"the globe and mail" critic margaret cannon said, "this isn't ian fleming's james bond, but the eighth book written by john gardner, the recreator of bond, and it's a far cry from the original. bond, with his libido and gadgetry, is a creation of the fifties, when sex was furtive and gadgets were fun. today, such authors as tom clancy serve up real technological frights that make all of bond's plots seem like the innocent revels they are. furthermore, gardner's bond is too american – too breezy and beefy - to be the real 007. this one needs to rip."