What starts as a good premise remembers to occasionally dip its toes into deep waters without ever committing. Too much of the time is spent on car chases and the like. It’s not the first time that Jeremy Robinson doesn’t know when to get out of his own way. Every book of his is good without being great but could be so much better if he had a good editor to refine him. This book is a worse case than most though because he’s trying to actually say something rather than deliver spectacle.
Each narrator does what they do best: RC Bray is amazing, and the best Jeffrey Kafer can do is to be a poor man’s RC Bray. It might just be his recording equipment, but every single sentence Kafer says starts with a strong baritone and ends in an almost inaudible whisper. And once you notice this it’s entirely distracting.