Charles Jenkins, the aged former CIA agent, barely escaped from Russia with his life, pursued by half of the Russian intelligence services. After his arduous return home, instead of receiving gratitude for his efforts, the CIA wanted to deal with him harshly. Now, an officer from the American intelligence agency approaches him again. They think Jenkins would gladly return to Russia for another mission. Yet anyone with common sense knows that Charles Jenkins is the last agent they should send back there…
Why had he gone there?
To identify and neutralize Santa Claus? No, of course not! Jenkins was searching for the “Eighth Sister” (see review). It was a truly impossible mission, considering the Eighth Sister didn’t even exist. (Everyone knows there are only three in total.) So, unsurprisingly, he didn’t find her, no matter how hard he tried.
However, during his escape, Jenkins received help from Paulina Ponomayova, an IT specialist for the FSB. Unfortunately, Paulina, somehow managing to forget basic caution, ended up exposing herself to Russian counterintelligence. Let me tell you, that’s not exactly a recipe for a long life—even if some of those dreaded Russian counterintelligence agents turn out to be rather likable guys (as you’ll see later).
Paulina is now imprisoned in Lefortovo. Allegedly, she’s suffering from permanent brain damage. (It was pretty much a given she’d sustain some injuries along the way.)
Why go back again?
The Last Agent? I mean, the first agent the CIA managed to get to take on the mission. And why? To rescue Paulina. Sure, it’s a noble move considering he owes her his life, but let’s not forget, Russia is still really mad at him!
Also, it’s worth noting that Charles Jenkins is around 60 years old, stands about two meters tall, and—let’s not beat around the bush—is African American. I haven’t checked the exact demographic breakdown of Russia, but if I had to guess, I’d wager that this particular group doesn’t constitute a significant percentage of the population.
As if that wasn’t enough, Jenkins doesn’t just stand out because of his ethnicity but also due to his age—and, well, his sheer size. He might as well carry a sign over his head saying, “I’m suspicious, call the FSB immediately!”
In summary: Just like in the first installment of Jenkins’ adventures, the premise of this book is completely unrealistic. No sane American intelligence officer (or prudent novelist) would ever send back to Russia an easily identifiable, heavily compromised agent mere months after his last ordeal.
A Surprisingly Thrilling Manhunt
The best part of The Eighth Sister was Jenkins’ desperate cat-and-mouse game with the Soviets as he fled for his life. The Last Agent raises the stakes even further in this regard. Roughly the second half of Dugoni’s book is an extended, desperate, and highly twisty escape sequence.
The Last Agent skillfully switches up these scenes, with the chase taking place—quite literally—on land, water, and in the air. There’s barely a moment to breathe, as the characters remain in constant, life-threatening peril.
You’ll find yourself truly holding your breath as you follow the intricate, precisely timed plans that Jenkins uses to outwit the Russian intelligence heavyweight, the brutal Efimov.
Overcomplicated Plans
These plans, however, are so convoluted and overly complex that they seem downright unworkable. It feels implausible that the CIA would treat Moscow as its personal playground, pouring endless resources into rescuing a potentially brain-damaged individual while jeopardizing numerous agents from both its own ranks and allied intelligence services.
Could it be that the person in Langley who approved this mission is also suffering from severe brain damage?
At the same time, as you follow the adventures of Charles Jenkins, the over-the-hill field agent, you can’t help but start to think that Jenkins—despite impressing some members of the FSB with his performance—is really just a retiree who happens to have outrageously good luck time and time again.
Another Blows to Believability
Have you ever stopped to consider just how challenging it would be to free a prisoner branded as a traitor from the clutches of Russian counterintelligence in Lefortovo Prison? No? Are you sure?
Well, Charles Jenkins certainly has.
Actually, it’s not all that hard! Sure, you need some distractions, a few card tricks, and the like, but overall, it’s not entirely unworkable…
Oh, right—there’s one more thing you’ll need. The members of Russian counterintelligence have to be complete idiots.
That, of course, goes without saying. Just consider the fact that they’re unable to identify a former colleague among the guests at a hotel, where he’s spending his time in the company of a prostitute. A sketch? Fingerprints? DNA sample? For heaven’s sake, there must have been some DNA left behind here and there!
Interrogation with a Brick
In short, The Last Agent suffers from the same ailment as its predecessor. Robert Dugoni shamelessly sacrifices realism for the sake of his plot. He kicks the facts under the table—but no matter how hard he tries, they keep poking out from underneath.
Thus, the notoriously paranoid, ruthless, and vengeful agents of Russian counterintelligence suddenly find their long-buried goodness and conscience awakened—thanks to the irresistible charm of Charles Jenkins.
Comrade Efimov, aka “The Brick,” the ruthless FSB officer nicknamed for his favorite tool during interrogations (and even casual conversations)—a literal brick—finds himself unable to break the resolve of a 50-kilogram female IT specialist.
Meanwhile, the American intelligence agency, capable of executing endlessly intricate plans in the heart of Russia, somehow can’t manage to extract their own operatives, who are in mortal danger, from a ship sailing in the Baltic Sea. No, they have to wait until the damn thing docks at a port!
Conclusion
It’s hard to decide whether Robert Dugoni is an endlessly patriotic, fundamentally good-hearted person whose books are inherently coated in naive humanitarianism and rosy idealism, or if he’s a crafty novelist who specifically writes for warm-hearted and honorable citizens. Or, indeed, which of these two options might actually be worse.
The members of the Russian intelligence service are likely having a good laugh flipping through Robert Dugoni’s The Last Agent when they want a little break during work. Then, after they’ve lightened up, rolling up their sleeves, wiping the sweat from their brows, they reach for a brick again. And they get back to work.
Rating: 6.7/10
The Last Agent (Charles Jenkins #2) by Robert Dugoni
432 pages, Hardcover
Published 2020 by Thomas & Mercer
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Review of the previous book:
The Eighth Sister
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