242 Doomsday Conspiracy by Don Pendleton

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

IT WAS TIME to reach out and touch the German business mogul.

Bolan had ordered Tielig to give his employees the day off, told him to be waiting in his office alone. Tielig was as dirty and savage as the men he fronted for. He didn't pull the trigger on a weapon, but he aided their operation, giving them transport, providing them contacts and services in the World Bank Center, helping them to channel illicit funds into shell companies. After some interrogation to get a clear fix on the enemy's current movements and plans, Bolan intended to use Tielig as walking bait to reel the enemy in.

As ordered by Tielig through Bolan, the parking attendant had allowed them to roll past the gate and into the underground garage without a ticket or any hesitation. Tielig's suite was on the top floor. According to Stony Man Farm, the building was owned by the World Bank Center. Built two years ago, it was the nerve center of varied businesses that were bankrolled by the WBC. They ranged from a computer hardware outfit, a travel agency, to the brokering of gold and diamonds down to an accounting firm. Behind the facade of legitimate business, Bolan knew other endeavors such as arranging the smuggling of contraband, were working overtime.

Grimaldi drove deep into the belly of the garage, winding the van around a ramp to the bottom level. Bolan looked over his shoulder.

"I didn't see anything that looked like a tail on the way in," Grimaldi said.

Bolan fixed the sound suppressor to his Beretta. He took out his handheld radio. "I'll leave it on. If there's trouble..."

"I'll be there."

"Cuff our friend after you park."

Grimaldi found a slot at the deepest end of the garage. He backed the van in, killed the engine, then snapped the cuffs on Jackley.

"What are you going to do?" Jackley asked Bolan. "Start killing legitimate businessmen?"

"Tielig's helped you people get around. By boat and plane. He was in on that drug deal. Indirectly he helped kill a lot of people, most bad, but some good."

"I'm thinking, Striker," Grimaldi said, "if it goes south, well, being stuck in this garage and having to face the German police may be the start of a major headache for us."

"I hope to keep it simple. This is a roundup. I'll give Tielig the only option available. Play ball or he's out of the game. Either way, be ready for anything."

Bolan scoured the garage. At the moment they were alone, but nearly all the parking spaces were full. It was too still, too quiet at that hour for Bolan's liking. Combat instincts were flaring. He had a feeling they were being watched, but couldn't pinpoint any shadows or occupants in vehicles.

Of course, he had no idea what he would find upstairs. He didn't think the enemy would be lying in ambush in a public building. They had too much to lose to get embroiled in a gun battle with the German police. Still Bolan and Grimaldi had them on the run, scared and desperate.

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