"Oh boy!" he says, grubby hands pawing the new Repairman Jack novel. He couldn't wait after Gateways. He'd been a little disappointed by The Haunted Air, but Gateways had restored his faith big time. And Crisscross was about to do the same, even more so. If you need to catch up on your Repairman Jack books, do so before reading this one. If you've never read one, get thee to a library or bookstore, sir or madam! Set aside a weekend and catch up with The Tomb, Legacies, Conspiracies, Hosts, All the Rage, The Haunted Air, and Gateways. Then read The Keep (and the other Adversary books). When you're ready, come to Crisscross knowing that F. Paul Wilson is at the top of his game. Jack as a character is at the point where he is about to fulfill his potential. For the uninitiated, Jack fixes things. But not toasters and televisions. He fixes situations, problems the law can't or won't fix. He fights injustice his own way, a loner's way. Sometimes as a lone gunman. Jack doesn't exist, not officially, but soon he'll have to because he's about to become a father. The problem is excruciatingly drawn out—how to become a member of society in a post-9/11 world in which he'd almost certainly be flagged a terrorist? But his even bigger problem is the role reserved for him in an ages-old battle between two forces, the Ally and the Otherness. Jack is somehow a knight in this chess game, or a "Jack" in the card game. He has been forced into combating dark forces even though he cannot truly understand the conflict.

In Crisscross, Jack's already complicated life gets worse. Impending fatherhood changes the way he looks at things. Weird women with dogs have been giving him oracles. Now his Gia's pregnancy has become mysteriously dangerous, and Jack's two current fixes predictably crisscross. He knows that there will be no more coincidences in his life. Still, what could connect a pious nun who's being blackmailed to an elderly mother who wants to contact her rich, cult-enslaved son? The nun had a momentary lapse of religion, while the son tried to find his. Both have opened the door to something they don't understand, but Jack does—and he can fix it. Both fixes are separate. But, of course, they are not. Boy are they not!

Jack comes crashingly face-to-face with the Church of Dormentalism (think Scientology mixed with the Moonies and a healthy dash of new age), a wacky but lucrative step-program ascension to the Great Fusion (don't ask). Jack's acting and identity-shielding skills come in handy, but his new ally—a tough, straight-shooting tabloid reporter who's delved enough into Dormentalism to have ruffled their feathers considerably—is in more danger than she thinks. The Sister Margaret fix involves computer flim-flam and B&E, no problem there, but a rabid dog has been kicked awake and Jack will have to put it back to sleep. Saying more here would likely ruin one of those rare novel experiences, where you can't wait to turn the page but you dread doing so because a) something bad will happen, and b) you are closing in on the end.

F. Paul Wilson continues to refine his transparent, unassuming style, and the seamless blending of two streams (his Adversary and Repairman novels), tightening their connecting strings ever more and in gripping fashion. Wilson's (and Jack's) near-Libertarian attitudes seem on the verge of replacement with a sense of responsibility for loved ones and for humanity itself, counter to Jack's self-imposed exile from society. These novels provide immense entertainment value while subtly tweaking some of our long-held convictions. With Crisscross, the only disappointment comes with reaching the last page and having to wait for the next installment.