's Gate. Wounded Russian Interior Minister Igor Ivanov tells DCI Kate Ford and Colonel Charles Graves of MI5 that he was the intended target, but they're more concerned with catching the bomber. Emma, a veteran agent of Division, the U.S. Department of Defense agency that "ran the blackest of black ops," has of course vamoosed, leaving her husband to hold the bag, and in short order the Metropolitan Police oblige by arresting him. Fans of Reich's greased-lightning thrillers, however, won't expect Jonathan to be charged and jailed. Instead, they'll wait, like him, for the moment when he can overpower his captors and make his escape to the continent, across which the authorities chase him as avidly as he's chasing Emma, who's evidently determined to blow up a nuclear reactor. Just to keep things interesting, Reich also throws in a couple of wild cards: Frank Connor, ambitious new acting director of Division, whose agenda may not be exactly the same as Emma's, and Ivanov's rival Sergei Shvets, the even more megalomaniacal head of Russia's Federal Security Service. Will Europe end with a bang? Will brilliant, clueless Jonathan enjoy a tearfulreunion with the wife who keeps bamboozling him? Will he at least be able to clear himself of criminal charges? And what about the sequel?Like 007's obsession with Blofeld, Jonathan's hyperinflated connubial problems seem intended to turn international terrorism into good, clean human-scale fun.
From the Publisher
Advance rave for Rules of Vengeance by Christopher Reich

Near the start of bestseller Reich's stellar sequel to Rules of Deception, Dr. Jonathan Ransom flies from Africa to London for a medical conference. That same day, intermediaries arrange for him to meet his fugitive wife, Emma, once a secret agent with the Pentagon group known as Division, in a cheap hotel. The next day, Jonathan's world is literally and figuratively torn apart after a large car bomb explodes in Westminster, seriously injuring the Russian interior minister. Jonathan is sure Emma is behind the car bombing, but the police, led by Det. Chief Insp. Kate Ford, think Jonathan is responsible. Thus begins a convoluted chase–Jonathan hunting his wife, Kate and the cops along with MI5 agent Colonel Graves tracking Jonathan. Everyone, including the reader, remains clueless, except for master spy Emma, as to who is really the guilty party. A blinding twist at the end adds a spectacular fillip to a masterful performance by one of the genre's elite.
Publishers Weekly (starred)

Exceptional Praise for Rules of Deception by Christopher Reich

Rules of Deception is an intense, impossible-to-put down spy novel—like Robert Ludlum at his very best."
—Vince Flynn

"Rules of Deception packs a wallop. Christopher Reich is at the top of his game."
—David Baldacci

“Christopher Reich is one of my favorite suspense writers, and he’s outdone himself this time.”
—James Patterson

Rules of Deception delivers pure suspense, intrigue, and adventure from its first page to its last. Christopher Reich is the master of the espionage thriller for the twenty-first century.”
—Clive Cussler

“A globe-trotting, bomb-ticking, loyalty-blurring thriller.” —People

Rules of Deception develops an entertainingly serpentine complexity . . . And his finale lives up to the level of suspense he has created.” —New York Times

“Un-put-downable . . . This first-class adrenalin fest will leave readers guessing until the last page.” —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780385530309
  • Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 8/4/2009
  • Series: Jonathan Ransom Series , #2
  • Sold by: Random House
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 320
  • Sales rank: 58,702
  • File size: 3 MB

Meet the Author

Christopher Reich
CHRISTOPHER REICH is the New York Times bestselling author of Rules of Deception, Numbered Account, and The Patriots Club, which won the International Thiller Writers award for best novel in 2006. He lives in California with his family.


From the Paperback edition.
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Read an Excerpt

1

The most expensive real estate in the world is located in the district of Mayfair in central London. Barely two square miles, Mayfair is bordered by Hyde Park to the west and Green Park to the south. Claridge's Hotel, the world headquarters of Royal Dutch Shell, and the summer residence of the sultan of Brunei are within walking distance of one another. In between can be found many of the world's best-known luxury boutiques, London's only three-star restaurant (as awarded by the Guide Michelin), and a handful of art galleries catering to those with unlimited bank accounts. Yet even within this enclave of wealth and privilege, one address stands above the rest.

1 Park Lane, or "One Park" as it's commonly known, is a luxury residential high-rise located at the southeast corner of Hyde Park. It began life one hundred years ago as a modest ten-story hotel and over time has served as a bank, a car dealership, and, it is rumored, a high-class brothel for visiting Middle Eastern dignitaries. As real estate values began to spiral upward, so did the building's aspirations.

Today, One Park stands some twenty stories tall and is home to nineteen private residences. Each occupies an entire floor, not counting the penthouse, which is a duplex. Prices start at five thousand pounds, or a breath under eight thousand dollars, per square foot. The cheapest residence goes for 15 million pounds; the penthouse, four times that, 60 million pounds, or nearly 90 million dollars. Owners include a former British prime minister, an American hedge-fund manager, and the purported leader of the Bulgarian underworld. The joke around the building is who among them is the biggest thief.

With so much wealth gathered beneath one roof, security is a twenty-four-hour concern. At all times, two liveried doormen cover the lobby, a team of three plainclothes officers roams the premises, and two more occupy the control room, where they keep a constant eye on the multiplex of video monitors broadcasting live feeds from the building's forty-four closed-circuit television cameras.

One Park's imposing front doors are made from double-paned bulletproof glass, protected by a steel grate and secured by magnetic lock. The doors' German manufacturer, Siegfried & Stein, guaranteed the lock against a direct hit from a rocket-propelled grenade. The front doors might be blown clear off their hinges and across the spacious marble lobby, but by God and Bismarck, they will remain locked. Visitors are granted entry only after their faces have been scrutinized via closed-circuit television and their identity confirmed by a resident.

For all intents and purposes, One Park is impregnable.

Getting in was the easy part.

The trespasser, operational designation "Alpha," stood inside the master bedroom closet of residence 5A of 1 Park Lane. Alpha was familiar with the apartment's security system. Prior reconnaissance had revealed the presence of pressure pads beneath the carpet alongside the windows in every room and at the front entry, but none in the closet. There were other, more sophisticated measures, but they, too, could be defeated.

The intruder crossed to the door and flipped the light switch. The closet was palatial. A shoe rack stood against the far wall, and next to it a rolled-up flag of St. George and two Holland & Holland shotguns. The owner's clothing hung along one wall. There was no women's clothing to be seen. The residence belonged to a bachelor.

To the left were stacks of yellowing periodicals, bound newspapers, and manila files, the meticulously accumulated bric-a-brac of a dedicated scholar. To the right stood a mahogany dresser with several photographs in sterling frames. One showed a fit, sandy-haired man in hunting attire, shotgun under one arm, in conversation with a similarly sporty Queen Elizabeth II. The trespasser recognized the owner of the apartment. He was Lord Robert Russell, only son of the duke of Suffolk, England's richest peer, with a fortune estimated at five billion pounds.

Alpha had not come to steal Russell's money, but for something infinitely more valuable.

Kneeling, the intruder removed a slim packet from a work bag. A thumbnail punctured its plastic wrapping. Alpha deftly unfolded a foil-colored jumpsuit and stepped into it. Care was taken to ensure that the suit covered every square inch of exposed skin. A hood descended low over the brow and rose over the jaw to mask the nose and mouth. The jumpsuit was made from Mylar, a material often used for survival blankets. The suit had been designed for one purpose and one purpose only: to prevent the escape of the body's ambient heat.

Satisfied that the Mylar suit was in place, the intruder removed a pair of telescopic night-vision goggles and affixed them comfortably, again working to cover as much skin as possible. A pair of gloves came last.

Alpha cracked open the closet door. The master bedroom was cloaked in darkness. A scan of the area revealed a motion detector attached to the ceiling near the door. The size of a pack of cigarettes, the motion detector emitted passive infrared beams capable of detecting minute oscillations in room temperature caused by the passage of human bodies through a protected space. The alarm's sensitivity could be calibrated to allow a cat or a small dog free rein of the premises without triggering the alarm, but Robert Russell did not own a house pet. Moreover, he was cautious by nature and paranoid by dint of his profession. He knew full well that his recent work had made him unpopular in certain circles. He also knew that if the past were to be taken as an indication, his life was in danger. The sensors would be set to detect the faintest sign of an intruder.

Even with the thermal suit, it was not yet safe to enter the room. Robert Russell had equipped his flat with a double-redundant security system. The motion detector constituted one measure. The other was a microwave transmitter that relied on the concept of Doppler radar to bounce sound waves off the walls. Any disturbance in the sound waves' pattern would activate the alarm.

A survey of the bedroom failed to locate the transmitter.

Just then a voice sounded in Alpha's earpiece. "He's leaving the target. You have eight minutes."

"Check."

Stepping out of the closet, Alpha moved swiftly to the bedroom door. No alarm sounded. No air horn. No bell. There was no microwave transmitter in the room. The bedroom door stood ajar, granting a clear view down a hallway and into the living area. Gloved fingers increased the night-vision goggles' magnification fourfold. It required fifteen seconds to locate the ruby-red diode high on the foyer wall that signaled the location of the transmitter. There was no way to disable the diode. The solution lay in tricking it into thinking it was operating normally.

Drawing a miniature target pistol from the jumpsuit, Alpha took careful aim at the diode and fired. The pistol did not shoot a bullet--at least, not in the conventional sense of the word. Instead it launched a subsonic projectile containing a crystalline epoxy compound. Designed to flatten on impact, the epoxy would effectively block the sound waves and reflect them back to the transmitter. Still, for less than a second, the sound waves would be disturbed. The alarm would be triggered.

But there it would end.

The beauty and the arrogance of the double-blind alarm lay in the necessity to trigger both mechanisms at the same time in order to activate the alarm. If the thermal sensor detected a rise in temperature, it would cross-check with the motion detector for a corresponding disruption in the Doppler waves. Similarly, if the Doppler-based motion sensor was disturbed, it would verify with the thermal sensor that there had been an increase in room temperature. If in either case the response was negative, the alarm would not be activated. The redundancy was not installed to make the room safer, but to guard against the possibility of a false alarm. No one had ever considered it possible to defeat both systems at the same time.

The projectile hit its target dead on. The ruby-red diode vanished. The room was clear.

Alpha checked the time. Six minutes, thirty seconds.

Inside the living room, it was necessary to fold back the carpet from the walls. The pressure pads were located as noted on the schematics. One was placed in front of each of the floor-to-ceiling windows looking over Hyde Park, and the third in front of the sliding glass door that led to the balcony. Each required one minute to disable. There was another near the front door, but Alpha didn't bother with it. The entry and escape routes were the same.

Four minutes.

Free to roam the apartment, the intruder made a beeline for Russell's study. Alpha had been inside the apartment before and had made a point of memorizing its layout. A sleek stainless steel desk occupied the center of the room. On it were three LCD monitors arrayed side by side. A far larger screen, some ninety-six inches across, hung from the wall directly opposite him.

Alpha directed a halogen beam beneath the desk. The computer's central processing unit sat on the floor at the rear of the foot well. There was no time to copy its contents, only to destroy it. Alpha slipped a handheld electronic device from the work bag and swiped it several times over Russell's CPU. The device delivered an immensely powerful electromagnetic pulse, obliterating all data.

Unfortunately, the information was also stored in a more permanent location: Robert Russell's estimable brain.

"He's pulling into the garage," announced the voice in the earpiece.

The time was 2:18 a.m. "Everything's a go," said Alpha. "Get lost."

"See you back at the fort."

On the desk was a web tablet, an all-in-one touch screen that controlled the apartment's automatic functions. With a touch Russell could turn on the television, open or close the curtains, or adjust the temperature. There was another, more interesting feature. If one hit the security button, the screen divided itself into quarters, each showing the view from one of the building's closed-circuit cameras. The top left quadrant showed Robert Russell leaving his car, an Aston Martin DB12. Russell appeared entering the basement foyer a moment later. A few seconds passed and he entered the bottom left quadrant, this time inside the elevator. At thirty, he was tall and lean, with a full head of tousled white-blond hair that drew looks wherever he went. He wore jeans, an open shirt, and a blazer. Somewhere in the past, he'd earned a black belt in Brazilian jujitsu. He was a dangerous man in every respect.

He stepped out of the elevator, and a moment later appeared in the final screen, standing inside his private alcove and pressing his pass key and thumb to the biometric lock.

Alpha walked into the kitchen and opened the freezer. On the top shelf were two bottles of vodka sheathed in ice rings. "áZubr—wka," read the labels. Polish vodka made from bison grass. The vodka tasted like warm velvet.

The tumblers to the front door slid back. Robert Russell's heels clicked on the marble floor. The trespasser took off the balaclava, unzipped the jumpsuit, and waited. The disguise was no longer needed. It was essential that Russell not be frightened. His keychain held a panic button that activated the alarm.

Russell walked into the kitchen. "Jesus, you scared the hell out of me," he exclaimed.

"Hello, Robbie. Care for a drink?"

Russell's smile faded rapidly as the facts arranged themselves in his razor-sharp mind. "Actually, just how the hell did you get in here?"

He had barely finished the words when the trespasser, operational designation Alpha, brought the bottle of vodka and its ice sheath down on his skull. Russell collapsed to all fours, the keychain skittering across the floor. The blow left him stunned but not unconscious. Before he could call out, Alpha straddled him, grasped his jaw in one hand, his hair in the other, and wrenched his head violently to the left.

Russell's neck snapped like a rotted branch. He fell limp to the floor.

It took all of Alpha's strength to drag the body across the living room and onto the balcony. Alpha flung his arms over the railing, then grasped Russell's legs, hefted the dead weight, and rolled the body over.

She did not wait to see Lord Robert Henley Russell strike the granite stairs 35 meters below.


2

Kenya Airways Flight 99 inbound from Nairobi touched down at London Heathrow Airport at 0611 British Summer Time. The manifest listed 280 passengers and 16 crew aboard the Airbus A340. In fact, the number was well over 300, with a dozen infants piled on their mothers' laps and a handful of standbys clambering into the fold-down seats meant for flight attendants.

Seated in row 43, Jonathan Ransom checked his watch and shifted uneasily. Flight time had clocked in at exactly nine hours--thirty minutes faster than scheduled. Most passengers were delighted by the early arrival. It meant beating morning rush hour into the city or gaining a head start on the day's sightseeing. Jonathan was not among them. All week departures out of Jomo Kenyatta International Airport had suffered lengthy delays because of an ongoing strike by local air traffic _controllers. The previous day's flight had arrived in London six hours late. The day before that, it had been canceled altogether. Yet his flight had arrived not only on time, but ahead of schedule. He wasn't sure whether it was luck or something else. Something he didn't want to put a name to.

I shouldn't have come, he told himself. I was safe where I was. I should have played it smart and stayed out of sight.

But Jonathan had never ducked a responsibility and he wasn't about to start now. Besides, deep down he knew that if they wanted to find him, there was no place too far away, no spot on the globe too remote where he might hide.

Jonathan Ransom stood a few inches over six feet. Dressed in jeans, chambray shirt, and desert boots, he looked lean and fit. His face was deeply tanned from months of working beneath the equatorial sun. The same sun had chapped his lips and left his nose freckled with pink. His hair was shorn to a soldier's stubble and cut through with gray. His nose was strong and well shaped, and served to focus attention on his dark eyes. With his two-day beard, he could be Italian or Greek. A bolder guess might place him as a South American of European descent. He was none of these. He was American, born in Annapolis, Maryland, thirty-eight years earlier to a distinguished southern family. Even in the narrow seat, he appeared to control his space instead of allowing it to control him.

To channel his nerves, Jonathan gathered up the varied journals, articles, and reviews he'd brought to prepare for the medical congress and tucked them into his satchel. Most had names like "Diagnosis and Prevention of Tropical Infection" or "Hepatitis C in Sub-Saharan Africa: A Clinical Study" and had been written by distinguished physicians at distinguished universities. The last was printed on simple copier paper and carried his own name beneath the title. "Treatment of Parasitic Diseases in Pediatric Patients," by Dr. Jonathan Ransom, MD. FACS. Doctors Without Borders. Instead of a hospital, he listed his current place of work: United Nations Refugee Camp 18, Lake Turkana, Kenya.

For eight years Jonathan had worked for Doctors Without Borders, the humanitarian relief organization dedicated to bringing medical care to areas of acute crisis. He'd taken his skills to Liberia and Darfur, to Kosovo and Iraq, and to a dozen places in between. And for these last six months he'd served as principal physician at the Turkana camp, on the border of Ethiopia and Kenya. The camp's current population numbered upward of one hundred thousand persons. Most had come from the horn of Africa, displaced families fleeing war-ravaged regions in Somalia and Ethiopia. As one of only six physicians at the camp, and the only board-certified surgeon, he spent his time caring for everything from broken ankles to bullet wounds. But this year his crowning glory lay in another department. He'd delivered a hundred babies in 140 days without losing a single one.

At some point along the way, he'd become an expert on parasitic diseases. With the world community paying increasing attention to the problems of disease and poverty in developing nations, doctors with experience "on the front lines" were suddenly in vogue. Early in the spring, he'd received the invitation from the International Association of Internists (IAI) to deliver a paper on the subject at its annual congress. Jonathan did not enjoy public speaking, but he'd accepted all the same. The subject merited wider recognition, and the opportunity to address such an influential body didn't come along often. It was an obligation he couldn't shun. The IAI had paid his fare, booked the flight, and arranged his accommodation. For a few days he'd have a real bed to sleep on, with clean sheets and a firm mattress. He smiled. At the moment, the prospect sounded inviting.

It was then that Jonathan saw the police escorts and his heart did whatever it did when you couldn't catch a breath and you felt paralyzed from the neck down.

Two blue-and-white Rovers belonging to the British Airport Authority drove alongside the aircraft, their strobes lit and spinning. In short order, two more vehicles joined their rank. Jonathan pressed his back against the seat. He'd seen enough.

Emma, he called silently, his heart roaring to life. They've come for me.

From the Hardcover edition.

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Interviews & Essays

Rules Teaser

It all starts with an idea. And the idea for the Rules series, (Rules of Deception, Rules of Vengeance, and this summer, Rules of Betrayal) came from General Tommy Franks. Yes, that Tommy Franks, the brilliant and charismatic military commander who led American and Coalition Forces to victory in Afghanistan and Iraq. A few years back I wrote a television pilot called "The Diplomat," and it turned out that the show's producers had a colleague who was interested in consulting on the show. Enter General Franks.

During the course of our discussions, General Franks repeatedly referred to a class of soldiers he called his "operators." These operators came from different branches of the service - Rangers, Green Berets, SEALs - and were tasked with missions that could only be termed "impossible." We're talking behind enemy lines, no back up, completely on your own for extended periods of time. Beyond secret. Missions that never took place on or off the record. Even when they were in the States, these operators were not allowed to talk about who they worked for or what they did. These individuals were the best of the best. Fit, tough, calm under pressure, and very, very smart. The more General Franks talked about them, the more I wanted to write about someone who fit this demanding profile. And not for the television show, but for a novel!

Immediately, the creative side of my mind went into overtime. I asked myself what if it weren't a man who did this for a living, but a woman. And what if you were married to her? Would you know what she did for a living? How in the world would it be possible for her to keep her profession a secret? It would be pretty difficult to keep things under wraps unless she was married to the right type of man. A man whose own work took him to the world's political hot spots. A man comfortable living under trying circumstances in far away places. A man who felt at ease when his own life was in jeopardy. In short, a man that was almost her equal.

He'd be a doctor and he'd work for Doctors Without Borders.

The idea was growing very quickly now. Not one novel, but a series…

And so Jonathan and Emma Ransom were born. He's a doc, she's a spy, or as General Franks would say, "an operator." Sure they're fictional characters, but I'm pretty convinced that somewhere out there in this big, bad world, there are a man and woman just like them.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 3.5
( 94 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(29)

4 Star

(31)

3 Star

(21)

2 Star

(4)

1 Star

(9)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 94 Customer Reviews
  • Posted August 11, 2009

    an incredible thrill ride

    Christopher Reich's newest book, Rules of Vengeance, is the follow up to his book, Rules of Deception. Yet, while it is recommended that you read the latter book first, it isn't necessary -- as each book can be read as a stand alone.

    The book features a very intricate plot: The wife of Dr. Ransom has been missing, and the woman that is standing in her place (fooling everyone by claiming to be Emma) has been revealed as an international secret agent. Only from the mind of Christopher Reich can a plot like this be constructed.

    Anyway. While attending a medical convention in London, a group of foreign diplomats in killed in a car explosion, and someone points the finger at, Dr. Ransom, claiming he is the culprit responsible for the explosion. How is this possible?

    The book starts out strong and ends even stronger. This is a thrill ride that buckles the reader in and refuses to let go until the final page. That is always what I look for in a great book. And what I always get from, Christopher Reich. Another book I would highly recommend is Clarence Cage's novel Ashes Divide: another incredible thrill ride that won't let the reader go.

    6 out of 7 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted August 15, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    I Also Recommend:

    Reich is back with another Fantastic read

    Reich is quickly becoming one of my favorite authors. This book does not disappoint. It is full of the rich plot and character development that we come to expect from him.

    2 out of 3 people found this review helpful.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted July 16, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Doctor Becomes Jason Bourne

    This one is tough to rate. It is an action packed story that grabs you at the beginning and holds you throughout and that was what caused me to give it just barely four stars. What bothered me though is there are several escapes that occur reminicent of Harold and Kumar getting out of Guatanamo Bay. Also, the main character Jonathan Ransom is a doctor not trained as a spy yet he all of a sudden becomes almost Jason Bourne like, eluding capture and tracking down bad guys that the British police and secret service can't.

    Jonathan Ransom is invited to speak at a medical convention in London. Once there he is contacted by his wife (Emma) through intermediaries and he goes to meet her. Emma (not her real name) is up to something shady and appears responsible for the murder of a billionaire researcher (he was a billionaire through inheritance). She tells Jonathan that she is seeing him for the last time because she cannot resist him. Then she has to go back to her secret organization and disappear because the government wants her dead.

    Jonathan later tracks her down and is caught in the middle of a politically motivated car bombing. Jonathan is immediately a top suspect. Jonathan knows that Emma was involved and wants to track her down before the government does to both know what she was actually doing and to change her to the side of good.

    The chase is pretty interesting and Jonathan gets captured a few times only to escape and continue the search. The mystery deepens as we see agents of several different agencies from different countries involved in the plot for varying means. The reader is kept guessing as to all the loose ends until the very last page.

    Not a deep book but one to pass the time when you are on the beach.

    2 out of 2 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 18, 2009

    Twist & turns that hold you

    Rules is one of the few books that I could not put down. Chris really knows how to hold your attention and gets you excited to see what is on the next page. He writes in a style that has you visualize exactly what is happening; when you guess what the next step is, you turn the page and find out that you were wrong; Chris always has a better idea. Enjoy it!

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted December 1, 2012

    NO.2

    Good follow up on # 1.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted August 7, 2010

    cATCHY

    KEEPS YOU INTERESTED UNTIL THE END

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  • Posted July 4, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    Did Somebody Ghostwrite This One?

    I enjoyed the first book in this series and looked forward to reading this one. Unfortunately, it was a huge let down. Reich follows the same formula in the prequel - Ransom spends the book running around Europe trying to find his wife; in the process he becomes a fugitive and a murder suspect; he is betrayed by somebody he considers a friend; he helps stop an act of terrorism.

    Plus the ending was simply horrid. The main character is wanted for murder in France and Britain and is in the custody of British authorities on French soil. Then the next thing you read the Epilogue is Ransom is wandering around Afghanistan with no explanation as to how he beat murder charges in two countries or escaped from the authorities. This is not only unbelievable, but unacceptable.

    I've read all of the author's books and have enjoyed everyone of them, except this one. The writing style seemed different and made me wonder if it was written by somebody else, a la' James Patterson. A good part of the book is set in Britain and one would expect the character's to use British idioms. But the author used them throughout the book even when speaking in a non British third party voice, which lead me to speculate about another author writing this novel under Reich's name. Regardless, it simply was not up to his usual standard.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 28, 2009

    Edge of your seat ride.

    Main character is very appealing. Sustains your sympathy and does a good job of making you understand why he does the things he does. Overall very exciting and tense.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 10, 2009

    feels as tho I read it before

    BACKGROUND IS GOOD INFORMATION AND THAT IS THE CONVERSATION.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted September 8, 2009

    I Also Recommend:

    Just Okay

    I was kind of disappointed in this one. I loved Rules of Deception, but this sequel book did not make it for me. I could never come up with a plot. The ending was a surprise, I was not expecting that. I will not give up on Mr Reich as a writer, but hope new books are better.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted September 7, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Vengeance Can Be Dull

    Christopher Reich is known for his tight thrillers and I think that he slipped up on this one. The story line is pretty hard to accept, there are too many coincidences and too many people in the right place at the right time. It just doesn't have that edge that would take it into top thriller contention. Sorry to say, the Ransom relationship is just bogus. There is no way a guy could spend 8 years with a woman and not have a clue as to her darker side. How Dr. Ransom became Jason Bourne has been raised by another reviewer, and it is definitely a weakness for this one.

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Posted August 5, 2009

    Wow! Even better than the last set of RULES!

    I enjoyed Rules of Vengeance even more than Rules of Deception. I was able to comfortably slip into the plot and pick up with the characters where they left off from the last book. This book was even more enjoyable to read because I was prepared for the complexity of the plot and the pacing of the book allowed me to sit down and enjoy a good read over the course of a sunny day at the beach. I am already looking forward to the next one!

    0 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 29, 2010

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    Posted March 14, 2010

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    Posted October 28, 2011

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    Posted September 7, 2010

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    Posted September 16, 2010

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    Posted July 17, 2013

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    Posted May 3, 2011

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    Posted August 30, 2010

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