A novel written in the form of a production copyrighted by Buccaneer Entertainments Ltd. and prefaced by acknowledgments to ten ""technical advisers"" (one for Astrology, one for Motor Transport, one for Southern dialect -- is that the man who keeps saying ""Bladdy""?) none of whom can really do a thing for Mr. Forrester even if he is the author of Fathom spy stories. A group of people as polyglot as the Foreign Legion -- bushmen, guerrillas, mercenaries, cutthroats, a playboy and a Hollywood ""Emperor of the epics"" and Maxton, the only decent one around, make their way to Diamond Beach in South Africa through impenetrable terrain. Still it's got nothing on Forrester's prose and in seven busy lines you'll stub your eyes on ""thumped, roaring, gushing, ruptured, blurred, shuddering, grinding, dribbling, pulsing, throbbing"" and, fulfillingly, ""engulfed.