Executioner 042 - The Iranian H by The Iranian Hit

Author:The Iranian Hit [Hit, The Iranian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

10

No one tried to stop Bolan as he passed through the front entrance of the house and crossed the hallway to the study door. The two security guards were stationed just outside the study, so Bolan knew exactly where to find General Nazarour.

The guards tensed and started to rise, hands reaching for their side arms, but they relaxed when they eyeballed the formidable figure of Colonel Phoenix. They let him pass.

Bolan entered the study without knocking. His eyes made a quick sweep of the room.

General Nazarour was seated in his wheelchair behind his desk.

Abbas Rafsanjani, looking more like Peter Lorre than ever, had been in earnest conversation with the general. Rafsanjani shot a cautious, conspiratorial glance over his shoulder toward Bolan, who was standing in the doorway.

Nazarour was first to speak.

“Come in, Colonel,” he invited dryly. “You have about you the air of a man who has something on his mind and needs to say it.”

Bolan heeled the door shut behind him without taking his eyes off either man.

“Your security looks good, General. But a few other things have changed.”

“What impertinence,” Rafsanjani rasped under his breath. “You, Colonel, are in severe need of some lessons in protocol.”

“I’ll take them on my own time,” Bolan barked. He glared at Nazarour. “I need to speak with you, General. Alone.”

The general acquiesced with a nod to his aide. “You may leave us now, Abbas. I’m sure I’ll be quite safe alone with Colonel Phoenix.” The general didn’t take his eyes off Bolan as the eyes narrowed. He added pointedly, “Only please tell the guards to listen closely for any…unusual sounds. Just in case.”

“But I do not understand your asking me to leave,” Rafsanjani announced in injured tones.

“Yours is not to think or understand,” Nazarour snapped sternly. “Yours is to obey. Now begone.”

The aide had no recourse but to depart. He stared darkly at Bolan as he passed.

When the study door had closed behind Rafsanjani, Bolan said, “I’ve put a few things together, General. I know who those men were who tried to kidnap your wife tonight. They were sent by you, weren’t they?

“You discovered that your wife was having an affair, and you sent some hired muscle around to make things tough on her for a while and teach her one of your ‘lessons.’”

“Who have you been speaking to?” Nazarour demanded icily.

Bolan ignored the interruption. “Those men I blew away tonight by the C&O Canal were probably another shift from your own security force. Some of Minera’s boys, doing a little moonlighting on one of their own and the boss’s wife. You were paying them. And they were shooting at me. That is what’s got me real mad at the moment, General.”

The man in the wheelchair didn’t flinch.

“You will kindly refrain from this discussion immediately, Colonel. My marital affairs are none of your concern. You will cease diverting energies from your given task.”

“Your marital status is one of the things that has changed,” said Bolan. “When you climb on board that jet tomorrow morning in Rockville— if you survive to board it—your wife will not be leaving with you.

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