Shadow Hunt by Don Pendleton

Shadow Hunt by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2011-11-08T05:00:00+00:00


11

The alley behind the hotel was dirty and filled with trash. Rats skittered through the piles of refuse that contained everything from food to bottles to cast-off clothing and Mardi Gras beads. A rusted ladder ran up the side of the building to the roof.

“This is where you’re staying?” Sandra asked. “Seriously?”

“It’s cheap and anonymous,” Bolan replied, looking to the ends of the alley to make sure there weren’t any observers. “Not pretty, but then again, I’m not in a pretty line of work.” He gestured to a stack of garbage cans and pallets. “Go hide over there,” he said. “I’ll be back as quick as I can.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather go with you, thanks.”

“Too bad,” he replied. “I can’t climb the ladder up to the roof, keep you from falling off when you get tired and protect us both at the same time.” He gestured in the direction of the garbage cans. “Get hidden. Now.”

Sandra moved toward the appointed hiding place, and Bolan gripped the rusted rungs of the ladder and hauled himself upward. After seeing several likely thugs out front, he suspected his best bet was to try to reach his room from the roof. With any luck, he’d also find Remy and be able to get them both out of the situation alive.

The building wasn’t particularly tall, but eight stories was still a long climb. Halfway up, he realized that the sounds of exertion he heard weren’t just coming from himself, and he stopped and looked down the ladder. Sandra was moving up behind him, a determined look on her face as she moved.

“I told you to hide,” Bolan whispered.

“I’d rather die up here than be eaten by rats,” she whispered back. “Get moving. If I stop, I’m screwed.”

Bolan turned and kept moving—there was no time to waste arguing.

He was almost at the top when he saw a silhouette move across the rooftop. Bolan froze, pressing himself against the ladder. Sandra had to have seen it, too, as she stopped moving and kept silent. Bolan risked a glance up and saw that the person had moved to the corner of the roof. He looked down at Sandra and said, “Stay.”

She nodded, and he turned and slipped onto the roof. The Executioner crept behind the person and was nearly on him when the gravel under foot slid beneath his boot and gave him away. The person spun, raising a mini-Uzi from beneath his suit coat.

Bolan didn’t hesitate. He drew the Navy SEAL knife from the sheath at his back, stepped in and drove the blade between the man’s ribs, angling it upward. His left hand moved up and covered the man’s mouth before he could utter a sound. The sentry twitched, but the struggle was almost over before it began. Bolan lowered the corpse to the roof, then turned and went back to the ladder.

Looking down, he saw that Sandra was nowhere to be seen.

“Damn it,” he muttered. “Where the hell is she?”

Sandra jumped out in front of him and he leaped backward, only recognizing her at the last second.



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