Extreme Force by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton [Pendleton, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780373611911
Publisher: Gold Eagle
Published: 2000-09-01T10:26:33+00:00

“Interesting,” Bolan said. “So Cordoba is ex-military. That explains a lot.” “I never said any such thing.” “You didn’t have to.” The pilot glowered.

“He’s an ex-officer,” Bolan guessed, “and he must have high-level military contacts, people he’s bought who help hide his operation from the civilian authorities.” Cortez made no reply.

“Not that it matters. His days of selling arms are numbered.” “You seriously think you can bring him down all by yourself? One man against a small army?” “All it takes is one shot.” “You will never get close enough.” “Just get me to Taguari and I’ll find a way.” Cortez glanced sharply at the warrior, his brow knitted. For a moment a crafty spark flared in his eyes, then he assumed a sober air and commented, “Whatever you say. I never argue with anyone holding a gun on me.” Neither spoke a word after that for a long while. An unending carpet of jungle unfolded underneath them, broken here and there by isolated outposts and small towns. In due time they came on the Sucurid River and paralleled its sluggish course.

Bolan had time to do some thinking. There was a chance that someone in Sanariapo had radioed ahead and alerted Cordoba that he was coming. He would have to put down as close to the town as he could without being detected and make a swift, hard probe to find the Vulture’s base before the defenders could rally.

Suddenly Cortez hissed. He was looking straight ahead, at the horizon.

Bolan did the same and saw a small black speck. It rapidly grew in size, materializing into the shape of another plane. “A friend of yours?” he asked.

“Cordoba has five planes at his disposal.

It could be any one of them. We should turn around, try to lose it.” “No. They’re bound to radio you. When they do, you’d better convince them that nothing is wrong.” Bolan raised the Uzi.

A minute elapsed, but the radio was silent.

Bolan studied the oncoming craft, trying to identify the type by its configuration. Before he could, the plane arced high into the clouds and was lost.

“I do not like this!” Cortez said.

Bolan was feeling a little uneasy himself. He leaned forward to peer up at the sky above them but saw no trace of the other aircraft. “How much farther to Taguari?” he inquired.

“Perhaps ten minutes, no more.” “I want you to put down on the river in five.” “If we live that long,” Cortez muttered.

As if to underscore the pilot’s point, there was a series of metallic shrieks and the amphibian vibrated violently. heavy-caliber slugs ripped through the cabin roof and thudded into the floor, missing Cortez by a hair.

“Lose them!” Bolan commanded.

Cortez needed no encouragement. He banked the amphibian into a steep dive, angling for the treetops. From above and behind them more rounds punched into the cabin and the wings. The amphibian shook wildly.

Bolan twisted, seeking a glimpse of their attacker. He tried to open the door, intending to discourage the opposition with a few bursts from the Uzi, but the wind sheer slammed the door shut in his face.

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