Showing posts with label Norman Winski. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Norman Winski. Show all posts

Thursday, May 12, 2016

The Hitman #3: Nevada Nightmare


The Hitman #3: Nevada Nightmare, by Norman Winski
November, 1984  Pinnacle Books

Here ends The Hitman, with a third volume that unfortunately isn’t as crazed as the first two. Sure, the goofy moralizing and hilarious epithets are still in effect, but it’s all very subdued, as if Nomran Winski was running out of steam. Which is a shame, as Nevada Nightmare has a lot of potential: Dirk “The Hitman” Spencer goes up against a self-styled messiah who rules his followers with “sex yoga, mind molding, and unequivocal obedience to the will of Allah as inerpreted by Zarathustra.”

Forget about the “Allah” mention; there’s nothing remotely Muslim about the cult of Zarathurstra, a bearded hedonist who resides in a clifftop fortress of glass in the High Sierras. Despite being heavily set up, Zarathustra and his followers aren’t given much focus in the novel; rather, the majority of Nevada Nightmare is comprised of a practically endless sequence where a disguised Dirk visits Zarathustra’s commune, scopes it out, gets discovered, explodes some stuff as a distraction, and then makes his escape. No kidding, this entire sequence runs from pages 43 to 120. When you consider that the book is just over 160 pages, this doesn’t leave room for much else.

The novel opens with one of Dirk’s patented hits that go right over the line into overkill; still in his home base of Chicago, The Hitman has decided that a millionaire industrialist deserves to die. The man is poisoning the lakes and in social circles he mocks the “redneck scum” who have died as a result. It’s “eye for an eye” time, as Dirk sits in a bulldozer and waits for the guy’s armored limo to come by. Of course the millionaire has armed goons with him, but they prove short work for Dirk’s customary Uzi. As he crushes the car, we learn that Dirk gets no pleasure in prolonging the suffering of his victims, thus he quickly ends his prey’s misery with another quick burst of Uzi slugs. 

Meanwhile Tad, an old, alchoholic newspaper reporter who is friends with Dirk, is about to head to Nevada to get back his stepdaughter Melody, a Latin beauty who is “one of the top ten covergirls in the country.” A wildchild in her late 20s, Melody has gone from one religious fad to the next; currently she is associated with the mysterious Zarathustra. But Tad suspects foul play, as Melody has not appeared to be herself, and indeed just called Tad in a panic before the line was cut dead. Now Tad, who by the way suspects Dirk of being The Hitman, is about to go kick some ass. Then some burly dudes come by and ambush him…

When a letter appears in the newspaper, supposedly from Tad and praising the religion of Zarathustra (which Tad in the letter claims to have run off to join), Dirk becomes concerned. It’s off to Nevada in his high-tech arsenal of a helicopter, busty redheaded sometimes-girlfriend Valerie Jones with him (the TV reporter who appeared in previous volumes). After a quick perusal of Zarathustra’s fortress below, complete with armed guards in white patrolling it, Dirk gets down to business: inducting Valerie into the mile high club! Sadly this is the one and only sex scene in the novel, and it too does not reach the goofy heights of such scenes in previous books.

Valerie is in love with Dirk, and we know he loves her too, but he is unable to tell her; the novel is filled with Don Pendleton-esque ruminations on how Dirk can never love a woman, never put her in jeopardy, due to his savage life as The Hitman. (He does still call Valerie “Rose petals,” though, and inspired by Dirk I’ve decided to start calling my wife that, whether she likes it or not.) After this sex scene Valerie disappears, only phoning Dirk once or twice from Chicago to provide him some leads on Zarathustra. She is the only person who knows he’s The Hitman, thanks to the events of the first volume, but Winski works up an angle where by novel’s end hard-drinking Tad will also have figured it out. Unfortunately there were no more volumes to follow up on this.

Zarathustra’s mountaintop fortress-commune, Shangri-la, is open to tourists on the weekend. Dirk puts on a fake beard and goes undercover with a busful of other faithful. Little does the reader realize that this sequence will prove to be the majority of the novel! Viewing the commune Dirk sees white-suited guards, the so-called knights of Zarathustra, patrolling the grounds, while the faithful who live here are clearly mind-blown from various drugs. Dirk has only brought one pistol with him, and has to stash it on the bus when he sees a metal detector outside the entrance. When he sees that the gun will be discovered Dirk decides he must escape – after planting an explosive.

Here the reader learns how to jury-rig a napalm bomb. As mentioned it just goes on and on, Dirk touring the building while putting together the components of his explosive. Along the way he briefly gets to see Melody, the aforementioned covergirl. She is one of Zarathustra’s “brides” and in a clever sequence Dirk gets her to admit, to an entire room, that she is here against her will. She has never met Dirk, so she doesn’t know who he is, but his icy blue eyes melt her right on the spot and she’s game for “the big man” to save her and her stepfather. As for Dirk, when he sees Melody he becomes “the warrior of love,” possibly my favorite-ever goofy ephitet in a series filled with them. As for Melody’s own reaction to her first sight of Dirk:

The big man’s steady gaze was like a blowtorch burning into her, melting every cold corner of fear in her being. Melody felt she was in the presence of a man whose inner resources were bottomless, a man of heroic capabilities, someone who, once he fixed his mind on a goal, would move mountains and overcome armies. In seconds the electric impact of his presence on her was as reassuring as it was arousing. In fact under her flowing white robes she felt a familiar wetness.

Dirk doesn’t even make his first kill in Shrangi-la until around page 80. After setting off the napalm bomb in the cafeteria he tries to escape the snow-swept mountain. Winski’s background with Gold Eagle Books comes into play with lots of gun-porn about the various machine guns the knights of Zarathustra carry. While the action scenes aren’t as prevalent this time out, they do still retain some of the gore factor, with copious detail of brains blasting out and guts spilling. Dirk is also one of the few ‘80s men’s adventure protagonists who enjoys taunting his prey before killing them, like when he calls a pair of knights “dummies” before shooting blowing their brains out.

This overlong sequence doesn’t really bring Shangri-la much to life. Zarathustra only briefly appears, speaking to the tourists; Dirk instantly notes that this guy too is hopped up on goofballs. Anti-drug rhetoric runs rampant in Nevada Nightmare, and the cult’s drugging seems to be what most sets off Dirk’s killer instincts. During his escape he finds an “addict’s paradise” of drugs on the commune. However that “sex yoga” stuff gets zero mention and Winski doesn’t dwell much on the actual acolytes of the so-called messiah. It’s really all about Dirk building a bomb and then slowly escaping; he manages to hitch himself under the departing bus of tourists.

In the final pages Winski pulls a new plot out of his hat: turns out Zarathustra is funded by Don Cerrito, aka “The Snowman,” an old Mafioso who keeps his Sierras retreat icy cold as he thinks it’s like a cheap way to cryogenic life preservation or something. But anyway Cerrito is now unveiled as the “real” villain of the piece, with like 20 pages to go; Dirk gets the info from Valerie, whose brother on the Chicago force looked up various info. Meanwhile Dirk has found a secret burial site near the commune, filled with instigators killed by Zarathustra. Next he saves Melody, who appears on a local radio show; he blows away her knight escort and the two head for Shangri-la, hoping to find Tad still alive there. Oh, and Melody gives Dirk a blowjob during the drive. Why not?

But Winski has wasted so many pages with the tour-escape sequence that the climax is perfuntory at best. Indeed, Shangri-la is already under attack when Dirk and Melody get there – by “terrorists” under the employ of Don Cerrito. Thus Dirk, clad in the white suit of a knight with a white ski mask (so Melody won’t see his real face – meaning she just orally pleased a dude in a ski mask whose name she doesn’t know…) doesn’t even get to fight anymore knights as they’re all already dead. He evades the assaulting terrorist squad, Melody, who has grown up with guns, serving as his sidekick as she capably blows guys away with a submachine gun.

Winski has in fact wasted so much space that we don’t even get to see Dirk rescue Tad, let alone Melody’s reunion with him. Dirk blows away a few Mafia goons and a dying Zarathustra, shot apart by the Mafia, tells Dirk and Melody that Tad is down in the wine cellar boozing it up! Melody races off for him…and Dirk heads for Don Cerrito’s nearby villa, just leaving Melody there! (He figures she can fend for herself. What a hero!) The finale is an abrupt bit where Dirk drops a bunch of plastique on the mountain above the Don’s villa, causing an avalanche that destroys both it and Shangri-la.

And that’s that…Winski ends the tale here, with a triumphant Dirk looking down at the destruction he’s caused. He suspects that Tad – who he isn’t even sure has survived – will no doubt soon figure out that Dirk Spencer and The Hitman are one and the same. But that was it so far as the series went, so here we leave our “warrior of love,” hovering in his armored helicopter and resolving himself to the fact that, as The Hitman, he will continue to wage war against the forces of evil.

Finally, one can’t help but feel that this series would’ve survived longer if it hadn’t had such terrible covers. With this one it looks like the photographer snapped his shot before his models were even ready!

Thursday, November 7, 2013

The Hitman #2: L.A. Massacre


The Hitman #2: L.A. Massacre, by Norman Winski
July, 1984  Pinnacle Books

The first volume of Norman Winski’s The Hitman series was a lot of goofy fun, but this second installment is even better. In fact it’s one of the best ‘80s men’s adventure novels I’ve read. It sort of comes off like Bronson: Blind Rage as rewritten by David Alexander, melding the sleazy and lurid plotlines of the former with the OTT action onslaught of the latter.

This one opens a little over a year after Chicago Deathwinds, and we learn that since we last saw him Dirk “The Hitman” Spencer has taken out “the Lake Shore Killer-Rapist” and Harry Gayarti, “the biggest dope-dealer in Chicago history.” L.A. Massacre opens with Spencer pulling a hit on another piece of scum who preys on the people of Illinois, dousing the bastard with a flamethrower before making a getaway in his Countach S Lamborghini.

As anyone who has read the first volume knows, this series pretty much begins where “over the top” leaves off, and this installment goes to even further heights of lunacy. The opening immolation, crazy as it is, is almost forgettable when the rest of the novel is taken into consideration. Another improvement from the first volume is that this time Winski doesn’t pad out the pages. The action is fast, furious, and constant – indeed, if it wasn’t for the colorfully-described gore, comic book-ish tone, and generally goofy feeling, L.A. Massacre would almost becoming numbing in its total devotion to action sequences.

The only thing this volume lacks in comparison to its predecessor is a focus on sex, which is strange given that in this installment Spencer cracks down on an illicit porn empire, one that also deals in snuff films and kiddie porn. Unlike the first volume, which saw Spencer mixing “business and pleasure” while on his mission, L.A. Massacre features all the “good stuff” in the opening pages only, and Spencer’s in full-on business mode throughout the rest of the tale.

In fact it’s Spencer’s latest conquest who gets him on the case: Karla, a sexy Brazilian stewardess, whom Spencer takes to a porn theater at Karla’s behest. (In a definite “hmmm” moment, Winski writes that, “when the movie grew all too predictable,” Spencer begins to think about his days in ‘Nam!) The onscreen sex gets Karla quite randy, but then shock overcomes her horniness when she sees her kid sister Manuella in the film. She’s lost contact with the girl, a runaway who isn’t yet 18, but Karla can tell from watching her sister as she engages in sex with another woman that Manuella is doped up, and no doubt was forced into all of this.

Spencer’s own sense of outrage is inflamed, not that this stops him from banging Karla right after the flick, the lady apparently getting over her shock pretty damn fast. (Also just as humorously, Spencer has picked up the odd habit of calling his lady friends “rose petals” this time around.) Learning that the porn movie was produced by Beaver Enterprises, Spencer checks with his old flame Valerie, newsreporter and former actress, aka the gorgeous babe he rescued in the previous volume, and remember the only woman Spencer has ever loved – a scene which sees the two getting friendly again in Valerie’s office.

Flying himself to LA, Spencer researches Beaver Enterprises, which is headquartered in a geodesic dome. Soon enough he learns that beyond their “respectable” front as a porn studio, they also deal in snuff films, child abduction, and kiddie porn, yet of course the damn liberal bureacrats won’t do anything about it! Even more unbelievably, Spencer learns that the silent owner of the entire operation is superstar Billy Que, a “younger clone of Elvis” who as coincidence would have it just happens to be in LA at the same time, giving another of his hugely popular concerts.

Billy Que is the goofiest archvillain you’ll ever meet in a men’s adventure novel, a portly and pompadoured crooner who wears silver jumpsuits and prefers young boys and girls to women. Spencer doesn’t mess around, pulling off a hit on Billy as soon as he finds out he’s behind Beaver; this is one of those setpieces Winski excels in, like in the first volume where Spencer pulled off a hit with an Uzi while performing flight aerobatics! And like that previous time this hit fails, thanks to Billy’s wearing of a bullet proof vest (which I don’t think would’ve been much use against Spencer’s high-velocity slugs, but no matter).

From here L.A. Massacre settles into a repetitive but enjoyable sequence of Spencer attempting to kill Billy Que in a variety of action-packed ways, with the villain himself always managing to get away but tons of his henchmen buying it in spectacularly gory fashion. You can tell Winski did some time at Gold Eagle, as he doles out the gun-porn with abandon, but never to the point where it becomes nauseating. Spencer is loaded to bear with an arsenal of machine pistols and assault rifles as he runs around in his costume, “a body-tight black linen jumpsuit with a long silver zipper in front,” a black “stocking mask” covering his face.

The lurid element gets a big focus as well, as we learn that Stephanie Julio, the obese president of Beaver Enterprises, puts on “parties” for Billy Que, bringing in drugged-up children for his sick pleasure. Spencer crashes one of these parties, which takes place in the penthouse suite of a posh apartment building, another great sequence which sees Spencer crawling all the way to the top of the place on suction cups and mowing everyone down with his Uzi. As mentioned the gore and carnage are stronger this time out as well, though still not up to the hyperkenetic level of David Alexander.

Winski in fact keeps piling climatic action sequence on top of climatic action sequence, building up until the expected final confrontation at Billy Que’s remote villa on Catalina Island (not-so-coincidentally the setting of the Winski-penned Able Team #2). During his blitzes Spencer picks up the intel that Billy plans to make Manuella the “star” of one of his snuff films – a priviledge we learn is granted to anyone who attempts to out Beaver Enterprises – and so the clock is ticking for Spencer to make his hit and save the girl. The finale is even more OTT than the action scenes that came before, with Spencer “drafting” a herd of buffalo in his merciless attack.

The stock epithets of the previous volume are also here in spades, with Spencer invariably referred to as “the blonde viking,” “the big warrior,” and etc, not to mention my favorite of them all, possibly my favorite character description ever: “the tall, bogus milkman” (which actually makes sense within the context of the narrative, but still!). Taken together the whole book reaches a level of jawdropping absurdity that puts it on the level of satire or spoofery – again, like Mark Roberts’s just-as-great Soldier For Hire series. The question is whether Winski intended it that way.

But regardless if he did or didn’t, it doesn’t matter – I give The Hitman my highest recommendation. Too bad there were only three volumes…but I guess, like Dean W. Ballenger’s Gannon series, great things come in small doses.

Monday, January 7, 2013

The Hitman #1: Chicago Deathwinds


The Hitman #1: Chicago Deathwinds, by Norman Winski
March, 1984  Pinnacle Books

I first learned about this obscure, three-volume series via Brad Mengel’s Serial Vigilantes of Paperback Fiction, and though Brad’s description intrigued me, when I read Zwolf’s awesome and hilarious review of this first volume on The Mighty Blowhole, I knew I had to read it. I’m just sorry it took me so long. While it isn’t completely perfect, Chicago Deathwinds does reach some absurd heights and is just as goofy and fun as Zwolf says.

Norman Winski also wrote Able Team #2: The Hostaged Island, which, despite featuring a plot about bikers taking over an island, was actually more “realistic” than this first installment of The Hitman (not to be confused, by the way, with Kirby Carr’s earlier Hitman series). But then, Winski was hamstrung by Gold Eagle’s editorial policies for Able Team; here, presumably, he was allowed to give free reign to his own warped interests, so that Chicago Deathwinds comes off like a gore and sex-filled Looney Tunes cartoon.

Our protagonist is Dirk Spencer, a good-looking blonde treetrunk of 100% MAN who not only kicked a bunch of ass in ‘Nam but is also the son of a mega-rich tycoon and thus has millions of his own. Dirk is so often and so consistently described in the narrative as “the big blonde viking” and etc that it all just storms right over the edge of satire and straight into parody. Practically every time Dirk is mentioned we’re either reminded of his huge muscles, his height, his rugged but handsome features, or his powerful blue eyes.

Dirk Spencer is full-on wish fulfillment, driving around in his customized red Lamborghini Countach S (we’re told it’s the only one in the world), bedding one gorgeous woman after another, living the general high life as he jetsets about all the happening places on the globe. Despite which we’re told his life lacks meaning(!), and now, over a decade after returning from Vietnam, he feels adrift…he wants to make a difference in the world, to use his powers for the good of man, but doesn’t know what he can do.

Luckily Winski doesn’t spin his wheels; within the first few pages a black family Dirk is friendly with is killed by corrupt security guards who make it look like some drug-related gangland killing. Able to see through to the truth of the matter, Dirk buys a bunch of guns (including a rocket launcher), some fancy high-tech scrambling equipment, and stalks the two thugs. The scene in which he gives them their comeuppance is pretty great, with Dirk forcing the two to beat each other half to death, then blowing them away, then blasting their car with his rocket launcher!

Dirk gets such a feeling of self-worth from this that he decides to become a fulltime crimefighter. Dubbing himself “The Hitman,” he now goes about “undercover” in his Lamborgini (remember, there’s only one like it in the entire world), decked out in a black combat suit. Like Kirby Carr’s Hitman, this Hitman also wears a mask, a “black nylon stocking mask with eye slits.” Winski picks up the narrative a year later, and now Dirk is well into his new career, operating out of his Chicago penthouse and planning his next job.

This turns out to be a megalomaniacal politician named Augustus P. Murdoch who is an American Hitler in all but name, a type of character who can only exist in an action series novel. A West Virginia native(!), Murdoch lives in a high-security compound in Illinois, surrounded by armed goons (the Sentinels).  He's the figurehead behind the Nazi-like SPPA, the Society for the Protection of Pure Americanism, and of course his lunkheaded vitriol goes down great in the heartland. Dirk wants Murdoch dead not just due to his far-right sentiments but also because the guy was allegedly involved in some assassinations, including the bombing of a bus filled with Mexican immigrants. But most worringly, his public support is gaining and Dirk fears the bastard might become president someday.

That goofy but lurid opening has you expecting a rollercoaster ride, but once Murdoch is introduced Winski spins his wheels for quite some time. There’s very little action – of the guns and fistfights variety, at least. Winski doesn’t shy on the sex scenes and they’re all pretty damn funny. Dirk it seems has an excess of wrathful energy, particularly before going on a mission, and so will sap himself by hiring hookers when necessary. And yeah, “hookers” in the plural. (Of course, we’re informed that they’re “high-class” hookers. Only the best for Dirk!)

There’s also a much too long sequence where Dirk goes to West Virginia, hooks up with some locals, and plots to assassinate Murdoch during a festival here in his hometown. In a burst of pure deus ex machina it develops that Dirk also has a passing interest in daredevil flying, so he spots a prime opportunity when it turns out that part of the rally will involve daredevil stunt flyers! Dirk commandeers a plane and pulls off a fly-by shooting with an Uzi! It’s all so dumb and goofy you just have to laugh, especially when it’s revealed that Dirk merely killed a stand-in.

Winski has fun with the female villain, a gorgeous seductress named Sabrina who gets off on torture. She’s a pulpy villainess very much in the vein of Margot Anstruther, from Mark Roberts’s Soldier For Hire #8: Jakarta Coup. (Humorously, Winski constantly uses the adjective "serpentine" to describe her.)  Sabrina works as Murdoch's secretary and by all appearances is second in command, so Dirk moves in on her. In order to insinuate himself into the fold, Dirk pretends to be a supporter of the SPPA. Soon enough he’s getting in bed with Sabrina, but for some reason Winski shies away from detailing what would have undoubtedly been a whopper of a scene.  He does spend a lot of time leading up to it, though, including this stunner of a pargraph:

Cruising leisurely along Lake Shore Drive, Lake Michigan on their right a molten dull silver reflecting a lead bullet moon, the Hitman learned two more personal items about Sabrina.  One, she had an M.A. in business administration from the University of Chicago and, two, she was into fondling a man's balls as he drove, while she kept her other hand busy caressing herself.

The tale of course climaxes with Dirk, in his Hitman garb, pulling a one-man-army raid on the compound. The bastards have kidnapped a lady named Valerie, a TV journalist who was doing an expose on the SPPA, and wouldn’t you know it, Valerie just happens to be the only woman Dirk has ever loved. (Naturally, he had to break it off because the Hitman can’t get involved.) What’s funny is that Dirk knows they have her, even though she’s officially reported as “missing,” but he waits about a week to rescue her.

Winski’s action scenes lack the flourish of David Alexander, but they’re still appropriately gory. It seems that every time Dirk shoots someone with his Uzi he saws them in half. The finale also packs on a bunch of lurid stuff, with Dirk arriving to rescue Valerie just as she’s being sodomized by Murdoch in a De Sade-inspired dungeon, while Sabrina meanwhile stands by with a whip, forcing Valerie to perform cunnilingus on her!

But as mentioned it’s all just so goofy that you can’t take it seriously. Dirk blows away the villains and saves Valerie – who as you’ll recall has been tortured and raped for the past week – and he’s immediately checking out her "extraordinary lovely breasts" and wondering when they can spend some quality time together! Even funnier is that Valerie feels the same way! I guess Sabrina and Murdoch just served to get her in the mood.

Also worth noting is that Dirk is like an action movie hero in that he doesn’t just shoot the antagonist; no, he goes to extremes to really kill the bastard in a novel way. Also, like a few other men’s adventure heroes, the Hitman leaves behind a calling card: a false eye and a false set of teeth, symbolizing “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” However Dirk has to explain this to his enemies; note to all potential men’s adventure protagonists: If you have to explain your calling card, you need to get a new one.

Anyway, Chicago Deathwinds is both goofy and great; the opening and ending are lots of crazy fun, but the entire middle half is a bit padded. Not that this will stop me from eagerly reading the next two installments.

Monday, February 27, 2012

Able Team #2: The Hostaged Island


Able Team #2: The Hostaged Island, by Dick Stivers
June, 1982 Gold Eagle Books

These early Gold Eagle novels are turning out to be much better than I expected. This one in particular comes off like an action-packed B movie, with an army of bikers taking over the peaceful island of Catalina, right off the California coastline. The three-man Able Team is called in to take care of the problem. Or, as team leader Carl Lyons succinctly puts it: "Kill them all."

The novel plays out very much like the '70s incarnation of men's adventure novels, with a lurid vibe and pulpish plot and villains. In other words, the imprint hasn't yet devolved into the nuke-of-the-month/Team America jingoism of later years. It does though uphold the Gold Eagle philosophy of, "Everything will be fine as long as you have a gun." It also makes cursory mention of the right wing bias that would also become so prevalent in later Gold Eagle offerings; when helicoptering to the island, Able Team is informed by their boss Hal Brognola that the civil rights of the bikers have been "suspended." IE, no need to worry about law and order or prosecution; just kill the bastards.

The writing however is quite good. The cover credits the book to Don Pendleton (who had nothing to do with it) and house name Dick Stivers, but the copyright page of the book credits authors Norman Winski and LR Payne. Winski published several novels over the years, but Payne is a mystery; the only credits to his name are the first three Able Team novels. I suspect the name was the psuedonym of a Gold Eagle editor who polished these early manuscripts to better fit the burgeoning Gold Eagle house style; what makes me suspect this is the last chapter of the novel, which has nothing to do with what came before, and seems to be written by a different author. In it Able Team basically sits around and waits to meet up with Mack Bolan. It just struck me as something an editor might add to the book to remind readers that the Able Team boys are part of a larger universe.

The takeover of Catalina is taut and well-rendered. The bikers are all well armed and, in a prefigure of Chuck Norris's Invasion USA, infiltrate the island in the dead of night and seal it off from the rest of the world. What makes the novel fun though is that the bikers act like bikers, and not like a commando force; most of them would rather tear across the streets on their choppers, get drunk, get high, and mess around with the local women. After killing the sheriff and making a call to the governor with their demands, the bikers imprison the island residents in a community center and bide their time until their demands are met.

A few islanders manage to escape and arm themselves, killing a few bikers and finding cover. But the brunt of the rescue of course goes to Able Team, who are quickly called into action, as the government wants to keep the takeover a secret. Winski does a fine job of juggling the three characters, meaning that the novel doesn't come off solely focusing on just one of them. Also, there's great rapport between the three, including a lot of enjoyable banter, even while the bullets are flying. This again lends the novel a B movie feel.

The Gold Eagle focus on guns also factors in when Able Team is equipped with their firepower for the mission. Their gun supplier lays out all of the equipment, going on and on about each piece. Literally paragraph after paragraph of firearm detail that will likely have gun-porn enthusiasts reaching for the Lubriderm. And of course following the old "rifle hanging on the wall" dictum of Chekhov, each firearm is shown in action as the novel unfolds. Winski excels in the action scenes, pouring on the graphic violence and gore.

The Hostaged Island has the one plot and follows it through to the end. Since the novel isn't long, it all works out perfectly. We know of course that Able Team will survive the mission, so Winksi plays up some truly dramatic scenes with the island residents and their constant danger. He even works in some great stuff like when the bikers keep getting nailed by this secret "commando team" (Able Team of course striking from and returning to the shadows) and so decide to take out their rage on the residents. This involves a plan to basically spray everyone in the community center with gasoline and set them on fire. Winski provides excellent revenge material as well; he makes these bikers truly evil, and all of them get their comeuppance in gory and spectacular ways.

I think this was Winski's only Able Team novel, but his contribution here was enjoyable enough that I'll look out for more of his stuff, in particular his three-volume Hitman series, which sounds like a lot of fun.