Published by W. W. Norton & Company on May 5, 2020
A CIA cyberintelligence agent named Michael Dunne is assigned to infiltrate a group called Fallen Empire, which is suspected of engaging in WikiLeaks-like activities. The main person of interest is an American named Jason Howe who claims to be running a news organization. The CIA regards it as an enemy intelligence service, in part because it is assisted by a team headed by an Italian computer nerd. Dunne understands that the assignment is probably illegal and against CIA policy because (1) the CIA isn’t supposed to spy on Americans and (2) the CIA has promised not to mess with journalists. But the DDO, George Strafe, assures Dunne that the CIA will have his back so he breaks the law anyway.
Before the operation goes sideways, Dunne falls into a honeytrap and finds himself on the wrong end of a video camera with his pants down. After the operation goes sideways, the video gets sent to his wife (whose image is also deepfaked into a separate salacious video) and Dunne is prosecuted for a couple of federal crimes. Dunne’s pathetic excuse for a lawyer wants him to plead guilty before he conducts an investigation. The only good advice that the lawyer gives Dunne is to apologize for being a bad boy at sentencing. Dunne does just the opposite, protesting that his misfortune is all the fault of his superiors, which predictably results in a year in prison rather than probation. He loses wife and daughter and emerges from prison a bitter man, but at least he has connections.
Dunne starts his own cybersecurity firm and promptly makes it his mission to seek revenge. His primary targets are Howe and Strafe. Along the way he discovers a scheme to disrupt financial markets using nasty technology, including the deepfake tech that was used against his wife. The plot is a moderately interesting variation of stories that have told many times before.
I assume David Ignatius wants the reader to feel some sympathy for Dunne, but I felt none. He broke the law and blamed his bosses for his decision to do what he knew was wrong. Then he fell into an obvious honeytrap and blamed the people who videoed him. Only rarely and reluctantly does Dunne acknowledge that he is at least partially responsible for his own misfortunes. Just a few chapters into The Paladin, I gave up caring about Dunne. He constantly portrays himself as a victim, but he’s primarily a victim of his own selfishness and stupidity.
Near the novel’s end, I thought Ignatius might be setting up a truly daring ending, but the actual ending is predictable. The Paladin moves quickly and the story isn’t dull, but a mediocre plot, a disagreeable protagonist, and Ignatius’ lackluster prose offer little reason for thriller or spy novel fans to spend time with the novel. The Paladin isn’t an awful book, but there are better choices.
RECOMMENDED WITH RESERVATIONS