Suicide Highway by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2013-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

10

Laith Khan’s voice was cheerful over the telephone after Bolan told him about the brief scuffle with the Green Berets.

“Sounds like it was fun,” Laith said.

“I thought you liked Americans,” Bolan said.

Laith chuckled. “I don’t like sticks in the mud.”

Bolan sighed. “I don’t think there’s enough mud in this part of the country for Blake to get stuck in.”

“Figure of speech, big guy,” Laith replied.

“Just try to remember, he wouldn’t be here if he didn’t care,” Bolan answered. “He’s trying to do a job, and his hands, unlike ours, are tied.”

“Sorry,” Laith apologized. “You’re right.”

Bolan scanned for enemies on the roads or on rooftops. “You’re forgiven. Any word on the gold Peugeot?”

“Aleser had a couple of runners come into town to look for it, and they’ve been reporting in,” Laith answered. “You’re not going to go meet with Haytham and his boys by yourself, are you?”

“Don’t worry, Laith. You’ll get as much action as you can handle if my reckoning is right,” Bolan explained. “Besides, Dr. Bronson needs someone to watch over her. You’re it. I’ll go through some of the alternate hideouts for the Taliban holdouts you gave me,” Bolan told him. “Something might shake loose if I rattle hard enough.”

“And if not?” Laith asked.

Bolan measured his response for a moment. “Consider it incidental pest control.”

THE TOP LEVEL of the old Soviet military base had been burned, blasted and looted dozens of times over in the years since the Russians’ withdrawal from Afghanistan. The lawless aftermath of the occupation had left those facilities vulnerable to savage assaults. Whatever still stood was so thoroughly defaced by an angry, liberated people that the Executioner barely recognized the facility at first.

Only one building still stood after the hammering of RPG shells and grenades and whatever explosives looters could find to try to pierce the walls. The squat little bunker entrance was pockmarked with the remaining rage of an impotent horde trying to crack open the reinforced concrete and steel frame of the building. Bolan had always admired the old USSR’s ability to make cheap and easy items that also could stand up to untold amounts of horrific abuse.

Nothing short of a nuke going off right on top of the bunker would have made a dent. Instead, the Executioner looked for an alternative entrance. The Soviets would not have allowed themselves to be trapped in an underground cavern without at least a secondary exit, one that was well concealed, but still easily accessible to someone who knew his way around such a facility. Bolan had seen his share of such dens of secret warfare across the course of his career. He also knew that without much variation, the architecture of such underground tunnels was a set pattern. Perched on a hill overlooking the burnt-out old Soviet war base, he mentally tracked a spiral out from the central blockhouse, sweeping the ground for the back door.

He spotted a pile of stones that was just a tad too regular to be the natural result of the landscape.

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