Death Gamble by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton [Pendleton, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Thriller & Suspense
ISBN: 9780373643127
Amazon: 0373643128
Publisher: Gold Eagle
Published: 2004-11-01T11:00:00+00:00

8

The guard wasn’t supposed to hear the Executioner coming.

But as Bolan emerged from the jungle the stout stalk of a plant snapped underfoot, diverting the man’s attention from his cigarette to the soldier closing in on his back.

The guard had ventured too close to the jungle. Bolan had hoped to take the man down quietly, perhaps interrogate him and gather valuable intel regarding troop strength, perhaps even garner the man’s help in breaching the compound.

Instead, the noise had ignited the hardman’s combat reflexes and set him into action. In a single fluid motion, he turned, firing his Galil and trying to acquire a target as Bolan approached.

The Galil’s snout was homing in on Bolan’s chest, but he had the other man in his sights. The Beretta chugged once, spitting out a single 9 mm round, which burrowed deep into the man’s cheek before ripping out the side of his head in a spray of blood, bone and brain matter.

As the man tumbled to the ground, Bolan continued on. He exchanged the Beretta for the Colt Commando as he went. The Galil’s chatter had shattered the stillness along with Bolan’s hopes for a quiet insertion. People already knew he was somewhere on the island. The Galil’s burst just told everybody where.

It was time for the bigger firepower. The Colt carried a 30-round magazine of 5.56 mm and had a four-inch flash suppressor attached to the barrel’s tip. Bolan switched the Colt to full-auto as he glided along the wall, eyes darting about, scouring the area for the next threat.

The intel had indicated the island’s nerve center was located within a single sprawling compound positioned at the land-mass’s highest point. Satellite photos provided to Bolan by Kurtzman indicated the main complex included Kursk’s home, dual helipads, the motor pool and several smaller, unidentified buildings. A twelve-foot-high security wall protected most of the compound’s perimeter, while a sheer cliff plunged down the back side, making entry from that direction all but impossible.

If he wanted to locate Dade, Bolan had no other choice but to enter the main compound. He’d lost his climbing gear along with most of his other equipment back in the tunnel. That left him with a single option, and not a very good one at that: he had to go through the front door.

A flash of movement ahead caught Bolan’s attention. A gunner popped up at the corner of the security wall, exposing his head, part of his upper torso and an Uzi submachine gun. Muzzle-flash blossomed from the SMG’s barrel and autofire buzzed a path toward Bolan.

The Colt cracked out a smooth line of return fire that struck the wall just inches from Bolan’s target. The rounds chipped away at the concrete and forced his opponent to take cover. Bolan bolted to the right, returning to the dense foliage that lay nearby. He emptied the Commando’s clip on the run, peppering the wall with an angry swarm of slugs and keeping his opponent pinned down.

When the gun went dry, Bolan ejected the magazine and grabbed another from his seized combat webbing.

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