Hellfire Code by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Mack Bolan hadn’t initially sensed the presence that pulled him from the ladder well of the Hadesfire. There was a lot of noise distracting him.

However, there was no ignoring the feeling of a shadow crossing over him, followed by something being slung over his head. Bolan turned just slightly in time to avoid having his throat crushed by a thick rope and managed to raise his forearm near his head, a reactionary movement that came from years of training. Rope made a crude garrote, but it could still prove lethal in the hands of an experienced user. Bolan’s particular attacker seemed anything but that. The soldier was sideways to his assailant now, had made it to his knees, and his well-calculated and well-timed movements gave him the advantage.

Bolan reached down, grabbed the back of his adversary’s boot and yanked forward while simultaneously rising from his position. The maneuver threw the assailant onto his back. Bolan was on the guy in seconds, but his enemy was just as fast. The man launched a kick to Bolan’s face that nearly knocked him unconscious. The soldier’s head reeled from the vicious assault, but he shook it off.

The attacker slipped free and regained his feet nearly as fast as the Executioner. The glint of the hangar lights on steel revealed that the Apparatus hardman held a large combat knife. When the mercenary charged, Bolan sidestepped the attack and delivered a knife-hand strike to his would-be assailant’s wrist. The terrorist shouted with a mix of pain and surprise, and the knife fell from numbed fingers.

The man whirled and reached for his side arm, but the Executioner cleared the Beretta from shoulder leather first. He snap-aimed on the enemy gunner and squeezed the trigger twice. The first 9 mm slug hit the terrorist in the right chest, punching through a lung. Blood erupted from the man’s mouth in a foaming spray even as the second round struck him in the chin and then traveled on to rip away the lower part of the jaw. The man began to twitch and shudder as blood spurted from the open, gaping wounds. Bolan stepped forward and put a mercy round through his head.

Bolan didn’t wait for a new pair of Apparatus soldiers to announce themselves.

As soon as they came through a door near the launch pad, Bolan dropped and rolled for cover. The air around where he’d been a moment before was suddenly filled with a hail of bullets. Bolan completed his roll and settled into a kneeling position, Beretta held at the ready, now in 3-round-burst mode. He triggered the first trio of bullets, shooting the weapon from the closest terrorist’s grip with the first two rounds and catching him in the ribs with the third.

Bolan immediately followed up with a second volley, but he couldn’t see its effect because the sudden whoosh of heat and flame washed over his head and forced him flat to the floor. Stray rounds had obviously found their way into the fuel containers.

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