It's all chase and no logic in this latest on-the-run-from-the-CIA paranoia-thon--which begins when surly CIA operative Wes Carpenter receives a posthumous letter from a fellow agent claiming that he's been killed by CIA biggie Roland Lessy, who ""now controls every official undercover and federal police force in the country, and more."" Carpenter gets further evidence of this Seven-Days-in-May operation (by robbing and blowing up a government building) and is therefore subpoenaed to testify before a Congressional committee; but Lessy's ubiquitous forces are determined to prevent Carpenter from spilling the beans. So he--and his young lawyer Marvina (daughter of the dead agent chum)--are being stalked, booby-trapped, wire-tapped, etc. Even Carpenter's trusted aides are in Lessy's employ. And Carpenter and Marvina aren't even safe in the Congressional hearing room, where Lessy's hit men fire on them. To survive, Carpenter kills left and right, and the duo kidnaps a Senator (one of many under Lessy's control)--who leads them to the Presidential yacht where Lessy and the President (always referred to by Carpenter as ""the little bastard"") are hatching schemes. Ultimately, the yacht is exploded, the country is saved, and Carpenter is pushed over the edge into the catatonia that began years back with his solitary confinement in an Indochina prison. Lively and terse, but far too skimpily reasoned and textured to lend even fleeting credibility to all those dead bodies and far-reaching conspiracies.