Glorious Trash Goes AI

I thought I’d share a litle fun I had with various AI programs: I gave ChatGPT, Gemini, Grok, and Google AI the URL for my blog and asked each of them to write a Glorious Trash-style review for a fictional (ie nonexistent) men’s adventure series novel. 

First up is Gemini – this is what the Gemini App provided: 

In honor of your fantastic blog, here is a review of a non-existent 1980s Men’s Adventure paperback, written in the quintessential Glorious Trash style—complete with technical specs, a nod to the cover art, and a cynical yet affectionate breakdown of the carnage. 

THE BLOOD-VIGILANTE #4: NEON NIGHTMARE By "Chet Sterling" (actually a house name for a hungover ghostwriter) 

May, 1984 Gold Eagle / Worldwide Library 

Back in the mid-80s, the Men’s Adventure market was so overstaturated that publishers started throwing everything at the wall to see what would stick. If it wasn’t a post-nuclear nomad or a Mafia-hunting veteran, it was usually a guy with a punny name and a massive caliber handgun. Enter The Blood-Vigilante. 

I’ve covered the first three volumes of this series before (see my reviews of The Red Gutter and Kill-Zone Karate), and while they were serviceable Executioner clones, Neon Nightmare is where the series—and presumably the author’s sanity—really goes off the rails. 

Our hero is, as always, Stone Vengeance (yes, that’s his name). Stone is an ex-Black Ops specialist who retired to a quiet life of cleaning his many, many guns until a Japanese death-cult decides to kidnap his favorite waitress from the local greasy spoon. Why? Because the cult leader, a guy named Baron Shidoko who wears a neon-pink kimono and lives in a penthouse atop a defunct Sears building, needs her "purity" to power a laser satellite. Or something. The plot is really just a clothesline to hang various scenes of Stone Vengeance blowing things up. 

The book starts with Stone in a seedy Tokyo-inspired version of Los Angeles. "Chet Sterling" (who rumor has it was actually a sci-fi writer trying to pay off his gambling debts) spends about three pages describing Stone’s customized .44 Magnum, which apparently has a barrel so long he has to carry it in a modified trombone case. 

The action is relentless and increasingly absurd. In chapter six, Stone infiltrates a warehouse by driving a stolen garbage truck through the wall while firing two Uzis simultaneously. Sterling’s prose is pure purple pulp: 

“Stone felt the hot lead singing a song of righteous fury. The cultists folded like cheap lawn chairs under the weight of his 9mm justice. The room smelled of cordite, cheap cologne, and the impending arrival of the Reaper.” 

One thing you have to love about these Gold Eagle-era titles is the casual disregard for physics. At one point, Stone jumps off a moving motorcycle, performs a mid-air somersault, and snipes a helicopter pilot with a flare gun. It’s glorious, high-octane trash of the highest order. 

There’s also the mandatory "soft-core" chapter where Stone meets a female ninja named Jade who is "deadly as a cobra but soft as a silk sheet." They spend exactly two pages "bonding" before she is inevitably killed off in the next chapter to give Stone an excuse to get really mad. 

The climax involves Stone storming the Sears building. He doesn't use the stairs; he uses a grappling hook attached to a motorcycle. Don't ask how it works. By the time Baron Shidoko gets his head disintegrated by Stone’s "Justice-Magnum," the body count is somewhere in the triple digits, and half of downtown LA is on fire. Stone simply lights a cigarette, mutters something about "the trash being taken out," and walks into the sunset. 

Neon Nightmare is a prime example of the "more is more" philosophy of 80s paperbacks. It’s loud, it’s dumb, and it’s over in 160 pages of tight, breezy typeface. It’s not "good" in any traditional sense, but if you want to see a man named Stone Vengeance punch a ninja through a neon sign, this is the book for you. 

Final Verdict: 4 out of 5 Spent Casings. Great cover art by Gil Cohen (probably), featuring a guy who looks suspiciously like a buff Burt Reynolds. 

Side Note: If any of you find a copy of The Blood-Vigilante #5: Arctic Ambush, let me know. I hear that’s the one where Stone fights a polar bear with a chainsaw. 

Next up is one by my buddy ChatGPT: 

Absolutely — and thanks for pointing me to the blog! I read a bunch of Glorious Trash reviews to get a feel for the tone: smart-ass pulp enthusiasm, cranky but funny critique, lots of meta commentary about writing quality, bizarre plot logic, sleaze quotient, and a genuine love for terrible books even while roasting them. 

Here’s a fictional review in the Glorious Trash style of an imagined men’s adventure novel: 

Talon Strike: Omega Dawn, by Rex Bladewolf 

Straight up? Talon Strike: Omega Dawn might be the dumbest damn book I’ve ever loved to read — and that’s saying something coming from someone who once devoured an entire novel about a CIA agent whose secret weapon was a bo staff made of compressed unicorn hair. Which, honestly, should’ve been the title of that novel. 

Plot (Such As It Exists) 

We open in the blistering sands of Zarqon Province, where CIA supersoldier Talon Strike — former Navy SEAL, ex-black ops, current narcissist extraordinaire — is chasing a rogue bioengineered death cult known only as The Final Dawn. They’ve stolen Project Omega Seraph, a lab-grown super-plague that turns people into glowing blue zombies who can still bench-press a Toyota. (Don’t ask how anyone figured that out — the book never explains.) 

Meanwhile, Talon’s ex-flame Serena Savage, a CIA analyst with a PhD in “knife shapes that mean trouble,” has to team up with him again because reasons. Specifically: Talon once saved her life with his bare hands… which honestly seems easier than explaining this book’s timeline. 

And just so you know this book has stakes: the head cultist — the chillingly named Azrael the Undying — is planning to release Omega Seraph at the World Peace Summit (or is it a Dog Show? They both have buffets and chaos, so roll with it). 

The Good 

If your idea of “good” is peak pulp insanity, this novel delivers: Talon once kills a bad guy using only a broken chair and an inspirational quote he learned from his drill sergeant. 

Serena rigs a lab explosion with seventeen paper clips and sheer willpower. One entire chapter is Talon monologuing about how endless war has honed his pecs into diamond-like perfection. (Gross yet compelling.) 

There’s also a fight scene on a moving freight train where Talon flips off one bad guy, then onto another — and honestly, I didn’t know that was physically possible. 

The Bad 

Oh lord, the prose. Dialogue like: “I see the truth in your eyes,” Talon said. “Burning like gasoline on a sunlit highway.” No one says lines like that unless they’re tied to a chair with acid dripping on their boots. Exposition dumps so heavy you’d swear Bladewolf was paid by the syllable. Plot holes you could parachute a Humvee through. But as with the finest of trash epics — I read every damn page. 

The Sleaze 

Like any self-respecting men’s adventure novel worth its salt, this book has: A femme fatale whose idea of subtle flirtation is kicking the hero in the groin, slowly. A cult ritual that’s 90% chanting and 10% gratuitous leather harness commentary. At least one inexplicable bare-chested desert sequence. 

Verdict 

Omega Dawn doesn’t just embrace its ridiculousness — it slays it with flaming twin pistols at sunrise. This is the kind of book where the hero’s laser pistol jam is worthy of fifty pages of internal monologue, and where the villain sometimes pauses just to explain his evil throughout. 

Would I read the next one? Yes. In a heartbeat. Because Talon Strike — for all his invulnerable abs and impossible luck — is a glorious, roaring explosion of pulp brilliance, and Omega Dawn is everything I want from a worthless, wonderful heap of glossy paperback trash. 

Rating: (Five detonators out of five — and I’d carry one to the beach.) 

Now here’s one by Gemini’s web version (ie not the app): 

The Kill-Chain Mandate (1978): A High-Octane Choreography of Cordite and Chest Hair 

The Setup: 

Ex-Special Forces operative turned "independent maritime consultant" (that’s 70s pulp-speak for "mercenary with a heart of gold and a liver of lead") Trace Stryker just wanted to finish his scotch at a dive bar in Macau. But when a mysterious woman in a silk cheongsam drops a microchip into his drink—and is promptly vaporized by a sniper’s bullet—Stryker finds himself caught in a web of global intrigue involving a rogue KGB general, a private island in the Philippines, and a satellite-guided laser system called Project Icarus. 

The Vibe: 

Imagine if a Sean Connery fever dream was transcribed by someone who had just consumed three pots of black coffee and a pack of unfiltered Luckies. Author "Chet Hammer" (almost certainly a pseudonym for a weary mid-list writer named Arthur who lived in a New Jersey basement) writes with the kind of frantic, muscular prose that suggests he was being paid by the adjective—specifically adjectives related to "hardened steel" and "musk." 

What Makes It Glorious Trash: 

The Hardware: Hammer spends three full pages describing Stryker’s customized .44 Magnum, which apparently has "the stopping power of a freight train and the grace of a ballerina." There is a weirdly erotic level of detail regarding the oiling of gun parts. 

The Hero: 

Trace Stryker is the ultimate alpha. He doesn't sleep; he "recharges in the shadows." He doesn't eat; he "fuels his mission." At one point, he cauterizes a wound using a heated Zippo and doesn't even flinch—he just uses the opportunity to light a cigar. 

The Casual Misogyny/Xenophobia: 

It’s 1978, folks. Every female character is a "femme fatale" with "eyes like switchblades," and every villain is a sneering caricature of Cold War anxieties. It’s problematic, it’s dated, and it’s exactly what you expect when you find a book with a shirtless man on the cover holding a rocket launcher. 

The Action: 

The final showdown takes place inside a hollowed-out volcano (of course). The body count is roughly the size of a small Midwestern town. Hammer describes explosions with such phonetic intensity—KRA-KOOOM!—that you can almost smell the sulfur coming off the yellowed mass-market paperback pages. 

The Verdict: 

The Kill-Chain Mandate is a masterpiece of the "Men’s Adventure" genre. It’s fast, it’s loud, and it makes absolutely no sense if you think about it for more than four seconds. It is a literary Slim Jim: zero nutritional value, questionable ingredients, but god help me, I couldn't stop until I finished the whole thing. 

Final Score: 4/5 Spent Casings. 

 Here’s one by Google AI (ie the basic “AI” feature on the Google search bar): 

BLOODY BAYOU (The Gator-Man #1) - By "Buck Savage" (1982) 

Welcome back, trash-fiends. Today we’re diving deep into the humid, mosquito-infested swamps of 1982 with a real piece of shelf-filler from the short-lived "Macho-Gore" line from Pinnacle. I’m talking about Bloody Bayou, the first (and thankfully only) outing for a protagonist who makes The Executioner look like a Sunday School teacher. 

The Setup: 

Our "hero" is Vance Power—yes, that’s his name—a former Green Beret who retired to the Louisiana swamps to "find peace," which in pulp-speak means "waiting for a reason to kill thirty people." Peace is interrupted when a local oil tycoon starts dumping radioactive sludge into the water, turning the local alligator population into six-hundred-pound killing machines with a taste for Coors-drinking locals. 

The Action: 

Author "Buck Savage" (almost certainly a pseudonym for a guy writing this in a weekend fueled by Scotch and spite) doesn’t skimp on the red meat. By page ten, a corrupt deputy is literally turned into a human po' boy. 

The prose is as purple as a bruised rib. Savage describes a swamp sunset as "the bleeding throat of God," and Vance Power doesn’t just walk; he "coils through the sawgrass like a spring-loaded engine of vengeance." 

The Trash Factor: 

What makes this Glorious Trash is the complete lack of internal logic. Vance has a "tactical airboat" equipped with dual M60s and a mini-fridge. There’s a three-page digression about how to properly skin a nutria that reads like a manual for a psychopath. 

The climax involves Vance wrestling the "Alpha-Gator" while a refinery explodes in the background. Does it make sense? No. Does it feature a man stabbing a radioactive reptile in the eye with a sharpened boat oar? You bet your acid-washed jeans it does. 

The Verdict: 

If you find this in a thrift store bin for fifty cents, grab it. It’s got everything we love here: questionable 80s politics, excessive descriptions of firearms, and a body count higher than the author’s IQ. 

Final Grade: 4/5 Slimy Scales. 

And finally, here’s one by Grok: 

Here's a Glorious Trash-style review of a completely made-up men's adventure series entry. I invented a nonexistent series called "Cobra Venom" (because why not?), with our hero being a lone-wolf ex-Special Forces badass who keeps getting dragged into globe-trotting mayhem. Think Penetrator meets Executioner with a dash of that sleazy '80s Pinnacle Books vibe. 

Cobra Venom #7: Saigon Slaughterhouse By “Jack Stryker” (house name) 

Pinnacle Books, February 1984 

Man, I don’t know what it is about these mid-’80s men’s adventure series, but by book #7 they either hit their stride or start circling the drain. Saigon Slaughterhouse falls somewhere in the middle: it’s got the requisite body count, sleaze, and one-liners, but you can tell the house writers were starting to run low on fresh ideas. Still, it kept me entertained for a couple of afternoons, and that’s really all we ask from this stuff, right? 

Our man Cade “Cobra” Harlan is back, still sporting that signature black leather jacket (even in the jungle humidity—priorities!), still chain-smoking unfiltered Camels, and still nursing a grudge against every communist, drug lord, and corrupt politician from here to Bangkok. This time the plot kicks off when Cade gets a coded message from an old ’Nam buddy who’s now running a black-market gun operation in what’s left of Saigon (this is 1984, so we’re still pretending the place is a hotbed of intrigue even though the war’s been over for a decade). The buddy’s been snatched by a rogue ex-ARVN colonel who’s built a private army in the Mekong Delta and is planning to flood the U.S. with a new super-heroin called “Dragon’s Blood.” 

How convenient! Cade just happens to be in the neighborhood (he was “laying low” after icing a Miami cocaine kingpin in #6), so he grabs his trusty .44 AutoMag, a duffel bag of grenades, and heads overseas. Cue the requisite barroom brawl in a sleazy expat dive where half-naked bargirls cheer him on while he smashes a VC holdout’s face through a table. Classic. 

From there it’s the usual rollercoaster: ambushes in rice paddies, torture scenes that get pretty grim (the colonel’s favorite trick is dangling captives over pits filled with bamboo vipers—ouch), and of course the inevitable beautiful Eurasian double agent who sleeps with Cade, betrays him, then gets a last-minute redemption when she takes a bullet for him. Her name’s Linh, and she’s described in loving detail: “long black hair like midnight silk, full breasts straining against her silk ao dai, and eyes that promised heaven—or hell.” You know the drill. The sex scene is abrupt, sweaty, and mercifully short; no one’s pretending this is literature. 

The action really picks up in the final quarter when Cade storms the colonel’s river fortress (because every good men’s adventure needs a river fortress). We get boat chases with mounted machine guns, flamethrowers, a helicopter attack that ends with the chopper getting a LAW rocket through the cockpit, and Cade personally executing about thirty bad guys with headshots and knife work. There’s even a bit where he straps dynamite to a sampan and rams it into the enemy dock—pure ’80s excess, and I was here for it. 

The only real drag is the padding: there’s a long stretch where Cade gets captured and has to listen to the colonel monologue about his “grand vision” for a new Indochinese empire. Yawn. And the ending is abrupt even by series standards—Cade blows up the heroin stash, walks off into the sunset with a fresh pack of smokes, and we’re told “the war wasn’t over for Cobra Harlan.” Cue next month’s adventure. 

Still, for what it is, Saigon Slaughterhouse delivers the trashy goods. Solid action, enough sleaze to keep things interesting, and that unmistakable sense of a writer banging this out over a long weekend with a case of beer and a deadline. If you’re a fan of the Penetrator or the later Executioners, you’ll find plenty to like here. Just don’t expect Shakespeare. 

Recommended for a rainy afternoon when you want something violent, stupid, and fun. Cobra Harlan will be back next month in Cobra Venom #8: Panama Payback—and if the cover painting of him straddling a motorcycle with dual Uzis is any indication, it’s going to be bonkers. 

(Posted with yer pal, taking a break from the real world to celebrate the glorious trash.) 

Overall I found it interesting that none of these AI programs treated their fictional books on the level; all of them were satirical, featuring wild plots that bordered on sci-fi. I also thought it was interesting that some of them included a rating system, something I’ve never done here on the blog. The AI reviews are also a lot more dismissive of the books than I am; personally I’d be thrilled to read some of these books, and certainly wouldn’t mock them in a review. In this regard I think Grok came the closest to capturing the tone of the blog, and also it was the only one that included a month for its fictional publishing date.  However, ChatGPT summed up my blog perfectly in its opening paragraph.

That said, some of the mockery was very funny; Gemini’s comment that one of the ghostwriters was a “weary writer named Arthur” made me laugh out loud, as did the Gemini app comment of the undercover sci-fi writer paying off his gambling debts. I also appreciated how Grok was the only one that put actual sleaze into the fictional book (even mentioning breasts!), whereas the others were more chaste – so perhaps Grok has less limitations on that, who knows. Grok did kind of go nuts a few months ago. 

I might do more of these in the future, just for fun – I’d like to get some that aren’t so satirical, and maybe even have them try some 1970s trashy potboilers or horror.

SOBs #8: Eye Of The Fire

SOBs #8: Eye Of The Fire, by Jack Hild

September, 1985  Gold Eagle Books

Not sure why I took so long to get back to SOBs. Eye Of The Fire is another strong entry that again proves that this series was the unsung jewel of the Gold Eagle line; as I’ve mentioned before, I got a copy of SOBs with every Gold Eagle shipment, and would place each volume side-by-side on my bookshelf, but I never read a single one of them. 

I think I tried to, though, and the cover of Eye Of The Fire (by Ron Lesser?) is so familiar that I’m certain I had it as a kid; I also seem to recall trying to read it and giving it up after a chapter or two. Likely at the time SOBs seemed too slow-going for me, and I probably just wanted the more action-focused stuff typical of the Gold Eagle imprint. Reading the books now, as an “adult,” I appreciate the series a lot more than I ever could have as a kid; the small group of writers who handled the series clearly were working together to retain a sense of continuity and vibe, and there’s a focus on characterization that isn’t as evident in the other Gold Eagle publications. 

This volume was handled by Robin Hardy, who I believe wrote the majority of the books in the series. Hardy also wrote the previous volume, but there’s not much pickup in this one; indeed, it mostly picks up from #6: Red Hammer Down, if only in how we finally get pickup on what’s going on with Billy Two. As we’ll recall, in that earlier volume the American Indian Sobs member was captured and mentally tortured and whatnot, and he’s been out of the series since then; now he’s back, and he’s in full-on “Billy from Predator” mode. 

It seems very suspicious how similar the two Billys are; one almost wonders if the movie character was inspired by Billy Two. Just as Billy became increasingly spaced-out and “Indian” as Predator progressed, up to putting on warpaint, so too is Billy in SOBs; he spends the majority of Eye Of The Fire in facepaint with feathers in his hair, and is prone to talking to visions or hallucinations. 

In short, Billy Two is by far the most interesting character in the series, and the most entertaining, to the extent that “series protagonist” Nile Barrabas is sort of lost in the shuffle. Occasionally Hardy will give us scenes from Barrabas’s perspective, and we learn he’s a no-nonsense, taciturn leader of men and whatnot…but he’s just not very memorable. Same goes for most of the other Sobs, but at least the series authors strive to make them somewhat identifiable: Nanos is the ladies man, Beck is the computer guy, and Claude is the, uh…well, he’s “the black one.” 

The back cover will tell you that the plot of Eye Of The Fire concerns the Sobs rescuing “Colonel D” from a Cuban prison, and while that’s sort of true, it takes a goodly portion of the narrative to get there. Rather, the main thrust of this 222 page installment is the Sobs trying to track down young Tony Lopez, 17 year-old brother of former Sob Hector Lopez, who was killed in action in #4: Show No Mercy. 

Tony takes up a goodly portion of the narrative; he’s run away from home now that he’s a “man,” determined to look up these bad-ass mercenaries his big brother hung out with. Instead Tony nearly gets blown away by Nanos and the others when he sneaks into the temporary Sobs headquarters in Tampa, then later he’s kidnapped by this right-wing group calling itself X Command, which reports to the senator who has been a recurring character in the series – a never-named senator who has a grudge with the Sobs and is constantly plotting to get them killed on a mission. We are reminded how this guy was crippled in the fourth volume (another Hardy installment), but we still don’t know why he hates the Sobs so much…or maybe we were told but I forgot. 

The Colonel D stuff only comes and goes sporadically, but basically he’s a sadist known for training death squads in Latin America. Now the Cubans have him and are interrogating him, and Walker Jessup – the fixer for the Sobs – wants Barrabas and team to slip into Cuba and exterminate Colonel D, to keep his mouth shut. “I’m not an executioner,” Barrabas angrily states, making one wonder if Robin Green were slyly taking a dig at Gold Eagle’s most popular series. 

It seems that the schtick with SOBs is that each volume goes for the slow build; Barrabas and team in their normal life as they prepare for the mission, with the mission itself taking up the final quarter. That is certainly true here, with action sporadic in the first three-thirds of the book; perhaps a reason why I was never able to get into the series as an action junkie kid in the ‘80s. 

But when Billy Two enters the narrative, the game changes big time. First we have a great psychedelic bit where he’s meditating nude in the desert, and approached by the ghost of Hector Lopez, who tells Billy that the team needs him. So Billy, still naked, walks off. When he shows up later he’s in full-on “mystical Indian badass” mode, making profound, spaced-out statements before killing guys with his bare hands. There’s a great part where he dives into the ocean and takes on a pair of frogmen. 

The cover art is not a lie, as this is very much a scuba-based mission for the Sobs. Colonel D is in an old fortress, and the only way the team can get in is by swimming underwater for a mile and then infiltrating from the ground up. This is a tensely done sequence that reminded me of a similar sequence in the never-published The Baroness #10. Robin Hardy ups the ante with not only the Cubans after the Sobs, but X Command as well; the busy plotting has these right-wingers using Barrabas to do the heavy lifting of freeing Colonel D, so that they can take Colonel D from Barrabas. 

When the action does go down, it is competently handled if not super gory. Also, there’s hardly any of the excessive gun-detailing Gold Eagle books could get mired in. That said, Robin Hardy has an annoying tendency to deliver clunky writing in the action scenes, often resorting to stuff like “Ka-blamm!” and also relying hugely on single-line paragraphs. I know this is to make things seem punchy and tense, but when you have several single-line paragraphs per page, the effect is a little squandered. 

Overall, though, Eye Of The Fire keeps moving for the majority of its 222 pages, though the stuff with teen psycho “The Kid” is a bit much. Hardy uses this in the finale as the opportunity for Barrabas to exposit on how he’s no hero, but he’s no killer, but all of this seems a bit too “deep” for a men’s adventure series. But then, stuff like this is what separates SOBs from the Gold Eagle line; as stated, there is more care to the characterization and the narrative structure. The highlight is Billy Two – if the series had been published in the ‘70s, he would have been the main (and perhaps only) protagonist – and if anything I look forward to seeing how the other SOBs writers handle him. 

I’ll let you all know if I win that 1986 Jeep they’re running the sweepstakes for on the cover. I just mailed in my entry!

Stakeout Squad: Miami Heat (Stakeout Squad #2)

Stakeout Squad: Miami Heat, by D. A. Hodgman

June, 1995

The second volume of Stakeout Squad is about the same as the first, heavy on the firearms detail and cop-world vibe, but bogged down by a flabby storytelling structure and totally lacking the pulp charm the plot would’ve had in a men’s adventure novel of two decades before. Because in this one, friends, the Stakeout Squad goes up against – Satanists! But sadly as it turns out, these aren’t the fun pulpy Satanists you’d want, filled with hotshit socialite babes looking for some devil-worshipping kicks…instead, they are a freakish lot who get off on mutilating and murdering children. 

So already we see that damned “realism” is again invading our men’s adventure in the 1990s, aka The Decade That Killed Men’s Adventure. Author D.A. Hodgman, aka Dorothy Ayoob, is once again damned determined to buzzkill any pulp thrills, despite having a Satanic cult as the villains. She’s also already lost the plot of the series itself; the setup of Stakeout Squad is that the squad of cops, uh, stakes out places that are getting frequently robbed. But this volume the’re turned into security guards, their task to protect the families of preachers and anti-cult academics from the vile clutches of the Satanists. Only the very beginning of the novel, where super-hot Melinda Hoffritz, aka the Smurfette of the Stakeout Squad, takes out a pair of would-be ATM robbers, retains the vibe of the first volume. 

Ayoob shamelessly rides the Satanic panic bandwagon of the day, her book likely inspired by Maury Terry’s The Ultimate Evil…which also inspired Night Kill and the Psycho Squad series. Actually I just realized this book’s from 1995 (even though it seems more ‘80s), so the Satanic Panic fad was over already. It’s curious though that Ayoob already drops the series template with this second volume. When one thinks of a series grounded in realism (perhaps a bit too grounded) and concerned with a squad of cops who stake out high-crime areas, the last thing one would think of would be Satanist villains. But Ayoob does work in the mandatory Gold Eagle gun-p0rn, as these Satanists turn out to be heavily armed, their various firearms and assault weapons dutifully namedropped for us. Ayoob slightly reigns in on the overbearing gun detail of the first volume, but not much. 

However she doesn’t reign in on the awkward storytelling structure that hampered Line Of Fire. Here too forward momentum is constantly stalled by egregious flashbacks to this or that incident one of the cop protagonists previously experienced in the line of duty, or flashbacks to guns they once carried. I kid you not. There’s a part toward the end where the tension has finally ramped up, and oblivious to her own narrative Ayoob goes off on a tangent in which one of the main cops flashes back to a gun he used to carry…for like pages and pages. And plus this guy isn’t even on the scene with the Stakeout Squad members who are about to get in a firefight! I mean Miami Heat just comes off like someone who wants to write about guns and ammo and the life of a cop, but doesn’t know how to deliver it in the form of a gripping novel. 

Another curious thing is that the cover for this volume and the first volume shows white cops, however Stakeout Squad is more concerned with the black characters. There are three main figures in the group who are black, and Ayoob spends a lot of the narrative with each of them; one of them, Tom West, is a new member who grew up in the projects, giving Ayoob ample opportunity to waste thirty pages on backstory about his days as a child gang member. Presumably the blond dude on the cover is Bob Carmody, who only gradually emerges as the protagonist, or at least the protagonist who sees the most action in the finale…same as the previous volume. Not sure who the black-haired guy is supposed to be. Otherwise the other “main” character is, again, Melinda Hoffritz, who features with Carmody in the finale. And also again Ayoob dangles the idea that these two are attracted to each other, but Hoffritz constantly gives Carmody the brush-off, not wanting to get involved with a fellow cop. Remember folks, it’s Gold Eage…no sleazy tomfoolery here. 

Well anyway, we already know we’re in for a grim ride when the plot proper opens with a 12-year-old girl and her aunt getting in a fender bender with a man…who turns out to be a Satanist who has orchestrated the wreck so he can abduct the girl and murder her in horrendous fashion (off-page, at least). Later on we will see the autopsy of the poor girl and learn all the nightmarish stuff that was done to her, most of it of a sexual nature. As I’ve said before, there’s fun pulp and there’s no-fun pulp, and Miami Heat is certainly the latter. However, Ayoob’s intent here is to make the reader hate these Satanists – the reader and the Stakeout Squad both. For when they hear of these atrocities being performed – the 12-year-old is just one of a few child victims of the cult – they are all-in for taking down the satanists, even if it’s outside their normal purview. 

The cult, led by a Manson-type named Lawrence Franklin, has set its sights on religious figureheads and academics who have spoken out against Satanism. In particular, on the children of those figureheads. Stakeout Squad acts as bodyguards for the families. So in a way I guess it sticks to the series setup, with the caveat that the Squad is staking out homes, not frequently-robbed businesses. This leads to unexpected places – like stout Squad member Frank Cross getting laid. This is courtesy Dr. Jessica Wollman, one of those anti-cult academics, a brunette described as “a knockout…with a body you’d expect to see on a Penthouse cover.” Wollman, who delivers to the Squad an unmerciful fifteen-page expository info-dump on Satanism, later throws herself at Cross for some off-page lovin’, and the fool almost gets wasted when the cult attacks. A recurring series subplot is that another Squad member, Dan Harrington, is a coward, and that is proved out here with Harrington hiding while Cross is nearly killed – and, as with the previous book, none of the cops are the wiser to Harrington’s cowardice. 

Things finally pick up in the final quarter, which sees Bob Carmody and Melinda Hoffritz go undercover as Satanists. Ayoob only slightly delivers on the sleaze angle a similar plot would’ve received in a men’s adventure novel of the 1970s; the two must go “skyclad,” aka nude, and we are informed that “Melinda Hoffritz ha(s) breasts like few other women.” Indeed, to the point that her jugs make even the female Satanists gasp. Oh and I forgot – we’re also told none of the cultists are attractive, men or women. Again, it’s the buzzkilling “realism” of the ‘90s in full effect. And on that same note, Carmody and Hoffritz spend the entirety of the finale naked…and Carmody realizes at the end that he hasn’t even looked at Melinda’s hot bod this whole time! I mean so much for exploitative stuff like notes of Melinda’s “heaving, full breasts” as she runs around in the firefight, or other egregious mentions of her nude splendor. Such material has well and fully been gutted from the genre at this point in time. 

The gun stuff hasn’t been gutted, though; true to Gold Eagle form, the Satanists have taken over an old farmhouse in the woods…and it’s stuffed to the gills with assault weapons, of course. But it’s not full-on auto hellfire action, with Carmody and Hoffritz appropriating an M-14 and an M-16 and blasting away at the cultists, Carmody eventually setting off a fire with drums of gasoline. Ayoob doesn’t play up the violence much at all. In fact, she doesn’t play up much of anything at all; there is a sterile, drained feeling to Miami Heat, which again just brings to mind the vibe of the entire men’s adventure genre in 1995. 

Interestingly, the final page of the book contains an ad for The Color Of Blood, which is announced as “the final volume of Stakeout Squad.” So it would appear that this series was conceived as a limited one from the start.

Gold Eagle sunglasses, 1986

Yes, friends, that epitome of rugged masculinity in the photo above is none other than the 11-year-old me, in August of 1986 (according to the date on the back of the photo). The can of Slice in the background is just the icing on the ‘80s cake. 

I just discovered this photo in the Glorious Trash archives and thought I’d post it, because the sunglasses I’m wearing happen to be the sunglasses you received when you joined the Gold Eagle reader service. I have no idea what happened to mine or even how long they lasted; I remember them being pretty flimsy, and also I think they folded in half to be stored in a faux-leather pouch. 

This was the height of my Gold Eagle obsession – as the photo was taken I was probably daydreaming about the latest volume of Phoenix Force.

SOBs #7: River Of Flesh

SOBs #7: River Of Flesh, by Jack Hild

July, 1985  Gold Eagle

The seventh SOBs is by Robin Hardy, who previously wrote #4: Show No Mercy. In my review of that one I opined that Robin Hardy might have been…a woman! However all I needed to do was check the damn copyright page, which credits “Robin Hardy for his contribution to this work.” (Italics mine.) I obviously don’t know anything about Hardy, but his prose style seemed somewhat similar to me this time…so either I was flashing back to his style on the fourth volume or he’s ghostwritten something else I’ve read and reviewed on here. 

Now I know you all are wondering – what about Billy Two? As we recall, the previous volume featured Billy, who had been captured in the climax of #5: Gulag War, fighting his way to freedom. Billy is seldom mentioned in River of Flesh, and there’s absolutely no indication he went through anything horrific in the past few volumes. The implication is clear that Robin Hardy was not the writer of those volumes, and likely was writing his own installment concurrently. I get the impression that the stable of SOBs authors had a few characters that were “theirs,” if you know what I mean, and thus I’m guessing that Billy Two was “owned” by  Alan Philipson. 

As for Robin Hardy, his character is Geoff Bishop, a mercenary pilot who last appeared in, wouldja believe, the fourth volume, which as mentioned was also by Hardy. And hey not only that, but Bishop is also banging the sole female Soldier of Barrabas, Lee Hatton. In fact we meet Bishop just after he’s gotten out of bed with Lee; true to Gold Eagle form, it’s not like there’s actually any sex in the novel. Same goes for Barrabas, who has a steady girlfriend named Erika, based out of Amsterdam. In the ‘80s, men’s adventure heroes rarely would meet some exotic floozy while on a mission, as they would have in the ‘70s…but the authors would be sure to inform us the heroes had a steady girlfriend “back some,” so we wouldn’t think they were gay or anything. 

This one opens with a 17-page prologue set during the Vietnam War, with Barrabas determined to kill a “Cambodian murderer” named Kon. A warlord known for massacring entire villages, Kon has been an enternal thorn in Barrabas’s side, and Barrabas goes out with some Special Forces guys to punch his ticket. But it turns out to be an ambush and in the melee a fellow soldier named Scott is taken captive; Barrabas is certain he will be tortured to death, same as the other American captives Kon has taken prisoner. 

Now, all these years later, Barrabas will finally get his chance to settle the score. He’s called in by Jessup, the obese Fed who acts as the contact for the Soldiers of Barrabas, and briefed on the apparent presence of chemical agents in the jungles of Cambodia. The Feds want Barrabas and team to go in and find out what is behind this chemical nefariousness. Little does Barrabas know it is his old nemesis Kon, who now rules his own village in Cambodia, an army of Khmer Rogue under his command. But Hardy gussies up the simple plot by making the reader sympathize with Kon, at least in some regard; despite his sadism and penchant for massacring countless innocents, Kon has populated his village with those who were victims of Agent Orange. Vietnamese, Cambodians, even Americans, all of whom have suffered in some fashion (cancer, deformities, etc) from the chemical agent used by the US during the war. 

Even Kon’s little daughter suffers from a horrific facial deformity; we are informed that the children born to those who came into contact with Agent Orange also suffer from defects. So this makes the reader at least sympathize somewhat with Kon. However as mentioned he’s sadistic, and crazy to boot. And hell, even his little daughter shares his sadism, gleefully laughing as her daddy kills off entire villages of innocents while testing out his new chemical warfare. For Kon’s plan is to strike back at the US – he has put his people to work to develop a chemical agent even more devastating than Agent Orange, and he plans to pollute the waters of an American city with it. 

Barrabas is unaware of any of this, however, and for the most part River Of Flesh is more of a suspense thriller than an action onslaught. This seems to be the schtick of SOBs; each volume even follows the same setup, with Barrabas briefed on the mission, then putting his team together, training them, and then the volume climaxes with the actual mission being carried out. We even have the recurring motif of the “core” SOBs going about their normal lives before receiving the call to assemble; Liam O’Toole, the warrior-poet, will be getting into some humorous situation (this time responding to a “swinger’s magazine ad” and about to have sex with a suprisingly-hotstuff woman), and Nanos, the muscular lunkheaded one, will be getting drunk, or getting over being drunk. 

Hardy introduces what promises to be a developing subplot here with the guys, apropos of nothing, trying to knock Nanos out of his latest stupor by telling him to think of Lee Hatton – and how attractive she is. While we readers are reminded each volume that Lee Hatton is one smokin’ hot babe, apparently the actual members of the team have never actually noticed it! They think of her as just “one of the guys” and such. But after this errant comment Nanos becomes hooked on Lee, making insinuating comments to her throughout the rest of the novel. Meanwhile, Lee and Bishop are keeping their relationship secret, thus Hardy introduces the potential for a love triangle: Nanos now has the burnin’ yearnin’ for Lee, but Lee is developing feelings for Bishop. 

Speaking of feelings, Barrabas’s girlfriend Erika has a bigger role in River Of Flesh. Hardy must have been hard-pressed to fill these particular 200+ pages, as a lot of the book’s narrative concerns Erika trying to buy artifacts from mythical Angkor Wat. In fact Hardy baldly ties the two plot threads together; Barrabas gives Erika a kiss goodbye in Amsterdam and heads to Thailand for his latest mission…and runs into Erika at the hotel, as she too has come here to acquire those artifacts. Her contact is a sleazy Frenchman named Raul, who knows how to slip over the border into Cambodia. Raul also happens to be working for the warlord Kon. Only gradually does all this come out into the open, with lots of scenes of Barrabs dithering with Raul for information. 

Action is scant. There’s a part where Erika and Raul are attacked by commandos in black masks, but this turns out to be a Mission: Impossible-type ruse. In fact it occurs to me that SOBs is essentially a men’s adventure version of Mission: Impossible. I mean hell it actually just occurred to me as I was typing this sentence – Nile Barrabas even has white hair, same as the IMF team’s Jim Phelps! The difference though is that the plot builds to climactic action instead of a carefully-staged con. The finale of River Of Flesh isn’t too focused on action, though; there’s more character drama than typical of the genre, with the revelation that a core of American prisoners from ‘Nam live in Kon’s village…and might not want to leave. 

That said, there is some cool stuff, like the SOBs appropriating some of Kon’s vintage American muscle cars and augmenting them with weapons – like an M-60 affixed to the roof. But we aren’t talking a super violent thrill ride here: “gore lines were drawn across his chest” and such is about the extent of the violent carnage Hardy delivers. I also wasn’t fond of the finale. Barrabas has been determined to kill Kon for decades, but Hardy has our white-haired hero held captive by Kon’s gun while another SOB sneaks up behind the Cambodian warlord…and shoots him in the back. But at least the story ends with someone getting eaten by lions…even though this too happens off-page. 

Overall River Of Flesh was passable, however there was a bit more characterization than typical for the genre. Mostly I just wanted to find out what happened to Billy Two, after the crazy previous volume. Hopefully he will return in the next installment.

Live Large bumper sticker

From the Glorious Trash archives comes this vintage 1988 Gold Eagle bumper sticker, sporting the “Live Large” slogan the publisher used for Mack Bolan. This bumper sticker was included with the February 1988 letter I received from Gold Eagle – the one which led to another letter, from Phoenix Force author Gar Wilson. 

I thought some of you might appreciate seeing this; I meant to include it with the upload of the letter itself I posted a few years ago. Otherwise there’s no getting around that this is a filler post – things have gotten busy lately so I thought this would be a perfect opportunity to finally put up this photo of the bumper sticker…which is still in pristine condition, having been stored in that envelope for the past 34 years. 

 Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to Ebay… Just kidding.

Hostile Fire (Super Able Team #2)

Hostile Fire, by Dick Stivers

August, 1990  Gold Eagle Books

It’s not mentioned anywhere in or on the book, but apparently this was the second and final volume of a sub-series titled Super Able Team. So sort of like there was a “SuperBolan” series of extra-long Executioner novels, Gold Eagle also attempted the same thing for Able Team. But clearly it didn’t resonate, because it only lasted two volumes; there was also a “Super” Phoenix Force series that lasted four volumes. According to the copyright page, Hostile Fire was written by an author named Ken Rose, who also wrote some of the latter Able Team novels. He does his best to fill up the book’s unwieldy 346 page count. 

I discovered this one several years ago via the reviews on mackbolan.com, in particular comments around a gun Able Team used in the climax which “seemed more like the chainsaw from [the video game] Doom.” Not to mention “a crazy woman” who served as the villainess and who “likes to torture people.” So I picked up Hostile Fire, as well as the first Super Able Team, Mean Streets, which was also written by Ken Rose. I haven’t read that one yet, but no concerns because as ever there’s zero continuity. In fact, the members of Able Team aren’t even introduced or described…save for an errant mention that “Politician” Balancales has a moustache. So now finally I know that Balancales is the moustached one, “Gadgets” Schwarz is the gray-haired one, and Carl “Ironman” Lyons is the burly blond-haired one – and also Lyons is the one who usually acts as the protagonist in most Able Team novels. 

But not here; in Hostile Fire, Balancales is given the majority of the limelight, with Lyons’s part much reduced from the other Able Team novels I’ve read. As for Gadgets, he’s basically a supporting character, only contributing a few lines, though he does get to wield that unusual gun in the climax – a “handheld minigun” straight out of Predator. Technically it’s referred to as a “7.62 electric Gatling gun,” and it’s a dual-barrelled contraption complete with a power-source backpack. But curiously Rose does not much exploit the gore when it’s put to use; indeed, the novel is relatively bloodless, especially when compared to the earlier Able Team masterpiece Army Of Devils (still to this day possibly the best men’s adventure novel I’ve ever read). Another thing missing is the customary banter and rapport of the Team; in Rose’s hands, the three men almost have an antagonistic relationship, often snapping at each other. 

This could just be in this particular novel, though, because one of the themes is that Balancales goes through a sort of PTSD and starts reliving Vietnam, much to the chagrin of his comrades. Not that PTSD is ever mentioned; so far as Lyons and Gadgets go, Balancales has just “lost it,” what with his frequent declarations that Nam never ended and Charlie’s still lurking out there in the shadows and whatnot. For this reader, though, Balancales got to be pretty damn annoying, and I missed Lyons as the main protagonist. But then Balancales’s sentiments turn out to be true, as Hostile Fire ultimately concerns an army of VC setting up shop in the US, running out of Southern California and with an actual base in Oregon. In many ways the story is similar to the plot of The Hard Corps #1. 

With one difference: Hostile Fire is not an action onslaught. Ken Rose seems to be at pains to right a “standard” sort of novel, and there are only a few action setpieces. A lot of the novel has Able Team, with the help of local cop named Vong, investigating the situation and trying to figure out what’s going down. However, the final quarter-plus of the novel is comprised of a big action scene, as Able Team and a group of vets storm that VC base in Oregon. Other than that, there are just a few action scenes here and there, and none of them are of the page-filling variety. They are kind of unintentionally humorous, though, as Able Team will often break out “modified” weapons that they’ve brought along, and it gives the impression that they’re just overgrown kids trying out new toys. “Hey, let’s go check out that VC activity in California – the perfect opportunity to use my new modified M-16!” 

As a quick recap, Able Team is an “extralegal” squad working out of Stony Man. There’s not much setup here, and as mentioned no introduction nor description of the three characters. Rose doesn’t even do much to bring them to life, save for Balancales. The way it works is that Stony Man operates at the behest of the government, but separately from other agencies; there is the healthy disrespect of the CIA that is typical of a Gold Eagle publication. And, like many other Gold Eagle publications, the CIA ultimately turns out to have a hand in the shenanigans: namely, they are using a former Vietnamese general named Trang to ship heroin into California, the money being used to finance anti-communist struggles around the globe. But Trang has also brought along a ton of former VC soldiers, among them the “White Bitch,” a female commander known for torturing captives. 

When I read about this female villain in the mackbolan.com reviews, my gutter imagination was instantly piqued: I could only imagine some hotstuff Asian temptress in thigh-high boots stringing up the Able Team guys and having her way with them. But folks, not only is this a novel from 1990 but it’s also a Gold Eagle novel, so all my pulpy dreams were dashed. I mean if this setup had happened a few decades before in a Nick Carter: Killmaster novel, then sure. Here the “White Bitch,” whose name is Phom-do, is barely even described, let alone exploited. About all we get is that she wears a white uniform and has an “angular” face. There’s absolutely none of the exploitation one would expect, and per usual it’s all handled relatively “realistically,” with Phom-do just a sadist with a proclivity for torture, and nothing more. Hell, she doesn’t even get her hands on the Able Team guys. 

Action as mentioned isn’t as overwhelming as I expected it would be. More importantly though, the few action scenes have more the vibe of military fiction. Rose really rams home the “Vietnam never ended” motif, with Able Team venturing into humid Orange County environs and Balancales having flashbacks to ‘Nam. At one point they’re even attacked by VC with mortar. And yes, they are VC, complete with black pajamas and everything. The finale too has a military fiction vibe; it isn’t so much Lyons or Balancales or Gadgets gunning down the enemy in glory splendor as it is various fire teams going off to engage the VC. What I mean to say is the action lacks the personal touch you’d expect of action novels and instead concerns various “soldiers” going off into the fray – and these are literally soldiers. In one of the novel’s more interesting subplots, Able Team puts together an army of veterans who were tortured by Phom-do decades ago. 

But it all just lacks the pulpy touch I thought it would have. It’s 1990, it’s Gold Eagle, so all the pulp has been carefully erased. “Realism” is the key here, despite the fact that we have an army of Viet Cong operating on US soil, complete with a tunnel network. The only thing that has not been erased on the pulp spectrum is the racial angle: the phrase “Gook Town” is used repeatedly in the text, but it’s the local Asians who use it so that’s okay. Seriously though, the phrase recurs throughout the book, referring to the section of Orange County with a heavy Vietnamese presence; here too Rose plays out his “Nam never ended” theme, with Able Team walking around parts of “Gook Town” with street vendors hawking bowls of noodles and rock music blasting on cheap radios. That said, this must be the only men’s adventure novel that mentions Fine Young Cannibals and Milli Vanilli(!).

I always appreciate unintentional prescience in old novels – stray dialog or narrative that seems to predict our miserable modern world. Thus I was amused by this comment, by a CIA agent who is working on the heroin pipeline scheme: 

This seems particularly relevant today. (And let’s not forget about Europe!) Yep, the “Reds” sure have cut off our oil supply… 

Otherwise the writing is fine; Rose has a skill for moving the plot and doling out just enough personality for his one-off characters. Unfortunately the Able team guys come off like ciphers, especially Gadgets. Balancales gets too much narrative space, which is unfortunate because he really got on my nerves. And also the female villain could’ve been a lot more exploited, but at least she’s delivered a fitting comeuppance. At the very least Hostile Fire made me want to read Ken Rose’s other Super Able Team, 1989’s Mean Streets.

Stakeout Squad: Line Of Fire (Stakeout Squad #1)

Stakeout Squad: Line Of Fire, by D.A. Hodgman

February, 1995  Gold Eagle Books

This short-lived Gold Eagle series from the mid-1990s only amounted to three volumes, and about ten years ago I picked up the last one in a used bookstore. I kept meaning to read it, but eventually decided I should check out the other two installments first. And, judging from Line Of Fire, Stakeout Squad might be a series that has a bit of continuity. 

First of all, a big thanks to Paul Bishop for the outing of “D.A. Hogdman:” when I got that last volume years ago there was zero info available on who Hodgman really was. But thanks to Paul, who credits “reader Phil Wong,” we now know it was an author named Dorothy Ayoob. So yes, a rare instance of a woman writing a men’s adventure series. However Ayoob is in no way comparable to the only other female men’s adventure writer I’ve yet read, Marilyn Granbeck, of Blood and The Peacemaker. In fact there was absolutely no giveaway I could detect in Line Of Fire that the author was female; there’s only one major female character in the book, and she isn’t focused on as much as the male characters. What I mean to say is, there’s none of the wussification of Granbeck’s “action novels.” 

But then, there’s hardly any personality at all in Line of Fire. There’s absolutely no spark, and the novel could almost have been written by a robot. A robot programmed to love guns. Like, really love guns. I mean we all know how Gold Eagle books go for overbearing gun-p0rn. Line Of Fire takes the excessive gun-detailing of the average Gold Eagle publication and uses that as a starting point. I swear to Zod, folks, this book is flat-out obsessed with guns and firearms and ammunition and holsters and Kevlar, to the extent that I was almost in a daze. 

Paul’s blog post notes that Dorothy Ayoob was the wife of Massad Ayoob, who had “a regular column in American Handgunner magazine.” Phil Wong apparently noticed the similarity between this column and the work of “D.A. Hodgman” (who also wrote another three-volume series for Gold Eagle, Code Zero), and he asked Massad Ayoob himself if he was Hodgman. Wong certainly was barking up the right tree, as it turned out Massad acted as the technical supervisor for Dorothy’s writing. This then explains the nitty-gritty obsessive detail about guns throughout Line Of Fire. I mean even simple stuff that would be rendered as “he holstered his gun” in an average book is detailed pedantically here, noting how the gun is “on-saftied” before being stored in a specific holster – there’s even more brand-naming than in the average installment of The Survivalist. 

Well anyway, I’ve been on a cop novel kick lately so figured I’d finally check out this series. I was a bit put aback by the length, though: each volume comes in at 330 or so pages. And also note how the volume numbers have been dropped from the covers. My assumption is Gold Eagle was trying to branch away from the men’s adventure series that had been their stock in trade for the past decade-plus and wanted to market this series as “real books.” Whatever the behind-the-scenes reason, Line Of Fire was the first volume, Miami Heat the second, and The Color Of Blood the third. 

I think continuity might be more pronounced than the average Gold Eagle series because only one author worked on Stakeout Squad, and also this first volume introduces the characters and the setup. Now one thing I can say about Dorothy Ayoob is that she’s one of the most “on-theme” authors I’ve ever read. The book details the formation of a Stakeout Squad in Miami, its first big assignment to take down a violent gang of bank robbers, and Ayoob sticks to this theme throughout the book; there are hardly any attempts at bringing any added dimensions to any of the characters or the settings…and even the frequent flashback material sticks to how these characters became cops (or criminals). This is what I meant about the narrative not having any spark. The dialog is for the most part wholly expository, with characters even talking about guns, or why they became cops…I mean the theme is central throughout, with no one coming off remotely like a real person with varied interests. 

And there are a lot of flashbacks. Indeed, the novel would be a lot shorter if you took out the obsessive gun detail and the frequent flashbacks. It’s a bit hard-going because forward momentum is nil. And given that the novel is populated with several characters, this means that we get flashbacks for each of them – not to mention the various criminals. It’s a weird way to tell a story and very much at odds with the average men’s adventure novel. However Ayoob’s writing isn’t bad, and one can certainly tell that she met with several cops who gave her a lot of insight. I mean the novel definitely succeeds in showing how tough it is to be a cop, with little in the way of gratitude from the public or politicians. 

Given the 1995 publication date, the political correctness which ultimately led to our modern miserable age of identity politics is present. This is mostly in the form of the commander of Stakeout Squad, Lt. Ken Bartlett, a black man who, per his long flashback sequence, never liked being a cop, and indeed looks down on guns. We’re told how he used identity politics to climb his way up the ladder, not to mention the occasional publicity bit. But all the while he avoided real cop work, and looked down on the people he was supposedly protecting. There’s even a part where he introduces “sensitivity training” for the white cops. I mean the novel is very prescient in this. 

But this bit also demonstrates the lack of spark in Ayoob’s narrative. Now Bartlett hates being a cop, and he thinks the Stakeout Squad is a bad idea, and he’s against cops carrying guns and all that. All this we are told basically as soon as the character is introduced, via long-winded flashback. So the potential is there that this character will be a thorn in the side of the Stakeout Squad, maybe their nemesis who constantly tries to disband them. We even learn he’s a “liberal Democrat” whose wife – a black lady who also uses identity politics to climb the legal ladder – nags at him for “thinking” he’s a cop. But folks by the time the flashback sequence ends, Bartlett has decided “You know what, maybe I’ll start wearing a gun and be a real cop for once!” I mean the entire promise is just gutted before the flashback has even come to a close…and from then out Bartlett, who only minimally appears in the narrative, is just your basic commander. 

Another bit of prescience is the focus on “officers of color,” as the saying would go today. The Stakeout Squad itself is the brainchild of John Kearn, recently-appointed Police Commissioner, a black man who started off as a cop in New York decades ago. There’s a lot of material on the real-world Stakeout Squad that operated in New York in the ‘60s. In particular we learn how the original New York force was disbanded due to claims of racism, given that all their victims were black. (The fact that black criminals were committing all the crimes was irrelevant, of course.) The novel really takes on a dry, nonfiction-esque tone for these “history lesson” portions, not helped by the expository dialog. In fact “dry” really sums up Line Of Fire, despite which the novel has several action scenes. It’s just all relayed without the spark one gets from typical men’s adventure. In other words, it is as humorless and devoid of fun as the average Gold Eagle publication – it’s just too serious for its own good. 

But Ayoob seems to be committed to the project. She populates the novel with several characters, meaning that there isn’t one the reader can hold on to. The main character of the novel, and perhaps the series, seems to be a young blond-haired cop named Bob Carmody…who, wouldja believe, happens to be a firearms instructor. I mean folks I am not exaggerating when I say that the vast majority of the narrative is concerned with guns, guns, and more guns. Firing them, wearing them, reminiscing about guns used in the past, the types of ammo for them, just on and on. Well anyway, Carmody is a helluva shot and has become the instructor for the newly-formed Stakeout Squad, but he personally has never shot a suspect and secretly wonders if he’d be able to. Spoiler alert: as expected, Carmody gets his chance to do this very thing – but Ayoob doesn’t even follow through on the dramatic thrust of it. In fact Carmody features in the Hollywood-esque finale, using his sharpshooting skills in memorable fashion, but the entire scene is played without any drama. 

Another character who somewhat surfaces from the pack is the sole female on the Squad, Melinda Hoffritz, a hotstuff and stacked “blond” who joined up due to sexual harrassment from her former chief. And yes that’s “blond;” we’re in the ‘90s now, so oldschool “blonde” for females is considered sexist. I still use the term, though; in fact I think it’s kind of brilliant in differentiating between the sexes…not that I actually know the difference between the sexes, of course. I mean I’m not a biologist! Well anyway it seems like Carmody and Melinda might become an item someday…or at least they would be if this series had been written a decade before (and by a man, dammit!)…but that’s just my suspicion. They work together in Line Of Fire and even share the climactic showdown. 

There are other characters besides, like a cop who panicked on the job and caused his partner to get killed, but due to various misunderstandings was given a medal for “bravery;” another cop who has a wife and kid back home; a cop with a big chip on his shoulder; and others besides. Guess what: the members of the Stakeout Squad are introduced at target practice! I mean it’s very impressive how Ayoob sticks with the “guns” theme. But the thing is, the characters come and go, so it’s not like your typical men’s adventure series where you have the same group of characters to root for. In that matter the villain of the piece gets more narrative space: John Blaisdell, the head honcho of the Shotgun Gang. 

In a plot reminiscent of the first episode of Police Woman, the Shotgun Gang is hitting banks in Miami. Oh I forgot to mention: Stakeout Squad is set in Miami, which I found interesting because one can’t help but think of Miami Vice, given that this series is also focused on cops. But Ayoob never acknowledges that show, nor even really brings the setting to life. Other than mentions of the heat or the Metro-Dade police force, the novel could just as easily take place anywhere else. Well anyway the Shotgun Gang is hitting banks, and there’s a cool Tarantino-esque gimmick where Blaisdell has given each member of his gang a codename that’s based on the shotgun he uses: ie Moss, Savage, etc. This I thought was the most clever way Ayoob worked the gun obsession into the narrative. 

So like that Police Woman episode, the Stakeout Squad ultimately goes undercover, posing as tellers in banks they think might be hit next, with backup forces prowling nearby in case a hit happens. The Shotgun Gang is especially brutal; we meet them in an opening where they hit an armored truck, killing everyone, and later on they gun down women and children in various hits. But the Stakeout Squad gets off on shaky footing when a pair of preteens, inspired by the Shotgun Gang, try to hit a bank with plastic guns (well, one of them sneaks in a real gun), and the undercover Squad members gun them down. The ensuing public and media backlash is enough to almost kill the Stakeout Squad before it has even gotten started. 

There are several action scenes, with the Squad going up against some of the Shotgun Gang, but these scenes too are written without much spark. I mean there’s nothing the reader feels vicariously as the two forces go against one another, as Ayoob is more focused on the shooting posture the cops assume as they engage in their firefights. Or how they obsess over their new Glock .45s, which are more powerful than the 9mm Glocks they used to use. I mean incidental stuff like this is the focus of Line Of Fire, not the drama or action stuff, so you can see how someone might have thought the novel was written by a columnist for a firearms magazine. 

Ayoob strives for realism throughout. There are no extended action scenes, and for the most part they are over and done with fairly quick. There’s also not much gore, other than a part where the cops view some of the victims of those shotguns. There isn’t much police work, either, but then that’s not the Stakeout Squad’s role. They aren’t detectives figuring out who is pulling the hits; they’re a tactical squad who stakes out banks, ready to shoot down any would-be robbers. The break in the case comes due to happenstance, when one of the robbers, thinking he’s about to die, starts giving the details on where the Gang hides out. This sequence has a memorable bit where the father of a severely-injured child slips past the cops and puts a gun to the bastard’s head. And speaking of which, true to Gold Eagle norm there are many chapters detailing the subplots of various one-off characters. 

Despite the bulky length of 320 pages, Line Of Fire was a pretty quick read. Of course it was even more quick given that I skimmed a lot of the gun details. Ayoob does a good job of bringing the reader into the formation of the Stakeout Squad, but as the novel progresses this setup is lost and it’s more concerned with one-off characters getting into various gunfights. In other words the center is somewhat lost. Even Blaisdell sufers; he starts the novel calm and collected, and there’s a cool idea that he had “the best education” in prison, where lifers gave him the in-and-outs of various schemes and heists. But as we near the climax Blaisdell becomes more of a nutjob with little control of himself. And yet for that matter the novel never goes fully batshit crazy, which would have greatly helped matters. “Tepid” is the best word I could use to describe it; competently written, but just missing something. 

So if the other two volumes are the same there’s little mystery why Stakeout Squad failed to connect with readers. Regardless I’m a slow learner, so even though I found this one tepid I’m still looking forward to the next volume, Miami Heat, which features the Squad up against…a Satanic cult! 

As for Dorothy Ayoob, judging from this obituary she “passed away peacefully in her sleep” in April of 2021. Given that Massad Ayoob (who is still alive) is not mentioned in the obituary, I’m assuming the two must have been divorced. And I also assume this is the same Dorothy Ayoob, given that she lived in New Hampshire, which is where Massad Ayoob apparently lives.

SOBs #5: Gulag War

SOBs #5: Gulag War, by Jack Hild

March, 1985  Gold Eagle

Alan Philipson turns in a fast-moving installment of SOBs that’s basically the setup for the next volume. It would probably be best to read these two novels back to back, but I read that fifth installment years ago so my memories of it are few. I do remember feeling like I was missing out on a large part of the story, but at the time it was the only volume of the series I had. (I later got the entire series for a pittance…like ten bucks or something.) And no wonder I felt like I was missing out on a large part of the story, because this fifth volume has all the material I was missing out on. In reality the two volumes really just tell one long story. 

What I found even more interesting is that Philipson is at pains to spoof the genre this time. There are a few mockings of The Executioner throughout the book. First, redheaded Liam O’Toole, the warrior poet of the group, has a meeting with a publisher in New York. O’Toole thinks it’s because they want to print some of his poetry, but in reality it’s so the publisher can introduce him to the author of the “adventure for men” series The Obliterator. In his designer military boots and with his artificial tough guy appearance, author Malcolm Strangways is intended as a spoof, but surely not of Don Pendleton. I got more the impression of someone like Mark Roberts. O’Toole makes fun of one of the novels – pointing out an incorrect firearm detail on the cover and also mocking some of the narrative. He ridicules the entire action-adventure genre – and the people who write it – and leaves, turning the publisher down cold. And later in the novel, another character jokes that he learned about something “from a paperback.” Anyway, I found this genre-spoofing kind of interesting, as it’s very out of line with the average Gold Eagle publication. 

But then, SOBs itself is unusual so far as Gold Eagle goes. As I mentioned before, it’s too bad I didn’t read the series as a kid, even though I dutifully collected it (which was easy, as I’d get a copy every other month as part of the Gold Eagle Reader Service). I’m not sure I would have appreciated it, as the series is more carefully constructed than most, with more of a focus on characterization and world-building. And as mentioned there’s also a subtle underlay of satire. But then, none of the characters here have the memorable spark of the guys in Able Team or Phoenix Force; indeed, it’s kind of hard to tell the SOBs apart, and also there seems to be a new guy every volume. This obviously gives the series a bit more suspense than those other Gold Eagle series, as it means the characters are more expendable than the recurring heroes of those other Gold Eagle series. 

Another thing I get about SOBs is that each novel mostly seems to be setup. While there is occasional action, for the most part these books are more about establishing the situation, assembling the team for this particular mission, and then carrying out the mission in the final quarter. So there’s a bit more plotting than the genre average. I also get a bit of a ‘70s vibe from the books, and I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just because there seems to be a general rebellious vibe to the series, and it’s likely the subtle genre spoofing that’s making me get the impression. Or perhaps I’m just imagining things. There’s also a bit more continuity than the typical Gold Eagle books of the era; there’s this senator who has a grudge against the SOBs, particularly after being paralyzed below the waist after the climactic events of the previous volume. Indeed it is he who tasks SOBs handler Wakler Jessup with this latest mission, which is practically suicidal. 

And speaking of plotting, Gulag War is so complexly plotted that I couldn’t really fathom what the setup was. Basically it’s a two-pronged mission in which the SOBs are supposed to venture into Siberia and spring an imprisoned Russian scientist, Leonov, from a gulag. But at the same time another group of SOBs will sell a bogus tank mainframe to GRU representatives, trying to use the GRU-KGB rivalry to get themselves into Russia. If I understand it all correctly, the SOBs plan to fool the GRU into thinking they are getting this newfangled tank mainframe gadget, and in exchange the GRU will give the SOBs safe passage to Siberia. Or something! But the gist of it is that head SOB Nile Barrabas plans to swindle the GRU and escape them in Siberia, free Leonov from the gulag, and escape to safety. 

Central to this plan is a “bush pilot” with the memorable name Chank Dayo; he is the newest SOB, and has gotten the gig from Billy Two, the American Indian SOB who stars in the next volume. Dayo is an Eskimo, and also has a pet bear. I can’t even remember much about him from the next volume, but Philipson again doles out some subtle genre spoofery with Dayo telling Billy Two that he, Dayo, is certain he’s going to die on this mission. This to me seems like Philipson perhaps making fun of how all the new guys die. Otherwise Dayo doesn’t contribute much to the tale, and indeed the entire premise of his intro is rendered moot when the SOBs do get to Siberia…and the one plane available is of a type Dayo has no familiarity with. So they have to kidnap a Soviet pilot and have him give Dayo some on-the-job training. 

As with previous volumes, a good portion of the opening half is devoted to setting up the various characters and getting us into their everyday lives. There’s also time-wasting stuff about Leonov’s miserable lot in the Siberian gulag. As ever the book is too long; it seems that a gimmick with SOBs is that the books were around 220 pages long, which is a bit longer than the average and again is a measure of how they were more devoted to plot than action. We also get stuff on the peripheral figures in the world of the SOBs, ie the guys who don’t even go on the missions, like obese Walker Jessup and the Dutch siblings who are part of Barrabas’s life – the Dutch guy who runs the rock club in Amsterdam and the Dutch guy’s sister who is in love with Barrabas. (Obviously I failed to note their names.) I recall both playing a part in the ensuing volume. 

The first real action scene is tied in with the belabored plot; in Rio, SOBs Claude and Nanos set up the trade with the GRU, and then get in a running gunfight with State Department agents. Nanos has to reconcile with the fact that he’ll be killing American agents, but this is settled for him when they start shooting at him. One hallmark SOBs shares with the overall Gold Eagle line is a healthy disrespect for the American intelligence agencies, in particular the CIA, which is consistently portrayed as a nefarious shadow agency in most all Gold Eagle novels. But I found this negative portrayal of the State Department interesting from a modern-day perspective. Otherwise this is it for Claude and Nanos in the novel; they hand over the mainframe and get in a long fight with State Dept. agents, and meanwhile a separate faction of SOBs take on the second half of the mission. 

This portion takes up the majority of the narrative. The team who handles this greater-risk assignment is Barrabas himself, super-hot brunette Dr. Lee Hatton, Liam O’Toole, Billy Two, Chank Dayo, and Nate Beck (the computer guy). Again it’s more on the suspense tip as they fly to Moscow, and then with a GRU escort they head on to Siberia. Here we meet Baladin, the sadistic GRU boss who factors prominently in the next volume, given that he’s out for revenge for what happens to him here. Actually the reader would have no idea Baladin even survives this volume; last we see of him, Lee Hatton has literally ripped Baladin’s balls off (even stuffing them in his pocket!) and has left him for dead. This leads to yet another Executioner piss-take, when Lee sneers to Baladin, “Stay hard, guy.” I seem to recall “Stay hard” was a Bolan maxim (despite the juvenile way I’ve always interpreted the phrase), and in fact it might have even been on a bumper sticker Gold Eagle included as part of the Reader Service. (Or maybe it was “Live large?”) 

At any rate, the SOBs are pretty ruthless here. Lee deals with Baladin so cruelly because he not only gave her a thorough (and off-page) body cavity search, but also because he tried to force himself on her – something he boasts of doing to many other women. Lee’s emasculation is not only revenge for herself but for the other women Baladin hurt. However her attack sets off a veritable massacre of the other GRU; the SOBs kill several of them in their sleep, slitting throats and shooting them dead. “Killing commies with commie bullets,” as Billy Two puts it. The GRU murdered, our heroes commandeer the sole plane here and take it to the gulag, where they intend to save Leonov. We get a bit of a Rambo II prefigure when they end up rescuring even more emaciated, half-dead prisoners. 

As readers of the series know, Billy Two is pretty much the star of the next volume, which details his escape from the Soviets. Interestingly the SOBs think Billy is dead; he’s separated in the action to free Leonov, and the group sees him hit the ground while being shot at. Dr. Lee even gives her expert opinion that Billy’s dead – though she can only see his “corpse” off in the distance. Readers learn though at novel’s end that Billy has survived, the prisoner of Russians who intend to drug him. Also, Barrabas realizes the entire mission was a waste, as Leonov has been rendered a nutcase, spouting nothing but gibberish on TV. 

Another new gimmick added to the series is a running gag on how much of an “s.o.b.” author Jack Hild is himself. Gulag War closes with two facetious “letters from readers” on the fictitious Hild…fake letters from fake readers about the fake author, which is about as postmodern as this imprint ever got: