Assault Force (Executioner)
Don Pendleton
Language: English
Pages: 224
ISBN: 0373643314
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
ARMED INTERVENTION When a hotel in Barcelona comes under siege by religious fanatics, innocent guests are suddenly caught in a nightmare to be played out on the world stage. The situation is unraveling fast amid the mounting chaos of blood and fear-even as an American hostage waits for his chance to turn the tide of slaughter. Mack Bolan knows what his captors are capable of; he has stared many times into the rabid eyes of zealots and witnessed the fires of commitment to a warped cause. Judging by the seamless takedown of the premises, he realizes he's up against consummate professionals who are ready for anything and will stop at nothing. But the enemy has made a fatal mistake: They let the Executioner live.
dancing across the monitors, autofire flaming to cut off exits, with other short bursts mowing down several guests in their tracks, warning other infidel packs to freeze where they sat or stood. Or die. It was impossible to mentally digest the frenzy of action exploding before his eyes. Even more impossible, he knew, would it be to guard every exit, window or door down each hall and stairwell, or post sentries at every corner, nook and cranny. Going in, though, all operators had understood and
airports, bus terminals, ports, all were shut down. Striding to the end of his black command and control van, he wished he could get up close and personal with the bastard. He was hatefully aware his slung Z-84 subgun and holstered 9 mm Star pistol were as useless as promises from a politician. Alvarado weighed the dire predicament, assessing strengths and weaknesses, what he knew. What he didn’t know was more than enough, however, when it came to holding back a lightning commando storm of the
hard part. Eventually determination would give him the raw strength necessary to pry his hands apart the deeper he cut. And then? They had bound right hand over left. There was just enough overlap to spare so he could dig the edge of the glass in, saw with the leverage of his fingers. Each puny dig and slice burned hope hotter, though, urging him on. It felt like a double wrap, the binding sheer silk, but that hardly made it any easier or quicker to slice. It was a grueling, agonizing chore, no
believed. It was a charnel house, bodies of men and women strewed all over the place, clear from foyer to the bay window overlooking the Mediterranean. Why one or several of them had gone berserk Talliman couldn’t say, nor did he care if they volunteered their reasons. He was in a world of trouble himself, but he was still alive. He was queasy at the moment, all that fear doing a tap dance on his churning stomach as he tried but failed to not breathe in the coppery taint of so much spilled blood.
maybe just hold off World War III, not to mention his favorite mistress and one of his lieutenants getting whacked tonight. You getting the picture here, or do I have to draw it and connect all the dots for you?” Bolan felt the scowl harden his face. “I’m thinking you’re not in the game for all the victims, past, present and future, al-Hamquadra will consume in his legacy before someone checks him out of this world. Nor do you much care if the Serb crime boss gets his pound of flesh.” Harmon