Terminal

Terminal

A Burke Novel

Large Print - 2007
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" You know why we hate you? Not because you don' t know what we know, but because, if you did, you wouldn' t give a damn. So I' m sitting here, waiting to commit extortion, and planning a lot worse. I' m what you' d call a criminal. That' s why I' ll never be you. And I' m proud of it." --from "Terminal" When the former shot-caller of the country' s most feared white supremacist prison gang contacts Burke, he comes with references ... and the promise of a huge score. Terminally ill, the ex-con needs major cash to gamble on the long-shot possibility of a cure that' s available only in Switzerland. The only card he has to play is a small-time degenerate who paid for protection when they were in prison together. That professional bottom-feeder claims he personally buried the body of a thirteen-year-old girl who had been raped, tortured, and finally killed by three rich men more than thirty years ago--and that he' s holding irrefutable proof. But such a complicated extortion scheme needs the hand of a specialist crew, so Burke is offered a piece of the action. He and his outlaw family put together a lethal plan. If they can pull it off, Burke gets the two things he lives for: Money and Revenge. If not, " terminal" could prove to be more than just one man' s diagnosis. "Terminal" is a blistering thriller that forces Burke back in time--to keep a blood-commitment to a brother from his prison past, and to avenge the " cold-cased" rape-murder of a teenage girl.
Publisher: Waterville, Me. : Thorndike Press, 2007.
Edition: Large print edition
ISBN: 9781410402769
1410402762
Branch Call Number: LARGE PRINT VACHSS A
Characteristics: large print
427 pages (large print) ; 23 cm.

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loudem
Apr 22, 2012

My third Vachs novel. And my last. This last one is a piece of trash where words are put together to say nothing. Nothing flies here. Stupid story making a mountain out of ant hill. Characters are lifeless, two dimensional, and transparent as to be almost invisible. How can anyone write such swilled kitsch?

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