Soviet Specter by Don Pendleton

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

6

Duane Park was like dozens of other street intersections around New York—a tiny triangle of grass with a few benches calling itself a park.

Bolan parked the Highlander two blocks from Hudson on Duane Street and got out. He walked along the deserted sidewalk past the nineteenth-century buildings that made up that part of the Tribeca area of lower Manhattan. Ahead he could see a redbrick building with a variety of rounded arches, a mansard roof and what looked like Roman details. Farther down on Duane was another structure with a cast-iron front.

Bolan stepped off the sidewalk and listened to the rubber heels of his black-leather-and-nylon assault boots pound softly against the street. He crossed to the park, his eyes flickering right and left, his senses on alert. After leaving El Cuchillo Rojo he had returned to the hotel room where Ontomanov, Polyakova and Seven waited, informing the DEA man of what had transpired.

Now Bolan wore black jeans, a black T-shirt and a black Australian outback coat. The long dusterlike garment wasn’t necessary to hide the Desert Eagle, Beretta, Loner knife or the extra magazines for his pistols, but it came in handy when trying to conceal a weapon the size of the 9 mm Calico machine pistol that hung under his right arm. With the 50-round drum snapped in place on top of the gun, and an extra 100-round drum mag hanging from the other side of the shoulder sling, the system created considerable bulk.

Bolan stepped onto the grass and walked to the center of the park. He knew that if Gregor had decided to kill him rather than continue the test, now would be the time. There was always the possibility that the Russian would change his mind and decide the rewards from being in business with two federal agents weren’t worth the risk. There was also the possibility that the reason for this isolated meeting place was that Gregor’s men could grab Bolan and force him to reveal where Polyakova was.

Taking a seat on the bench in the center of the park, Bolan lifted his wrist and stared at the luminous hands of his watch. He knew he had been followed when he left El Cuchillo Rojo, had seen the car behind him as soon as he’d pulled the Highlander onto the street. But a series of turns down alleys and back streets had lost his pursuit, and by the time he returned to meet with the others at the hotel he was satisfied that he was alone.

The headlights of the car cruising slowly down Hudson toward the park caught his attention. The lead vehicle—a Ford LTD—was followed by two more cars. Bolan watched them slow and park along the street.

The Executioner tightened his grip on the briefcase, letting his other hand move closer to the Calico. The moment of truth was at hand, and he would soon know if his plan was working or not. The traditional method of climbing the ladder to the top of the

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