By Dan Fesperman
The most recent mystery from the writer of The beginner Spy and The Prisoner of Guantánamo (“Worthy of sharing shelf area with the novels of John le Carré and Ken Follett”—USA Today) is as unbelievable as its setting.
Sam Keller has been enlisted through his V.P. for company safeguard and research to secret agent on one other worker whereas they’re touring for the corporate. commonly cautious to a fault, Sam comes to a decision to reside it up. What larger spot for business-class hedonism than boomtown Dubai, the place lodge islands materialize from open ocean, fortunes are made in a single day, and skiers crisscross the snowy slope of a buying mall.
But while Sam’s cost is murdered in the course of an evening in town, it is just the 1st in a chain of bewildering occasions that plunge him waist-deep right into a deadly mixture of mobsters, prostitutes, crooked police officers, consuls, and company avid gamers.
Offering a chancy approach out is Anwar Sharaf, the unlikeliest of detectives. A former pearl diver and gold smuggler with an undignified demeanor, Sharaf is typically as baffled as Sam by means of the alterations to his place of birth, specifically as they're embodied within the habit of his rebelliously independent—and hauntingly beautiful—daughter. yet he is familiar with the place the levers of energy live. because the not likely duo paintings their means towards the center of the case, every one guy needs to confront the darkest forces threatening Dubai from within.
Here is Dan Fesperman’s so much suspenseful novel but: a gorgeous portrait of a urban whose mysterious rhythm (“like the precision throb of a synthetic center, clicking and insistent, but cool to the touch”) is underscored by way of the insistent clashing of previous and new.
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Extra resources for Layover in Dubai
And I failed. " "No, I'm sorry. " "No, I understand. " "You don't need me. You've got good men in Special Circs. Younger and sharper people. " After that, there wasn't much else to say. Riggins nodded to himself, then pressed the END key. Looked down at the empty tumbler, with just two nearly melted fragments of motel ice at the bottom. Funny thing was, he wasn't frightened. Not like he thought he might be. Actually, Riggins was surprised to find he was relieved. He'd been offered a choice: Do something repulsive, or we will kill you.
He didn't want to become part of the awesome display in front of him-the thunderous waves crashing, spewing foam onto the pebbled shore, the hermit crabs scurrying and digging and hiding. He just wanted to watch. Dark took another drink. He always started with beer-nothing stronger. When you've retired in your midthirties, you want to ease into your morning. Besides, the point wasn't ripping straight into oblivion. It was maintaining that line between reality and oblivion. He lived in the salty mist between ocean and shore.
Sure, if you screwed up in Special Circs, your career ended in one of three ways: demotion, dismissal, or death. But death usually came by the hand of the monsters you pursued. Not the people in charge. Dark sat back in his chair, staring at his former boss. How was he supposed to answer? There was no way he could come back to Special Circs. Not in a million fucking years. But if what Riggins said was true-that his freaking life depended on this-then how was he supposed to say no? Finally, Dark spoke.
Layover in Dubai by Dan Fesperman