Arizona Ambush by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton [Pendleton, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Vietnam War; 1961-1975, Arizona, Mafia, Bolan; Mack (Fictitious character), det_action
ISBN: 9780523401669
Publisher: Pinnacle Books
Published: 1977-04-15T17:38:28+00:00

Chapter 11

The message

Hinshaw's voice was tense, taut — dangerous. "From the top, Angel. What went sour?"

"It all went sour, Jim," Morales replied with a disgusted gesture. "I think it started sour. It was a suck play straight from the jungle book."

"You said a rocket attack?"

"Yeah. They sucked us into a horseshoe slot, then layed into us from the high ground. There was no way to save it. I'm damn lucky I got out. Poor Floyd ..."

Hinshaw kicked the desk and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Bastard!" he growled. "He must have tumbled to the telephone tap. How cute. Did you eyeball the bastard?"

The little Latin shook his head and said, "All I eyeballed was them damn rockets whooshing down from the heights. He's got some kind of fancy firepower. Forget them fucking LAWS, this was big stuff. More like guided missiles."

Hinshaw muttered, "So he's teamed up with Kaufman."

"Looks that way," Morales quietly agreed. "You know what this means."

"Yeah," Morales said, sighing. "And we're running about 70 percent casualties as of right now, man."

"So what are you reading?" Hinshaw growled.

"I'm reading scratch," the surviving lieutenant replied. "We can't pull it now. Not without reinforcements anyway."

"You ready to tuck your tail?" Hinshaw asked heavily, "and slink back to Tucson? You ready to face the old man with that?"

"You should've seen what I faced a little while ago, Jim. Listen. That guy deserves his reputation."

"So does Bonelli," Hinshaw said worriedly.

"Well, shit." Morales threw up his hands and walked nervously about the room waving them as though seeking applause from some invisible audience. "This is crazy. I say we call out the hole card and tell them all to go to hell."

"Not yet," Hinshaw said. He gnawed on his lower lip for a moment, then added: "We can still pull it out, maybe." His eyes gleamed with silent speculation, then: "There's a million bucks on Bolan's head. Right?"

"You know why the bounty is a million?" Morales inquired quietly. "It's a million because the meanest guys in the mob haven't been able to take the guy. That's why. I wish you'd been out there with me awhile ago. I wish you had."

"He's just a soldier," Hinshaw mused. "What the hell, Angel ... he's just another soldier."

"Go tell that to Floyd and B Troop," Morales replied bitterly. "With a cool million on his head."

"Shit."

The debate was interrupted by a knuckle rap at the door. A squad leader poked his head in to report, "We got company." His gaze flicked to the window. "You better see."

A big guy in Levi's was standing outside the fence, jawing with a sentry.

Hinshaw turned from the window to scowl at the squad leader. "What is it?"

"He walked in. We spotted him about three minutes out. Walking the phone line. He says we got trouble. Do we have trouble?"

Hinshaw picked up the telephone, listened to it for a moment, then put it down and said, "Yeah. Sounds like eggs frying on there. Dammit! No wonder I got no-how long has it been out?"

The squad leader shrugged.

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