Soft Target by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2013-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

10

The flight from Springfield to Oklahoma City was an up-and-down affair, with most of the hour it took spent with the Learjet rising to, then descending from, the altitude Jack Grimaldi had been assigned. He made radio contact, dipped a wing and prepared to set down on one of the runways at Wiley Post, just east of Will Rogers Airport. The unorthodox landing of the private craft at the airport usually reserved for cargo planes had been set up by Hal Brognola in order to save time. The big Fed had promised that a car would be waiting below, as well.

Bolan had changed into a gray suit, white shirt and conservative necktie during the flight. But the blacksuit—as well as other equipment—was packed in a small suitcase just behind his seat in the jet. At this point, he didn’t know exactly what role he’d decide to take once he reached the university. It might be best to go clandestine. On the other hand, he might decide to take charge of the entire counterterrorism op himself. He’d make his decision after he arrived and got a feel for the situation.

The Executioner reached behind him and grabbed the suitcase as Grimaldi brought the plane to a halt at the end of the runway. Two vehicles were waiting on the tarmac as Bolan dropped down from the Learjet. One was a black-and-white squad car with the inscription Oklahoma City Airport Police on the door. The head and shoulders of a gray-and-blue uniformed police officer could be seen above the steering wheel.

The other car was a black Toyota Highlander. The Executioner walked toward the SUV. Another uniformed officer stood next to the driver’s side of the Highlander. “You’re Cooper?” he asked as Bolan approached. In his left hand, he held a key ring.

Bolan nodded, producing the Justice Department credentials that identified him as Special Agent Matthew Cooper. The cop glanced at the picture, then handed him the keys. “Good luck, Agent Cooper,” he said. “From all I’ve been hearing over the scanner, you’re gonna need it.”

The Executioner tossed his suitcase into the back seat, and slid behind the wheel of the Toyota as the cop strolled back to the squad car. A moment later, the police vehicle drove away.

Bolan stuck the key in the ignition, fired the Highlander to life and put the transmission in drive. Cutting across the tarmac, he crossed a parking area, passed a row of cargo storage areas, and pulled out onto the road.

As Bolan approached the edge of the campus, he knew he was where he was supposed to be. But he hardly needed any street signs to tell him.

A hundred yards to his left, it looked like the circus had come to town.

The lawns, gardens, and parking lots around the two-story Liberal Arts building had been cordoned off with yellow tape and sawhorses. Running between dozens of police cars were cops dressed in every conceivable type of law-enforcement uniform. Several of the distinctive hats worn by the Oklahoma

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