Superbolan 81 Deep Treachery by Don Pendleton

Author:Don Pendleton
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TEN

Sudan

The last one to have jumped off the Herc's ramp, the Executioner was the final man to touch down. Landing roughly a dozen yards inside the east wall, Bolan had the chute pack off, bootstrap unfastened, war bag opened and HK-33 in hand, locked and loaded in several quick moves. Combat harness snug in place, webbing hung with a mixed bag of grenades, black cosmetics masking his features, the soldier padded into a tangled nest of tropical vegetation hugging the razor-topped wall. Hitting the vibrating button on his com link from the cover of darkness, the soldier got his bearings, waiting as three silent signals shimmied against the side of his head.

The blacksuits were hunkered down on the far west edge of the compound.

Show time.

Up close now, the People's Palace looked immense, but the soldier knew sat imagery—no matter how refined, high-tech and sophisticated—never did the sort of 3-D justice on some sprawling enemy compound that the human eye would observe from the ground.

Bolan surveyed the lit-up white granite structure. To penetrate and clear the place of enemy guns, secure his hostage and march the women to safety was going to prove quite the task. Two stories, running the length of over a football field on just his side alone. He wasn't even going to bother counting all the windows, most of which were curtained, or worry about how many rooms held how many guns or what sort of occupants. The word from Brognola's CIA mouthpiece was that the soldiers here pulled double duty as wait staff. That helped his play some, no servants to contend with or keep out of harm's way.

No guards were visible in his vicinity. He heard gentle splashing beyond the wall ringing the pool where someone was catching an evening dip. A slope, pocked with scrub, led to the wall. The soldier would stick to the game plan, go over that wall, advance through the back door when the fireworks erupted. Once the shooting started the women could pose a problem, perhaps scurrying all around, terrified and in danger of getting caught in the cross fire, perhaps even reeled in as human shields by the fainter of heart Sudanese.

Bolan would deal with each situation and individual as they showed his way. On the surface the plan was simple and straightforward enough. Then again, it always was—in concept at least. Bulldoze inside the palace; mow down the enemy, round up Nafud and the women. Team Three would penetrate from the south side, while one manned the front and Two secured a fire point from the west. If the officers and their corrupt lackeys chose to run outside to bolt for safety while Bolan brought the roof down, they would be greeted by a hail of lead. No mistake, Bolan and the blacksuits were declaring war on men who had willingly helped engineer some jihad against American citizens. Whether they toted a weapon or financed terrorism from behind the safety of some desk in a bank, they were all guilty.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.