Mr. Gobscheit, by Avery Mann, follows semi-retired American naval officer and diplomat Mark Jamison, happily tucked away with his wife Sarah in Angel Landing, until an early-morning call from his old friend Foggy Gorgarty yanks him back into the world of espionage and geopolitics. Jamison is quickly reactivated by US naval intelligence and dispatched to Dublin under diplomatic cover, notionally to advise on safeguarding the undersea fiber-optic cables that make Ireland a digital hub, and less openly to nudge the country toward NATO membership. Once in Ireland, he finds himself reporting—at least on paper—to Jack Gobscheit, a vain, corner-cutting defence official whose celebrity stems from having “persuaded” Moscow to remove a loose Russian nuclear device from Irish waters near the AE6 relay station. Jamison, Foggy, and the American naval attaché Tom Harrington slowly uncover the truth behind that device, a Russian trawler snooping around the cables, and a web of connections linking the Irish ministry, the Russian embassy, and a powerful transatlantic surveillance contractor—culminating in a high-stakes play that weaponizes undersea infrastructure, media leaks, and public outrage to reshape Ireland’s debate over neutrality and NATO.

I enjoyed how unabashedly character-driven this thriller is, even when it’s neck-deep in technical and political detail. Jack Gobscheit is drawn as a kind of tragicomic embodiment of mid-level power: smug, lazy, eager for status, and entirely willing to trade national security for a slice of a Kremlin-backed hotel empire. His partnership with Russian political operator Sergay Markov, their pilgrimage to Putin’s seaside dacha at Gelendzhik, and Jack’s golf-course alliance with a very recognizable American president give the book an almost satirical energy; the scenes where global security is haggled over between tee shots or glossed in translation so Jack can focus on his future casinos are darkly funny and slightly chilling.

On the other side, you have Foggy–wry, loyal, quietly competent, and his complicated entanglement with Jack’s wife Sally, whose affair doubles as a human-scale melodrama and an ingenious way for NATO to keep eyes on a man who might be selling out his country one memo at a time. That blend of farce and genuine menace worked for me: nobody here is a flawless superhero, but you can feel how venality at the middle tier of government can be just as dangerous as malice at the top.

The novel grounds itself in real-world developments: Snowden’s revelations about NSA cable taps, Medvedev’s explicit threat to treat undersea cables as legitimate wartime targets after Nord Stream 2, the expansion of Russian espionage in Dublin, and the role of big tech data centers in Ireland’s economy are all woven into the narrative. I appreciated the topicality. This really is a thriller of now, not some abstract Cold War rehash. Long passages walk the reader through the architecture of ONI’s technical centers or the economics of Ireland’s data-center boom. The book earns its techno-thriller label with a real sense of dread. I just occasionally wished for one less paragraph of explanation and one more scene of Jamison actually wrestling with the moral cost of his schemes.

I’d recommend Mr. Gobscheit to readers who gravitate toward geopolitical thrillers, techno thrillers, spy novels, and political satire stories, especially anyone curious about how vulnerable our invisible infrastructure really is. If you like the mix of policy detail and moral ambiguity in a Tom Clancy novel, but wouldn’t mind a sharper, more ironic eye on bureaucratic ego and transatlantic dysfunction, this will feel pleasantly familiar. For me, Mr. Gobscheit is a timely, slightly barbed thriller that proves undersea cables and Irish neutrality can be just as gripping as missiles and moles.

Pages: 181 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0DYV66C5L