THE VICAR

Battling an imminent threat rejuvenates a veteran MI5 agent.

Chambers’ peripatetic debut thriller runs for a while on two parallel tracks nearly 30 years apart. In 1989, novice MI5 agent Terry Nolan works undercover in Belfast, on the trail of IRA terrorist Kieran Martin. In 2018, Terry drinks too much and lives on a Catalina sloop moored in Boston Harbor. He’s still with MI5 and still in pursuit of the IRA, but in a managerial position in which he’s known as “the Vicar.” Operating on the East Coast of the U.S., the current IRA is less political and more criminal: “the Irish Mafia.” After a vodka-fueled sleep, 2018 Terry awakens to two armed thugs, dispatching both with panache. The less savvy 1989 Terry walks out of a pub and into an ambush, landing in a London hospital. Both narratives share a laconic edge and a focus on action, reminiscent of Ian Fleming’s James Bond, right down to the hero’s wry stoicism. The contrast between the eager young Terry and the jaded elder Terry adds pathos. As the deft killing of the two would-be assassins proves, the elder Terry may have lost his innocence but not his skill set. It’s good that Chambers gives Terry a chance to shake off the rust and regain his dedication, for the deadly duo are just the tip of an annihilating iceberg. Terry’s trail takes him all over the East Coast, to much of England, and through a platoon of henchmen. Enlivening the action is the requisite female companion, Kristen Burris, and a villainous femme fatale, An Dailtín, Gaelic for “The Terror.”

A formulaic but appealing espionage caper strongly reminiscent of vintage spy fiction.