"Дон Пендлтон. The Libya Connection ("Палач" #48) " - читать интересную книгу автора

carried .357 Magnums on the hip in fast-draw holster. Teckert was gripping a
Beretta Model 70 assault rifle in his right hand while the German wore his
Galil by the shoulder strap, like Bolan. Hohlstrom had his Beretta pistol in
a shoulder holster. An AK-47 was strapped across his left shoulder.
Bolan admired the way Hohlstrom carried himself. The guy was a pro.
Mack Bolan preferred working solo or with the trusted members of his Stony
Man operation in backup. But since he and the "Swede" were in a situation
where they had to work side by side, he was glad this unexpected partner was
a man by all appearances exceedingly capable and tough.
As the men grouped together in the bay of the aircraft, Teckert looked
at Hohlstrom with the attitude of someone about to shout above the constant,
near deafening engine roar from over their head. But he did not speak.
Teckert moved.
So did Mack Bolan.
Bolan saw it coming. He dropped to his left, un-leathered the Browning,
and stayed put.
Hohlstrom had leaned forward to give an ear to Teckert, expecting the
guy to shout something as Teckert had appeared ready to do. But yeah,
Hohlstrom saw it coming too. He jerked back, tugging his Beretta from its
underarm holster in a lightning-fast cross draw. Exceedingly capable.
Except that it was two-to-one.
Bruner executed a fast downward judo chop with his right hand. The
Beretta clattered to the deck from Hohlstrom's fist.
It was a fractured splinter of time. The steady throb from the
chopper's machinery grumbled around the scene of violence.
Hohlstrom back-stepped in an attempt to unshoulder the AK-47.
Teckert closed in before Hohlstrom's action was complete. Teckert used
both hands to heft the Beretta Model 70 he was toting in his right hand. He
smashed the assault rifle, butt forward, full force into Hohlstrom's high
forehead. The dull thwack carried even above the Huey's engine noise.
Hohlstrom's knees buckled. He slumped to the chopper's deck, at the
other men's feet, blood streaming down his face and into his eyes.
Teckert stepped away, the butt of his rifle smeared with red.
Bruner, hoisting up Hohlstrom's Beretta, had swung around to cover
Bolan. The German froze, staring into the bore of Bolan's Browning
automatic.
It was a standoff.
Bolan shifted the Browning's aim between Bruner and Teckert. Bruner did
not drop the Beretta. Teckert had reversed his rifle to take aim on
Hohlstrom. Everyone had a gun except the fallen man.
The Israeli agent was stretched out facedown, holding his forehead but
not making a sound. The guy was holding his pain inside. He appeared only
semiconscious.
Bruner did not blink an eye at the handgun in Bolan's fist. "PUT THAT
GUN AWAY, MY FRIEND," he yelled above the engine noise. "THESE ARE DOYLE'S
ORDERS!"
Bolan gave a curt nod toward Hohlstrom. He did not holster the
Browning. "I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT THIS!"
"HOHLSTROM'S A GODDAMN SPY!" Teckert shouted at Bolan. "AN ISRAELI!"
Bolan retained his two-hand grip in a bent-knee stance, the Browning