123 War Born by Don Pendleton

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

10

"What's Stuart Wingate involved with?" Bolan asked.

Wessel didn't bother to reply, merely staring at the dark streets ahead of them.

Reaching across the seat with a big fist, Bolan grabbed the arms dealer by the lapels of his jacket. "I want to know what's going on, Wessel, and I think you know something. Somebody else must think you know something, too, because whoever is tailing us didn't follow me there. They were watching you tonight. I don't think they're just hanging around to help you count your winnings. I know Stuart Wingate sent his son down here to get ordnance from you, ordnance that's geared for a specific mission. I don't think you're the kind of guy who'd let something as mysterious as that pass under your nose without a pointed question or two. Even if Wingate didn't tell you everything, I think you found out somehow. I know a CIA section chief named Rolfe did, because he's been busy trying to cover everybody's ass on this deal. My bet is that those are his men behind us. Men he assigned to plug any leaks on your end. How does that sound so far? Maybe I should stop and let you try to talk your way out of this with them. But I think you stand a better chance with me."

Nervously Wessel wiped his mouth with a handkerchief. He craned his neck so that he could see into the rearview mirror.

Bolan took a right at a stoplight, barely coming to a full stop. The Toyota's driver didn't make a move but under the streetlight Bolan was able to see at least one more man in the car.

"Talk," Bolan ordered.

"Who are you with?" Wessel asked.

Bolan pulled the lapels hard, off-balancing the fat man, then slammed his head into the window on the passenger side. "I'm with me." the Executioner said, "and right now I'm with you. If you want to keep it that way, start talking. I can put most of it together myself, and if I have to, I can take my questions somewhere else."

Wessel wiped his mouth again, fear etched into his features.

Bolan cut into the inside lane, driving toward the neon lights of the center of civilization, hoping the men were under orders to keep force to a minimum in populated areas.

"He's being blackmailed," Wessel said.

"How?"

"His first son, the one who died in Vietnam, he left a son over there. Wingate didn't know about it until a week ago."

Bolan's stomach tightened. "How did you find out?"

"I have contacts everywhere. The man who's holding Stuart Wingate's grandson—Solly Taggert—brokered the exchange through one of my contacts. I had to pay a lot for that information. Wingate repaid me when I helped him check the story out."

"And it's true?"

"Yes."

"Lee Wingate is going to make the transaction?"

"Yes."

"And what's the price?" Bolan asked. The Toyota was still behind them, following at a leisurely pace.

"The Star Wars plans," Wessel said.

"And Wingate is going to go through with it?"

"Yes. He loved his first son more than life itself.

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