"Дон Пендлтон. Doomsday Disciples ("Палач" #49) " - читать интересную книгу автора

Bolan panned back and picked up headlights approaching from the west.
His scope zeroed on the Lincoln, running through the fog at breakneck speed.
Carter's high beams, reflecting in the mist, made the Continental look like
a ghostly bail of fire.
Bolan hadn't waited for the counselor. With a head start, following
Highway 101 in a fast dogleg to the Golden Gate, he had beaten Carter by a
full ten minutes. He had time to hide his car and jog overland, picking out
his vantage point before the Russian mole arrived.
Carter reached the gate, coasting to a stop at the makeshift barricade.
Bolan watched as the sentries checked him out, shining flashlights in his
face and giving the car a thorough once-over. Carter was protesting the
delay, but the "elders" took their time, circling twice around the
Continental. Finally satisfied, the shotgunner retraced his steps to the
gatehouse for a consultation with the man inside.
Another moment, and the "elders" received clearance from the manor
house. The gunner reappeared, waving Carter through.
Bolan tracked the Lincoln with his scope, along a curving driveway
leading to the house. He watched Carter park and leave his car, taking the
porch steps two at a time. The front door opened before he had a chance to
knock, and the lawyer stepped inside.
Bolan lifted off the Starlite scope and sat back on his haunches,
waiting. His hand dropped to the mini-receiver, and he boosted the volume a
notch, straining to catch sounds from inside Minh's private office.
A knocking, answered by the strong, familiar voice.
"Come."
The door opened, closed again.
"Mitchell... please, sit down."
Bolan smiled at the darkness and tossed a quick salute to Gadgets
Schwarz. The only thing missing was a video display.
The Executioner was rigged for war, in military harness. The AutoMag
and Beretta occupied their honored places, the military web was weighed with
grenades and extra magazines. Resting on the ground beside him was the
double-punch combination - an M-16 assault rifle with a 40mm M-203 grenade
launcher mounted underneath the barrel. The warrior's chest was crisscrossed
with belts of ammunition for the 40mm, mixed rounds of alternating tear gas,
buckshot and high explosives.
He could take them now Carter had arrived. But a blend of curiosity and
caution held him back. There was still a chance of learning if Minh had
other troops and where they were quartered. If Minh had another army on the
street, Bolan meant to know about it going in.
Before the killing started, there was still time to kill.

10

Minh waved Mitchell to a chair, studying his face with eyes devoid of
expression. Carter had a drawn harried look, like a man who had just run the
gauntlet and caught a glimpse of hell.
Minh, who saw his share and more of hell on earth, was unimpressed. A
soldier chose the path of fire, and deserved no sympathy for shows of
weakness.