"Дон Пендлтон. Blood Sport ("Палач" #46) " - читать интересную книгу автора

"My view entirely," Bolan said with a bitter smile. He stood upright as
his finger hovered teasingly over the trigger. He anticipated only a
conciliatory move from her now, a furthering of their business deal. The
killing here was done, most likely. Next was a play from her. Tanya looked
at her watch, then at Klaus's crumpled body. Dark shadows of anger washed
over her face and Bolan thought she was about to spit on Klaus. But it
passed quickly and she was all business once more.
"All right, Sergeant. Let us go and inspect these arms you speak of. I
must insist on that now." She walked over to the door and hesitated. "What
about this fat pig?"
"I'll have one of my civilians come by with a body bag," said Bolan.
"Money talks loud nowadays. Klaus will soon turn up in the Main River, the
victim of a mugging."
She was already halfway down the hall when Bolan flicked the hotel
room's light three times before closing the door.
Bolan had just created a hole in his enemy's organization. Now he had
to make himself available to fill that hole.
A hellhole, that was for sure.
How cruelly she had helped him dig it.

6

"Hold it right there, sir," the man ordered, snapping his .45 automatic
out of its side holster and aiming it at Mack Bolan.
"Easy, son," Bolan said from behind the wheel of the jeep. He kept his
hands firmly planted on the steering wheel.
"May I see your identification, sir?"
"Sure thing, Corporal. Okay if I reach into my shirt?"
"Yes, sir," the young man said evenly. "But slowly, sir."
In the darkness, Bolan noted the other soldier standing inside the
bulletproof checkpoint booth behind the corporal, grimly watching the
action. The soldier's hands were below the booth's window. Without a doubt
they were wrapped around an M3AI submachine gun. Bolan pulled a laminated
slip of plastic from his pocket and handed it over. The corporal glanced
back and forth between the photo on the card and Bolan's face several times
before handing the card back. "Sorry, Sergeant. Thank you for cooperating."
Bolan smiled. "What the hell's going on here tonight? You fell as are
edgier than a cat in a room full of rocking chairs."
The corporal shrugged. He returned his .45 to his holster, but left it
unsnapped. "All I can tell you, Sergeant, is what they told us. That all
guards are to be doubled until further notice. No one got in or out without
a thorough check of ID, no matter how well we know them. Even General
Wilson." The corporal motioned to his partner in the booth.
The metal guardrail in front of the jeep rose automatically and Bolan
drove through with a wave of thanks.
Immediately he pulled the jeep around the corner of an old barracks
building and parked in the dark shadows. "It's all clear," he whispered,
quickly flipping back the rear seat. Tanya Morganslicht took a deep breath,
shook her long black hair over her shoulders, climbed out of the hidden
compartment of Sergeant Grendal's jeep.