107 American Nightmare by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

"JUST GIVE ME MY CLOTHES!" Bolan demanded. "There's nothing wrong and I'm leaving."

"Get back in bed, Mr. Belasko," the nurse said. "No one leaves this hospital until he's released by his doctor. You've had a head injury."

"I'll leave when I'm damn well ready!"

"Is that any way to speak to a lady?" came a voice from the doorway.

Bolan turned to see Hal Brognola standing in the doorway, grinning.

"Did you just happen to be in the neighborhood?"

"No," Brognola admitted, moving in to sit on the bed. "Albuquerque's usually not on my rounds." He nodded to the nurse. "Dr. Doolin wants to see you. Leave the clothes."

The woman nodded and disappeared immediately.

Bolan got into his pants, then walked into the bathroom and stared into the mirror over the sink. He examined his swollen eyes and the bandage that covered the top of his head. He called back to Hal. "I want to get back on the trail before it gets cold."

"No," Brognola said, coming to stand in the bathroom doorway.

"What?"

"I said, no. You're not getting back out there to look for Freon. Something else has come up."

"What?" Bolan asked. "And where are my guns?"

"You sold the program well, Mack," Brognola said, moving back into the room and stretching out on the bed. "Everybody believes that Freon is a terrorist and that Jake Torrance is his next target. It's logical that you, then, should be placed in charge of Torrance's security. He's stumping in the California primary and refuses to come off his list of commitments. California could put him over the top for his party's nomination, and he won't pull back."

"If I'm in the field, I could get Freon before it got that far," Bolan replied. "Where are my guns?"

"Looking for these?"

Bolan turned to see Joan in the doorway, her arm in a plaster cast, Bolan's combat harness draped over a shoulder.

"How are you?" Bolan asked, moving to take the weapons from her. "I hear they had to cut you out of the wreckage."

"Well, I'll never be able to look a pretzel in the eye again," she replied, "but basically I'm just a little the worse for wear. I'm better than Tomlinson, at any rate. I agree with Hal, by the way. If you go with Torrance you can just wait for Freon to come to you. Besides, if you don't, that leaves Trevans in charge of security."

Bolan slipped into the combat harness. "I can't do it, Hal. You know—"

"The country's gone nuts over this thing," Brognola interrupted. "We couldn't keep something like this locked up. It's all over the media. Meanwhile, Kaddafi is screaming that much louder that he's innocent. He's now blaming the U.S. government for setting this up as more disinformation to discredit him. We need you, Striker. The President personally authorized me to give you anything you need to carry this off."

"What's the President going to do about Kaddafi?"

Hal sat up, running a hand through his thinning hair. "What can he do? At the moment, the denials make it pretty tough to act.

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