Bad Deeds: A Dylan Hunter Thriller (Dylan Hunter Thrillers) Paperback – May 30, 2014

In all great fiction, plots turn not on arbitrary outcomes of physical conflict, from chance occurrences or from the idle, momentary whims of characters, but rather on deeply-held values and convictions, from moral dilemmas arising from conflicts with those values, moral choices made amid those dilemmas, and the dramatic consequences which flow from them, whether for good or for evil. The fact that so much of contemporary fiction comes across as flat, forgettable trivia (much like "reality" programs on television,) is a sad commentary on the fact that moral choices are all but alien to contemporary American writers. There are philosophical causes for this - skepticism, relativism, subjectivism - but I needn't go into them. Just pick up a good critique of those philosophies and connect the dots.What an absolute joy then, to encounter fiction in which not just one or two, but *every* significant plot point hinges on values, on moral dilemmas, on moral choices. Bidinotto's "Hunter," and now "Bad Deeds," are veritable feasts of the classic Morality Play.Folks, there is a reason why even classic television shows like Serling's "Twilight Zone," "The Alfred Hitchcock Hour" and the original "Star Trek," have endured as story collections treasured by generations, decades after their initial broadcast runs. Despite the fact that the production values may be primitive by today's standards, they retain their value because the story at the core of virtually every single episode is a Morality Play, a parable of: Values - Moral Conflict - Moral Choices. Far beyond mere range-of-the-moment entertainment, the Morality Play gives audiences a moral lesson, a kind of Aesop's Fable, to ponder and maybe even to apply in their daily lives, well after the fact. And that is the real purpose of literature in any form and in any era: to teach and to inspire as well as to entertain. Mr. Bidinotto hits it out of the park on all three, in both "Bad Deeds" and in his debut "Hunter."In "Bad Deeds," both Dylan Hunter and his life-love Annie Woods (and make no mistake, Dylan Hunter is a man in love, in a big way,) face life-altering moral dilemmas and make some hard choices on principle - for incredible dramatic effect. Much like Jack Reacher in Lee Child's novel "The Affair," Hunter has the option of walking away from a conflict that really doesn't concern him directly, thereby saving himself and Annie from danger - if only he's willing to turn his back on deep-seated convictions. He doesn't take that option. (And yes, Annie too faces a hard decision, and her choice - stand-up-and-cheer material - makes me wonder if Mr. Bidinotto isn't paving the way for some Annie Woods spinoff novels in the future, like Robert Crais' Joe Pike?)Hunter and Woods take a getaway in their forest cabin to unwind from the horrifying climactic events told in "Hunter" - and find themselves smack in the middle of a war that a cult of eco-terrorists is waging against an oil company that's harnessed the breakthrough "fracking" technology. The immediate injustices done to the oil workers and their families by the terrorists spill into Hunter's and Woods' lives; as trained professionals they deal with the attack with extreme - and justified - prejudice. And find themselves to have become targets as a result. Hunter does some digging, and discovers a much wider and more sinister conspiracy at work...Bidinotto's research and understanding of every element woven into his narrative - misanthropic "deep ecology" and eco-terrorism, hydraulic fracturing ("fracking") technologies, political corruption, crime and punishment, basic economics and the philosophy of man on Earth - give his tale, again, a depth of authenticity that is as palpable as it is rare. If a story is analogous to a body, that background knowledge is its skeleton, its framework. I'm happy to report that it's rock-solid here. True to the Morality Play form, you will learn some vital lessons in this book.A key scene in "Bad Deeds" is one in which Hunter and Woods are discussing the beauty of the scenery before them in context of the eco-terrorist villains they face, and Hunter names the issue with laser-like focus:"'Environmentalists think beauty and meaning is out there. But it isn't out there.' He pointed at her eyes. 'It's in there... Without us, the entire universe is just clusters of meaningless stuff. It's our awareness of the world, our interpretation of it, that gives it beauty and meaning...Without an intelligent beholder, there is no beauty in nature. And no meaning... But environmentalists say ...? That beauty can somehow exist without our eyes to see it. That meaning can somehow exist without our intelligence to make sense of things. That nature is somehow `valuable in itself'-- without anyone to value it.'"It's the concept of "intrinsic value" that Pepperdine economist George Reisman analyzed so well in his seminal 1990 "Toxicity" monograph. I've come up against the same thing in science documentaries like Sagan's "Cosmos" and countless science fiction stories: The idea that contemplating the inconceivable vastness of the universe is supposed to be "humbling" and should always make one feel "like an insignificant speck." From the nights in my Midwest childhood when I'd climb up to the flat part of my parent's rooftop, lay flat on my back and memorize the constellations, I've always hated that premise's militant illogic, dishonesty and implied misanthropy, for exactly the reasons Bidinotto's "Hunter" identifies. They've got it exactly backwards: What gives nature its majesty and beauty is precisely the evaluative faculty of the human mind contemplating it: human comprehension and evaluation of the very concepts of ...majesty and beauty. A great philosopher once said that before one can say "I love you" one must first know how to say the "I." When I wonder at the beauty and vastness of the universe, or just the beauty of a mountain landscape, I never forget the "I" in "I wonder."Without human cognition, the evaluative concepts are nonexistent, hence the contradiction - and misanthropic evil - that drives the eco-terrorist worldview. So thank you, Dylan Hunter - and Robert Bidinotto - for underscoring that vital point.The wider plot in "Bad Deeds" encompasses power-politics, and the phrase "Could've been pulled from today's headlines" doesn't even scratch the surface here. With the Solyndra scandal, the recent, unconscionable theft of Andy and Ceil Barrie's mountain property in Colorado via "eminent domain," the Obama Administration's recent theft of half a million acres of land in New Mexico via designation as a "national monument" (his latest of *eleven* such confiscations to date,) the similar, gargantuan land-thefts by government under the Bush and Clinton Administrations, and the looming atrocity that is the "Agenda 21" regime under the "United Nations" that's driving it all - committed under motives indistinguishable from gutter eco-terrorism - this novel couldn't be more timely and relevant. The villains in "Bad Deeds" are not just militant Luddites, they're well-heeled politicians and financiers with an unspeakable agenda, and this fictional story couldn't be closer to real-world events.A note to people new to the world of Hunter: "Bad Deeds" makes numerous references to the events that transpired in "Hunter," so it is advisable to read the debut novel first, which is a happy assignment, given that "Hunter" is a spectacular read - if it's your first dive into Bidinotto's fiction, I envy you the journey you're about to take. Bidinotto is on a roll - so let me say it again: Bravo!.

BAD DEEDS, the second in Bidinotto's "Dylan Hunter" thriller series, delivers another strong tale that skillfully weaves several threads into a coherent story of corruption, love, risk, and, of course, vigilante violence.If you've been paying any attention to the world these days, the plot involving moneyed and powerful D.C. interests using enviro-fanatics to advance their sinister agenda is not a stretch of the imagination at all. There are a handful of scenes and concepts that do require some suspension of disbelief -- but hey, it's a novel, not a CIA fact sheet. The main story didn't have a lot of mystery to it from a reader perspective, but it was interesting to watch Hunter put the pieces together nonetheless. And watching the bad guys get their comeuppance from Hunter is always a treat.I'm not a huge fan of the love story, but it is integral to the secondary plot, and it was satisfying to finally see Annie live up to her CIA creds. As usual, Hunter was everything he should be: super-smart, anticipatory, tough as nails, wry, resourceful, uncompromising. While many of the supporting characters were straight out of central casting, they filled their purposes well, in terms of telling the morality play that Bidiotto was shooting for. Boggs was a nice exception -- despite his asinine and fanatical philosophy (yes, there are really people who think like him), he had some nice nuanced aspects to his background and narcissistic temperament (highly intelligent, but blinded by ideology; violent and sadistic, but a fearful weakling; charismatic leader, but painfully insecure; psychopathic, but actually convinced of his own righteousness). Some of these characteristics made him an apt foil for Hunter because Boggs was, in some ways, who Hunter could have become in the absence of a moral compass.I think the book may have been a little long -- could've been trimmed up and made just a little tighter. The pace was generally pretty riveting, but it did have more than a couple of dry patches where it slowed. Still, I kept turning those pages, knowing it would pick right up soon -- and it never disappointed.Robert Bidinotto is a very talented writer, and I would love to see what happens next in this series.(For those interested, this book included more profanity than the last, but the author still manages to avoid crossing over into rated-R land. More foul language than I like personally -- I am a prude -- but certainly appropriate for the subject matter and characterizations.)

Bad Deeds is a worthy successor to Hunter. The novel held my interest throughout, delivering lots of twists and turns.

Well-paced, well-plotted and well-told, but not anything like as good as Book 1

Couldn't put it down. I love Dylan and Annie. Such good plots and so well written. Can't wait for the next instalment

Hunter und Ann frühstücken gerade in einer Bar, als drei Angestellte eines Fracking-Unternehmens hereinstürzen, gejagt von Umweltaktivisten. Natürlich macht Hunter kurzen Prozess mit den Jägern. Als Journalist interessiert er sich für die Umstände der Auseinandersetzung und fängt an zu recherchieren. Dies führt ihn bis nach Washington mit seinen Machtspielen und Intrigen.Abgesehen von einigen unnötigen Klischees hätte "Bad Deeds" ein passabler 4-Sterne-Thriller wie der erste Teil der Hunter-Serie sein können. Stattdessen musste Robert Bidinotto der Geschichte eine deutliche umweltpolitische Note geben und hat sich dabei nicht mal ansatzweise bemüht, objektiv zu sein. Seine Kernaussage ist: Erneuerbare Energien sind schlecht (Solaranlagen sind hässlich, Windkraftanlagen töten Vögel) und Fracking ist gut (weil sauber und ohne Auswirkungen auf die Natur). Dass es beim Fracking u. a. um die Förderung von Erdgas und damit fossile Energie geht, findet in seine Argumentation keinen Eingang.Und noch so eine von Bidinottos Schlüssen: Hersteller von Solar- und Windkraftanlagen sind nur gierig und wollen viel Geld verdienen. Dass wirtschaftliche Interessen ein Grundprinzip der Freien Marktwirtschaft sind und auf alle Unternehmen zutreffen (auch Fracking-Unternehmen oder Mineralölkonzerne), scheint er zu verdrängen.Für meinen Geschmack ist "Bad deeds" das dümmste Buch seit Michael Crichtons "Welt der Angst", wo der Klimawandel heftig dementiert wird.Fazit: Von Bidinotto habe ich die Schnauze voll. Der dritte Hunter-Teil kann ohne mich stattfinden.

The wait for the second in the Hunter series was well worth the wait Robert.that being said, hurry up with number three!