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The Prometheus Deception
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The Prometheus Deception

4.1 52
by Robert Ludlum

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After fifteen years as a brilliant master spy, Nick Bryson has disappeared into anonymity as a professor at an exclusive college in western Pennsylvania—until he's suddenly lured back into the game.

Recruited by the CIA, Bryson has been commissioned to track the moves of the Directorate. Once, the ultra-secret intelligence agency was his training ground. Now


After fifteen years as a brilliant master spy, Nick Bryson has disappeared into anonymity as a professor at an exclusive college in western Pennsylvania—until he's suddenly lured back into the game.

Recruited by the CIA, Bryson has been commissioned to track the moves of the Directorate. Once, the ultra-secret intelligence agency was his training ground. Now it's a multinational terrorist conspiracy bent on global domination…

But for Bryson to eliminate the core of corruption means plunging into his own past, investigating the motives of a beautiful stranger who may be his greatest downfall, and infiltrating a secret nexus of power called Prometheus that holds the terrifying clues to his past—and the even more terrifying possibilities of the future...

Editorial Reviews

From the Publisher

“His most ingenious novel yet.” —The New Yorker

“Explosive.” —San Francisco Chronicle

“Reading a Ludlum novel is like watching a James Bond film.” —Entertainment Weekly

“Rarely has any writer of espionage novels come up with such an ambitious design that churns on so many levels.” —Chicago Tribune

“A spy thriller that should keep even the most experienced readers guessing...the pace is fast, the action plentiful...a must-read.” —Booklist

“Echoing le Carré and Graham Greene...[Ludlum's] best thriller yet!” —Kirkus Reviews

Publishers Weekly - Publisher's Weekly
Ludlum goes full throttle in this frantically paced, if somewhat hollow, tale of one man's efforts to thwart the forces of world domination. That man is Nick Bryson, a retired operative for the Directorate, the most secretive of the world's many private intelligence agencies. Now working in the peaceful halls of academe, Bryson is stunned when the CIA informs him that the Directorate, to which he pledged his loyalty for nearly 20 years, was actually a Russian front. Worse yet, the organization seems to be stockpiling weapons for a secret assault on the West. When Bryson agrees to help the CIA bring down the Directorate, he's hurled into a series of hair-raising episodes that take him from one world capital to another. With assassins snapping at his heels, Bryson watches in horror as tragedy follows him wherever he goes--an anthrax outbreak in Vienna, a passenger train blown up outside Paris, a jetliner falling from the sky over New York City. Could these terrorist attacks be the work of the Directorate, Bryson wonders, or should they be attributed to the Prometheans, another shadowy intelligence outfit that seems to be the force behind a new international surveillance agency? Catapulting from one action sequence to the next and culminating in a spectacular finale in Seattle, the story is an exciting showcase for all the latest spy gadgetry, but it has little of the contemplative quality and social context of Ludlum's finer efforts. Ludlum's cautionary theme--that technology will soon allow for surveillance on a scale that grossly infringes on personal privacy--gets lost in the barrage of flying bullets and explosions. Bryson himself is a dynamo and lots of fun to watch in action, but his almost superhuman endurance and intelligence seem more suited to that other heroic gentleman of adventure, Clive Cussler's Dirk Pitt, than to a Ludlum hero. Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.|
Library Journal
After 22 novels, Ludlum (The Hades Factor) delivers yet again a topnotch international thriller sure to please fans of popular entertainment. Trust no one. These are the words that Nicholas Bryson, former deep-cover black ops specialist for a shadowy group called the Directorate, must live by when he learns that the covert agency he has served for much of his life, and which has forced him out after a disastrous mission, is not what he had always thought. Instead of being a hero, he learns that he was used as a pawn by forces inimical to the United States. With his life now a massive deception, he is driven by revenge and a need to understand the past into a desperate search for those responsible. But what he discovers is much worse than anything he might have imagined. This is a rousing thriller with all the trademarks of a Ludlum best seller--heart-pounding chase scenes, devastating double-crosses, gut-wrenching twists, fast-paced action, fierce confrontations, pressure that ratchets up to an explosive conclusion, and, as always, authentic international locales, high-tech gadgetry, and sophisticated spycraft. Highly recommended. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 6/15/00.]--Ronnie H. Terpening, Univ. of Arizona, Tucson Copyright 2000 Cahners Business Information.\

Product Details

St. Martin's Press
Publication date:
Edition description:
Premium Edition
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Product dimensions:
4.12(w) x 7.58(h) x 1.09(d)

Read an Excerpt


Carthage, Tunisia
3:32 A.M.

The driving rain was unrelenting, whipped into a frenzy by howling winds, and the waves surged and crashed against the coast, a maelstrom in the black night. In the shallow waters just offshore, a dozen or so dark figures bobbed, clinging to their buoyant, waterproof haversacks like survivors of a shipwreck. The freak storm had caught the men unawares by was good; it provided better cover than they could have hoped for.

From the beach, a pinpoint of red light flashed on and off twice, a signal from the advance team that it was safe to land. Safe! What did that mean? That this particular stretch of Tunisian coastline was left undefended by the Garde Nationale? Nature's assault seemed far more punishing than anything the Tunisian coast guard could attempt.

Tossed and buffeted about by the heaving swells, the men made their way toward the beach, and in one coordinated movement clambered silently onto the sand by the ruins of the ancient Punic ports. Stripping off their black rubber dry suits to reveal dark clothing and blackened faces, they removed their weapons from their haversacks and began distributing their arsenal: Heckler & Koch MP-10 submachine guns, Kalashnikovs, and sniper rifles. Behind them, others now came ashore in waves.

Everything was precisely orchestrated by the man who had trained them so exhaustively, so tirelessly, for the last months. They were Al-Nahda freedom fighters, natives of Tunisia come to free their country from the oppressors. But their leaders were foreigners—skilled terrorists who also shared their faith in Allah, a small, elite cell of freedom fighters drawn from the most radical wing of Hezbollah.

The leader of this cell, and of the fifty or so Tunisians, was the master terrorist known only as Abu. Occasionally his full nom de guerre was used: Abu Intiquab. The father of revenge.

Elusive, secretive, and ferocious, Abu had trained the Al-Nadha fighters at the Libyan camp outside of Zuwarah. He refined their strategy on a full-scale model of the presidential palace and instructed them in tactics both more violent and more devious than anything they were used to.

Barely thirty hours ago, at the port of Zuwarah, the men had boarded a five-thousand-ton, Russian-built break-bulk freighter, a cargo ship that normally hauled Tunisian textiles and Libyan manufactured goods between Tripoli and Bizerte in Tunisia. The powerful old freighter, now battered and decrepit, had traveled north-northwest along the Tunisian coast, past the port cities of Sfax and Sousse, then swung around Cap Bon and entered the Golfe de Tunis, just past the naval base at La Goulette. Alerted to the schedule of the coast guard patrol boats, the men had dropped anchor five miles from the Carthage coast and swiftly launched their rigid-hulled inflatables, equipped with powerful outboard motors. Within minutes, they had entered the turbulent waters of Carthage, the ancient Phoenician city so powerful in the fifth century B.C. that it was considered Rome's great rival. If anyone in the Tunisian coast guard happened to be monitoring the ship on radar, he would see only a freighter pausing momentarily, then heading on toward Bizerte.

On the shore, the man who had flashed the red signal was hissing orders and cursing in a low voice with unquestioned authority. He was a bearded man in a military-issue rain anorak worn over a keffiyeh. Abu.

"Quiet! Keep it down! What do you want, to bring out the whole godforsaken Tunisian Garde? Quickly, now. Let's move it, move it! Clumsy fools! Your leader rots in jail while you dawdle! The trucks are waiting!"

Next to him stood a man wearing night-vision goggles and silently scanning the terrain. The Tunisians knew him only as the Technician. One of Hezbollah's top munitions experts, he was a handsome, olive-skinned man with heavy brows and flashing brown eyes. As little as the men knew about Abu, they knew even less about the Technician, Abu's trusted advisor. According to rumor, he was born to wealthy Syrian parents and raised in Damascus and London, where he was schooled in the intricacies of arms and explosives.

Finally the Technician spoke, quietly and calmly. He pulled his black, hooded waterproof garment tight against the torrential rain.

"I hesitate to say it, my brother, but the operation is going smoothly. The trucks loaded with matériel were concealed just as we had arranged and the soldiers encountered no resistance on the short drive along the Avenue Habib Borguiga. Now we have just received the radio signal from the first men—they have reached the presidential palace. The coup d'etat has begun." As he spoke he consulted his wristwatch.

Abu nodded imperiously. He was a man who expected nothing less than success. A distant series of explosions told Abu and his adviser that the battle was underway. The presidential palace would be seized imminently, and in a matter of hours, the Islamic militants would control Tunis. "Let us not congratulate ourselves prematurely," Abu said in a low, tense voice. The rain was letting up now, and in a moment the storm passed just as suddenly as it had appeared.

Suddenly the silence on the beach was shattered by voices shouting at them in strident, high-pitched Arabic. Dark figures raced across the sand. Abu and the Technician tensed and reached for their weapons, but then saw it was their Hezbollah brethren.

"A zero-one!"

"An ambush!"

"My God! Mighty Allah, they're surrounded!"

Four Arab men approached, looking frightened and out of breath. "A zero-one distress signal," panted the one carrying a PRC-117 field radio on his back. "They were able to transmit only that they were surrounded by the security forces at the palace and taken captive. Then the transmission was killed! They say they were set up!"

Abu turned to his adviser in alarm. "How can this be?"

The youngest of the four young men who stood before them said, "The materiel left for the men—the antitank weapons, the ammunition, the C-4—all of it was defective! Nothing worked! And the government forces were lying in wait for them! Our men were set up from the beginning!"

Abu looked visibly pained, his customary serenity vanished. He beckoned his number-one adviser. "Ya sahbee, I need your wise counsel."

The technician adjusted his wristwatch as he came close to the master terrorist. Abu put one arm around his adviser's shoulders. He spoke in a low, calm voice. "There must be a traitor in our ranks, an infiltrator. Our plans were leaked."

Abu made a subtle, almost undetectable gesture with a finger and thumb. It was a cue, and his followers immediately grabbed the Technician by the arms, legs, and shoulders. The Technician struggled mightily, but he was no match for the trained terrorists who held him. Swiftly, Abu's right hand shot out. There was a flash of metal and Abu plunged a serrated, hooked knife into the Technician's abdomen, yanking the blade down and then out to inflict the maximum damage. Abu's eyes were blazing. "The traitor is you!" he spat out.

The Technician gasped. The pain was obviously excruciating, but his face remained a stolid mask. "No, Abu!" he protested.

"Pig!" spat Abu, lunging at him again, his serrated knife aimed at the Technician's groin. "No one else knew the timing, the exact plans! No one! And you were the one who certified the materiel. It can be no one else."

Suddenly the beach was flooded with blindingly bright carbon-arc light. Abu turned and realized that they were surrounded and vastly outnumbered by dozens upon dozens of soldiers in khaki uniforms. The Groupement de Commando of the Tunisian Garde Nationale, machine guns pointed, had abruptly appeared from over the horizon; a thundering racket from above announced the arrival of several attack helicopters.

Bursts of automatic gunfire hit Abu's men, turning them into jerking marionettes. Their bloodcurdling screams were abruptly silenced, and their bodies toppled to the ground in strange and awkward positions. Another burst of gunfire, and then it stopped. The unexpected silence that followed was eerie. Only the master terrorist and his munitions specialist had not been fired upon.

But Abu seemed to have only one focus of attention, and he spun back around to the man he had branded a traitor, positioning his scimitar-shaped blade for another attack. Badly wounded, the Technician tried to ward off his assailant, but instead began to sink to the ground. The loss of blood was too great. Just as Abu lunged forward to finish him off, powerful hands grabbed the bearded Hezbollah leader from behind, slamming him down and pinning him to the sand.

Abu's eyes burned with defiance as the two were taken into custody by the government soldiers. He did not fear any government. Governments were cowards, he had often said; governments would release him under some pretext of international law and extradition and repatriation. Deals would be struck behind the scenes, and Abu would be quietly released, his presence in the country a carefully kept secret. No government wanted to bring on itself the full fury of a Hezbollah terror campaign.

The terrorist master did not struggle, but instead caused his body to go slack, forcing the soldiers to drag him away. As he was dragged past the Technician, he spat full in his face and hissed, "You are not long for this world, traitor! Pig! You will die for your treachery!"

Once Abu was taken away, the several men who had grabbed the Technician gently released him, easing him down onto a waiting stretcher. Obeying the instructions of the battalion captain, they backed away as the captain approached. The Tunisian knelt beside the Technician and examined his wound. The Technician winced but uttered not a sound.

"My God, it's a wonder you're still conscious!" said the captain in heavily accented English. "You have been badly injured. You have lost a great deal of blood."

The man who had been known as the Technician replied, "If your men had responded to my signal a little more speedily, this wouldn't have happened." He instinctively touched his wristwatch, which was equipped with a miniaturized high-frequency transmitter.

The captain ignored the barb. "That SA-341 up there," he said, pointing up to the sky, where a helicopter hovered, "will take you to a high-security government medical facility in Morocco. I'm not permitted to know your real identity, nor who your real employers are, so I won't ask," the Tunisian began, "but I think I have a good idea-"

Just then the Technician whispered harshly, "Get down!" He quickly pulled a semiautomatic pistol from the holster concealed under his arms and fired off five quick shots. There was a cry from a copse of palm trees, and a dead man toppled to the ground, his sniper rifle clutched in his hand. Somehow an Al-Nahda soldier had escaped the massacre.

"Mighty Allah!" exclaimed the frightened captain of the battalion as he slowly raised his head and looked around. "I think we're even now, you and I."

"Listen," the Arab-who-was-not-an-arab said weakly, "tell your president his minister of the interior is a secret Al-Nahda sympathizer and collaborator who conspires to take his place. He's in league with the deputy minister of defense. There are others...."

But the loss of blood had been too great. Before the Technician could finish his sentence, he passed out.

Meet the Author

Robert Ludlum is the author of twenty-two novels published in thirty-two languages and forty countries. Read by hundreds of millions world-wide, his books include The Scarlatti Inheritance, The Chancellor Manuscript, The Acquitaine Progression, The Icarus Agenda, and The Bourne Identity. He divides his time between homes in Florida and Montana.

Brief Biography

Date of Birth:
May 25, 1927
Date of Death:
March 12, 2001
Place of Death:
Naples, Florida
B.A., Wesleyan University, 1951

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The Prometheus Deception 4.3 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 50 reviews.
adder31 More than 1 year ago
The plot was decent, very Ludlum-esque. Characters were not developed well and the ending was anticlimactic. Disappointing wnen compared to his earlier works such as parsifal mosaic, gemini contenders and bourne idenity. A marginal read for Ludlum fans.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
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Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Im 21 black hair green eyea i have a little bro by the name of Axios im a guy obviously im a butler and i have a secret that i cant tell only my brother knows about it
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name: Yin. Simple. <br> Gender: &female (Female) <br> Age: Very very old...Though that doesn't affect her appearance. She looks about 17... <br> Appearance: 5'7, extremely pale skin with very little color, white eyes, (No, she isn't blind. And far from it.) She has rib-length straight black hair with symmetrical(?) bangs, not the skinniest person, but a decent weight, thin eyebrows, strong chin, long nose.... <br> Attire: A sleevless very long dress that's so black it's hard to tell exactly what you're looking at. Due to this, it's hard to describe. And on fancier occasions, she wears an ebony circlet that has a single black crystal dropping onto her forehead.... <br> Persona: Considering she hosts the spirit of Yin, she can be very negative, sarcastic, anti-social, and cruel. Though in truth, all she wants is a group of trustworthy friends. She's very protective, and tries not to let emotions get in the way. <br> Powers: She can manipulate emotions, (Though she rarely does.) And control negative energy. <br> History: She won't say. She knows, but she won't tell. <br> Weapon(s): Her powers. She mainly uses strong blasts. <br> Her Goal In Life: Keep Yang alive at all costs. <br> Social Status: Single. She finds most people disgusting. Plus if she ever were to go that far, (very unlikely) her vows would prevent her from doing such a thing. <br> Anthem: 'Abraham's Daughter' by Arcade Fire. <br> Siggy: &#19996 Yin <p> Name: Yang <br> Gender: Male <br> Age: Same as Yin. Looks about the same age, too. <br> Appearance: Similar features to Yin, same nose, same chin, same eyebrows. The similarities stop there, though. He has white hair. Like, paper-white. Pale skin, black eyes, not muscular, 5'9, his mouth naturallly tilts upward, giving him a very friendly appearance. <br> Attire: A white T-Shirt, and over that, a white military-like coat. Black jeans, and sneakers. Oftentimes a white top hat, as well. <br> Persona: Positive, cheerful, immature, child-like, not extremely intelligent..... <br> Powers: He can fiddle with memories, and control positive energy. <br> History: He remembers very little... <br> Weapon(s): His powers. <br> His Goal In Life: None, currently... <br> Social Status: Similar to Yin's.... <br> Anthem: 'Dog Days Are Over' by Florence + The Machine. <br> Siggy; &#20006 Yang. <br> Other: Both Yin and Yang are connected. If one gets damaged, the other one will feel the pain. The Spirit of Yang hosts Yang. Yin's powers weaken during the day. Yang's powers weaken at night....
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name: Look up ya lazy <p> Gender: Male (AKA-Bro) <p> Age: 18 <p> Looks: Really dark brown spicky hair. He has a tough straight bod. About 6'5. Wears usually dark clothing and skinny jeans. And he has a 6 foot wing span of jet black angel wings. <p> Abnormal Ability: He was geneticly inhanced with bird DNA (he has giant angel wings). And he has a new ability to read minds, so he pretty much sucks at it. <p> History: Coal was born and raised in a sercret British lab, intil he exscaped, when he was 16, and was on the loose (most people would call him the death angel on the news). Now he takes place here. <p> Likes: Learning, flying, and being a couch potatoe. <p> Dislikes: (weakspot) thisty girls :P
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name: Evelyn Marie <br> Nickname: Eve, or Evie; but only Adam can call her Evie! <br> Age: 16 <br> Gender: -_- <br> Human Looks: she has pale skin, and long bright ginger hair. Her eyes are luminous green cat eyes and freckles are sprinkled across the bridge o her nose. She has a long fluffy ginger tail and pointy ginger cat ears; each tipped with white, and large sharp teeth. <br> Species: Witch/Shapeshifter- mostly cats, or cat-like creatures(foxes, lions, tigers, etc.) <br> Animal Looks: red fur, with white eat tips, tail-tips, and paws/feet. <br> Persona: Nice, sometimes shy, and SUPER BUBBLY;D <br> Sexual Orientation: straight <br> Bf: N/A <br> Height/Weight: 4'11"/100lbs. <br> Outfits: will update her OOTD daily(OOTD- Outfit Of The Day) <br> Family: Adam Joseph(brother) <br> Theme Song: Ballad of Mona Lisa - Panic At The Disco! <p> Name: Adam Joseph <br> Age: 17 <br> Gender: >_< <br> Human Looks: he has short black hair and deep amber wolf eyes. He's got broad shoulders, and a 6 pack.(thank god for the swim team!) He has a pure black wolf tail, and pointy black wolf ears. His canines are sharp and pointed. <br> Species: Wizard/Shapeshifter- mostly wolves, or wolf-like creatures(dogs, foxes, coyotes, etc.) <br> Animal Looks: pure black fur, with piercing Amber eyes. <br> Persona: he is calm, cool, and collected. He has "swagger", and is VERY protective of Eve. <br> Sexual Orientation: Bi-Sexual <br> Bf/Gf: N/A <br> Height: 6'2" <br> Outfits: look at Eve's <br> Family: Evelyn Marie(sister) <br> Theme Song: I'm Weird - Ghost Town
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name: Zero, or M <p> Age: Her age is infinite, she simply appeared rather than being born <p> Gender: *face-scythes* <p> Species: Poke-human Glitch <p> Formes: Glitch Forme, Ghost Forme, Fame Forme, Wild Forme, and Lavender Town Forme <p> Glitch Forme: M seems transparent and pixellated, with long, wavy light grey hair with streaks of darker shades of grey here and there. Her skin is pale, with lines over it like on a computer screen. Her eyes are completely black. She wears a black sweater, a light grey skirt with a pixel pattern on it, and black tights. She doesn't have any shoes. <p> Ghost Forme: Zero is still pale, with black hair that undulates and floats by itself and has a purple aura. Her eyes are white and slightly narrowed, and her clothes consist of a flowy purple dress with a shiny black netting dress over it. She wears the same black tights and still no shoes. <p> Fame Forme: M can look like any Pokemon gijinka in this forme but jumbled up and parts of her body are replaced by random pixels. <p> Wild Forme: Zero has hair that is long and straight, and is either red, yellow, or blue depending on the type she will be using. She wears a t-shirt of the color of her hair, and black jeans. Her eyes are grey. <p> Lavender Town Forme: Zero is pale, with short, choppy silver hair and brown eyes. She wears a white dress with black markings like a broken glass. She also wears black knee-socks and wields two small scythes made of bones. <p> Glitch Forme Powers: Can glitch any electronic device. <p> Ghost Forme Powers: Can manipulate fear. <p> Fame Forme Powers: The enemy becomes confused and easier to attack. <p> Wild Forme Powers: With red hair, fire. With yellow, lightning. And blue, water. <p> Lavender Town Forme Powers: Can make enemies sick and uses scythes to attack. <p> Persona: Sly, mysterious, discorded, cute, lovable <p> Likes: Candy, video games, and freaking people out <p> Other: Whoo! I'm finally done!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name: Isis (i-sis) Age:19 Looks: dark blood red spiky hair , Dark blue eyes, pointy ears, long fangs. Personality: calm laid back not desperate respects peoples privacy. But never follows rules and loves adventure great listner. Power: shifts into anything, in light form ar shadow form, can turn into any element, he never does this but can control a body by going inside it in lightform Species:light and shadow shifter NOTE: he cant talk born without a voice but he will find his voice, until thenvhe light rights in the air. ____________________________________________ Name: Oasis (O-way-sis Age :17 Looks: Scarlet Hair red ends Dark violet eyes, ears not as pointy as her brothers. Fangs Personality:not desperate for anything independent never judges, nice dangerois loves danger and thrill. Power: can see into a persons past, shifts into anything either in light form or shadow form. Can revive something or make it die. Species: light and shadow shifter NOTE: dosnt have voice yet she is still looking for it, until then she light writes in the air.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Height-6'7 <p> Looks- a glowing human with 6 tentacles sprouting from his back. <p> Gender-......... male. Personality- get to know him. <p> Updating.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name; Severd Novux III but goes by Sev. <br>Gender; Male <br>Species; Demon Lord, Demon of Corruption. <br>Looks; Black hair that is slicked back, one red eye and one blue eye, grey ram horns, pointed ears, grey tail with a heart shaped tail tip, pointed teeth and wears an all white suit, carries a black septor with a blood red crystal ball at the end that contains his souls he has taken. Sev is tall, 6"5 and has board shoulders. <br>Persona; Sly, mischevious, deviant, secretive, but can be kind and caring. <br>Other; He adopted Mythic. <p>|&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;&bull;| <br>Name; Mythic Alphane Novux. <br>Gender; Female <br>Species; Half Demoness and Half Siren <br>Looks; Long, unrulycrimson red hair with strips of blonde throughout, her hair is a special feature ong with her eyes. Many claim to think Mythic's hair moves without the wind blowing and her eyes are silver in color and heavily lashed. Small, black horns, pointed canine teeth, black tail with a silver underside and dagger tail tip, Mythic is short in stature and quite alluting due to unique appearance. She wears a blaxk and gold snake skin dress with no shoes. <br>Persona; Alluring, creative, musical, whimisical, watchful, sly, and intelligent. <br>Other; She has never been outside the Estate.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
hariseldenAB More than 1 year ago
I purchased this book because it was written by Robert Ludlum. If it was, indeed, written by Mr. Ludlum, it totally lacks the true Ludlum touch. First off, it doesn't begin to read to read like any Ludlum book I ever read. The main character is two dimensional, to say the least. He's a character I can't begin to identify and is way too comic book-esque for my tastes. This super-hero goes from one major wound to the next with no recovery time between act between very contrived action scenes that are almost impossible to believe. I labored through half the pages in this book before I could begin to warm up to Mr. Bryson (out hero). There's way too much introspection by Bryson in a convoluted plot that is so predictable that it induced far too many yawns and drooping eyelids. Along the way, we're regaled by reprises from &quot;The Matarese Circle&quot;, &quot;The Bourne Identity&quot; and a few other books written by Mr. Ludlum. Technical faux pas abound, and there is far too much unnecessary and boring detail about the technology of the day, much of it that either makes no sense or is inserted as what appears to be the author's attempt at showing us how very superior the author is to us ordinary creatures in terms of his technical knowledge. I for one don't particularly care to be educated (sometimes incorrectly) by text that only interrupts the flow of the story at hand while lending no particular excitement to that story. This is not Ludlum at his best. Frankly, I have my doubts that &quot;The Prometheus Deception&quot; is Ludlum at all, except perhaps as an old outline for a book Mr. Ludlum was planning to write. If Robert Ludlum actually did write this book before his unfortunate death in the same year it was published, it is a poor swansong at best.
Fineman More than 1 year ago
This book is the epitome of all stories on international espionage and cloak and dagger thrillers, I have read Nick Carter, James Hadley Chase, Sidney Sheldon, Ian Fleming's James Bond etc etc but this Ludlum book is far above their class. Unfortunately it has no sequel like Jason Bourne series which are coincidently being destroyed by one Eric Lustabader, the spirit of Ludlum will not forgive Lustabader for the rubbish he has made out of a wonderful story, I wonder who assigned him to do that. Anyway I think Nick Bryson and Prometheus Deception deserve a good Hollywood script and a well budgeted film. I wish I had the funds to finance such a project! Please get someone to write a sequel so that Bryson can deal with Ted Waller!
Ricky Stewart More than 1 year ago
This book will keep anyone entertained, without sacrificing good story for action sequences.
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red14 More than 1 year ago
A must read for Ludlum fans! Easily the best book published after the death of the acclaimed author.
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