A lot can happen in twenty years.
In the case of Jack Shepherd, he’s witnessed more than most could bare.
In The Laundry Man, we see that Jack has ‘abandoned the savage politics of Washington for the lethargic backwater of Bangkok where he is now just an unremarkable professor at an unimportant university in an insignificant city.’
In Killing Plato, Jack is still is a ‘politically connected American lawyer .’ But when he walks into a bar ‘on the jet-set island of Phuket and finds the world’s most famous fugitive waiting for him,’ Jack’s life takes a turn for the worse.
In A World of Trouble, ‘Thailand is hurtling closer and closer to a bloody civil war.’ And the only person who is likely to stop it is Jack Shepherd.
In The King of Macau, Jack Shepherd is a lawyer, ‘but he doesn’t much like to admit it.’
See, he’s evolving and working out of his office above a noodle shop on Hollywood Road in Hong Kong. He’s still working ‘quietly to solve the problems his big-money clients don’t want anyone else to know they have.’
In Don’t Get Caught, Jack Shepherd is still the kind of lawyer ‘people call a troubleshooter. At least that’s what they call him when they’re being polite.’
Somewhere in between the books, he’s lost his wife to another man. He was the last to hear about it. He’s saved a country from a civil war. Dodged bullets in Dubai. And now his past is coming back with a vengeance.
He’s changed as with the flow of time, he’s more weathered and jaded.
That’s all expressed in Don’t Get Caught. It’s twenty years of Jack Shepherd’s life crammed into one book. It’s a ball buster in so many ways.
Take a trip down memory lane, where the present clashes with the past. This is nostalgia at its grittiest. Yet it’s anchored in the present. Time teaches us a few things. History tends to repeat itself, in a myriad of repetitive flourishes.
Don’t Get Caught is one man’s Heart of Darkness into greed and nebulous madness. And Jack Shepherd wants no part of it.