This is quite possibly the lamest book I have ever read in the cold-war thriller genre. Implausible plot devices, impossible heroics (the shot "leaves his eye on the floor," yet our stalwart hero trudges on at one point), and a prose style that makes two week old lasagna seem fresh.No motivation is ever developed for a rude and reticent lead character (with the prerequisite pot boiler characteristics of hyper-academic intelligence, animalistic backwoods savvy, inexhaustible macgyver-like creativity and, oh yes, an irresistible charm to women to abandon his mountain man idyll and become siberia's own Rambo, save for the notion that a 5 page book about a hero who tells the authorities to get lost may not have made the most ordinary of books.As this is, and oh that it had been released in the five page version.