This was absolutely terrible. In a word: Trashy James Bond -- the uninspired kind you want to avoid.

The main character in this series, Malko, is an Austrian nobleman who moonlights as a freelance special agent for the CIA, who drop him into various spy/thriller scenarios. In this instalment he is posing as a US Aid worker dealing with refugees in Cambodia, when the Khmers Rouges are besieging Phnom Penh. Malko is shown around the city, which seems little more than a giant black market where decadence, alcohol, opium and prostitutes make up daily life. Corruption is rife as Cambodian state forces, the Americans and the Khmers Rouges are making deals behind the scenes.

At least the bare trappings of a by-the-numbers spy thriller are there. The Big Bad is an evil general; his main henchman is an amputee named Phuong, who is an admirable fighter despite the lack of his legs. And of course Malko is introduced to a number of sexy asian ladies (SALs), who are all a little bit mysterious, very pretty with small breasts, and upon meeting Malko they all default to the role of helpful assistant who intensely desires the sexy white male.

If this sounds like a setup for a minor James Bond film with at least a modicum of promise, the book is actually much worse. De Villiers writes with a limited vocabulary that is repeated ad nauseam (guns fire only in rafales, explosions déchiquetent people). There are awkward sex scenes of questionable Gary-Stu quality. The Big Bad is said to be the Big Bad, but is not given a chance to show his evilness; and so there is no real tension. Several non-white characters express themselves in even less than Hulk Speak, particularly a Chinese action girl with the very un-Chinese name of Monivanh (number one = "good”, number ten = "bad”; no sweat / beaucoup sweat = "no problem / big heap problem”, tic-tic = ”have sex”). And worst of all: Malko is almost entirely passive in this book and takes virtually no initiative. For most of the book he gets carted around by CIA agents and by the SALs and is introduced to various people; he doesn’t speak any of the local languages, which means that many setups for the grand finale go through an intermediary -- the aforementioned agents and SALs; his assassination attempt (really his only action scene) goes wrong in the clumsiest of untrained amateur ways and a SAL has to rescue him; his master plan is executed by someone else; and in his final action scene his weapon, his transport, his intel and his exit strategy have all been handed to him by a SAL. Some action hero! In fact, if Malko were any random red-blooded male who imagines themselves capable of withstanding a little torture before the cavalry show up, this book's plot would not only play out exactly the same, but there’d be at least some kind of excuse for Malko’s lack of initiative.

And then there are facepalm-worthy passages such as the following. After Monivanh has fought off evil henchman Phuong (Malko, of course, was knocked semi-unconscious almost immediately), she takes Malko back to his hotel and gives him a divine blowjob which, incidentally, involves a cup of tea. Then we get this (my translation):

Flirtant avec l’infarctus, Malko était incapable de répondre. C’était encore plus éprouvant que le combat avec Phuong… Monivanh avait vraiment des ressources très diversifiées. Elle savait peut-être même faire la cuisine...

Feeling close to a coronary, Malko was unable to respond. This was even more grueling than the fight with Phuong… Monivanh’s skills really were quite diverse. Perhaps she even knew how to cook...

Right.

This is a shockingly bad book -- the kind of trashy that makes me feel I wasted my time on it. It doesn’t really use the tropes of flashy spy fiction efficiently, it merely mentions their external trappings and bets that that will be enough to keep people interested. I would say it even fails to clear the very, very low bar that is cheap self-insert fantasy: its protagonist is too passive and the stakes he faces are too low. ( )