No James Bond smoothie knocking off the baddies and knocking up the birds, Liz Carlyle's character is far more down to earth, far more credible. The women in the book don't fall about screaming when they see something iffy, but get on with the job. Mind you, the blokes in power are often represented as arrogant tossers--the male equivalent of the cardboard hysterical woman, the kind of people we all recognize from the workplace.
The pace of the story is good and fast, making the book something of a page-turner. Just don't compare Rimington with Le Carré, yet.
Some voyeurs might whinge at the lack of sex scenes in the story, but such scenes would only have delayed the important stuff, weakening the tale.
Rimington is certainly improving as an author and spinner of yarns. Good for her. Knowing the Service as thoroughly as she does, she must surely be at great pains not to tell too much, not to give away some "useful" information, lest she be branded "another Peter Wright". But within the limits of what she can safely divulge, she presents us with a credible view of some aspects of work in MI5. If anything's missing, it's the sheer drudgery of some of the analytical work. But who'd be interested in that?
Good on yer, Stella. Keep 'em coming.