{"product_id":"bad-actors-isbn-9781641294584","title":"Bad Actors","description":"\u003cb\u003eTHE EIGHTH BOOK IN THE \u003ci\u003eNEW YORK TIMES\u003c\/i\u003e BESTSELLING SERIES BEHIND \u003ci\u003eSLOW HORSES\u003c\/i\u003e, AN APPLE ORIGINAL SERIES NOW STREAMING ON APPLE TV\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eMick Herron, “the le Carré of the future” (BBC), expands his world of bad spies with an even shadier cast of characters: the politicians, lobbyists, and misinformation agents pulling the levers of government policy.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“Confirms Mick Herron as the best spy novelist now working.”—NPR's \u003ci\u003eFresh Air\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIn London's MI5 headquarters a scandal is brewing that could disgrace the entire intelligence community. The Downing Street superforecaster—a specialist who advises the Prime Minister's office on how policy is likely to be received by the electorate—has disappeared without a trace. Claude Whelan, who was once head of MI5, has been tasked with tracking her down. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut the trail leads him straight back to Regent's Park itself, with First Desk Diana Taverner as chief suspect. Has Taverner overplayed her hand at last? Meanwhile, her Russian counterpart, Moscow intelligence's First Desk, has cheekily showed up in London and shaken off his escort. Are the two unfortunate events connected?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOver at Slough House, where Jackson Lamb presides over some of MI5's most embittered demoted agents, the slow horses are doing what they do best, and adding a little bit of chaos to an already unstable situation . . . \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere are bad actors everywhere, and they usually get their comeuppance before the credits roll. But politics is a dirty business, and in a world where lying, cheating and backstabbing are the norm, sometimes the good guys can find themselves outgunned.\u003cb\u003e\u003cu\u003ePraise for \u003ci\u003eBad Actors\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/u\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eNominated for the Barry Award for Best Thriller\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA \u003ci\u003eWashington Post\u003c\/i\u003e Best Mystery \u0026amp; Thriller of 2022\u003cbr\u003eA CrimeReads Best Espionage Novel of 2022\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003eCrimeReads Best New Crime Fiction for May\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What spurs me to keep reading each new installment is Herron’s absurdist voice, which could devolve into cheap cynicism but never does. That’s why the Slough House denizens, from Jackson Lamb to Roddy Ho to newcomer Ashley Kahn, maintain pathos in the face of parody—they may be bitter, but they have pride in themselves and their work.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Sarah Weinman, \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eThe New York Times Book Review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“This motley group would never be mistaken for James Bond, but they could easily be compared with the paper sales staff of \u003ci\u003eThe Office\u003c\/i\u003e . . . Herron mixes dry humor, musings on British and global politics, and superbly developed characters.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Oline Cogdill, \u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eThe South Florida Sun-Sentinel\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Herron's plots are masterpieces of convolution and elegant wrong-footing. Beyond that, his action scenes are fast-paced and thrilling—there are a couple of high-octane doozies in this installment. But the real draw of the series is its dark, dark humor . . . One of the most enjoyable series I have ever read.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Katherine A. Powers, \u003ci\u003eMinneapolis Star-Tribune\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Eight novels in, Herron’s Slough House books prove he’s one of the best and wittiest writers to follow in the tradition of Len Deighton and John le Carré . . . The twists and fights are both bloody and funny and done with Herron’s own spy lingo, which gives it all panache. In short, a delight.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Margaret Cannon, The Globe and Mail\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Just as good as its predecessors . . .The magnificently gross but also frighteningly shrewd Jackson Lamb is one of the espionage fiction’s great characters.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Laura Miller, Slate\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“More proof that, though there may be spy novels with sentences as impeccable as Herron's, it's unlikely there are spy novels that are also as funny . . . Exemplary.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Shelf Awareness, Starred Review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sensational . . . Herron brings his inimitable style to cat-and-mouse action and continues with his vivid portrait of the so-called ‘intelligence’ world.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—CrimeReads\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Highly entertaining.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Seattle Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A send-up of contemporary British international espionage that turns a jaundiced, droll eye on the undercurrents and corruption of government.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eForeword Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e“\u003c\/b\u003eIf le Carré brought moral ambiguity to the spy novel in place of Bondian glamour, Herron one-ups the master by showing us that ambiguity has its uncouth comedic side.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred Review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An outstanding mix of arch humor, superb characterizations, and trenchant political observations.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred Review\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cu\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePraise for the Slough House Series\u003c\/u\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Intricate plotting, full of twists . . . Herron can certainly write a real spy story, with all the misdirection and sleight of hand that requires. But it’s the surly Slough House mood, the eccentric characters, and Herron’s very black, very dry sense of humor that made me read one after the other without a break.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Laura Miller, Slate.com\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I'll tell you what, to have been lucky enough to play Smiley in one's career; and now go and play Jackson Lamb in Mick Herron's novels—the heir, in a way, to le Carré—is a terrific thing.”\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e—Gary Oldman\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Confirms Mick Herron as the best spy novelist now working.”\u003cb\u003e\u003cbr\u003e —NPR's \u003ci\u003eFresh Air\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Compulsively readable, tightly plotted.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Times\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Out of a wickedly imagined version of MI5, [Herron] has spun works of diabolical plotting and high-spirited cynicism, their pages filled with sardonic wit . . . Happily for Mr. Herron—if alas for us—events continue to produce rich material for his special gifts, and we hope he is scribbling away making good use of it all.”\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Wall Street Journal\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Heroic struggles, less-heroic failures and a shoot-out-cum-heist . . . with no let-up in the page turning throughout.”\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eEsquire\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e“The best in a generation, by some estimations, and irrefutably the funniest.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e—Jill Lepore, \u003ci\u003eThe New Yorker\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “Herron’s strength is in examining at close hand the absurdities, conflicts, and dangers of the intelligence agency as an institution at the center of some of the most central conflicts in the 21st century.”\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLos Angeles Review of Books\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “Unbeatable entertainment for thriller fans.”\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e —Library Journal\u003c\/i\u003e, Starred Review\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eMick Herron\u003c\/b\u003e is a British novelist and short story writer who was born in Newcastle and studied English at Oxford. He is the author of the Slough House espionage series, four Oxford mysteries, and several standalone novels. His work has won the CWA Diamond Dagger for Lifetime Achievement in Crime Writing, the Gold Dagger for Best Crime Novel, the Steel Dagger for Best Thriller, and the Ellery Queen Readers Award, and been nominated for the Macavity, Barry, Shamus, and Theakstons Novel of the Year Awards. He currently lives in Oxford and writes full-time.The woods were lovely, dark, and deep, and full of noisy bastards. From his foxhole Sparrow could hear the grunting and thrashing of combat, of bodies crashing through foliage. Some things breaking were branches, and others might be bones. Sound travelled more cleanly in the countryside. This might not be true but it was interesting, which mattered more. Sound travelled more cleanly, so what he was hearing could include the fracturing of legs and fingers as well as splintering twigs. His foxhole wasn’t constructed; was simply a ditch in which he’d secreted himself while the opening sallies played out. The initial clash of armies was where you lost your cannon fodder. Once the dumb meat had been carted from the field, war passed into the hands of the thinkers.\u003cbr\u003e      Something clattered overhead, in a tree’s topmost branches. Only a bird. Meanwhile, battle continued: two forces of roughly equal size, blatant weaponry outlawed but anything that came to hand regarded as fair use. Sticks and stones for instance—and any experienced foot soldier had a favourite stick, a favourite stone, within easy reach when the starting whistle blew. Time, date, place, courtesy of social media. The old days, when you just rocked up to a car park near the stadium a few hours before kick-off, all of that was buried in history books and Channel 5 documentaries. Sparrow himself had been a toddler. Interesting, though: people thought, because they didn’t see football fans rucking in public anymore, that it didn’t happen. Just knowing that much about human nature was like having a big shiny key.\u003cbr\u003e      It was an education in itself, exploring the depths of other people’s ignorance and gullibility.\u003cbr\u003e      Some shouting in the near distance now. Nothing as coherent as words: just the familiar Esperanto of grunt and injury, the outward expression of a hatred that was absolutely pure and totally impersonal. Amateur violence signalled national character. Just as the French variety, with its short jabs and rabbit punches, seemed as crabbed and hunched as French handwriting, so English violence had the hallmarks of a ransom note: capital-lettered and often misspelt, but getting the message across. As for Italians—today’s opponents—they rucked the way they sang, their brawling round and bold and big-voiced, and if not for a relatively small turnout, they’d wind up kings of the woods today. Benito—the new Benito, whose predecessor had interestingly withdrawn from public view—would have led his troops away rejoicing. But that didn’t, from what Sparrow had seen so far, look likely.\u003cbr\u003e      For his own part, his interest was clinical. Untethered to any football team, he was nevertheless fascinated by the loyalties they inspired, regardless of history, abilities and triumphs, or lack thereof. By the \u003ci\u003eTill I Die\u003c\/i\u003e tattoos supporters sported. This was a self-fulfilling promise, one that couldn’t be reneged on without expensive laser treatment, and demonstrated the kind of drive that pre-empted second thoughts. And once you got a handle on it, you could steer it in any direction you chose. Aim it at a rival set of fans or . . . elsewhere.\u003cbr\u003e      From deep among the trees Sparrow could feel an approaching beat, not as stealthy as it thought it was, and underneath that a more primal rhythm, one close to Sparrow’s heart. In the breast pocket of his camo-gilet, in fact: the thrumming of his mobile phone.\u003cbr\u003e      With the unhurried ease of a gunslinger he slipped it free of his pocket. “You pick your moments.”\u003cbr\u003e      The crashing came nearer; the sound of a large, urban type imagining it was possible to be silent in a wood.\u003cbr\u003e      “Oh, you know. Day off. I like to get close to nature.”\u003cbr\u003e      Excuse him a moment, he thought but did not say, and instead of listening to whatever his caller said next, fastened the phone into a Velcro-secured sheath at shoulder level, so he could speak and be heard and mostly hear, a long-established set of priorities. That done, he settled into a crouch and wrapped both hands round the stubby branch from which he had stripped all unnecessary twigs and leaves.\u003cbr\u003e      “Okay, this is the usual daily bullshit, nothing to worry about. Just because there’s a problem doesn’t mean we need a solution. We simply reframe the narrative. Hang on a sec.”\u003cbr\u003e      A figure crashed into Sparrow’s clearing and halted, scanning the terrain. Being of average height he was easily four inches taller than Sparrow, an advantage in most hostile situations except those where both parties have testicles but only one is wielding a club. Sparrow’s caught the newcomer sweetly in the crutch. He made a noise like a baby seal and collapsed in a heap.\u003cbr\u003e      “Yes, or dispense with the narrative altogether. This time tomorrow it’s yesterday’s news . . . No, I’m fine. Just doing some stretches.”\u003cbr\u003e      While his caller launched into a soliloquy, Sparrow focused on his immediate situation: weapon in hand, fallen warrior at his feet, trees everywhere . . .\u003cbr\u003e      \u003ci\u003ePlanet of the Apes\u003c\/i\u003e. \u003cbr\u003e      He prodded his would-be attacker with a foot, eliciting a groan, then noticed the silence on the line.\u003cbr\u003e      “. . . Yeah, still here. And I have ideas, don’t worry. You know me. Ideas is what I do.”\u003cbr\u003e      Which was as well, because Anthony Sparrow had some work-related issues of his own that he’d rather his caller didn’t know about. Some, though, might be alleviated by discussion with Benito once the more aggressive aspects of the afternoon’s agenda had been settled. The fact that you were mortal enemies didn’t mean you couldn’t do business. If that were the case, you’d never get anything done. Besides, Benito was a fellow alpha. Sparrow mostly worked among malleable idiots, so it was something of a pleasure to negotiate on his own level.\u003cbr\u003e      Speaking of malleable idiots . . .\u003cbr\u003e      On closer inspection, he noticed that his victim wasn’t one of Benito’s crew at all, but on Sparrow’s own side. Still, there he was, prone and useless, and Sparrow holding a club.\u003cbr\u003e      His caller was still talking, so he tapped a finger against his phone three times, a signal both knew meant the conversation had passed all useful purpose. Then waited a moment.\u003cbr\u003e      “Not at all. What I’m here for.”\u003cbr\u003e      He waited some more. And then:\u003cbr\u003e      “Yes, prime minister. See you in the morning.”\u003cbr\u003e      And, call over, Sparrow raised his club and brought it down as hard as he could, and then again, and again, until this anonymous creature was where all his opponents ended, dumb and dusted at his feet.","brand":"Soho Crime","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46299704295653,"sku":"NP9781641294584","price":19.95,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9781641294584.jpg?v=1767722099","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/bad-actors-isbn-9781641294584","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}