Killpath by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Worldwide Library
Published: 2015-12-30T05:00:00+00:00

11

Mack Bolan had to give the leader of the SNC some respect. The man had thought ahead far enough to prepare a flying squad in order to bring down the hammer on Bolan and Rojas the next time they attacked. In less than twenty-four hours, Carbonez had lost several major portions of his Cali operations, including Macco’s force, over a dozen street-level assassins and Herrera’s entire livery crew.

Herrera had obviously passed on the Executioner’s grim warning.

Bolan didn’t tend to underestimate the intelligence or ability of his opposition. Though he hadn’t expected Carbonez to move in with quite this much speed and strength, he’d also been hoping to draw the general out, to gauge what kind of rapid response the criminal could summon. And if Herrera’s warning hadn’t been enough, Bolan knew the explosions at the livery would have been audible for miles.

“You were expecting them to come,” Rojas stated.

Bolan nodded. “Thinking ahead of the enemy. Isn’t that what kept you on top in New York?”

“Absolutely.” Rojas smiled.

Bolan had a live grenade in the breech of the 40 mm tube attached to his carbine. The warhead on the little canister was High Explosive Dual Purpose, capable of producing antipersonnel effects, but also more than strong enough to punch through a wall or the shell of a lightly armored vehicle.

The helicopters came into view, two UH-1 Hueys followed by an MH-6 Little Bird. The Hueys were traditional and reliable workhorses able to carry up to a dozen men into action if the ships were stuffed to the gills. Thankfully, neither bird had door gunners, but the smaller, nimble teardrop-shaped chopper behind them did have weapons pods hanging off the side. The craft was just as versatile as a Huey—if not more so. The Little Bird was often used as a rapid deployment aircraft, getting small squads into areas where the heavier Hueys would have trouble landing, and they were equally practical as improvised air-to-ground attack ships.

Bolan pushed Rojas back inside the garage before diving in himself. The tarmac where they’d been standing was torn up by dozens of rounds raining from the sky. A few yards to their left, more rounds blasted apart a section of wall, leaving a ragged opening in the structure.

“What the fuck was that?” Rojas snapped, shocked at the sudden appearance of a hole large enough to drive an SUV through.

“Heavy firepower,” Bolan said. “Stay in cover over there, by the tool lockers. Let the fight come to you.”

“And you?” Rojas asked.

“I’m going into my element,” the Executioner returned.

In an instant, Bolan was through the hole blasted in the wall.

The dual Hueys hovered as their backup bird orbited the livery, ready to lay down even more cover fire. Ropes dropped from the troop ships, unraveling and twisting from the open side doors as the Colombian pilots steadied their charges. The MH-6 circled, and a door gunner fired rounds into the sides of the garage.

The commandos on the Hueys slid deftly down the heavy cords. With the gunship providing

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