Executioner 220 - Tiger Stalk by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton [Pendleton, Don]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“A self-defense class at a community college in Fresno,” she explained, straightening her clothes. “I’m glad I didn’t forget everything I learned.” Dasilva was sweating profusely.

First the four men he had hired to follow and kill the American were killed in a restaurant blood-bath. He assumed the American agent was responsible. They were supposed to wait outside the building where he was staying and shoot him at the first opportunity.

Now the three youths he’d hired to pick a fight with Belasko had called him from the Colombo General Hospital emergency room. The leader of the trio was supposedly an expert at killing with a blade, which was what Dasilva had hired him to do.

Only he was supposed to make it look like the byproduct of a street fight.

Atwater wouldn’t be pleased.

He would have to find replacements for the men he’d sent. Fortunately, he reminded himself, he hadn’t yet paid them for their services.

Searching desperately through his memory, he remembered a local group of collection specialists who worked for whoever paid them. He skimmed through the yellowed telephone book on his night stand and found the telephone number of his contact. It would reduce the amount he kept for himself, but half of something was better than nothing.

He decided it was time to lead the men personally.

Dasilva didn’t know why they wanted to kill the man named Michael Belasko, nor did he care. It was their business, not his. All that mattered was that he’d been promised a bonus of an additional five thousand by Atwater if he was successful.

Compared to some of the jobs he’d been given, this one was a breeze, and a lot more profitable.

He shut his thoughts off as he spotted the local men he had hired. There were almost a dozen. Gripping the cheap plastic gym bags that contained the Skorpion SMGS he’d provided, they were trying their best to blend into the crowds that jammed the streets.

He had checked their credentials as best he could on such short notice.

It was supposed to look like a terrorist attack, an indiscriminate massacre ordered by the Tamil Tigers or one of the other rebel groups. The assault would kill more than just the American, but the resulting panic and confusion would make it easier for all of them to escape.

Finding the American hadn’t been difficult.

Several of his men had canvassed the area around the Pettah and learned that a big American had been asking Chinese restaurant owners if they knew where to find a Chinese importer named Chen.

There were several restaurants on Chatham Street, and the American hadn’t yet come here to ask his question.

A red Nissan pulled into Chatham Street.

Behind the wheel was a large, hard-faced man.

Excitement coursed through Dasilva. It had to be him.

Belasko.

The man stood and signaled with a gesture of his hand for the gray Toyota at the curb to start moving, then took a position against the outside wall of a small tourist shop and knelt to open his bag.

Staring intently at the

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