Flight 741 is a 1986 adventure novel featuring Mack Bolan who is also known as the Executioner. Bolan was created by Don Pendleton many moons ago. I think the author of this particular one is a guy named Mike Newton who is given some sort of credit on the copyright page.
Anyway, this is obviously a leisure read in the extreme. It’s a fun indulgence but nothing too surprising here.
Mack Bolan is a super antiterrorist operative who has appeared in numerous novels probably about thirty to forty years ago. He was part of the men’s adventures range of Gold Eagle publishing. Each book had a significant body count because Bolan was not one to bother with courts and trials when it comes to terrorists.
In this particular installment, Mack Bolan is traveling under an alias from Munich to New York when his flight gets interrupted by a hijacking. He takes a pretty brutal beating when trying to save a flight attendant from certain indignities. Once the ordeal is over, Bolan is thirsty from some good old-fashioned vengeance. Unlike the most people, Bolan is more than capable of getting it. He embarks on a pursuit of a known terrorist who goes by the moniker of “the Raven” and finds this guy to be quite elusive, especially since he employs body doubles. He comes across an old flame who is no stranger to this type of danger, and his ruthless hunt is now tempered by his desire to keep another girl safe from aforementioned indignities. Anyway, Bolan is justifiably angry, and a group of crazy hijackers and their sponsors have well earned their executions.
So, the Mack Bolan series is not something to stimulate the higher intellects of the world. It is brutal and can really crank up the testosterone levels if one has an overactive imagination. It’s great even if the writing is not the best. No one is going for the Pulitzer here.
I liked the book because most of it is the aftermath of the hijacking and how Bolan settles the score. There are different perspectives, and the reader gets some more insight into the history of the villain as well. It’s still great when Bolan catches up to him and lives up to his own codename.
There are some efforts to flesh out supporting characters which I appreciated. There was some display of tenderness from Bolan when it came to his lady friend, Toby Ranger, who end up in danger. Bolan is the good guy, so that was not surprising, but it did lend itself to giving some depth. In spite of his more brutal proclivities, there is a sense of gallantry I can respect.
This isn’t a great novel by any means. The genre doesn’t quite lend itself to that, but it was enjoyable enough to make it likely for me to pick up another Mack Bolan escapade in the near future.
My next step on the pleasantly unending literary journey brings me back to Edward Rutherford with his novel of historical fiction entitled Paris. I had read London some time ago and enjoyed it, so I think I will see what his take on the City of Light.
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