I can't deal with the big stuff, so let's do the small stuff. This is a pretty competent thriller, with a Machiavellian murderer, a heroic detective, and a good woman caught between the two of them. There's sex and death and high stakes confrontations. I'm pretty sure I read like five novels by Ken Follett with pretty much the exact same plot. Buy it at the airport, leave it at the airport, feel no shame.

Except for the big stuff, which is that this was written by TV "journalist" and serial sexual harasser Bill O'Reilly. And this is where it gets super weird. See, the protagonist Shannon Michaels is basically Bill O'Reilly's id, an Irish-American TV journalist who gets a story stolen from him by a bigger name at the network in Buenos Aires in 1982 (something that actually happened to O'Reilly), and who then goes on a rampage of revenge against the people who wrecked his career, using his IRA training (yes, really) to kill them in ironic ways without leaving any evidence. Stopping Shannon is Tommy O'Mally, an Irish-American cop with a shitty ex-wife, who's basically another layer of O'Reilly's id. And between them this super idealized East Coast prima donna, slumming it as the crime reporter at the New York Globe.

This novel is pretty good when it sticks to what O'Reilly knows, the backstabbing politics of TV news. Whenever a woman shows up... I have seen aliens depicted with more psychological realism and understanding than the female characters in this book. Good ones exist to be seduced by the powerful men, bad ones are ugly, crazy, probably secret lesbians, and deserve to die. A decent book, that is unintentionally hilarious in retrospect.