THE PLOT:
Callan has left The Section and is determined to put his old life behind him... until he's contacted by an associate of Greek dissident Sophie Kollonaki. Once a freedom fighter for Greece during the war, Sophie now lives in Paris, in exile from the "The Colonels," the military dictatorship currently ruling her home country.
Sophie and her brother, Michael Vardarkis, were once on the same side - but now Michael is a rich businessman, and a firm supporter of the Colonels. He subsidizes her exile and protects her, but he also has leverage to keep her in check: Her daughter, Helena, who is being kept in Greece, safe and comfortable, but also under constant guard.
Sophie wants Callan to rescue her daughter. Not out of any particular affection - just so that she'll be able to once again act freely. Her brother wants Callan to accept the job, but to deliberately botch it.
But the important thing is what Hunter wants - and Hunter wants Callan to rescue the girl and to bring her straight to him, giving him leverage over everyone...
CHARACTERS:
Callan: As the book opens, he is doing manual labor. He dislikes the tedium of it, complaining to Lonely: "They'll tell you (hard work) never killed anybody. Don't you believe it, old son." He acknowledges that it has improved both his mental and physical condition, and his wits are certainly sharp. He recognizes immediately that Sophie's Soviet backers have set her up to fail, and he has no interest in being sacrificed for her cause. When Hunter coerces him into accepting the assignment, he trusts nobody except Lonely. He genuinely likes Dimitri, Sophie's contact inside the house where her daughter is being held, but he knows Dimitri is working to his own agenda. After Callan agrees to break into the house on one day, he immediately makes plans with Lonely to break in exactly one day before.
Hunter: He knows Sophie from her time as a partisan "up in the mountains, knocking off Germans." When Callan dismisses her as "a clown," Hunter firmly responds that he would trust Sophie "with (his) life," a vow a man like him doesn't make casually. After the Greek rebels make an attempt on Michael Vardarkis's life, Hunter muses about how much the rebels genuinely hate the man. He seems almost envious: "In this country, we don't seem to hate anymore... Or love, for that matter. We've lost the talent for it."
Lonely: Lonely is a genuine friend, which Callan is reminded of (yet again) when he learns that he's been stopping by his apartment since he left to check in and to clean. Lonely is indignant when Callan asks if he was followed, observing: "If I didn't want to be followed could you follow me?" His skill as a thief continues to impress, and he forgets to be afraid when he's working the locks during the final operation. His usual cowardice only returns after the alarms are bypassed and the door is open.
Meres: Shows outward respect for Hunter, but inwardly he's impatient. When Hunter muses about the Greeks, he mentally mocks the older man's reflectiveness. "Another minute and the old boy would be crying." Still, the only outward sign he allows is a slight shifting in his chair - and if I was inclined to bet, I would wager that Hunter knows exactly how impatient Meres is with his musings.
Fitzmaurice: A black agent in Hunter's employ, Fitzmaurice's interactions with Callan amount to exchanges of racial slurs. I suspect these scenes are what compelled the publisher of the modern reprint to add a disclaimer: "Please note that these books were published in the 1970s, when social attitudes were very different." Still, give James Mitchell credit: Fitzmaurice is no stereotype. Every time he appears, he is portrayed as completely competent. When he shares a job with Meres midway through, he's the one who shows restraint and keeps Meres from going too far.
Blythe: A mild mannered, homosexual dentist who loves Greece probably more than most of the actual Greek citizens do, and who is completely sympathetic to Sophie's cause. He endures a fair number of slurs about his sexuality, but he is portrayed in entirely sympathetic terms. By the end of the book, even Callan is impressed at his surprising courage in a crisis, and he ends the book determined to continue helping the resistance, even though he's every bit as sure as Callan that this will eventually end badly for him.
Helena Kollonaki: She has no interest in her mother's revolutionary activities. She is actually much fonder of her uncle, her supposed kidnapper, than of her mother. She is genuinely shocked when she sees Callan kill with casual efficiency, but she maintains a realistic attitude toward her situation.
THOUGHTS:
Death and Bright Water was published in 1974, the same year that the Greek junta, aka The Regime of the Colonels, fell after a mere seven years in power. There was no way that James Mitchell could have known that it was about to collapse. Still, it's clear that he did his research, and a sense of decay hangs over the story.
The main plot is well structured. The initial chapters see Callan learning of the job and meeting all the key players. He turns the job down, only for Hunter to intervene and make him accept. The next third or so follows Callan's meticulous preparations, while introducing complications: Dimitri, an ally he likes but can't afford to trust, and Bradley, the latest eager young assassin who lacks Callan's judgment but has enough strength and speed to make him wary. The final third chronicles the operation and the subsequent escape from Greece.
Somewhat surprisingly, it's the setup portion that works best. Mitchell's writing is at its most effective when detailing Callan's preparations and showing how he adjusts to every potential bit of treachery. I particularly enjoyed the scenes of Callan tricking Lonely into thinking they're on vacation before springing the job on him. As was true of both the series and Russian Roulette, the Callan/Lonely interactions are a highlight throughout.
The later action scenes are also well done, described in a way that's appropriate to both Callan the character and the series. In contrast to Meres or Bradley, Callan uses violence only when it's his last option. When violence is needed, he goes in with full recognition of his own mortality. There's no sense of excitement when he eliminates some guards during the escape or when he prepares an ambush for a would-be murderer. It's just a methodical, if unpleasant, task that he must accomplish in order to stay alive.
Mitchell's descriptions remain spare, with just enough description for the reader to clearly visualize settings but not so much as to slow down the pace. His writing feels sharper and more polished than in Russian Roulette, however. Descriptions of locations feel more distinct, probably because of the need to bring the Greek locations to life. Transitions, particularly switches in point-of-view, are also much smoother than in the previous book. There was at least one viewpoint switch in Russian Roulette that briefly threw me, something that never happens here.
I do have one quibble: a subplot involving a stubborn young police officer tracking Lonely. Though this thread arises from the main plot, it doesn't actually go anywhere. Yes, it showcases The Section's ruthlessness... but frankly, the scenes between Hunter and Callan already do that far more effectively. In my opinion, this entire strand should have been jettisoned, as all it does is steal focus from the more interesting central story.
OVERALL:
I thoroughly enjoyed Death and Bright Water. The story is well plotted, and it makes good use of the background involving The Regime of Colonels without ever getting bogged down by it. It also features fine character moments for Callan, Lonely, and Hunter, along with a passably interesting guest cast.
I'd rank this as an excellent addition to the series for Callan fans, as well as being a rather good thriller in its own right.
Overall Rating: 8/10.
Previous Novel: Russian Roulette
Next Novel: Smear Job (not yet reviewed)
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