Deadly Payload (Stony Man) by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton [Pendleton, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Harlequin Enterprises

THE EXECUTIONER WRESTLED with the Russian giant, his forearms clamped around the titan’s throat in a death grip. Normally, Bolan was strong enough to break a man’s neck from this position, but the Russian’s neck muscles were simply too powerful.

With the strength of a grizzly, the giant flipped Bolan off his shoulders with a single shrug and kicked him in the face. Only razor-sharp reflexes kept the blow from tearing Bolan’s skull from his shoulders, and even then, he was left dazed by the impact. On automatic pilot, he clambered back and away from the massive killer.

Unfortunately, in two strides, the huge Russian was right on top of Bolan and wrapping a huge paw around his throat. The Executioner caught sight of his Desert Eagle out of the corner of his eye and stretched for it, but the mighty hulk lifted Bolan with one hand and hurled him twenty feet down the tiled corridor, away from the massive pistol. The Russian stooped and picked up the Desert Eagle, making the foot-long hand cannon appear like a pocket pistol in his huge paw.

“Such a cute little gun,” the Russian said. “It almost fits me like a glove.”

Bolan got to his hands and knees, blood drooling from a busted lip. The Russian leveled the Desert Eagle, but the Executioner didn’t flinch as the gun jerked in the giant’s paw. He’d left the .44 Magnum weapon on safe, locked and cocked. It would take a moment for his powerful opponent to figure out how to desterilize the pistol and put a bullet into Bolan. In that time, the Executioner reached into his sheath and drew his coffin-handled Bowie knife, charging like a rhinoceros

Bolan, at six-three and two hundred pounds, was normally considered a big, powerful man, but the Russian was a full foot taller and one hundred pounds heavier. The giant’s bulk was lean, however, and he reacted with nimble agility, sidestepping Bolan’s main attack. The Executioner had kept his knife hidden during his charge, though, lashing out at the last moment and raking its razor-sharp length across the Russian’s belly. Skin and muscle parted, and the huge killer clutched his wounded gut. He pulled the trigger on the Desert Eagle again, but Bolan’s thumb safety kept him alive a moment more.

Spinning on a dime, the Executioner dropped to one knee and in a fencer’s lunge, speared the seven-inch blade through the Russian’s groin. When the hilt stopped on contact with skin, Bolan gave the Bowie a cruel twist and wrenched the carving edge sideways.

The Desert Eagle slipped from pain-numbed fingers as the giant’s blood pressure suddenly dropped, gushing out of his carved groin through severed femoral arteries. Bolan withdrew the knife and crashed his forearm into the side of the Russian’s head, spinning the big killer around. The Bowie flipped into an ice-pick grip and Bolan sank the point into the juncture of the mortally wounded defender’s neck and shoulder. The blade sliced apart muscle, broke bone and tore apart blood vessels in one wicked death stroke.

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